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candleshopmenace · 2 years

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fight fire with fire [make the flame grow] | day twelve: cave in

SUMMARY

“Bakugou?” Todoroki asks. “Are you alright?”

No, I’m laying on the filthy floor for fun, Icy-Hot, why don’t you join me?, he opens his mouth to say, but he only gets to, “No,” before the world fizzles to nothingness and he passes the fuck out.

—

When Aizawa-sensei decides to pair him up with Todoroki for a training exercise, Katsuki isn’t quite stupid enough to think that it could ever possibly end well.

Unfortunately, he’s right.

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When Aizawa-sensei announces a training exercise, then proceeds to tell them that they won’t even be allowed to choose their own teams - some bullshit about having to be able to work with people that they’re unfamiliar with - Katsuki isn’t quite stupid enough to think that it could ever possibly end well. The prediction is further solidified by the fact that Aizawa-sensei, in all his imperial wisdom, decides to pair him up with Todoroki fucking Shouto.

Fucking Icy-Hot.

Katsuki looks over at Todoroki, who doesn’t even look fazed, and then looks back at Aizawa, his mouth open to protest. His teacher’s expression stops the complaint before it can even leave his mouth. He’s watching Katsuki, like he’s gauging his reaction, and, when he notices Katsuki staring, he just raises an eyebrow. What? he seems to be asking. Are you really going to admit that you can’t handle being partners with your own classmate? Nobody else is upset, Bakugou, so why are you?

Katsuki grits his teeth and looks away, giving up. In the battle of wills, he’s the one who blinks first. He’s distracted throughout the rest of Aizawa’s lecture about safety and the importance of teamwork, and, by the time that the class starts to disperse towards the training grounds, Katsuki has no fucking clue as to what he’s supposed to be doing. He walks along with his classmates anyways, listening for clarification before he asks it - asking is the simplest choice, the most logical, but the consequence isn’t always worth the easy answer.

Kirishima jogs up beside him and claps a hand down on his shoulder. “How are you feeling, Bakugou?” he asks, and, out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki can see a flash of gleaming white as his friend grins at him.

“Go away,” Katsuki snaps, shrugging Kirishima’s hand off. “Go bother Pinky.”

“Nah.” Kirishima continues loping along beside him, smile never faltering, wide and shark-toothed. “I like being with you.”

The knot in Katsuki’s chest loosens, just slightly, and he has to glare down at the ground to hide the way that his face is burning. Kirishima is always so fucking honest about his feelings that it makes Katsuki feel like he’s speaking a whole different language, like the rest of the world is rushing by him and he’s the only one that’s standing still.

Kirishima loops an arm around his shoulders like it's the most natural thing in the world and, leaning forward so that he can see Katsuki’s expression, so that Katsuki can see his, he says, “You know what I’ve never noticed, Bakugou?”

“What.”

“You’re actually taller than me. You just slouch so much that I’ve never noticed before now. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Not really,” Katsuki says, trying to sound bored, but the way that Kirishima’s eyes glint with amusement tells him that his attempt was unsuccessful. Katsuki swallows, stares at his feet. “Who are you paired up with?”

“I’m with Iida,” Kirishima says, and Katsuki knows even without looking that he’s frowning. “Aizawa-sensei really went out of his way to take us out of our comfort zones. Didn’t he pair you up with Todoroki?”

“Yep.”

“Yikes.” Kirishima shifts, his grip tightening almost imperceptibly. “That’s gotta suck. You two aren’t on the best of terms, right?”

That’s a nice way of putting it, and it's not even exactly true. Todoroki hasn’t been acting any differently towards Katsuki. It's Katsuki himself who has changed. It's Katsuki who’s single-handedly fucking things up, as always. He’s being immature, irrational, and he’s terrified that he’s going to get a failing grade on this training exercise - sabotaging himself is one thing, but sabotaging a classmate? Even one that he doesn’t like?

That’s a whole other fucking story.

But Katsuki doesn’t say that. He’s not like Kirishima, or Ashido - he can’t just talk like they can, can’t be as open. He likes to think that he would if he could, but he can’t. He can’t, and so he just huffs, thoroughly irritated, “Aizawa is a fucking sadist.”

“Aren’t all teachers?” Kirishima asks, without a beat missed.

Katsuki laughs, once, sharp. It's loud and completely involuntary, and he has to bite his tongue to stifle it. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head.

Kirishima smirks, satisfied. “Pretty sure that says more about you than it does about me.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean, Shitty-Hair?”

Kirishima doesn’t elaborate, like the answer is instinctive, and they fall into an easy silence all the way until they reach Training Ground Beta. There, when they stop, Kirishima finally lets his arm drop from around Katsuki’s shoulders. He says, “Oh, by the way.”

Katsuki glances at him, wary. “What?”

“We’re doing another one of those rescue situations. You and Todoroki have to go into the basement layer of one of the buildings and bring the hostage back safely.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, thinking, then shrugs and says, “That’s what Aizawa-sensei said, anyways. There’s probably more to it that he’s not telling us. You know how he is.”

Oh. So that’s what they’re supposed to be doing.

“... I already knew all that,” Katsuki says, dismissing. “I was paying attention.”

Kirishima’s responding grin is big and bright and fucking blinding. “Right,” he says, and he sounds like he’s holding back a laugh. “Of course you were, Bakugou.”

It's not Todoroki himself that is the problem.

It's his fucking Quirk.

Sero, when Katsuki told him that, looked at him like he was crazy.

I’m not crazy, Katsuki had said, painfully aware that the words echoed hollow no matter the context. It reminds me of Dabi. All that Goddamned fire, it fucks with my brain.

To make it all worse, Katsuki has to see the bastard every day, since they live in the same fucking building. He’s tense whenever he leaves his room, expecting to turn a corner and find Todoroki watching him, expecting to turn a corner and find Dabi watching him, expecting to turn a corner and find a mirror, reflecting his image and revealing all his thoughts to the world, and what would people have to say about that, the fact that he couldn’t tell the difference between a hero and a villain?

He knows what they would say.

The stress has gotten to him.

It's too much.

He’s gone insane.

And maybe he has gone insane. Maybe he’s always been insane. Maybe he’s delusional, seeing patterns that aren’t there, jumping at shadows, waking up screaming, shaking and sick to his stomach and not even in control of his own fucking mind.

But, no.

Katsuki isn’t crazy.

He’d know if he was crazy.

Still, there are moments where the light catches on Todoroki’s silhouette and throws it against the wall, looming, imposing, far too familiar, burned skin and flashing eyes and simmering anger, and it's on those nights that Katsuki doesn’t sleep.

So, it's not Todoroki himself that’s the problem, but that doesn’t mean that Katsuki is very enthusiastic about being stuck with him for God knows how long. Just the two of them. Underground. And it must show on his face, because the first thing that Todoroki does when they’re out of earshot of the rest of the class is turn to Katsuki and ask, blunt as ever, “Do you have a problem with me?”

“Yeah,” Katsuki says, automatic, then mentally curses himself for never being able to respond like a normal fucking person. But he’s committed to the bit, now, and so he continues, “I’ve got a lot. Which one are you referring to, Icy-Hot?”

“The one that’s making you avoid me.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Katsuki walks faster, feeling Todoroki’s eyes boring into the back of his head, burning. “Just because I don’t like being all buddy-buddy with you doesn’t mean that I’m avoiding you, it just means that I think you’re a stuck-up bastard.”

Todoroki doesn’t pause, doesn’t rise to the bait, just keeps walking, footsteps light behind Katsuki. He’s following him like he’s a pursuit predator, waiting for Katsuki to collapse from exhaustion. That thought just pisses Katsuki off even more, and he all but rips the door of their assigned building off of its hinges. He hears Todoroki mutter something under his breath and his hackles raise. He snaps, defensive, “What was that, Icy-Hot?”

Todoroki brushes past him. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Bullshit.” Katsuki slams the door shut, cutting off the outside world and leaving them with nothing but the flickering overhead lights. There are probably cameras in here, which means that someone - Aizawa-sensei, most likely - is tracking their movements, but hopefully he can’t hear their conversation because Katsuki and Todoroki are supposed to be working as a team and bickering with each other probably doesn’t classify as teamwork. “I heard you. You said something.”

