#But for the most part it was just whatever my brain decided was bad in that exact moment

[from-the-owls-nest]

mhm. what if you're too broken, in too tiny pieces, even the base too shattered to rebuild from. what if there's too little good left.

*swallow* that... that probably wasn't the most helpful answer. but I know what you mean. and I don't really have a fix or anything.

*drily, like, ironically* should probably clarify that the you in that first sentence meant me and just me. so. before you get any more ideas. because of course for Me that's Different! At least for my chaos brain tangles.

[ooc: Philosophy Below. idk brain ran away with thoughts call me if u find it /silly]

*silence, thinking over the words again* I don't know. All I can hope is that - that sentence from the movie Aria likes. When we can see no future, all we can do is the next right thing. the next little ray of sunlight. the next little moment of peace.

And if none of that is possible... Wait, and hold on, and look for them, and hope they come back soon. This is just my thoughts - my little agreement with myself. I gotta try the best I can, even if the best I can is a break from trying to recover. And then I'll know that Past Me did their best for me now and that I owe it to Future me to do my best for what they might become. Even if they weren't very successful. Like deciding that however I am right now is me too, and so I am all these things and parts, the good and the rough ones, and they all together make the full me. It's these nice little shortcut across the self blaming and infighting that take a long time to work out but help wherever they hold.

But like. I think I owe it my future self to hold on, and to get through the storms. Our past selves have come such a long way, and who knows where we'll go next, what our future selves and lives might be like. So like. I do think that new paths open up all the time, possibilities. Even if the ones now are all bad, who knows where we can still go. And the only way to find out is to try, and to do our best.

*they pull out their diary, and from the front a little calendar page* Look. I... It's one of these pages I'll keep forever and ever because I need the reminder, and give to others when they might need it. I don't know if it's right. I hope so. and I think the only way to find out is to try and hold on.

For me that's enough. That, little hopes, little good moments, even just the memory of warmth and hope and the knowledge that all that was once can come again - in different forms, maybe, but it can. *turning to lay it next to Will's sneaker*

*more silence* But. Well. That's really big thoughts, and hard to see when everything is so dark. Hm. okay just to throw some thoughts out. You don't have to tell me, you don't have to think about it, just... some ideas. Little windows into that maybe, whenever you're able to look.

what do the voices say? can they maybe be talked to, or be both a little right?

is there anything you wish wouldn't stop? or come back? any little thing. ignore realism and context all that. if you were playing make-believe, your own little world, what would it look like? if you want to we can take turns. I play that game regularly cause, well, bad memory, and i probably should start again.

and... does it have to be a *bad* hurt? like. yes. you're different. stuff happened, and it changed you, and that really really hurt. you might not be the same person as before. is that a bad thing? or, you said nasty. sure. right now it's raw and painful and doesnt fit yet. but... could all these little shards grow back together and become something scarred and mended, and different?

I hope they could. I'd really miss you - not you from before, you however you are right now and however you want to be. Idk doesn't make much sense but - people if they change are still that person, right? just... changed, by a situation or because they got to know themselves better or whatever. Like Butterflies. I'd like to see the next chapter, with you if you want or just knowing there was one for you.

Image Credit @thelatestkate and her website

Love love love characters that present themselves as emotionally open social butterflies but the more you see of them the more obvious it is that they’re the most closed off fuckers in the story. Sure, they want to help you with your personal problems and messy emotions, but if you turn that shit back on them, they’ll shut down or deflect every time. Why are you sticking your nose in their business anyway? It’s not like it matters. They’re not a person, they’re just a role being played. They’re the guy who fixes things and saves people. Please ignore the man behind the mask, he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

[ciderjacks]

ocd is weird bc I definitely still have it, I just got really good at identifying it and shutting it down. Like I was taking down a gross medical sticker on my wall that for some reason I stuck up there last year, and my brain was like “no don’t do it. You’ll die if you do that” so I put it back on and my brain was like “or…maybe life will get way better if you take if off. And if you leave it life will get worse. Want to make that choice” and I was like really stumped over it, then suddenly I was like ohhhhh ocd you tricky devil… and tore the sticker off. I go thru this exact experience about thrice a week.

[horrorwebs]

i hate my best friend earlier i was like "im scared that this guy likes me bc he said something that i would only say to people who i like, but i recognize thats its a normal ass thing to say anyway and i rationally know he does not like me, but still, my brain decided to play with that concept and made me have a terrible nightmare the other night about it and now im subconsciously scared that he will like me ( with the underlying concept of "i am scared of men")" and shell go ohohioo what if youre projecting and its actually YOU that likes him. ????? bitch did you not hear the part about having a dream where he abused me or ...?sometimes being asexual is a nightmare nobody gets it

[muletia]

[tfp] optimus prime x human!reader

summary: optimus handles the "would you still love me if i was a worm?" question a little too well

cw: fluff, optimus is fucking obsessed with you, bad writing, silliness

word count: 545

"Optimus?" you asked, breaking the silence.

Behemoth stopped working on his datapad, giving you his full attention. His private quarters were dimly lit, except for the soft blue glow of his patient optics, illuminating your figure, comfortably seated on his desk. Wrapped in a blanket and lying on the cozy couch that Optimus had personally brought in for you, you felt safe.

"Yes, my dearest?"

You couldn't quite explain what compelled you to speak the words that began to slip from your lips. Perhaps you just needed some validation in that moment, or maybe you were feeling a little down and wanted a mood boost. Whatever it was, it took over.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"What is a 'worm'?"

Embarrassment washed over you. You shouldn't have said anything (even if part of you was curious to see how he would respond).

It didn’t help that he was staring at you with those big, puppy-like optics, patiently waiting for an explanation. Oh God, he took it completely seriously. It shouldn’t have surprised you, knowing who you were dealing with, but this wasn’t the kind of question to take seriously. You would've been thrilled if he just said a simple "yes."

You cleared your throat.

"Ermm, well, you know..."

He absorbed every word like a sponge, analyzing, debating within himself to find the right response, unaware of your sudden awkwardness. He didn’t consider your question childish; he wanted to give you an honest answer that reflected his feelings.

After several seconds of silence (though to you it felt like hours), his mouth moved, and the reply that came out was one you never expected.

"I would build you a large garden with the richest soil in the universe, decorate it with your favorite flowers and plants, so you could enjoy the view before you when you decide to leave your shelter. I would visit you at every free moment, sharing updates about life, discussing human craft that recently captivated me. At night, I would carefully lift you onto my servo, so we could gaze at the radiance of the night sky together. I would treat you as my equal, with unchanged gentleness, affection, and devotion, admiring your beauty beyond your physical form, speaking to your soul. And just as I do now, I would be devoted to you, ready to answer your every cry, gesture, and request, overjoyed simply by being able to help. I would love you as a worm, a plant, a stick, or a stone, nurturing my love for you until my final days, faithful only to you."

The look of astonishment on your face made him a little concerned.

"[Your name], is everything alright? Did I say something inappropriate?"

"Wow..." not the most eloquent response, but your brain was too fried to come up with anything better. You blinked a few times to regain your composure, but it didn’t stop the blush from spreading across your face. "That was... beautiful. No, really, I didn’t expect such a powerful answer."

Optimus surprised you again by sending a gentle smile your way, softening the metal contours of his face. And then, whether consciously or not, he fired a return shot.

"And would you still love me if I was a worm?"

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi love!! I would love an Eddie request of him with inexperienced reader but it's not smut it's like the convo leading up to it like May be they start making out and it's getting steamy and she tells him she's a virgin and she's terrified bc what if she's bad at sex and then it's not good for him? What if he sees her naked and thinks she's not pretty?? And it's just Eddie comforting her and reassuring her

Oh, I would most definitely need Eddie to reassure me of these things, too. I hope you like what I've come up with 💕

Words: 1.3k

The old springs in Eddie’s mattress dig into your back, an occasional squeak emanating from them whenever your boyfriend shifts his weight on top of you. His tongue dances with yours, breath colliding and teeth grazing. Eddie encompasses all your senses, surrounding you wholly and leaving no room to think about anything else but him–if your brain can even manage to think at all with strong, calloused hands running over your body. 

His warm fingers trail up the outside of your leg, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The moment Eddie’s hand slips up your shorts on the front of your thigh though, your body goes from pure ecstasy to adrenaline-pumping nerves in an instant.

An involuntary jump of your body against his alerts Eddie that something’s wrong and he immediately pulls away to gaze down at you in concern.

“Are you okay?”

Though it’s clearly not the truth, you nod your head. Slowly, you scoot yourself out from beneath his body and sit up against the cheap mahogany headboard that’s caused a multitude of scratches against the dully painted trailer wall. 

“C-Can we talk for a second though?”

There’s worry in Eddie’s eyes. He’s terrified that he’s done something wrong or has hurt you in some way. Taking care to give you some space, your boyfriend situates himself to sit next to you on his bed, back also resting against the chipped and scuffed headboard.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie says. “What’s going on?”

Tentatively, Eddie offers you his hand, resting it between the two of you. He’s leaving the decision up to you if you want to touch him right now or not. There’s no hesitation though, you eagerly lace your fingers with his. 