“I did not.” And Todoroki’s voice is flat, calm, but Katsuki swears that he can hear an undercurrent of smugness, like the cat that ate the fucking canary and knows that it got away with the crime. “Maybe you’re having hallucinations, Bakugou.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I never said you were.”

Katsuki seethes silently and walks ahead of Todoroki, yanking open the door that leads down to the basement. He tries to shut it before Todoroki can walk through, but Todoroki just wedges a foot between it and the frame. Katsuki glances down at the bastard’s shoes, mutters a curse. Steel-toed. He could stand there all day.

Katsuki spins on his heel and starts down the stairs, putting as much distance between the two of them as possible. It's dark - no surprise there - and he nearly falls on his face several times, but the good thing about being in pitch black is that no one can see your embarrassing stumbles. His feet hit the floor, and the lights come on, searing into Katsuki’s eyes. “Fuck,” he says, raising one hand to shadow them, then yells up the stairs, “Hurry the Hell up, Icy-Hot!”

Todoroki calls back, “You’re not very good at working in teams, are you?”

“Yeah, well.” Katsuki turns in a slow circle, inspecting his surroundings. “Group hugs and trust falls aren’t really my style.”

“And obviously all that you care about is style.” This time, Todoroki’s voice comes from right behind him, and Katsuki slams his elbow back on reflex. The motion is cut short when Todoroki grabs his arm and simply forces it down to his side, saying, “Aizawa-sensei will deduct points if you break my nose.”

“Like I give a shit, Icy-Hot,” Katsuki snaps, his heart thudding so hard in his chest that it's fucking painful. He yanks away from Todoroki, shoves his hands in his pockets, and stalks down the hallway. If not for Todoroki’s inhumanly fast reflexes, he probably would’ve gotten more than a broken nose - he would’ve been knocked out, and then Katsuki would’ve had to drag his sorry ass all the way back upstairs. “Don’t fucking sneak up on me.”

“I wasn’t sneaking up on you,” Todoroki says, and now there’s finally something in his voice other than bland indifference. He sounds annoyed, almost. “You just weren’t paying attention. Just like you weren’t paying attention when Aizawa-sensei was explaining the assignment.”

“I was paying attention,” Katsuki snarls. Then, as an afterthought, “Fuck you.”

“No,” Todoroki says, sounding even more annoyed, “you weren’t. I saw you. When Aizawa-sensei said that we were going to be partners, you looked like you’d just been handed a death sentence.”

“Why the Hell were you watching me?” Katsuki yanks open the door to a service hallway and starts down the path, raking his fingers along the wall to orient himself because there’s not as much light in here as there was back in the main hall. “Goddamn creep.”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you hate me.”

“Why do you even care? We’re not friends.”

Todoroki goes silent for a moment, then says, “Maybe so, but it's still important to be civil to your future coworkers. You never know when you might need to team up with them. What happens if you can’t work well with someone because of a petty disagreement? What do you think will happen then, Bakugou?”

It's maybe the longest thing that Katsuki has heard Todoroki say uninterrupted, ever, and so he keeps his own response short and simple. “I guess I’ll die.”

Todoroki takes a deep, deep breath. Katsuki’s sure that if he turned around and squinted, he’d see the bastard glaring daggers at him.

Katsuki quickens his pace.

They continue walking in silence for several minutes, but, unlike how it was with Kirishima, this one is tense and charged with static. It's like they’re both thinking so loudly that it's bordering just on the verge of being audible, settling like a blanket of needles across Katsuki’s skin. He jolts when Todoroki finally speaks, voice low.

“You piss me off, Bakugou.”

Katsuki’s steps stutter for just a moment, and then he keeps moving forward. “Get in line, bastard.”

There’s a harsh clang! from behind him, loud and metallic, that can either be the building settling or Todoroki kicking the shit out of something random to avoid punching Katsuki. It's probably the latter. He tends to have that kind of effect on people.

“I don’t know why you seem to hate me more than you hate any of our other classmates, and I’m not sure if I even want to know.” Todoroki’s words echo against the walls. “I just want it to stop.” When Katsuki doesn’t respond, he seems to get even more angry, and his voice has a waspish snap to it when he says, “You keep acting like I’m actively dragging you down, but you didn’t even know what you were doing until Kirishima explained it to you. And, even now, you’re just wandering around - do you know where you’re going? Do you even care if we get a bad grade? You keep calling me a bastard, but how am I the bastard when you’re pretty much useless?”

“Fine,” Katsuki snaps, fists clenched so tightly that they ache. “You don’t want my help finding the damn hostage dummy? You’re on your own.”

“You aren’t even helping!”

“You aren’t, either! You’re just following me around like a fucking dog!”

Todoroki sucks in a sharp breath, presumably preparing to accuse Katsuki, once again, of being useless, and Katsuki readies himself to say something scathing in reply, but then before either of them can speak the ceiling shudders above their heads.

Todoroki’s first reaction, apparently, is to look at Katsuki with wide, accusing eyes. “What’d you do?”

Katsuki sneers at him. “I didn’t do shit.” But he looks up, worried, as the building gives another rumble, louder than the first and so deep that his teeth rattle in his jaw.

Todoroki takes a step back, then another. “Maybe -” he starts, but Katsuki never learns what he’s about to say, because, at that moment, the entire fucking ceiling collapses. The unfortunate thing about that is that Katsuki happens to be standing in just the right spot to get whacked in the head with a falling chunk of concrete.

He hits the ground like a sack of fucking rocks.

Pain rings through his skull with the clarity of a church bell, and everything is dark. He can’t tell if it's dark because he has his eyes closed or if it's dark because all the lights are broken, but it's dark, fucking dark, and then a flame fizzles to life right by his face and he realizes that, yes, his eyes had been open the entire time.

“Bakugou?” Todoroki asks. “Are you alright?”

History echoes. History repeats. Todoroki and Dabi are more alike than they should be, and that’s not something that Katsuki can outrun. That’s not something that he can fight.

He is waking up in his dorm, as is the norm these days, and he is slumped over his desk. He’d fallen asleep while doing homework, or while studying - he can’t tell. His vision blurs if he focuses too hard. He stands up. Stretches. When he turns around, Dabi is sitting on his bed, reading one of Katsuki’s books. Katsuki goes by him into the adjacent bathroom, expecting and accepting Dabi’s presence. As he walks past, Dabi clamps a hand around the back of Katsuki’s neck.

Glad you decided to join us, kid.

Katsuki wakes with a jolt, panting, his chest aching with how hard his heart is beating.

The banality of the horror is what makes it terrifying. The idea that he accepted Shigaraki’s offer. That he said yes.

The idea that Dabi would be able to find him regardless of his location.

Breathe, Katsuki tells himself. In, out. In. Out. Breathe. There’s no one here, no one is touching you, stop acting like this.

The first thing he notices is that his tongue is pasted to the roof of his mouth with concrete dust. He tastes blood and grit whenever he swallows, which he does, convulsively, trying to clear his throat. He coughs, once, harsh, and just in his periphery, a figure appears, fuzzy and indistinct and shaking in the wavering, flickering light.

“Good morning, Bakugou.” Todoroki steps into view, and Katsuki sees that his shoulder is coated in flames, casting shadows over his skin. “Or afternoon. I don’t know how long we’ve been down here.”

Katsuki blinks at him, his still slightly-incoherent mind overlaying the image of Dabi on his classmate’s face, blurring the two together until they look like the exact same person. He can’t keep himself from tensing when Todoroki crouches on the ground beside him, and the movement sends a flare of pain racing up his leg. He sucks in a sharp breath and squeezes his eyes shut, but they fly back open not a second later when he hears Todoroki ask, “What’s your favorite color?”

Katsuki winces as Todoroki puts his hands on his leg, stares at him, uncomprehending. “What?”

“Personally,” Todoroki says, “I like the color blue.”

“Like, a computer error screen?”

“No, light blue. Almost white.”

“Fucking basic -”

Todoroki shoves his hands down hard on the lower half of Katsuki’s leg. There’s a hot burst of blinding pain and Katsuki curses, trying to pull away, but Todoroki just holds him in a firm grip, unrelenting. Katsuki sags back against the ground, gasping for air, tears burning the corners of his eyes.

“Bastard,” he hisses between gritted teeth.

Todoroki gives him a look that’s almost apologetic. “It was broken,” he explains. “I had to set the bone.”

“Well, it hurt like a bitch, Icy-Hot.” Katsuki lets his head loll back until he’s staring at what remains of the ceiling. He can dimly see lights blinking sporadically up above, not close enough to really be any help but close enough to annoy the shit out of him. “How’d that happen, anyways?”

“A tile fell on your leg. I had to pull it off.”

“No, not - not that. How’d the fucking building collapse on us?”

Todoroki doesn’t respond right away, just follows Katsuki’s gaze to the gaping hole above them. Then he says, thoughtfully, “Maybe Aizawa-sensei accidentally hit the destabilizers.”

“The… what?”

“The destabilizers,” Todoroki repeats. “In the control room. Every building is wired to the control panels, so Aizawa can basically do anything he wants down there, including -” he glances back up at the ceiling, grimaces “- cause a cave in.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe he saw that we were fighting and decided to lighten the mood.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“It was a joke, Bakugou.” Todoroki frowns at him. “You really do have a concussion, don’t you?”

Does he?

Katsuki shifts, pushing himself up with his arms, wincing at the ache of his entire body. “Maybe,” he says, struggling into a sitting position. “Do you think that’s why my head hurts?”

“I’m surprised if all it’s doing is hurting, seeing as you got hit pretty solidly.”

“Ah, well.” Katsuki brings his fingers to his scalp, hissing out a breath when his fingers come back wet and glistening red in Todoroki’s impromptu torchlight. “My mom always said I had a thick skull.”

Todoroki coughs, loud and sudden, and the sound is suspiciously similar to a laugh. He smothers it in a closed fist, coughs again, and then looks at Katsuki. “Do you think that you can walk?”

Katsuki stares at him for a long, long moment. “Can I… walk.”

Realization dawns on Todoroki’s face, wavering and uncertain in the light of his flames. “Oh,” he says, just that, and then falls silent.

“I mean, maybe if you made me a splint…”

“I don’t have the materials.”

“That is the lamest excuse I have heard in my entire life, Icy-Hot,” Katsuki says, but, as he looks around, he realizes that it's also the truth. “Damnit. So, what? We just wait around to be saved?” Before Todoroki can say anything, he answers himself, “No. No way. Help me stand up, Icy-Hot.” “But your leg -”

“Fuck my leg.” He holds out a hand, expectant, and, with what is obviously great reluctance, Todoroki reaches down and takes it.

“Are you sure?” Todoroki asks, and, when Katsuki nods, he sighs and hauls Katsuki to his feet.

The regret is instantaneous.

His world screeches to a halt as the consequences of his own fucking stupidity hit him like a tidal wave, rolling in over his head and drowning out Todoroki’s voice with the roar of his pulse in his ears. Fuck, he thinks. Fuck. Bad idea. Really, really bad idea. The pain is like a living thing, an animal with a thousand teeth, gnawing at his leg. He doesn’t know if he’s crying. He doesn’t even know if he’s breathing. All he knows is that his entire body is burning and he’s very, very close to passing out again.

Finally, he’s able to hear past the sound of his own heartbeat. “Bakugou?” Todoroki is asking. He sounds halfway between annoyed and concerned, but the annoyance melts off as soon as Katsuki hisses a ragged, shaking breath between his teeth. “Do you need to sit back down?”

Katsuki shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He can feel blood dripping down his face, the wound apparently having opened again from being jostled. “I’m fine,” he somehow manages to say, even though he’s pretty sure that his leg isn’t the only thing that’s broken. It's fine. He’s fine. He just needs to get the fuck out of here so that he can go to Recovery Girl and find out what freak accident landed him in this situation in the first place.

He really, really hopes that it was an accident.

“- ugou,” he hears Todoroki say, and he realizes that Todoroki had been talking to him the entire time. He also realizes that, at some point of time, he’s been shifted so that his arm is around Todoroki’s shoulders. Todoroki has put out his flames and relit them in his hand so that Katsuki doesn’t get burned, and Katsuki’s pride demands that he yank away and try to walk on his own, but, the moment that the thought occurs, he’s overwhelmed with a full-body ache of exhaustion that leaves him so dizzy that he feels physically sick to his stomach. Todoroki repeats, “Bakugou.”

“What?” Katsuki snaps, trying to turn his head so that he can see Todoroki’s face, so that he can glare at him. It doesn’t work out as planned, though, and just leaves him feeling even worse than before.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Icy-Hot, fuckin’ peachy, just give me a moment,” he tries to say, but knows as soon as the words leave his mouth that maybe a third of them come out as planned. He hears Todoroki take a short, sharp breath, and then there’s a foom! sound that makes Katsuki’s heart stop, and the flames in Todoroki’s hand burn bigger and brighter than ever, too close, too fucking close, and he jerks away and the world turns into a kaleidoscope of up-down-up and when his vision clears he’s still standing but the fire is gone and Todoroki is holding onto him so tightly that it hurts.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Todoroki says, slow. “I’ll go and get help. How does that sound?”

Katsuki feels so confused. He feels like he’s miles away from everything that matters, tethered to the ground only by the pain ringing through his body. He feels like he’s about to throw up, like he’s dying, and he knows that what Todoroki is saying is logical, is the best choice, but he’s not quite selfless enough to go along with it. The idea of being stuck here, in the dark, by himself, injured and helpless and alone…

He shakes his head.

Todoroki sighs, and Katsuki can’t help but wonder if that question had been a test. If he was meant to say yes. If he was meant to give up and give in, if refusing made him more of a burden than an asset.

Has everything been a test?

Has Katsuki learned the wrong lesson from all of them?

Has Katsuki learned anything?

“... Right,” Todoroki says, and the flames flicker back to life, lighting his face in a campfire glow. Katsuki forces himself not to flinch, just closes his eyes and breathes in deep. There’s nothing stopping Todoroki from dropping him and leaving. He has to remember that. They’re not standing on equal ground right now, because Katsuki is hurt, Katsuki is useless. He has to remember. “Well, then. Just lean against me, I guess. Don’t put weight on your leg.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Katsuki says, enunciating each word to make sure that it comes out clear, to make sure the clusterfuck of a sentence that he said a few minutes earlier doesn’t happen again. “Recovery Girl will fix it.”

Todoroki starts forward, his arm braced against Katsuki’s back to prod him to follow, and it's a while before he talks again. When he does, though, he says, “But it’ll hurt. You shouldn’t put yourself through more pain than necessary.”

“I don’t give a shit, Icy-Hot. I just wanna get out of here.”

Todoroki adjusts his grip so that he’s supporting more of Katsuki’s weight. He says, almost casually, “You never told me what your favorite color was,” and now Katsuki recognizes it for what it is, an attempt to take his mind off the pain.

A thought flutters across his mind, unbidden. Dabi wouldn’t do that. He stumbles a little bit, rights himself, is quiet for a moment before he says, “Orange.” He swallows, says, “And I like green.”

“What kind of green?”

“Dark -” Out of nowhere, nausea slams into him, making his throat tighten and his head spin. Spots dance in his vision and he blinks, blinks again, shaky on his feet and tripping over himself, and it's a minute or so before he can speak again but Todoroki is patient, Todoroki waits and doesn’t force an answer, and the thought comes back, full-force, Dabi wouldn’t do that.

Is his mind trying to convince him that there’s no reason to see similarities between Todoroki and Dabi?

Is that what’s happening?

Has he stooped so low that his own damn brain has to slip him sly reminders that his classmate isn’t a villain?

Dabi wouldn’t do that.

Yeah.

He knows.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, low in his throat.

Todoroki glances at him, eyebrows slightly raised. “Me?”

Katsuki shakes his head, wonders if he should explain. No. That’s not the kind of thing you tell anyone, ever, that you’ve been mentally comparing them to a kidnapper for weeks, that you don’t hate them, you just hate their Quirk, something they can’t control. It's easier, he thinks, if he doesn’t breathe a word about it. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. But isn’t that what they all said?

He shivers so hard that it's almost a convulsion. Todoroki’s grip tightens, and, when Katsuki looks over, he sees that he’s staring at him with obvious concern. Katsuki resists the urge to laugh. Todoroki is worried about him. Todoroki is worried about him, and it's actually showing on his face, and so that means that Katsuki must look really, really fucking bad.