You give him a nervous smile, a million thoughts running through your head at once. It’ll be a miracle if you can speak coherently with the rate at which your mind is moving. Deciding to just bite the bullet and get it all out there, you take a deep breath.

“Um, I’m—I’m a virgin, Eddie.”

Whatever reaction you were planning on Eddie to have, he doesn’t give it to you. He seems completely unfazed by your admission. All you get is a nod of his head and a gentle squeeze of your hand. 

“Okay,” he says casually, as if your entire body isn’t running on nervous energy at the moment. “We can go as slow as you want, yeah?”

You know your body should feel relief, but the worry in your head tells you that you’ve only gotten through part of what you need to tell him. Might as well push through to the end.

“I’m…scared,” you admit. Shame floods your body, chilling your veins.

“Of me?” Eddie’s eyes widen and the alarm in them is clear.

“No!” You quickly assure him. “No, no, never of you.”

He heaves a sigh of relief, and you cup his hand in both of yours. Out of all the things that make you anxious about having sex with Eddie, Eddie is not one of them. But that means you have to tell him that you’re the problem. If your anxiety has one mortal nemesis in the world it is vulnerability. 

“I’m scared that I’ll be bad at it,” you admit. “I don’t know what I’m doing. What if you don’t like it? What if I mess up?” What if you don’t like how I look beneath my clothes?

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. The crease in his forehead shows his displeasure with the pressure you’re putting on yourself. “First of all, I don’t think you can really mess up sex, sweetheart. As long as you’re here and your clothes are off, I’d say we’re good to go.” He chuckles, but when you don’t join in, he sighs. “Are you honestly worried that I won’t like it?”

Unable to look him in the eye, you nod. His forehead furrows further as Eddie frowns. Usually, you’d rub your thumb over those wrinkles to smooth them out and calm him down. But usually, you’re not the cause of them. 

Gentle fingers grip your chin and tilt your face so you can look at him.

“Princess, it’s you. I love doing everything with you, you really think I won’t like having sex with you?”

When he puts it like that, you feel silly. Heat blooms in your face as embarrassment is scooped on top of the nerves. There are legitimate concerns, though. You’re sure of it. There has to be.

“W-What if you don’t like what my body looks like?” You ask it so quietly in the hope that he misses it.

It’s obvious that he doesn’t by the way his eyes nearly pop out of his head. He reminds you of one of those stress dolls that you squeeze and the small plastic eyes bulge out.

“Not like your body?” Eddie sounds almost incredulous. He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing into yours as he thinks of a reply. It feels like the understatement of the century to say he was unprepared for you to be worried about this; about something that he whole-heartedly knew to be untrue. A smile quirks Eddie’s mouth as his mind goes back to a day before you’d started dating. He licks over his lips before continuing. “Sweetheart, remember the pool party Jeff threw for his birthday last summer? You wore that low-cut, blue one-piece that showed off most of your back?”

Do you remember? You had agonized over what you should wear to that party and what Eddie would think when he saw you. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, voice quivering. 

“Babe,” he says with a shake of his head. “I still get off thinking about that. About how you looked. There was a reason I had to stay in the pool past the point of me freezing half to death in the water.”

Shock colors your face, and despite the gravity of the conversation, it makes Eddie smile wider.

“You…really?”

“Yes,” Eddie says with a breathless chuckle. “God, you’re so fucking hot. You’re gorgeous. It bothers me that you don’t see that.”

If there’s one thing you can say about your boyfriend, it’s that he’s very candid about his view on things–just ask anyone who’s had the pleasure of hearing him make a grand speech from atop a lunch table. Which is most of the high school-aged population in Hawkins.

Half of your brain is trying to convince you that now is the time he chooses to lie, that he’s just saying this to make you feel better or to shut you up. Meanwhile, the other half is telling the anxiety to put a sock in it and listen to Eddie.

“What’re you thinking?” Eddie asks quietly. A reminder of how well he knows you.

“Too much,” you say with a soft laugh. 

Eddie lets out a long breath and gently pulls you into his lap. He absentmindedly rests his hands on your thighs and his thumbs rub calming circles on your skin.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” he asks. Needing to show you physically how much he wants to help you, he snakes his arms around your body to hold you snugly against him. Your heart all but melts as he looks up at you with those large, puppy dog eyes.

With a small smile, you lean down and rest your forehead against your boyfriend’s. Sometimes he’s too cute for his own good. 

“You already have,” you say softly.

“What? How?” Eddie’s frowning again, but this time it's in confusion.

“Just by being you,” you tell him with a shrug.

“Well, I am pretty great,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. Your heart feels lighter once the stress lines fade from his beautiful face. 

You chuckle at his ego and sit back up straight.

“There is one more thing you could do for me, though.”

“What’s that, beautiful?”

There’s a hungry gleam in your eyes as you let your gaze trail up and down his lithe body. 

“Take off your shirt.”

[pure-smut]

toxic.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, established relationship, drugging (sleeping pills), somnophilia, noncon (reader is asleep), unprotected s*x, creampie

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

a/n: toxic walking red flag stalker boyfriend Sukuna is back!! part 3 was meant to be the last part but I had more ideas soooo enjoy two more parts!!

Ryomen Sukuna has you.

You’re at your favourite coffee shop with Sukuna, your laptop and a strew of notes on the table as you cram for your final exam of the semester. Sukuna sits in the booth next to you, one arm casually slung over the back of the seating behind you as he scrolls his phone. His presence took a while to get used to, so big it’s almost suffocating, now it’s a reassuring block between you and the rest of the world. Even during the rare times he’s not with you, everyone knows – you’re Sukuna’s girlfriend. That’s enough to scare anyone off. Even your previous failed situationship stopped sending you “you up?” messages once he found out, instead sending you a quick “sorry” before blocking you.

You go to take a sip of coffee but realise it’s empty. Sukuna glances up as you make to stand up.

“Sit down. I got it.”

As you sink back to your seat, he presses a kiss to your temple and stands, sauntering over to the counter. You smile after him. You love that he does things for you without you needing to ask.

Sukuna has an uncanny ability to anticipate what you want or need, sometimes having it ready for you without you even saying anything. You remember the time you came home from a long, stressful day and he had your favourite takeout food waiting for you. When you asked him how he knew your favourite, or how he even knew you were having a bad day, he only shrugged and said, “Lucky guess.”

You suspect it’s something more than that but you’re just happy to be doted on. No one’s ever been this sweet to you, this infatuated, so you accept him without question.

When Sukuna returns with your coffee, you brush a light kiss across his lips and thank him.

Sukuna’s cock stirs as soon as your mouth touches his. He watches you as you study, pretending to look at his phone, admiring your profile. You really are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You don’t even need to do anything to get him going – a light touch or a chaste kiss is enough for his blood to rush straight down. Hell, you were sitting in your pyjamas eating peanut butter out of the jar the other day and even that made his cock hard.

He smothers a smile. Sukuna couldn’t be happier. He’s got you all to himself and even though he trusts you of course, sometimes he indulges in a little light stalking just to be sure. He knows you ignore other men when they try to talk to you and you’re always exactly where you say you are. Why wouldn’t you be? You’re perfect.

“Oh, I forgot to say,” you interrupt his train of thoughts and Sukuna looks up at you, smile on his face. “I’ve decided to come off the pill.”

Sukuna’s smile freezes.

“What’s that?” He makes sure his voice comes out casual if not a little strained.

“I’m coming off the pill. Actually, I’ve already come off it – it was messing with my head.” You turn away from your notes to look at him, smiling. “We’ll need to use condoms from now on, okay?”

Your sweet face is oblivious to the turmoil currently inside Sukuna. A condom? You want a physical barrier between you both? You want to take this beautiful, perfect thing between you and put a condom in the middle of it?

Sukuna has to fight not to crush his phone in his hand.

“Whatever, babe,” he manages to say.

You give him a relieved smile and squeeze his thigh before turning back to your notes. Behind you, Sukuna’s smile drops.

No. No, this is not happening. His brain churns as he processes this, a stab of anger in his chest. Do you not love him anymore? Is this the first step in breaking up? He shakes his head. A condom? He won’t get to feel the euphoria of your bodies joined together, not an inch between you. No more filling your sweet little cunt with his cum, watching it drip out of your used hole. Sukuna’s mouth goes dry at the thought.

Yeah, no. He’s going to have to do something about this.

You take a large gulp of your fresh coffee, giving your cheeks a light slap.

“This last exam is really doing a number on me,” you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “I need like five coffees a day just to stay awake.”

A lightbulb dings over Sukuna’s head. Oh, sweet, sweet you. You’ve given him the most perfect idea without even realising. A true smile crawls across Sukuna’s face as he reaches over to brush your hair from your neck.

“Don’t work too hard,” he coos. “You know I don’t like sharing your attention.”

You grin, assuming he’s joking. He’s not.

“I won’t be much longer, I promise,” you say. “And then we’ll go home, okay?”

Sukuna kisses your shoulder. His mood has lifted now an idea has formed in his head.

“Whatever you want,” he says, smiling. *

Sukuna orders the sleeping pills online from a less-than-reputable website, paying extra for next day delivery. It means he has to grit his teeth through one night of fucking you with a condom.