They keep walking, with Katsuki getting increasingly more disconnected with every step. His entire body is nothing but pain. His entire life is nothing but pain. He is the embodiment of pain, and it's all his fucking fault because he couldn’t stop arguring with Todoroki.

Just before they reach the stairs, Katsuki turns to the side and throws up. It's nothing but stomach acid, and then it turns into dry heaving. He braces himself against the wall, panting, involuntary tears streaming from his eyes. There’s a hand on his back, steady, and he blinks and Todoroki is there, leaning down to look at him.

“Bakugou,” he says.

“I’m fine,” Katsuki says. Maybe. He doesn’t really know if he’s spoken at all, doesn’t know if this is just a dream, a delusion. He says it again, “I’m fine,” and straightens back up. He wipes a hand across his mouth. “Let’s go.”

“Bakugou, we need to go up the stairs. I’m not sure -”

“I said, let’s go.”

Todoroki frowns. He wants to argue, Katsuki can tell, but Katsuki doesn’t give him time to say anything - he just slings his arm back around Todoroki’s shoulder and waves a hand towards the stairs. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go.”

And so they do.

#whumptober2022 #no.12 #cave in #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #fic #nitro whumptober 2022

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niennandil-me-writes · 2 years

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Goretober 22: Body Horror

cn: demonic possession, mind control, cannibalism mention

“You didn’t really think those symbols would stop me for long, did you?”

The words don’t come from inside her mind. The voice is similar but not the entirely the same, and not singular. Multiple mouths grin up at her from her arms, yet more tearing open all over her body like wounds filled with sharp teeth, some thin like hundreds of needles, some thick and sharp, some in multiple rows like the teeth of a shark. The mouths twist as they start a discordant laughter. As they open, they break apart the symbols on her body, just another mockery of her struggle.

“no” Esra’s voice is a whisper compared to the cacophony that is Str’vlthoqalkhrov – no, Steve. She can’t let it have power over her. She has to fight back. Like she did back then.

It blinks its eyes, one after the other. One on her cheek, one in the palm of her hand, many all the way down her spine, whose vision gets blocked by her sweater. The rest can see though, and in many different ways. Strange visions flood Esra’s brain, too much, too complicated. She closes her eyes – her own eyes – but it only makes the weird images flickering in colors she can’t name and dimensions her brain can’t grasp more prevalent.

She tries to focus inward, search for that seat of the otherworldly entity within herself, that strand of energy that is both the source of her magic and all her grievances, which she calls Steve and imagines as a purple string. Currently that string is running through her, and wherever it touches her skin, an eye or mouth appears, and wherever it touches her muscles, Steve gains just a little more control over her body, and wherever it touches a synapse, Steve can access her thoughts.

She tries to pull on the purple string and roll and knot it into a ball, which she can then lock away again in a piece of her brain where it can do the least amount of damage, and where her own mind can guard it day and night. It took all her energy the last time she did that, but this time, it is even more difficult. The string is longer, more resistant, she can’t even grasp it without Steve pulling itself away from her. And then it overpowers her completely, tying her up in itself.

It would be so easy to give in. Once upon a time, Esra fought back. But now she’s tired. So tired. She just wants to sleep. She feels like she hasn’t slept in ages. It's over. There’s no strength left to her, nobody left to help her. She wants to whisper an apology, but despite all the mouths covering her body, she can’t talk.

There’s a hunger deep inside in her, a hunger that doesn’t come from her. Insatiable, it demands for food, it wants living flesh, and psychic energy, it wants to devour rock and wood and land, it wants to gobble up this entire plane of existence. More mouths open and snap and chew, like they are already on their way to follow this need.

There’s something pulsating in her neck, something straining against her choker. And then the fabric breaks apart under the pressure, pieces of lead runes falling to the ground around her. Through the eyes on her arms, she can look at her neck, where her skin has become pale and translucent to show the vibrant purple piece of scale implanted there. It’s moving beneath her skin, beating like a second heart.

#my writing #oc writing #goretober #goretober 2022 #gore #esra scheele #str'vlthoqalkhrov #steve #bottom of the sea #cn body horror

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lesbianmontrosepretty · 1 year

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silly little ethersea doodles<3

guess who wants to get good at drawing and also happens to be relistening to taz ethersea (along w/ a bunch of lovely folks over on the blink shark discord) :)

so i've decided! to try (big emphasis on try) to do a little drawing for every episode I listen to! most definitely nothing fancy.

i would like to ask anyone looking at these to please be kind, since i am a beginner at art and am mainly doing this for my own enjoyment, as well as to share my silly little brain thoughts with the internet, but don't expect them to be like. amazing ahahah. we're just here to rotate our sea blorbos like a microwave<3 (if you want content where i actually know what i'm doing you can always check out my writing blog or my ao3 wink wink nudge nudge)

thinking about tagging them with #ethersea.jpg but idk? might do #lex relistens to ethersea. might do both. either way, i'm looking forward to it! should be posting the first ones (prologue 1 through ep. 2) in the next few days! ahh exciting!

#the adventure zone #taz ethersea #taz fanart #it is. SO scary to use that tag. as like someone who is still learning #blink shark discord #lex relistens to ethersea #ethersea.jpg

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dustednotepad · 2 years

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THE REVOLUTION WILL BE SUBTWEETED

the censors have blocked all except "LOVE YOUR NATION, WORSHIP YOUR ROUTER" their subtlety has become endearing in the newspaper articles we fall asleep with screenshots burned onto the back of our eyelids, exploring our timelines even as we sleep i think of the tetris effect as i wake up again, thumb scrolling against my thigh, tapping freckles instead of likes i come to the thought of the number of engagements the livestream of my execution will get my fifteen minutes will trend via "#THEWITCHISDEAD", tacked onto sponsored Target tweets and Wendy's roasts Salem is an instruction manual, after all, spliced with doja cat and justin bieber as our overlords throw it back on tiktok we pause to leave our houses, waiting for the "SKIP" button to appear on the thirty-second health supplement ad the smart kids know to hit the info button and mark it as "REPETITIVE" the next ad will be for new shoes my lover smiles at me, and we bump our watches together, updating our heart rates to match when we fuck, they tie my wrists with charger cords and kiss me with a mouth that tastes like tin foil we livestream it and receive three thumbs down and thirty cents of ad revenue we add it to our spotify subscription fund and create another email for netflix trials another screen goes on my ceiling and now i can watch my breakdown streamed in curved 4k we figure out the blacklist is case-sensitive and only type in aLterNAtE raNdOM CaSes, mixing in greek letters and emojis to fill the gaps our next protest has instagram buffering for twenty-eight minutes straight, and we take to discord to celebrate another follower defects and dissapears, only to come back two days later with a new nose and blue hair i shave off half my eyebrow and replace it with a qr code that causes phones to vibrate and emit whale noises the bathroom walls inside of applebees are covered in protest scrawl reading "FUCK YOUR FOREFATHERS, FIND YOUR TRUTH" and we giggle and scribble "OKAY, DADDY" in loopy, lipstick letters underneath it at dawn we stay in bed, awake but unmoving, the sun rising in the corners of our eyes as we check for war and shark week updates i choke on tv static seltzers as the world ends not with a bang, but a loud voice followed by nothing but silence, nothing but bright blue light punctuated by broken code and frowny faces under the cover of dead airwaves we burn down the last of the radio towers and decorate the telephone poles like christmas trees, complete with faulty wiring and endlessly blinking lights my lover dies and i fail to fit their eulogy in 280 characters or less i write it on a green electric box anyway and post the audio to soundcloud another white boy of the month is martyred, his intestines a red smear across monument steps, and all i can think of is chewing aluminum foil between my teeth eventually, they shut off our hotspots and kill our bluetooth connections, and i can't remember how to get to the safehome i've been to a thousand times before we create a time machine and it quickly becomes a suicide box, sending ourselves back in time and dying long before we're born no one comes back, at least nothing here changes, or maybe it already had the sunsets are more colorful now, and the air we breathe tastes like cinnamon and orange juice, filtered through our gas masks another country kills itself off and i create a new pinterest board in memorium eventually, riot gear and talks of revolution fall out of style, and we fall into thrift stores and dumpsters, others in body bags and unmarked graves i set my cremation date, and they stamp it on me along with a matching bag of shredded cheese, both of us reading "USE BY" after it's over, i return home, make a pot of cold coffee, and wait for the next trend to rise

#story #stories #poem #poetry #writeblr #writing #windows notepad #subtweet #revolution #the revolution will be subtweeted

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high-hime · 2 years

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A/N: This was written for a secret Santa event on the Squid Game Simps discord! Took a bit to write because of writer's block, but I did it! Please enjoy! ❤️

Words: 4,575

Rated: M

Genre: Smut with plot

(strangers, instant attraction, unprotected sex)

Pairing: Seong Gihun/Female Reader

"THE CONVENIENCE STORE"

Gihun was more down on his luck than ever, lighting his last cigarette that was half crumpled in his pocket, before cursing under his breath. A puff of winter air left his lips before shakily trying to light said cigarette. Click, click. No good. The red lighter in his grip shot blank, and one could see through it that the fluid was shallow at the bottom. If there was ever a time where he needed a cigarette, now was one of those times.

His daughter's birthday had passed, and he spent what little he had after that beating he took from the loan sharks. Two days later, and a bitter voicemail from his ex wife sitting in his inbox, her words haunted him. "Gihun-ah, why did you get our daughter a GUN shaped lighter for her birthday?!! Why would a child carry something so dangerous?! Next time, don't get her anything. Then again, we won't be in Korea much longer."

His face twisted to a sad, disappointed expression. How pathetic was he? A disappointment to his daughter, and even moreso, a man without a working lighter, sitting outside of his local convenience store with the last of his cash on hand, long spent on alcohol and his last pack of cigarettes, both of which by now, were long consumed.

His tired brown eyes gazed at the neon sign of the establishment as people quietly passed him by. At an hour like this, the small city never slept, and neither did he.

The longer he attempted to light the cigarette, the more frustrated he came. The world was crashing down onto him, and it was always a losing game. He was getting fucking sick of it.

"Shibal!" He cursed before his lighter slipped out of his cold grip, clicking faintly on the concrete.

Then, he saw you. A young woman in a long coat and a purple scarf, watching him with a bit of shock and curiosity. Why was he so upset over a lighter? You wondered as your eyes met his with a few blinks. He seemed safe enough to approach and you simply stood and observed him.

Upon seeing such an attractive girl like yourself, of course he shook his head and regained some composure, giving you a boyish grin and nervous laughter. Was that a blush you could see?

"A-ah, hello! Ah! S-sorry for bad English!" He trailed off in English, respectfully noting that you were a foreigner.--a rather beautiful foreign girl at that.

"Don't worry about it, please!" You replied in his language with a sweet smile.

Gihun quickly gave up his attempt at English and switched back to Korean as you shook your head and waved a hand in reassurance. He sighed in relief that you spoke it so fluently.

"Also, I apologize if I startled you! Did you need help with something?" Gihun asked you.

You couldn't help but smile a bit, and he gazed at your foreign features with a warm expression. It was quite rare that he bumped into tourists or foreign students, much less ones that knew Korean as well as you did.

"No, my apartment is nearby and I just wanted a midnight snack. Then, I saw you seemed pretty....

upset? I was just concerned! Sorry for staring!"

You apologized, blushing at his charming looks. Even in the disheveled state this man was in, he was very good looking. Just your type too--tall, messy, a bit wild? He sure was passionate about his lighters, anyway.. you wondered if you should offer to get him a new one, since you were heading into the store anyway.

During the short silence, He noticed your curious gaze that dropped to the lighter that had been thrown onto the ground, and he quickly waved up his hands in a flustered manner. He laughed nervously.

"Ah, ah, aniya! I'm usually not so callous with my belongings! I've--just had a long day, you know? and my lighter is finished. I think that's simply a sign for me to just stop smoking and go home, right?" He laughed it off, hoping he didn't seem too neurotic on the surface.

You whined quietly. You liked his company, so you felt bold.

"No! I mean, you don't have to go home just yet. I was just heading into the convenience store, and I'd love your company! I'm Y/N."

Smooth, and yet immediately direct in your approach. You've been so busy with working in Seoul during your long days that you've haven't had the time to meet men here. It was a very late Saturday night, so why not be a little shameless?

Your big brown eyes checked him out further as his brows raised in intrigue. He didn't seem to mind this idea of yours. He looked older, but you liked that. He was hot, and you wanted to catch his interest. You bit your bottom lip, nervous if he'd oblige.

"I'm Gihun! Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'll keep you company, sure! Wouldn't want any creeps bothering you at this time of night! No one in this town messes with me, you know!" He exaggerated, but gave you that same genuine, boyish grin from earlier as he held the door open for you.

"After you!"

What a gentleman. You weren't easy to please, but chivalry definitely wasn't dead and you enjoyed the kind gesture and headed in to shop.

The brightly lit little store awaited all of your snacking needs. Rows and rows of colorful ramen, candies, chips, sodas, sandwiches, and more were there for the picking. You loved the night time. Saturday nights were your favorite to stay in and curl up with snacks and your favorite drama playing on the big screen tv in your modest apartment. You worked hard to pay for it, after all!

You perked up and threw some ramen packs and a few frozen Tteokkbokki bags into your basket, Gihun watching you joyfully choose your late dinner and snacks for the night as you combed the aisles. You loved the bottles of strawberry milk they had too!

"Wow, you sure love convenience store goods, huh? You must be an easy date to please!" Gihun joked as he followed you at an arm's length behind.

You could hear how genuinely amused he was and you blushed, finishing up your shopping as you kept your back to him for the time being. Was he flirting with you? It made your heart pound. You cleared your throat.

"Erm, easy to please? No way!" You dismissed him with a laugh, feeling as if you were lying to yourself.

This was so unlike you, feeling attraction at first sight like this. Easy? Maybe you were just easy for Gihun.

How shameless.

You ignored the butterflies in your stomach while changing the subject without a beat missed.

"Hey! So, considering your earlier outburst, I'm guessing you need a lighter? I can buy one for you if you'd like!"

Big power move, offering to buy a man you just met something on the first meeting. Maybe your fiery spirit and neglected loins made you act this bold. Hopefully, he'd be impressed instead of insulted.

"Ah??? I really shouldn't be so careless, letting a lady treat me… a lady I just met, too..." Gihun said with a frown, quickly searching his pockets for any won coins to pay for his own lighter at the very least.

"Ah, no! It's fine, seriously! Hey! Just let me do it, got it?" You gently slapped his arm cutely, your expression firm but reassuring.

God, he found you adorable. Such a tiny woman yet so determined on what she wanted to do. Gihun half bowed in gratitude, smirking as you chose a lighter that was displayed at the counter.

"Fine, Y/N. But, Oppa will pay you back for everything next time, you'll see!" Gihun promised, meeting your gaze with a warm, sexy grin.

You felt a second heartbeat between your legs. It was so pathetic, but you were crushing, as if the word Oppa was the secret code to getting you hot and bothered. From a stranger, no less!

"I'll hold you to it, Oppa."

Fuck it, you thought. Why not make your move to keep him guessing and interested?

"Anything else?" The guy behind the counter asked after ringing up your basket of items.

"Yes, actually… two boxes of those condoms, please." You pointed to them while Gihun's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Eh?? Wh-? Y/N-ssi? So suddenly??" Gihun asked you after a moment to think. He wasn't very good at thinking to himself, and was very much an open book. You learned that quickly, and it made you giggle.

"Hm? Is it a crime that a young woman likes to have condoms in her apartment? I always get these. It's very healthy to be safe in case of an "emergency"."

You did all the time, back in the states, anyway. Not here. Not yet here, until now that is. God, you sounded so stale, but figured explaining it so formally would make you look less slutty/promiscuous. You simply wanted to leave an impression on Gihun at this point.

"Right, right! Of course!"

Gihun chuckled at the misunderstanding, sighing in relief. It was intriguing how forward western women were with things like this. It was very intriguing at the end of the day. He wanted to learn even more about you, leading you back outside while he held the door up some steps up ahead.

After he closed the door behind you two, he felt you place the lighter into the palm of his hand.

"It's purple, I hope that's okay." You said sweetly, giving him a shy smile. Quite the different girl compared to earlier.

He grinned a perfect smile and shook his head. You really were something else.