He tries his best not to let his displeasure show but you struggled to find a condom that would fit him and when you did, Sukuna only sank half his cock inside you. He came inside the plastic sack, throwing it away with disgust. The whole thing is less than satisfying.

But the promise of the next day keeps him going.

The pills arrive in a plain parcel while you’re out at class. Sukuna and you don’t live together yet but his place is bigger and more comfortable than your cramped shared space, so you spend a lot of time at his. He makes sure you’re out before the pills get delivered.

Sukuna knows he has to be patient. It’s not your fault you had to come off the pill – your health is important, after all. You’re precious to him and he doesn’t want you hurt. So he doesn’t blame you for that. But he’ll be damned if he has to suffer through condoms for the rest of his life with you.

He really has no choice.

Sukuna crushes up the sleeping pills, careful with the dosage, and when you arrive back home after class, he offers you a relaxing glass of spiked wine and your favourite dinner.

“You’re so sweet to me, ‘Kuna.” You kiss him, accepting the wine and food without argument.

You spend a nice evening together, watching TV as Sukuna rubs your feet. He keeps a careful eye on you and, sure enough, it’s not long before you start to yawn. A little while later, you’re nearly falling asleep on the sofa.

“You tired, babe?” Sukuna asks innocently.

You give a sleepy nod, apologising and saying you’re going to have an early night. Sukuna watches you pad into the bedroom, the lights switching off. Barely five minutes later, he can hear your soft snores.

He grins.

You’re always so predictable, so obedient, and it makes him love you all the more. Sukuna can’t believe how lucky he is to have you – his perfect girl.

Sukuna follows you to the bedroom, his cock already stirring. He’s bought the morning after pill to crush into your coffee for tomorrow. Tonight, he gets to feel you properly again.

He strips off before tugging the blanket off you. You’re out cold, spread-eagle and naked on the bed. Sukuna looks down at you fondly. It reminds him of when he snuck into your bedroom to taste you. The memory makes him smirk, knowing you’re still unaware that even happened.

Sukuna whispers your name a few times, shaking your shoulder. Your chest rises and falls gently but you don’t even make a noise. Truly dead to the world.

Satisfied, Sukuna situates himself between your legs, the mattress sinking under his weight. He takes a moment, drinking you in, and strokes himself a couple times to the sight of you. He loves every inch of your body, every divot and curve, every mark and mole. He wants to wrap his large arms around you and hold you to him and never, ever let you go.

Sukuna leans forward and gropes your tits first, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. It stiffens against his tongue as he plays with your other nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. He loves your tits, would touch them all day if you let him. He pulls back to see the marks he left on you a few days ago, your soft flesh peppered with bruises.

Sukuna trails his hand down your body, the silkiness of your skin in contrast to his calloused palms, before slipping his hand between your legs. He dips a finger between your folds and finds you slick with arousal. Your body is responding to him even while you’re asleep. The thought makes his heart swell almost as much as his cock.

He sinks a finger deeper inside you, feeling your hole stretch around him. You barely move but your brows scrunch slightly as he finds your sensitive spot and strokes it softly.

“That’s it, baby,” Sukuna murmurs, watching the slight change in your face. He can feel you getting wetter, getting ready for him. “That’s my girl.”

Sukuna withdraws before pushing two of his thick fingers inside you. His thumb rubs your clit as he fingers you, encouraging your orgasm. He knows you need to cum at least once to be able to fit all of him in and he’s more than happy to get you there. You don’t make a sound but your breathing quickens. Sukuna’s gaze moves between your breasts, jiggling hypnotically with every sharp inhale you take and your cunt, where he can see your hole stretched around his fingers.

Sukuna curves his fingers to reach your little bundle of nerves and it’s enough to undo you, even unconscious. You groan softly as Sukuna draws an orgasm from you. He feels your walls quivering around his fingers and the anticipation of feeling you around his cock again is almost too much.

When Sukuna’s satisfied you’re done, he withdraws his fingers and aligns his cock with your entrance. He nudges the tip past your lips, now puffy with arousal, until he can feel the resistance of your hole. You’re spread so beautifully in front of him, so pliant in your sleep, more than anything he wants to slam himself fully inside you.

But he won’t. Sukuna loves you, he doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants you to feel as good as him. No, he needs you to. Needs you to need him, even when you’re not awake. He needs it so badly, he’ll do whatever he has to.

Sukuna leans forward over you, supporting himself on his arms, and slowly pushes inside you.

He’ll never get bored of the initial resistance of your sweet little pussy. The way your hole immediately grips him, pulling him deeper inside. Sukuna pushes in deeper, just a few inches, and lets out a sigh that’s half pleasure, half relief.

You feel so hot around him, so soft. There’s nothing that compares to this, to the feel of your bodies connecting as his cock reaches inside the most intimate part of you. Sukuna shallowly pumps in and out of you, watching your face. You look angelic, your hair splayed out around you like a halo, your face so peaceful even as Sukuna sinks his cock inside you.

Your needy hole pulls him in, coating his girth in your slick. Sukuna works himself deeper, the muscles in his arms taut as he holds himself back until he knows you’re ready. He’s almost there, just a few inches left, but he needs to give you some time to adjust.

To make sure he can go deeper, Sukuna readjusts his position slightly, pulling your thighs up until they’re resting on top of his. It angles your hips up slightly, giving him better access, making sure he’ll be able to bottom out.

Sukuna lowers himself onto his forearms, automatically wanting to kiss you before realising you can’t kiss back. The thought is frustrating. Instead, he busies his mouth with your neck and tits, sucking fresh marks into the skin. It’s risky but he hopes you won’t notice the new marks amongst the old ones and he can't resist nibbling at your plush flesh.

As Sukuna sucks and nibbles your tits, he starts to rock his hips again. Your pussy welcomes him, letting him stroke deeper until he bottoms out. He feels your lips touch the base of his cock and can’t stop himself from groaning, deep and long.

“So perfect,” he murmurs. “My perfect girl.”

Sukuna keeps rolling his hips. The friction of your slick walls against his cock is intoxicating.

“You get so wet for me, baby,” he whispers. “You love it raw, don’t you? You love my raw cock stuffed in your little hole.”

Condoms. What a ridiculous idea. There's nothing better than this, better than your skin on his, feeling every inch of you until there's no secrets you can hold that he doesn't already know.

Sukuna picks up his pace, pushing himself back up onto his arms so he can watch you bounce under the force of his thrusts. The sound of your sopping cunt fills the room, like music to Sukuna’s ears. He knows he’ll never fuck you with a condom again, never put a barrier between you. He’ll never give up this feeling, the way your needy pussy massages his cock, desperate for his cum.

Your walls start to clench around him and Sukuna realises he’s about to make you cum again. The thought spurs him on and he fucks you harder, slamming himself into you hard enough that he knows you'd be crying his name if you were awake.

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock,” he grunts, nearing his own orgasm. “Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Sukuna gives one last thrust before spilling his seed inside you, filling you to the brim. He stays where he is for a few moments longer, catching his breath, before pulling out. He sits back, reaching between your legs to spread your aching lips, watching his cum spill out of your hole.

Sukuna scoops up some with a finger before leaning forward to smear it across your lips, smirking. How he’d love to watch you suck it from his fingers but he’ll leave that for another time.

Sukuna checks your breathing, makes sure you’re still okay, before cleaning you up. He softly presses a warm, damp cloth to your well-used pussy, cleaning both your juices. You did so well for him tonight and he wants to treat you gently.

When he’s finished, Sukuna climbs into bed next to you, draping you across his chest. His body is relaxed and he closes his eyes with a satisfied smile. He reminds himself to slip you the morning after pill tomorrow.

And then a little voice at the back of his head asks him – what if he didn’t?

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Taglist: @bravinskly

[star-suh]

When the Nerd’s a Fuckboy

Jake Sim x Male Reader

an: just realized part of this fic is similar to the minho bit in the week of wonders one so forgive me for recycling material 😭😭

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yn has been failing his math subject on college, “why the fuck did i choose this degree when i hate maths so much” he cried in the shoulders of his friend sunghoon, “because you are a dumbass” he replied unfazed. “ugh.. whatever” yn blurted out while holding his chest, showing to his friend how much his words hurted him. “instead of being here crying, why won’t you ask one of your classmates, the most intelligent perhaps, to help you with the subject?”.

“hmm the smarter one… who’s the smarty pants in my class?” yn was lost into thinking about it that sunghonn thought he was simply dissociating, “oh fuck no, IT’S JAKEE!!” he yelled making everybody who’s passing by to turn their heads towards the pair of friends, sunghoon covering his eyes with his hand, “the fuck” he murmured embarrased. “sorry by the way but i can’t ask him to help me”, yn exclaimed, “why?” the other asks. “he’s just too scary to approach, he’s a smart guy but he gives off bad boy vibes like a fuckboy”.

“well that sounds off, how can a nerd be a fuckboy. aren’t you just overreacting yn?” sunghoon says with curiosity in his voice, “accompany me to the classroom, you'll see him there”.