"The color doesn't bother me. Thank you very much for buying it." Gihun said warmly, before pulling you by the hand when rain started to come down hard from the late night sky.

You were pulled back under the convenience store awning as it was pouring rain. A bicyclist that came zooming by just then could have easily could have hit you a moment later, on top of that.

You blushed when you met Gihun's warm gaze. You didn't know it, but this was the happiest he's felt all week considering everything that's happened to him.

"Ah, sorry, Y/N-ssi. Figured you'd want to open that umbrella first." He noted to the compact umbrella that dangled around your wrist by it's string. It was purple with lighter purple polka dots. He found your fascination with the color absolutely adorable. Such a cute girl.

"Right." You said shyly while looking away from his smoldering gaze, opening the umbrella with a push of it's button. You notioned home to walk with you underneath it.

"Wanna have some dinner at my place? It's just around the corner. I know it's late, but It'll pass the time until the rain stops. I wouldn't want you to wait in the cold, you know?"

You handed Gihun the umbrella to hold and share since he towered over you.

He cleared his throat at your invitation, unable to withhold his laughter at the irony at hand. You didn't know it, but the dinner included ramen, and inviting anyone to ramen at your place was always code for "let's hookup." He dismissed the thought and graciously agreed.

"Sure, sure! That sounds great! You spoil me, Y/N-ssi."

With that, you lead him to your apartment complex that was a short walk away. Into the elevator and four floors up, you were finally home.

Gihun closed your door behind you before taking off his shoes. He watched you scurry up ahead.

"I'm gonna get us some towels and quickly change into something comfy! Feel free to use the house slippers next to the closet!"

Gihun acknowledged you from where he was and hung up his coat, stepping into the guest slippers before he'd enter the rest of the apartment.

He assumed the seat in the huge living room (which was also your bedroom) and watched you multi task like a busy little bee. You boiled two pots and pans of water on the stove for the ramen and Tteokkbokki after you changed into pajamas.

He thanked you for the towel you handed him and ruffled it through his damp, curly hair. He looked around your cutely decorated apartment and noticed the big TV that faced your bed.

"Nice flatscreen! Here I thought you were just an exchange student! Do you work here in Korea?"

He asked from where he sat as you began cooking in the kitchen at light speed.

"Yeah! I'm an English teacher for this fancy middle school in Apgujeong. it pays decently well, honestly!"

"Wow! Bilingual AND educated! That's really impressive, Y/N-ssi!"

You laughed it off and prepared both servings of food. Delicious ramen mixed with Tteokkbokki sauce, the rice cakes and some freshly cut green onion and fishcake you had in your fridge. You invited Gihun over to the table to come and eat.

"Ah, smells great! Thank you!" Gihun bowed cutely before digging into the hot meal in front of him.

As you two ate, Gihun opened up about his recent unfortunate events. You didn't know someone so kind could be so down on his luck. He didn't tell you everything, but he did say that he needed to do something before it was too late. You were definitely rooting for him to complete that goal.

It made your heart melt that he was a father, too. In his words, the worst father, but from what you were told, you didn't believe that one bit. He sounded like he needed to make things right, and he was determined one way or another. That's what made you believe that he was definitely a good person at heart. You smiled at his resolve.

You got up to take the dishes to the sink, but he got up right after you, insisting on cleaning up since you were kind enough to let him into your home at a time so late in the night.

"Please, let Oppa handle it, Y/N-ssi. It's the least I can do for now." He smiled and you nearly melted into a puddle. How can you say no to a face like that?

God, he's so fucking sexy. You thought, giving in to his request. You allowed him to take the dishes to the kitchen and wash them in the sink, all the while, you went to the living room to play some Spotify on the tv.

Some relaxing instrumental music (reader decides) was one of your favorite things to help you settle in on a late night.

Gihun washed his hands and left the dishes out to dry before he went over to join you where you sat. He enjoyed your music taste as he closed his eyes with a yawn.

"You think I missed the last train, Y/N-ssi?" He thought out loud, leaning back into the small couch that was next to your bed.

You looked at the time on your phone, surprised at how much later it had gotten. Time went by so fast when you were with this man, and you found yourself wanting even more of it. So greedy of you, but you couldn't deny it.

Gihun explained that this was a bad habit of his, and happened often; staying out late and having to walk home.--which was in the next town over and almost an hour's walk.

"No way you're walking in this rain! It doesn't seem to be letting up, either…" You simply refused that idea right away.

Gihun scratched his head with intrigue, wondering what you had planned next.

"Yeah, so, what are you suggesting then, Y/N-ssi?"

You gave him an inviting smile and batted your lashes at him. Fuck the pure girl image. You wanted Gihun to know that he could depend on you anytime from now on. It was the mature woman approach from here on.

"Let your mother know that you'll be home tomorrow morning. I insist you spend the night here and let the storm pass! You can shower and sleep on the guest futon, alright?"

Gihun blinked several times, wondering when your kind hospitality would end. You never ceased to surprise him. You didn't sound like you were asking, so how could he refuse? You sure we're a caring girl for a nobody like him. A stranger at that.

"Hey, Y/N-ssi! Do you always invite strange men into your home like this? You're lucky I'm harmless, you know!"

You laughed while you showed him to the bathroom, handing him a clean towel. You knew his words were coming from a good place, and he wasn't wrong about the last part. You never did something like this before, but there was something about Gihun that made you trust him. Maybe you were crazy to take such a risk, but you didn't sense any danger from the unlucky man. Sue you.

"No, Oppa, I don't. I can just tell when someone needs a supportive friend. The sleepover part was on a whim, you could say! Let me know if you need anything!"

You quickly left him to his own thoughts before he could question you further, closing the bathroom door behind you.

He laughed to himself and turned on the hot shower. He had bruises all over his ribs and shoulders from what had happened with the loans sharks a few days ago. They were healing, but they looked worse during the process. He hoped you would bring him a shirt so you wouldn't worry or ask any questions.

Gihun sighed as his back met the wall. The room filled with steam and the hot water trickled down his aching muscles. He closed his eyes and waited a bit to wash up.

Meanwhile, you were setting up the futon, spreading it out on the carpet, adjacent to your bed. You gave him a fluffed up pillow and a warm blanket. As nice as this apartment looked, the walls between the bathroom and the rest of your living space was quite thin.

Gihun didn't know it, but you could hear the relaxed groans and sounds he was making from the shower. You felt weak. He sounded so fucking sexy, and it sounded like he felt good. You were indeed getting wet too, and it was so slutty of you. You felt a needy ache between your legs. You never felt more perverted than now, and you went over to sit against the bathroom door that separated the two of you.

Gihun had finished washing his body and simply let himself soak under the hot shower's stream. Water trickled over his defined stomach and down his legs and of course, naturally erecting cock.

It was natural as the room was hot and heat, indeed caused him to get a bit hard. Gihun looked down at his healthy girth and decided to entertain it, gripping it firmly as it erected fully in his grip.

He glanced to the side, hesitant at first, wondering if you'd be able to hear him from the livingroom as the music played from the tv. There was no way, right? You wouldn't be able to hear if he just…

You blushed when his sounds continued, your heart pounding against your abundant chest. He sounded much more lewd this time, his breaths sounding quick as his voice bounced off of the tiled walls. There was no doubt about it; he was jerking off! Right now, in your shower!

Your own hand slipped between your legs, pressing on top of the pajama pants that felt the tiniest bit damp at the touch, when your fingers pressed against your clothed heat. Fuck, what were you doing? Touching yourself at the same time he was? In such close proximity? This was wild, even for you.

Gihun gripped his fat, hard cock, jerking it back and forth in the way that he liked. The hot water trickled down. His hands and fingers were already slippery from the body wash you kept near the faucet, so it was just enough lube to feel damn fucking good. His head tilted back in ecstasy.

Your body flinched at what he groaned out.

"Y/N-ssi! Just like that!"

Fuck, you swallowed your nerves, shaking your own head in disbelief. You had to of been dreaming, right?

You couldn't deny how turned on you were becoming, slipping your hand underneath your pajama pants to finger fuck yourself at what was happening. You fucking loved how your name sounded leaving Gihun's lips. You wished you could hear it again.

Your fingers pressed to your clit after slipping out of your needy little hole, and you began rubbing.