“fuck he does give those vibes ynnie, he for sure likes it rough”, “oh my god sunghoon shut up” yn's face lit up in a shade of red, “go to your classroom pervert”. sunghoon waves a goodbye while laughing his ass off. “is he like that?” yn murmurs in a low voice when entering the classroom. 

minutes passed and yn was indecisive if talking to jake or not, the idea sunghoon implanted on his brain not leaving him alone, it's like a ghost coming time to time to haunt him. jake is such a hot guy that everyone who sees him from afar would think he's the bully of the class but they get surprised when they see how he's so nerdy. “h-hi” yn greeted jake, “hello” he greets back while still eyeing the notes written on his notebook, “i was wondering if you umm… could help me with math” yn’s whole body still, nervousness taking over his body. “why should i do that?” jake asks making yn gasp in surprise, if he was in an animated comedy he surely would be animated like a piece of glass shattering. he tries to laughs the awkwardness off, “you're the top student and i really.. really need to pass it with good grades”, “not convincing enough” he replied immediately. ‘fuck why does he has to be like that’ he thought and seeing there's no other way to convince him he took a desperate measure. he pulled his jeans right above his knees so he can bend them properly and kneel in front of jake, clasping his hands together he then proceed to say, “please help me, i beg. i’ll give you anything in return”.

something was awoken in jake, seeing yn kneeling in front of him, with those pouty lips and cock sucking eyes. he needs to have more of that, he needs to take yn. no, he has to ruin yn. jake was one of those smarty pants boys with a high libido so his hornyness was at max level every day, this can be proven when seeing his phone full of dating apps and how almost everyone in the classroom was head over heels for him knowing how good he was in bed, hell, even some teachers and staff members of the college were like that from him, truly a nerdy manwhore. so naturally he has to ruin yn expeditiously.

“anything?” jake asks, his tone laced with lust and depravity but yn wasn't as dumb as he looked like, he knew exactly what jake was asking for but nonetheless he decided ro play that game too.

“yes anything please” he keep on with that act because at the end of the day he's gonna learn something and will enjoy it too so it was a win-win to him but oh boy he doesn't know what's coming to him.

—

“what's the answer?” jake's bangs sticked to his forehead due to the sweat, the frame of his glasses falling off of his nose bridge but he quickly fixes it, he licks his lips “answer me slut” the sound of the spank echoed in the room, his hand imprinted on yn's butt cheek, who was sitting on the other's dick with his back facing jake.

“i-i don't rememberrr” yn gasped, letting his sweaty and marked body fall to the floor but with jake's meat still inside him, the nerd has been obliterating his hole the past hour. everytime he messes up one of the 10 questions on the sheet, jake punishes him and made him start again but with a new sheet of questions. “i won't be able to focus if you keep hitting my prostate” yn whimpers. “or you're just messing up because you love my dick stretching this pussy. even a high schooler could resolve this sheet in 15 minutes” jake pulls out his dick and quickly replaces them with his digits. four of them entering at once on the gaping pink hole, smeared in saliva and lube. “or maybe you're just dumb as a fucking rock” the top adds.

yn's head rests on the floor, no strenght left in his body, a pool of drool forming on the floor, “at least give me a kiss” he pouted, “i don't kiss my hook ups” the nerd replied.

“commme onnn~” jake slaps yn's cheek, “four fingers were enough for you to get fucked dumb?”, “n-n..noo~... i just need to-” he was cut off when jake put his fingers on his mouth, “ah ah ah ah ah.. you can't get distracted dumbslut but i'll let it pass this time. meanwhile i think on something to help you keep tasting your boypussy juices”.

jake's dick slid up and down on top of the other's pulsating hole, the burning friction making it shiver in pleasure as if it's asking for more, “hungry pussy” he blurted out, “haven't had one like that for so long”.

“jake pleashee~ help me with thish and then you c-can fu-fuck me all you wanttt~” yn tried to convince jake so he can rest a little but to no avail, “or i'll fuck you right now and then we study” he slaps his tip on top of the hole, then introduces only that part and starts whiping his dick with his hand, the vibration provoking squelching sounds that were like music foe jake's ears, “god how much i love a wet pussy”. “ish not a pusshyy~” yn talks back and it's received with another harsh spank, his ass bright red already, “it's a pussy, my pussy now” jake slams himself onto yn drawing a loud cry from the bottom, “FUCKK!! sho big~”, yn's eyes rolles back and his tongue was out, “look at you, all dumb over my cock”.

jake pulls yn towards him, locking him with his arm around his neck, bulging veins decorating that pretty skin. the headlock wasn't that hard but it has the right amount of pressure to choke yn. the dizziness making him squirm and by consequence it made his hole grip hard jake's dick. “holy fuck, i'm gonna nut in this boypussy” jake grunted, pistoning his hips faster and harder completely ruining that gaping hole.

“fill me up. fill me up” yn begged, jake’s dick throbbing inside him sending waves of pleasure throughout his body, “fill thish pusshy up. to the brimmm~”. the slurred words plus the beggin made jake's dick twitch, his thrusts becoming sloppier, an in an impulsive act he brings yn’s face towards him to kiss him –breaking his 'rule’–, his tongue eager to explore inside yn's oral cavity. in one of those sloppy thrusts he hit yn's sweet spot so hard that it made him orgasm right there –cumming hands free– the white liquid spilling over his body and then running down his shaft to drip on top of jake's balls.  jake spurted his spooge inside, riding his high while still buried on yn with a few more thrusts. he then let go of the headlock letting the other catch some breath. jake let's himself fall to the floor and yn plopped on top of him, tired he closed his eyes, while being caressed by jake's soothing heartbeat sound.

“what the-” yn woke up, scared. was that all a dream? he was asking himself mentally, “no, it wasn't a dream, get ready ‘cause we need to finish this sheet” jake said with a monotonous, cold voice, completely different at the beast who rearranged his guts moments ago, ‘what the fuck can he read minds now?’ yn thought, furrowing his eyebrows and his eyes narrowing at the nerdy boy. “i can't read minds, you're just predictable”.

“fuck you” yn started to mumble curses towards the other while going to the bathroom limping. jake just stares at him, his usually calm and cold expression changes to a smirk inmediately afterwards, he then fixes his glasses and direct his stare towards the piece of paper in front of him, licking his lips in the process.

[revelboo]

Possibly more of My Favorite Accident? Please, and thank you!

Sure

My Favorite Accident Pt 5

TFP Knockout x Reader

• “Nothing should surprise me anymore, but here we are,” he mutters, pulling into the lot you’d indicated. Shifting on his shocks as a man bends over the railing on the porch of the building and retches noisily in a bush. Nearly falling into the same bush. And he can’t decide if he’s more horrified or furious. The lock clicking firmly down when you try to open the door. “This is the part where you admit to messing with me.” Because this has to be a terrible joke in poor taste. Every second he sits here, the closer to furious he’s getting.

• “Sorry to disappoint, but I work here.” Aware that you’re not getting out until he lets you, there’s nothing to do but wait. Situated on the outskirts of town, the bar had been a small motel at one point and had been several other failed businesses before settling firmly on its current iteration. Because no matter how bad the economy is, alcohol always sells. Actually growling at you, he unlocks the door and you get out. Freezing when you spot that stupid holomatter avatar glitching into existence and pretending to get out of the passenger side. Apparently deciding to take his uncanny-valley freak show of a fake human for a test drive. “Where are you going?”

• “Might as well get the full experience,” he sneers as you shudder at him. “The avatar is fine.” Even if its expression is stuck in a perpetual blank stare. It looks human and he’d already found out racing that humans have an amazing capacity for ignoring anything that doesn’t perfectly line up with their conception of reality. If his avatar glitches out of existence for half a second, it’s fine. Humans will just refuse to acknowledge anything weird happened, preferring to second guess themselves instead. Their wet, little brains seeing the impossible and just going ‘nope, not today.’

• “It looks like a body snatcher in a B movie.” Striding toward the bar, you’re aware of him following you. And that unlike your boots, his feet make no sound whatsoever. The drunk leaning on the rail slides down to an awkward sit, staring blearily at you both as you ignore him. Inside, the stink of cheap cigars and the acidic reek of vomit compete to be the most offensive. Mostly empty aside from a couple of old men sitting at the bar nursing beers as you go around the bar. And still managing to convey his utter disgust for your life even without being able to change that creepy, dead expression, Knockout slides onto a barstool. You can feel his glare behind those stupid fake sunglasses.

• Trying to decide if the old men are annoying flirt drunk or will be fighting in an hour drunk, you grab an apron to relieve the older woman with her frizzed out perm. Watching her eye Knockout before heading to a corner to smoke. “You take me to the nicest places,” he mutters as you start wiping down the counter, aware that one of the drunks is leaning forward to watch you. Trying to gauge if he’s drunk enough to try and grab whatever’s in reach, while you ignore Knockout. It’s not like you asked him to camp in your apartment parking lot like a creeper. You had asked him to drive you here, though. Leaning drunk makes a clumsy fumble for your wrist and then goes tumbling from his barstool when it’s pulled back. Knockout’s avatar blurring slightly as he moves too quickly to track. “This is ridiculous.”

• Watching you fight a smile as the human stumbles to his feet and looks around belligerently, Knockout stares him down until he gets back on his stool. Keeping his wrinkled hands to himself this time at least. And keeping an optic on you, because he can understand why you’re all attitude now. Why you carry that pitiful little knife. Because you’re scared most of the time, but you’re used to it and know that if you let it show, you don’t stand a chance. And something about that, about how you live bothers him. Rubbing him the wrong way even though he shouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t matter. Your attitude you hide behind, that impulsive mouth that only gets you in trouble, that stubborn determination he almost admires. None of it should mean a thing to him.

Previous

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[rottingworship]

The smut prompts 72 and 80 ☝️😈

Withhhhh

Hoodie😳

MWAAH THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST!! This is actually longer than most prompts i've ever written ever omg... I got carried away... may write a part 2 involving tim :3

As always, prompts are from here! Divider is from sister-lucifer

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!, fingering, innocent!reader, hint at corruption kink sorta (?), praise, finger sucking, F!Reader

Prompts: "There is no way anyone is that innocent." "What? Does that feel good?"

“There is no way anyone is that innocent.” Brian switches through the channels on the TV.

Tim shrugs, really not caring. “Ya never know.”

“She’s a killer.” Brian huffs. “We are all killers.”

“Not all killers fuck.” Tim rolls his eyes. “If it’s that big of a deal, why don’t you ask her?” Tim has had enough. He gets up and walks to his room. Brian is thinking about it. About how sweetly you interact with them. How oblivious you are to some of their jokes. The look on your face when some of them click.

The door opening brings him out of his thoughts. You walk into your home with a large smile on your face and a small bag of groceries in your hand. You tell Brian ‘hi’ and walk to the kitchen. His eyes don’t leave you.

You turn back around and your eyes meet his. “You alright, love?”

Brain tenses. Love… It’s what you have always called him and Tim both. There never seems to be any ‘love’ behind the word. But Brian wishes for there to be. He’s sure you're just being nice and friendly. You always have been. Somehow, you stay so loving…

“Yeah.” He stands up from the couch and begins to walk towards you. You don’t think anything of it. You put some of the groceries up and begin to walk past him. Brian stops you in your tracks, his hand grabbing your bicep. The way look up at him leaves him reeling. Brian holds you there. Without saying a word.

“You good?” Your brows furrow, but you don’t pull away. Your eyes show no sign of fear of him hurting you, but they do show extreme confusion.

“Is this an act?”

His question causes you to pout. “What? Is what an act?” You really don’t get it.

“You’re so-” Brian sighs. “Nevermind. I gotta go.” He is overwhelmed. It doesn’t take a lot for you to realize that. Brian is quick to leave your home. You try to get that interaction out of your head and finish putting up groceries. As you walk to the bathroom to finish putting things away, you remember Tim’s home. You walk to his room and knock.

“Hey, it’s me.” As soon as he gives you the okay, you open the door. “Is Brian okay?” It’s the first thing you ask. Tim looks at you and groans.

“What’d he do?”

“He asked if I was acting,” It comes out more like a question than anything, “and then, he just- He left.”

Tim snorts, trying to not smile. “He’s fine. Probably relieving some stress right now.”

“What’s he stressed about?” You cock your head at him.

“You.” It’s all he gives you. You are sent into a spiral. Your face contorts with confusion and you gasp. You stumble on your words, stuttering something out, before Tim saves you. “It’s not bad, he thinks about you too much though.”

“Too much!?” You are dumbfounded. “How much is the normal amount?”

“Probably the amount that I think about you.”

You cannot catch a break. You let out a groan and close Tim’s door, leaving him alone. You have no more questions for him. You want to call Brian and ask if he’s alright, but you aren’t sure it’s Brian that will answer. You sigh and go to your room. You already took care of your business (or the operator’s), bought groceries, and put them up. It is time for you to relax. And now you can’t.

You walk to your bathroom and decide to shower. You have had a long day, and maybe the hot water will help relax you. As you shower, all you can think about is Brian; his questions and whatever the fuck Tim meant about him. You cannot lie, Brian is always plaguing your mind. Even more so now. Does he like me? You think as you wash your body. Does he fucking hate my guts? You begin to stress. If he hates me, that would suck, we kinda have to work together for the foreseeable future. You want to explode. You finish up your shower quicker than normal and decide you cannot be in your room. You get dressed and head to the living room. You lay down on your couch and sigh. You flip through the channels and land on some corny horror movie. You keep it there.

Before you know it, you are dozing off. You wake up to the door of your house opening. You sit up and rub your eyes. “Who- Brian?” You make out his frame, and then his hood and mask. “Oh, it’s just you, Hoodie.” You lie back down on the couch and close your eyes. You have not interacted with Hoodie as much as you have Brian, but you still trust him.

“Wake up.”

The way he says it has you sitting up immediately. You look at him with wide eyes and your mouth is slightly agape. “What the fuck?” Your legs swing over the side of the couch and Hoodie sits down beside you. “Is this about earlier? Because I’m still confused.”

“You really are oblivious… You know that?” You cannot figure out his emotions. You can’t tell if he’s smiling or annoyed, and it’s bothering you. “You’ve got Brian wrapped around your finger, and you are completely oblivious.” Hoodie doesn’t move. You scoot down the couch, confused by the suddenness of everything. “I see what he sees in you, though.”

“What?” You sound groggy still. “What does he see?”

Hoodie scoots closer. You freeze, swallowing hard. “You’re an angel.” Hoodie says it as if you should be aware of that already.

“I assure you,” You put a hand up, “I am no angel.” Something clicks. Your face contorts again, changing from confusion to an awareness. Awareness of everything Hoodie is saying. “Is this about not understanding some of the jokes I hear? Because, I’ve never been around guys a lot-” You look away from him, embarrassed. “I was pretty sheltered until I turned eighteen. And, y’know, moved away. I’ve never really had many friends-”

“It’s not an act…” Hoodie sounds so primal suddenly. It causes chills to run down your spine. The hair on your neck is standing on end. You swallow hard and let out an awkward laugh. You can’t look at him. “It’s okay,” He coos.

“I think about you- Uh Brian, a lot…” You twiddle your fingers, biting the inside of your lip, “I don’t know- I can’t begin to tell you-” You can’t see his face, but he looks absolutely animalistic. You blink a couple times, collecting your thoughts. “Can you kiss me?” Your voice is hushed, barely above a whisper.

Hoodie does not hesitate. He lifts up his mask, just enough to reveal his mouth and moves towards you. His hands cup your face and he smiles as soon as his lips meet yours. You relax into his touch. Your mind is going a mile a minute. When his tongue gently runs across your bottom lip, you eagerly open your mouth for him.

Without missing a beat, as Hoodie shoves his tongue in your mouth, he effortlessly moves you onto his lap. You let out a gasp and your arms wrap around his neck. You are positively melting into his touch.

Hoodie pulls away and begins to trail kisses down your throat. Your brain is fuzzy and you can’t think straight. You let a quiet moan and Hoodie smirks against your skin. “Sh,” He hushes you, “don’t need Tim hearing us.”

You nod and try to keep quiet. Before you know it, your position is being switched. You are lying on your back on the couch and Hoodie is above you, he’s watching you. You can’t see his eyes, but you can see his smirk. You let out a whine and your thighs rub together. “Please,” You whine, “I need-” You cannot verbalize what you need.

“Use your words,” He leans down and begins to kiss your neck again, licking and nipping the sensitive skin.

“I need you to touch me!” You are frustrated. “Make me feel good, please!” You are begging at this point.

Brian laughs. His smile widens and laughs. Your face is burning up and you want to hide again. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs into your skin. “I can do that.”

Hoodie is resting on his arm, keeping his weight from being completely on you. His opposite hand begins to trail towards your shirt and straight towards the elastic of your pajama pants. His hand dips down and he begins to rub you through your panties. Your hips eagerly roll into his touch and Hoodie gently bites down on your neck.

“So impatient,” He hums into your ear.

“Please!” You are still trying to keep quiet. “Need you-”

Hoodie doesn’t falter. His fingers pull down your pajama pants and your underwear. He palms you, and you roll into him again. A little more violently this time. Hoodie slides one finger into you at first. His lips are still attached to your throat. Your breathing is becoming heavy and loud. Hoodie’s finger moves slowly, painfully slow at first. You buck into him and let out a soft whimper.

“Hm,” Hoodie hums into your skin. “I’m sure your own fingers aren’t this good, huh?” He is cocky. You shake your head, quickly. You cannot form words. You are left a mess under him. “What? Does that feel good?” He knows the answer to that. You nod. “I’m gonna add another, okay?” He sits up to watch your reaction.

Another finger pushes into you and a white, hot fire is lit in your core. Your eyes screw shut as his fingers slowly pump in and out of you, his thumbs grazing over your clit. You feel like you're in a tunnel. You can hear him commenting about how good you are, but you cannot respond. Your mouth falls agape and you are trying to form a sentence to beg for more.

“Faster,” You mumble, “please, faster!”

“Anything for you,” He coos at you.

He picks up the pace and you are writhing in pleasure underneath him. Every single time his fingers pull from you, your hips follow them. You need him.