"Ah, Y/N-ssi!" Gihun said again, and you smiled in ecstasy that your wish was fulfilled. You pressed harder against your swelling clit, rubbing up and down to the rythm of Gihun's lewd breaths. Never has a man sounded so hot the way he was, stroking his cock to the thought of you.

You couldn't help but let out a moan, moaning out his name a bit louder than you should have, forgetting how thin the walls were.

"Gihun! Ah--!"

Gihun's breath hitched. That barely muffled, high pitched cry was definitely his name. He listened further with focus. He could hear you touching yourself, with your back pressed on the other side of the bathroom door.

His gaze widened, staring at the door while your sounds continued. Was he hallucinating? Why was he even more turned on at the thought of you touching together? He asked himself, what the fuck should he do now?

He shrugged and closed his eyes again, thinking about your curvy little figure naked. He didn't get much of an opportunity to leer at you in the convenience store, (mostly out of respect) but he could tell you had a very sexy hourglass shape to you. His favorite part of you was indeed your pretty little face, as well as those sexy lips of yours. He jerked himself off even faster, seeing what your move would be from here.

You were behind the door, rubbing your clit even faster to his breaths, moaning out in pleasure as your sex was now soaking wet. What you heard him say made you tremble where you sat.

"Y/N-ssi! Let me inside of you!"

Shit, what now? Why was Gihun so vocal when he thought he was in private? Your thoughts ran a mile a minute. You couldn't take it anymore. Your name leaving his lips was enough to help you make this decision.

You entered the bathroom, closing the door behind you to not let any of steam escape.

Gihun stopped what was he was doing and gazed at you in near shock. He flinched and covered himself with both hands, turning slightly away. He couldn't believe you were here.

"Y/N-ssi…?!"

Fuck it, you didn't care about formalities anymore. You didn't care that he was a stranger. You quickly stripped of your pajama pants and button down shirt and walked over to your guest.

"Fucking take me, please." Your eyes locked and Gihun's hesitant stare shifted to a smoldering, knowing gaze. You gave him the green light he needed.

Head tilted, Gihun pulled you into a passionate kiss. Over and over, your lips pressed and met in a smacking frenzy of warmth and lust. His hands gripped to your hips as you pressed your naked body against his.

The hot water ran over your long hair and soft skin as Gihun let his back press against the wall.

Your thigh ran up the side of his leg and he held it up, and immediately, his cock met your soaking wet fuck hole. You pressed as close as you could get, crying out in pleasure while his fat cock slid so easily inside of you. Your hands held to his shoulders for support, and with ease, he lifted your small body up, his large hands cupping beneath your ass.

"Ah!"

Gihun thrusted in careful intervals so that he wouldn't fall, and still he guided you to bounce on his cock with a firm grip on your jiggling ass cheeks. You followed his rhythm and rode his fat cock, digging your nails into his defined shoulders.

Fuck, he felt so good. His girth was stretching your tight pussy, and you bouncing on him at your favorite pace made his tip venture deeper inside of you. He was hitting that g-spot, over and over again.

"You fuck me so good!" You cried into his ear, making him smirk as he began thrusting even faster.

You entangled your hands in his hair and kissed him wildly. It felt so hot and tight inside of you, and you loved how fat his cock was, pushing up into you like there was no tomorrow. You were pulsating, feeling so fucking close. He gave you a knowing look. He could feel it.

"Y/N-ssi… Can I…? He was asking for permission, switching places while your back gently met the wall now. He adjusted his grip and held you up securely, remaining inside with another push. You gasped.

You ran your fingers over his wet locks and looked him in the eyes. You looked like a lust drunk mermaid as the words left your full lips.

"Gihun, make me fucking cum! And don't pull out."

That's all he needed to hear, fucking you even harder against the wall, now that you had more of a support holding you up to take his deep thrusts.

Your nails scratched down his shoulders while he buried himself deep inside of you. His breaths and groans quickening while he fucked you without restraint.

"I'm! I'm so fucking close! I!"

You screamed, wracked with pleasure as a lust crazed Gihun pumped in and out of you the fastest he could.

"Ah! Fuck… you feel so fucking good!" Gihun groaned into the crook of your neck, moving with you as your back slid up the bathroom wall.

"Gihun! Cum---c-cum inside of me!" You screamed as your juices washed over his cock like a waterfall.

He held you as tight as he could, and with one final stroke, his cock pushed up the deepest it could, filling you up with his load.

You both gasped, and his grip on you eventually relaxed as your back slowly slid down the wall. He placed you gently on your feet before turning the shower off for now.

He laid on his back on the tiled, watery flooring, laughing up at the ceiling in an intoxicated daze. Fuck, that was amazing.

You joined him and he held to your hand when you laid on his chest, looking into his eyes.

Gihun kissed your lips a few times before going back to catch his breath. His strong hand stroked your hair out of your face and rubbed your back. You nearly fell asleep, but got up the strength to speak after a few minutes.

"Get me some plan B in the morning, please. The convenience store should have it." You said quietly as Gihun flinched where you two cuddled.

"Gihun....?"

"Mm?" He asked with a relaxed smile, leaving his eyes closed.

Shibal!" Gihun said, jolting up, loud enough to stop you from dozing off. You laughed and he sat up. He knew he'd better get going!

#seong gi hun #seong gi hoon #squid game smut #squid game #smut with plot #gi hun x you #gi hun x reader #gi hun fluff #seong gihun imagine

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witchygirl99 · 3 years

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finding a photo of your enemy as a toddler, inukag

Ask, and you shall receive.

1800 words under the cut. Not edited. Written at work so it was a shoddy rush job and everything is very vague and you'll just have to accept this.

I'll write a proper, better video gamer AU one day. For now though...

Won't You Say (You Love Me, Too)

The thing is—

The thing is that Inuyasha isn’t meant to be here. Sure, he’s a little drunk. And sure, Koga’s stupid face dared him, because Koga is both stupid, has a face, and that face is stupid. Inuyasha didn’t have to listen, though. Inuyasha could have done a billion other things, like walk away, or laugh the dare off, or – or – could have even gotten himself another drink.

That… That would have been the smarter plan.

Inuyasha hiccups, flinching at the noise. He is so not supposed to be here.

“Inuyasha,” stupid Koga hisses from below. It’s probably supposed to be a whisper. It’s not. It’s like…quieter yelling, but yelling nonetheless.

Haughtily, Inuyasha glares down at his teammate. The window that he’s jimmied open to break into the Priestess House is still open. It’s unseasonably warm for an autumn night, but it’s strangely comforting. At least, Inuyasha thinks so. That could just be the alcohol talking, though.

“Inuyasha,” Koga hisses again, “what do you see?”

He blinks, frowns, and then squints into the dark room. There’s not a ton of illumination from either the moon, or the streetlights. He thinks, dimly, that this is a…bedroom? A bedroom. This is not, in fact, the office that they thought they were breaking into.

[Read the rest below the cut.]

He takes in a deep breath, brain pinging at him worriedly. He knows this scent. It’s familiar. Too familiar. Inuyasha should know whose room he’s in and it’s on the tip of his tongue – his nose? No, that’s not a saying – when Koga makes another hissing sound.

Ugh.

“What?” Inuyasha snarls, so desperate to glare out the window at his stupid teammate and at said stupid teammate’s face that he nearly stumbles. Bracing himself on the little table underneath, he makes a point to roll his eyes when the wolf demon waves alarmingly at him. “What is so urgent that you need to—”

“I hear them,” Koga whisper-yells, because he’s stupid. “They’re just down the street.”

“What?” he exclaims, but this time it’s desperate rather than irritated. “I thought Miroku said the girls would be gone for at least an hour.”

“Well, his intel is shit,” Koga replies. “Now get out!”

So much for sneaking into their offices to find out if any of their playing strategies would be visible. The regional gaming tournament is only two days away, and every single member of the six-person Priestess team has been dominating the competition. Their battle strategies have taken weaker characters and turned them into something surprisingly efficient. It should be impossible. Character stats don’t lie.

And yet. And yet. The women of the Priestess House have made a mockery of nearly everyone there. And the worst of them?

Kagome Higurashi. The absolute bane of his existence. She came onto the scene about three years ago, rising up the ranks. Inuyasha hadn’t even given her a second thought until The Incident last year.