“Close-” The word stumbles from your tongue, “so close.” Your toes curl. You are going to burst. Your body tenses and your eyes shut tight. Your nails dig into Hoodie’s back, clawing at the fabric. His pace, steady but quick, does not slow. He keeps going. No signs of stopping anytime soon.

You pull Hoodie to you, letting out a loud whimper. His name falling from your lips like a mantra. You are seeing stars as his thumb rubs your clit a little faster. A louder cry is pulled from you this time. Everything comes undone so fast. Hoodie is in your ear, mumbling to you how good you’ve been, how you deserve this, and kissing the shell of your ear.

Hoodie lowers himself on top of you as you come down from your high. His fingers pull from you and shoves them into his own mouth. He sucks on them. You feel yourself getting even more wet.

The door down the hall opens. “What the fuck?”

You hide yourself immediately. Hoodie laughs. “I told you to be quieter.”

[abswhore]

just a friend final

Pairing: college!fwb!abby Anderson x reader tags:@macaroni676 @vqxen @grey-jedi12 @i02elss

A/N: this is the final part :( I’ve gain sm support I’m grateful also this isn’t proofread I’ll be going back on all the parts editing ! <3

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A month went by, and those three words continued to echo in Abby's brain . She felt the urge to contact you and make things right, to find out if you truly meant what you said. Yet, she struggled with the idea of confronting you after walking away like that. So, she decided that silence was the safest option, or at least the best choice for her.

She carried on with her life as if nothing had changed, focusing on soccer, her studies, and even finding time for jade, which brung comments from the group. Nora and Dina held her responsible for your absence from the friend group.

"You didn’t see my call? I tried calling you tree times. " Abby asked Nora as she approached the group's table in the dining hall,

"I did, but I was with y/n. You know she doesn't really like you much since you broke her heart." Nora clarified going back to her meal, causing Abby to click her tongue in annoyance.

“That’s not fair Nora.” Manny, speaking with his strong accent "You can't keep bringing this up; it's none of our business what happened with them."

The group genuinely made an effort to avoid interfering in you and Abby’s relationship , and Abby knew this. She felt as though she had caused a divide within the group. Abby understood just how much Dina and Nora valued you.

“She’s our friend.” Dina added in “ it’s kind of hard to mind our business.” 

“Whatever.” Manny mumbled sliding his headphones back over his ears .

“Okay, abs it’s been a month just tell us what happened .” Jesse suggested and Abby sent him a look throwing his hands up “or not.” 

“You or y/n won’t tell us, how bad can it be.” Ellie chimed in, Abby shook her head grabbing her backpack from beside her 

“I promised jade id meet her after , her class I gotta go.”  ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Abby laid in bed scrolling through your Instagram story, replaying the story where your face appeared the most in them. She felt a deep longing for you, and it took all her strength to resist the urge to reach out.

She slid up on one of the stories, typing "beautiful" with heart eyes. Biting her lip, she moved her thumb to the arrow to send the message. When the person resting on her chest shifted, causing her to glanced down.

She glanced at Jade with a sigh, erased the message she had written and tossed her phone aside, pulling the girl in closer. This is what she wanted to settle for. ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

The day had went on and Abby spent the whole day on campus, something she rarely did, hoping to bump into you, but so far, she hadn’t had any luck.

She exited the library, deciding to stop looking for you. And just send you a text something she should’ve been done. As she took out her phone to send you a message, her gaze landed on the recognizable tote bag you always had with you.

“y/n ?.” Abby's voice came out gently, tinged with uncertainty. You paused briefly, clutching the straps of your bag tightly, then forced yourself to look away and continue walking, your heart racing. It felt as though it was thumping outside your chest.

“Y/n wait, let me talk to you.” Abby called out as she jogged behind you, trying to close the gap, reaching for your arm in a bid to slow you down.

“What do you want, Abby?" you snapped, pulling your arm away from her. She stared at you, starting to say something but then stopping before the words could escape.

"Can we have a conversation?" she said softly, moving closer to you. You let out a scoff and shook your head in response.

“talk.”

"can we go to my place? I don’t think we should talk here."She proposed, glancing at the couple that strolled by,

You felt the need to keep your distance, saying, “I can’t; I have other plans.” You did your best to maintain a cold demeanor, but her expression softened you. Finally, you gave in and suggested, “How about this weekend? I’m free then.”

"Sure, that sounds good to me," she said, and you nodded uncomfortably as you walked past her. She turned to watch you as you moved away.

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The week had flown by, and at last, the weekend was here. Abby sat on her couch, anxiously waiting for you , repeatedly glancing at her phone to see if you had sent her a message. Ever since that day she saw you, you had occupied her thoughts completely.

A gentle knock on the door caught her attention, causing her to turn quickly. She got up, brushing her hands against her sweatpants. As she paced back and forth in front of the door, she contemplated what to say when she saw you. Finally, she approached the door, nodded, and pulled it open.

“Hi.” You entered quietly, and as you shifted to the side, you felt a bit out of place. You stood there, feeling awkward, while she maneuvered around you to shut the door.

You both stood quietly, exchanging glances that felt heavy and awkward. The silence stretched on, making the moment feel even more uncomfortable. Finally, Abby suggested that you take a seat, but you turned her down; you had no intention of staying there for too long. 

“ you look good.” Her words made you let out a frustrated sigh. “Is this really what you wanted to talk about ?”

“No, I ju- how have you’ve  been ?” 

“Abby.” You expressed your frustration by saying, “I could be spending my time on something better.”

She stepped closer to you “I wanna say, that I’m sorry for how I left things off.” 

“Your sorry ?” You nearly laughed, but it felt empty, weighed down by the pain you had kept inside. “Is that all you can say? Just ‘I’m sorry’?” Your voice trembled.

Abby paused for a moment, searching for the right words to convey her thoughts to you. She slipped her hands into her pockets, attempting to steady her nerves. 

“I was scared and i didn’t know your intentions. It was natural for me to protect myself, I wasn't sure how to handle it.”

You froze as you let the words sink in, “you could’ve just talked to me.” 

“I know, and I really do care for you and I’m  sorry I’ll spend everyday making it up to you.” She spoke closing the gap in between the two of you. 

“I should go.” You went to turn and Abby went to grab your arm stopping you turning you to face her . 

“No,I don’t want you to go.” Abby stepped closer, closing the gap in between you two , her gaze never leaving you. “I know, I messed up” she breathed. “And I’ll spend every moment proving myself to you. I can’t change the past but I’m here now trying to make it right . Please… let me make this right.” 

Your eyes meet her pleading eyes, and everything inside of you crumbled , she had finally got to you. Whether you believed what she was saying to be true or not. despite everything—you still wanted her.

“You promise ?” You whispered, your voice barely audible. 

Abby eyes lit up and  Without hesitation, she pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like she was afraid to let go. "I promise,"

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Abby had dedicated the last six months to showing you just how much she cared, and those months turned out to be the best moments of your life. She welcomed you into her world, sharing her thoughts and feelings, and you cherished every second spent together.

You both had introduced each other to your families, and if you had any issues with each other , you promised to keep them private and away from your friends.

“Did you enjoy yourself ?”Abby asked while leading you to the front door. As you both worked on rekindling your relationship, you emphasized the importance of not just focusing on sex but instead prioritizing quality time together, which meant going on dates every weekend.

“I did, thank you.” You leaned in and kissed her cheek gently. Gripping her belt loop, you both stepped inside together.

“What are you doing ?” Abby asked you as you pulled on her belt pulling her towards the bedroom “I thought our deal was no sex ?” 

“I know but I.want.you.”You whispered between kisses on her jaw while you unfastened her belt and pants. She then took control, gently pushing you back onto the bed.

She pressed soft, lingering kisses along your neck, and you tangled your fingers in her hair, tilting your head back and shutting your eyes tightly. This made her stop, and she took hold of your chin,

guiding your gaze to meet hers. “Look at me,” she whispered gently, even as your eyes remained closed. When you finally opened them, you took in the features of her face.

She drew you into a passionate kiss, and as she pulled away, she studied your expression before uttering those three significant words.

“I love you…”

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

[dilf-rot]

Nuisance

P2

MDNI 18+

Word Count: 1975

Tags: Wolverine x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, Mutant!Reader, Reader hates Logan, Logan doesn’t really care, Reader with a Vulva, GN except for the term “princess”, Hate sex, Agressive sex, dirty talk, P in V, fingering, oral, hickeys / biting, scratching 

AN: Written for an anon request <3

If you enjoy my work consider sending me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/rotwrites (Not required by any means, writing requests are still free!)

—---------------------------------------

After a particularly stressful mission, you and the others decided to throw a party. It was mostly you and Jean who put everything together, deciding how and if you should decorate, when it should be, etc. The two of you got along rather well, except you had a particular disagreement. She would say that Logan was on her list for the most attractive people at the mansion. You, however, could not stand him. 

His cocky attitude. His annoying comments during training. Sometimes even the way he stood bothered you.

Everyone had picked up on it rather quickly, including Logan, who was not exactly sure why you hated him, but didn’t really give a shit. He decided it would make his life easier if he pretended to hate you too.