The Incident, in which she—

“Inuyasha,” Koga hisses again, like an angry cat. A cat. Not a wolf. Inuyasha should tell him this. Inuyasha is desperate to tell him this. “You need to jump out the window, you fuck.”

Right. The Priestess girls were coming back. Kagome would be with them and that would be— That would be bad. Not just because of the breaking and entering, or the trespassing. It would be bad because Inuyasha would have to be around her for likely more than a minute, which would mean that he’d have to stare into those dark eyes and that too-kind smile – like they’re friends, which they are not – and then—

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to leave you,” Koga states, and that finally drills through Inuyasha’s pretty drunk skull. Can skulls be drunk?

No?

Maybe.

“I’m coming,” Inuyasha replies, pushing upwards, but he’s an idiot. The table underneath him isn’t that sturdy, and so his pressure on it to climb back out the window from which he entered sends a picture frame crashing to the ground.

“Inuyasha!”

“Oh my god, say my name one more time and I will murder you!” Inuyasha snaps. Koga is not helping, that fucking fuck. “Hold the fuck on, we can’t let them know—” And he bends down to grab the frame and put it back. Hopefully whoever’s room this is won’t notice.

And then he sees the picture in the frame, practically mocking him. It’s fucking Kagome Higurashi, no more than four years old and clinging to a small baby who looks distinctly unhappy by the entire experience. It’s undoubtedly her. While there’s more chub to her cheeks, those are the same sparkling eyes and that’s the same beaming smile. He would know that smile anywhere because it always makes him feel off-balance, confused. No one just smiles at people, at strangers. No one just smiles at you while they’re getting destroyed in one-on-one battle, and then shakes your hand with that same happy smile when they’ve lost. They don’t use that exact same smile when they see you again later in the year, at another tournament, and only stop smiling when they beat you so badly—

Oh god.

Oh fucking god.

This is Kagome’s bedroom. This is Kagome’s bedroom and he’s in her room and—

Kagome Higurashi at four years old smiles the exact same way, and she’s clinging to a little boy and that’s a big purple dinosaur right beside her on the couch. A dinosaur. She likes dinosaurs, oh god this is the worst—

“Godspeed, fucker,” Koga whispers-yells. “We hardly knew ye!” There’s the distinct sound of bushes rustling. His own teammate has abandoned him. Inuyasha is going to commit murder.

Firmly putting down the picture frame, Inuyasha starts the careful climb back out the window. He’s got one leg out, half of his body strained to reach the little lip in the brickwork he climbed up earlier. His hands grab at the sill, twisting him, and then he sees it.

It.

The purple dinosaur.

It’s on her bed, perfectly placed and disgustingly cute.

“Oh no,” Inuyasha groans, and then promptly shoves himself out the window. It takes him ten precious seconds to balance, and then another ten seconds to close the window and hide the fact he ever broke in in the first place. At the first sound of voices, Inuyasha freezes against the brick, propped up in a little corner and distinctly not looking down. It’s not a far drop, but the last thing Inuyasha needs is to lose his balance, topple into the garden, and then have the Priestess women come running to see what the fuck happened.

He waits, breath nearly held, until they start opening the door. There’s enough fuss and discussion that Inuyasha feels safe in making his escape, running away like the hounds of hell are chasing him. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t look back.

When he finds Koga, lounging on the couch and drinking yet another beer at their shared gaming house, it takes a solid ten seconds of very slow counting to remind himself that murder is bad.

Besides, they have a tournament to win on Saturday.

X+X

The next day, Inuyasha finds himself looking for purple dinosaurs on Amazon.

This is, well, not ideal.

“What are you doing?” Hachi asks, eyes narrowed in confusion and then widening in concern when Inuyasha flinches to hide this embarrassing lack of restraint. “Wow, okay.”

“Fuck off,” Inuyasha replies, but he’s too mortified to even make it mean-sounding. He just comes off as pathetic.

There’s a snort in the doorway, and Miroku comes bumbling in with a clipboard. He takes his duties as team manager far too seriously. “What did Hachi do wrong now?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Hachi replies, eyeing Inuyasha again. “He’s the one that went all crazy when I asked him what he was doing.”

“And what was he doing?” Miroku presses. He’s grinning like a fool because he’s the worst. The worst best friend a guy could ask for. Inuyasha doesn’t know why he’s teammates with these idiots. It’s bad enough he’s got to deal with Koga.

“I wasn’t do anything,” he tries, but Hachi’s just shaking his head.

“Looking at his phone. I don’t know.”

Miroku turns to him, a shark that smells blood in the water. “Your phone? Who are you texting?”

“No one,” Inuyasha scoffs. “Fuck off.”

This gets a nod, and he has one moment of hope that Miroku won’t push the issue when his best friend hums. “You’re right. You have no friends outside of this team.”

“I’m not his friend!” Koga yells from somewhere else in the house.

Inuyasha sighs.

“So you must have been watching something.”

“No,” Hachi argues, “he was holding his phone like this. He was reading something, or maybe scrolling?”

“Inuyasha can’t read!” comes Koga’s voice again. They all ignore him.

“You’re not on Instagram,” Miroku hums, playing fucking Sherlock Holmes. “And you’re definitely not on TikTok. Discord is just another form of talking to people, so that’s out.”

Growling, he shoves his phone in the pocket of hoodie and gets up. “I am leaving.”

“Ooh, he’s leaving,” his friend continues, blue eyes alight with something dangerously close to glee. “Fuck, it has to be about Kagome then. That’s the only time you get this pissy.”

“Ha!” Hachi laughs because he, too, is the worst.

“That’s my future wife!” Koga yells from the other room, but that’s just because he’s delusional. As if someone like Koga could fucking rub two braincells together enough to impress her. Inuyasha’s face does a thing at the very thought.

“Oh my god, it is!” Miroku cackles.

“No,” Inuyasha answers, and he thinks he does a pretty good job of remaining calm. “But fuck you, anyways.”

“Are you reading her Wikitubia again?” his friend asks and that is it—

“One time!” Inuyasha yells, storming away from the main room. “That was one time!”

His teammates’ laughter follows him all the way back to his bedroom. Shippo, rubbing at his eyes after his nap – because he acts like a literal child, it’s embarrassing – just stares at him confusedly. “What did I miss?”

Inuyasha doesn’t stop walking. “Absolutely fucking nothing.” He gets into his room, shuts the door with a disturbing amount of care, and then leaps onto his bed to try and suffocate himself with a pillow. The walls of their gaming house aren’t that thick. If he tries hard enough, Inuyasha could hear the shit they’re undoubtedly still talking about him.

One time, Inuyasha pathetically whines in his head. He was only caught staring at her Wikitubia page one time. He was sizing up the enemy. Looking for weaknesses to exploit. That’s the only reason he did it. Just like that’s the only reason he watches her YouTube videos religiously, at least once a day, and always at night once everyone else has fallen asleep.

It’s not because of anything weird. It’s because she’s the enemy. She’s the competition. Inuyasha must figure out a way to destroy her.

Later that night, when he goes back to re-watching an old YouTube video of hers – one Kagome had posted within the first month of her rise to so-called fame – that he sees it.

It.

The purple dinosaur.

Sitting propped up on some pillows, like a prized treasure.

“Motherfucker,” Inuyasha snaps. He doesn’t stop the video, though. There could be secrets. Weaknesses to exploit. Yadda yadda yadda, he’s not in denial, this is only his third time watching it, blah blah—

Kagome smiles in the video and his chest does the thing.

Inuyasha sighs. Miroku can never, ever see his browsing history.

X+X

Tagging: @ideasthatbuildcities @wolfcry77 @alerialblu @misspepperpottss @sailorbabydoll92 @willowandfog @amethystablaze @fawn-eyed-girl @noyourenotreal @hnn-wnchstr @liz8080 @nsr0716 @superpixie42 @itzatakahashi @mandirox89 @inussunflower @cstormsinukagblog @nartista @hopidoodle @princessinume @lavendertwilight89 @anxietyaardvark @omgitscharlie @theinuyashareader @ruddcatha @umacaking @kagometaishostory @cammysansstuff @sacred-arrow-writes @sacred-arrow @gicu2 @neutronstarchild @kalcia

#WYSYLMT #witchy writes #witchy answers #inukag #inukag fanfiction #inukag fanart #inuyasha fanfiction

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