The party was going rather well, nothing could go wrong by giving a bunch of stressed and lonely mutants unlimited (or mostly so) access to alcohol, party games, and the space to mingle while music blasted from someone’s borrowed speakers. 

“Hey Princess,” that voice you’d recognize anywhere. You turn around to see him, Logan, leaning against the wall, beer in hand. 

“Go fuck yourself,” You rolled your eyes and leant back against the wall. 

“Would if I could,” He flexed his hand, claws springing out from between his knuckles.

“Put those away, we’re in a public space you know.” You scoffed at him, he always seemed to want to show off at the worst of times. 

“Whatever.” He put his claws away, the blood from his knuckles dripping to the floor. Gross.

“What do you even want?”

“Just saying thanks for the party, is that so bad?” He shrugs, taking a sip from his beer.

“Why? It was Jean’s idea.” 

“That’s funny, she said it was yours.” You search the crowd and spot Jean talking to Scott in a corner. She returns your glance with a wave and a thumbs up. You curse under your breath. 

“Could I get you a drink?” He tips his beer towards you.

“Why?” You cross your arms, you already had a few earlier, but the buzz had worn off quickly. 

“Maybe it’ll make you a bit more pleasant,” He gestures towards the kitchen, “Come on, Doll.” 

You’re not sure why, but you follow him. Maybe because you have nothing better to do, or more so you don’t want to end up third-wheeling Jean. Or because everyone else is so preoccupied and you are always ending up on the outskirts. 

There’s way less people in the kitchen, just a handful sitting along the counter or bunched up at the table. Logan slides in front of the fridge, grabbing a beer and tossing it to you. 

“This isn’t gonna make me like you, you know that right?” You pop off the cap on the edge of the counter, the bubbles spilling over onto your hand. 

“That’s ok, you can tell me how much you hate me after we get out of here.”

“And why would I leave with you?” You ask between sips of the beer. It’s rather refreshing, though you’ve had better. 

“What else are you gonna do?” He gives you a smug look before heading out of the kitchen towards the stairs. 

Damnit. You curse yourself, every part of your brain telling you not to follow him, but you just couldn’t help it. And before you know it you're standing right outside his door, as he’s in the doorframe, you come back to yourself.

“I’m not coming into your room, Logan. I don’t know where you think this night is going, but you’re wrong.” He just smiles and walks further into his room, setting his beer down on his nightstand.

“Suit yourself, but you and I both know you were bored as hell down at the party.” He leans back against his head board. You hadn’t even realized he was wearing just a tank top and jeans until right now. 

“Do you know how much I hate those stupid tanks? Can you just cover yourself up for once?” 

“Why? My arms botherin’ you?” He flexes, and you avert your gaze to not get wrapped up in his preening.

“Yes. Your everything bothers me”

“Oh yeah?”

“I hate your attitude. How you think you're so hot, so cool. Always in the fucking way.” You drink from your beer. Leaning against his doorway. “Hate your stupid hair. And your smoking habit. Whole fucking mansion risks when you’re here.” 

He smiles, almost chuckling to himself. 

“I hate when you do that, too.” 

“Tell me more, Doll.”

“God fuck you. Do you even know any of our names or do you just make shit up so you don’t have to think too hard?” That one makes him actually laugh. The sound of it making your blood run hot. You could punch him right now and feel no remorse. In fact you just might. You slam the door behind you, stalking up to the side of the bed, putting your beer next to his and standing right in front of him. You reel back, “I hate your stupid laugh.” 

As you follow through with your swing he catches your hand, and you struggle against his grasp. “You know, starting to sound like you think about me a lot.” He smiles, dropping your hand. 

“Don't flatter yourself,”

“Don’t need to. You’ve been doing it for me.” He runs his hand up your arm, pulling you closer. Your balance falters and you fall on top of him. 

“Could you not?”

“Then stop me,” He’s right you could stop him, you should. But his warmth feels nice against you, and you haven’t had anything close to this in forever. He puts his hands on your thighs, you somehow ended up straddling him, hovering above him. Your faces are so close to one another. He leans up, his hips knocking against yours, he pulls your face down to his and kisses you. It’s fierce and sloppy and tastes like beer and smoke. In a blur he’s flipped you over, and tugged your pants off of you, holding himself up between your thighs. 

“Why don’t you put your mouth to good use for once,”

“Oh yeah, where would you like it, Doll?” You push him down, pressing his face against your cunt. You can feel him smiling against you, your fingers lacing in his hair to hold him still. Grinding yourself shamelessly against his mouth. His tongue hot and sweet, the feeling so much better than your hands ever could be.

He licks slow stripes up and down your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit, bringing it back down to poke at your entrance. Sucking your clit into his mouth and rolling his tongue around it. You bite down on your hand to stop yourself from moaning, your other hand wrapped in his hair pressing him against you. You’re practically humping his face as he eats you out, he hums against you, groaning as you tug on his hair. 

He brings his hand to trace up your thigh and pulls his face away to nip and suck at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Two of his fingers pushing their way inside of you and curling to press that sweet spot inside. He brings his tongue back to lap at your clit as he works his fingers in and out, drawing you closer and closer. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he makes you cum. Clenching down around his fingers, pressing your hips up against him, his tongue making lazy circles on your clit as you shudder and spasm. He pulls away and you see that stupid smug look on his face.

“For someone who hates me, you sure did cum a lot on my tongue.”

“Shut up,” you hide your face with your hands, but he pulls them back down.

“Nah,” He throws his shirt to the side, and slips out of his jeans. You don’t dare to look at him, naked, knowing he’s probably even more frustratingly hot without the clothes. “You still gonna hate me after having this cock?”

“Yes.” You close your eyes as you feel him lining himself up, he slaps the head of his cock against your already sensitive clit. The wet smack sound it makes is filthy.

“We’ll see, Doll.” He pushes in, fast and without much warning. He’s bigger than you thought, and the way he stretches you out makes you bite back a whimper. He trails small bites up and down your neck and shoulders, you shudder beneath him.

Why did he have to feel so good? You couldn’t stop yourself now, even if you wanted to. As he thrusts in and out of you, hard and ruthless, you can’t hold back your moans any longer. The way his cock drags along your walls, hitting sensitive spots, forming you to his shape.

“Fuck,” you whine and you feel him smirk against your skin.

“That’s it, let me hear you.” He whispers in your ear before returning to bite down hard on your neck.

“Ah, Fuck… that hurts…” But he ignores your protest, you imagine he could draw blood if he wanted but he doesn’t. He pulls away to lick at the teeth marks.

“Oh sorry princess… that one might bruise.” 

“Fuck you,” You drag your nails down his back and he groans. He brings a hand up to your chest, unsheathing his claws to tear apart the fabric of your shirt and bra. It practically dissolves into shreds in one quick move. Before you can say anything he chimes in.

“You can borrow one of mine.” 

He watches your tits bounce as he fucks into you, his eyes dark and hazy. He fondles them in his hands, squeezing them firmly. His thrusts never letting up. You can feel yourself getting close again and he knows it too. The way your hatred falters and you aren’t restricting your moans anymore, the way you're clamping down on his cock, your walls fluttering around him.

He brings his hand to his mouth, spitting on it, and then dragging down between you to messily rub at your clit. Your eyes roll back and you groan, it's almost nearing overstimulation. It makes your eyes water. You don’t even hear his claws come out before you feel a slight sting along your collarbone, it is barely enough pressure to draw blood, just enough to leave scratch marks in their wake.

You can’t even think enough to berate him for it. Your mind goes blank as you cum around him. “That’s it, cum on this cock. Let me feel you.” 

You feel him begin to falter as he pumps into you a few more times before pulling out and shooting sticky pools of cum onto your stomach. He grabs a towel from the floor and wipes it off of you before laying down next to you. Pulling you close to him as your sudden exhaustion sets in and you close your eyes

……………………

 The sun trickles in from the window, and you realize very quickly you are not in your own room. You slip out from the heavy arm around your waist, and make your way to the kitchen. Praying it was too early for anyone to be awake. You didn’t run into anyone in the hall, but as soon as you step in the kitchen, there’s Jean.Sitting by the counter, two coffee mugs in front of her.

 Jean looks you over, her eyes stopping at the very obvious claw marks and bites along your shoulders. Logan’s t-shirt. You were so screwed.

“Long night?” She says as she pushes a cup of coffee towards you.

“Shut up.” You take the coffee back to your room. Hoping that you had something to cover up all these goddamn marks, having found yet another reason to hate him for.

[moon1833]

SHORT-CIRCUIT - DENKI KAMINARI

“Am I going to have to kiss you or are you going to?”

The first time Denki Kaminari short-circuited in front of you had been the first time you spared with him.

It was your first day of hand-to-hand combat training, and Mr. Aizawa had paired you two up. Since you had joined a little later in the semester, he had decided not to tell any of your classmates your quirk. He figured it would be better training for them.

He stood in front of you confidently, eager to speak. “Hey! My names Denki Kaminari. You’re really pretty, what’s your name?”

You had been in classes for less than a week, but still, you had not been expecting that from him. You flushed, a little embarrassed with how loud he was. You introduced yourself, not revealing your quirk like Mr. Aizawa had said, and told him your name a little less enthusiastically before getting into your stance.

You decided to go easy on him the first time. Your quirk was strong, and while Kaminarai had already told you about his on your first dah, yours was still a mystery to most.

Eager to impress you, he jumped into action, throwing a powerful shock wave at you. Rather simply, you jumped back, turning your torso in the air to dodge. Before you could calculate your next move, a loud POP rang out, and you stopped your movement.

Brain fried, a stupid smile and thoughtless eyes followed your concerned gaze. You had dropped your stance, unaware of his ‘side effects.’

“Kaminari, are you okay?” You jogged over, placing your hand on his shoulder. You looked over at your teacher in concern. He wasn’t even turned in your direction, helping Midoriya on the other side of the room.

Kaminari is mumbling incoherently, but he’s desperately trying to tell you something. You lean closer, worry flushing your features.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words are loopy, and you hope they’re disoriented enough that no one else can hear him. “Wow. So gorgeous.”

You can hear Kirishima snickering behind you as your face turns red. Your eyes widen, and your mouth parts in shock.

“Um, does he need to see recovery girl?” You ask, turning to see most of the attention on you. You feel him playing with the ends of your hair.

“Nah, usually he just sleeps it off or walks around like an idiot for a little while.” Sero added, not attempting to hide his laughter at all.

“Oh, okay.” You say awkwardly. “Should I knock him out?”

“Woah.” Mina giggles. “I didn’t think he annoyed you that bad.”

“No, no.” You hold your hands up in defense, trying to shrug off Kaminari who was now trying to wrap his arms around you.

“It’s a part of my quirk, see?” Gently, you tap his temple, and he falls forward. You catch him, propping his arm over your shoulder so you could fireman carry him.

“Wow, you’re pretty strong!” Mina says.

“So manly.” Kirishima mumbles in agreement.

“Can we use that whenever Bakugo is being an asshole?” Sero chimes in.

“HEY, I’LL KILL YOU!”

“I think I’m just gonna bring him to his dorm.” You duck out before Bakugo can charge in your direction.

-

The next day, you expected a quiet morning. You were on the shyer side, and you were yet to call any of your classmates your friends. People were more than friendly to you, Mina in particular was very welcoming, but as you took your seat, you didn’t expect anyone to talk to you until after homeroom.

The door slams open a minute to the bell, and Sero, Mina, Kaminari, Bakugo and Kirishima walked in together. For a moment, you wondered how Kaminari was doing, but you bit your tongue.

You had half expected for Kaminari to not speak to you, he seemed like the type to always get distracted by whatever was in front of him. However, when he shuffled into the room, his eyes immediately found yours, his grin widening and shouting a ‘good morning!’ to you.

From that point on, he took a liking to you. It was half flirting, but you learned to not take it seriously since you saw him do that to almost everyone.

He was extroverted, embarrassingly so at times. He’d talk your ear off at lunch and text you at 1am asking for homework answers. But still, you found yourself enjoying his humor and his effort, not to mention he wasn’t bad to look at.

Regardless of your classes teasing, you shook off Kaminari’s short-circuiting incident as being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You were sure that if any other girl had been in your place, he would’ve had the same reaction.

And then it happened again. And every time after that. Six months went by, and he barely uttered a word to anyone else when he was brain-fried.

Even when you weren’t in his immediate line of sight, he would leave from wherever he was standing to flirt with you. If you weren’t around, he’d babble about you until whoever was with him got tired of it and dropped him off to you.

It had gotten to the point when whenever he’d use his quirk, you would be on speed dial just in case.

You may answer with an exhausted sigh or an eye roll, but you never turned him away. Kaminarai barely even remembered whatever he said when he woke up, so it was never really a problem.

Until you found yourself falling for him.

It was stupid, really. He was so different from you, it was crazy to think he’d be genuinely attracted to you. But, you couldn’t help how your heart jumped when he said your name, or how he’d always leave his friends to talk with you.

Now, his short-circuited brain was a bit more of an issue. You knew how it worked by now, right away, he would barely be able to speak, just sounds strung together and loopy hand motions. Then, he’d go back to his chatter box self, but his thoughts were always jumbled, more than usual. Usually after that, he’d pass out for an hour and forget the entire thing.

“I think I love you.” He’s drooling a little, sprawled out on your bed while you’re desperately trying to focus on your review sheet.

“Okay.” You choke. “You should get some rest, you trained hard.”

“I can’t. Cuddle me.” He says dumbly, almost falling off your bed as he twists around, tangled in your comforter.

“Just close your eyes, Kami.” Your grip on your pen is leaving a red indent in your fingers.

For a moment, he’s silent, and you think he’s actually listened to you for once. You force your focus to your work, before a loud bang behind you makes you turn your head.

Blanket stuck between his legs, Kaminari was face down on your carpet, his shirt rolled up exposing most of his back. You ignored how his muscles flex as he tries to (and fails) to get up.

“Kaminari…” You sigh loudly, rubbing your face as you stand. He flips over to lay on his back, and his hair is sticking in a few different directions.

“Why don’t you ever call me by my first name?” He pouts as he looks up at you. He was actually stringing together proper sentences, which was almost surprising.

“You’ve never asked me to.” You try to pull him up, but he’s completely dead weight.

“Please.” He drags out the word, grabbing both your hands.

“Okay.” You flush at the contact.

“Say it.” He pouts again, and for a moment you think he’s going to cry.

“Okay, Denki.” His lips change dramatically, flipping into a grin that’s annoying contagious.

“Yay!” He pulls you down with a little too much force, and you land harshly on top of him. You’re a little dazed with how quickly you collide with his chest, and you almost don’t realize he’s wrapping his arms around your waist until he nuzzles his face into your neck.

You try to stand, but he holds you tighter with a whine. You feel the blood rush to your face, and you cannot fathom that this is happening on your dorm floor.

“You smell good.” His lips graze your neck.

“Denki.” You manage to get out. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on the bed?”

“Hm.” He thinks. “No.”

You groan in exasperation.

Eventually, he rests his head on the floor and somehow falls asleep, the rise and fall of his chest becoming slower. It almost pulls you into sleep, but your brain is speed railing through thoughts.

He had always been a bit of a handful with flirting, even when his brain wasn’t completely shocked. This, however, was a whole new level of it. You weren’t sure if you could survive it.

Even asleep, you couldn’t escape his grip. He let you fall to his side, his body turning with you. Now, he had an arm holding your back, while the other went past the crook of your neck, pulling you even closer to him.

His lips were aligned with your forehead, and you were sure you could feel him exhale if you moved any closer.

A stray hair fell onto his forehead, hitting the space between where his eyelids met. His nose scrunches in reaction, and you barely hesitate in brushing it off of his face.

Tentatively, you pat it down, running a few strands through your fingers. Somehow, his hair barely had any tangles, and he let out a soft sigh at the feeling.

You didn’t know what was going on, and you didn’t know what was going to happen when he woke up, but even still, there was an odd sense of peace with being so close to him.

Denki was warm, and he smelt like clean laundry. For a moment, you remembered earlier in the year when he would wear a sickening amount of cologne until you told him you couldn’t go near him without sneezing. You smiled softly at the memory.

Against your better judgment, you fall asleep quickly, feel a bit too safe in his arms.

When you woke up in your bed an hour later, you promised yourself you wouldn’t do that again.

Instead, it became a fast habit. If you refused to cuddle with him, Denki literally threw himself off of your bed and whined until you did. (One instance he sprawled out across the table you were using to study and rolled onto your lap).

Mina had suggested to just talk to him about it, since all he knew when he woke up was that he was with you. But, if you spoke to him, there was a chance you wouldn’t hold him again.

The longer it went on though, the worse you felt, like you were taking advantage of his state. You never went any further than playing with his hair occasionally, but you couldn’t shake the guilt.

It spiraled even more out of control the closer you became. Denki was touchy. He grabbed your hand at random and stood as close as possible to you. During movie nights with your friends, he’d go out of his way to sit next to you, his thigh always meeting yours.

One particular night, half of the 1-A class decided to have a sleepover in Mina’s room, due to her suggestion. The idea was better than it in practice, and most of your friends were sitting on her floor while Bakugo insisted he got the one chair in the room.

Midoriya, Uraraka and Mina were cramped on her twin bed, the pink haired girl doing whatever she could to squish them even closer together. You would’ve found amusement in Midoriya’s expression, but you were in the exact same situation.

Kirishima was next to Denki, who was next to you. You had found the most comfortable spot you could, next to a wall while sitting on Mina’s fuzzy pink rug. As expected, Denki sat right next to you, crossing his legs and greeting you loudly. When Kirishima sat down next to him with a smirk, you should’ve known.

By the time Jirou had shown up with the snacks, Denki was squished into you so tightly he was almost on your lap. You kept glaring at Kirishima, who pretended not to notice.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Mina gushed, almost knocking Midoriya off the bed with how she jumped.

“No way, you always make me eat something that makes me throw up.” Kirishima pouted.

“Dude, you can just pick truth.” Denki says.

“No way, that’s so un-manly.” He shakes his head in disapproval.

“Uhg, whatever.” Bakugo groans. “This is getting lame, just play.”

Quickly, Mina went first, putting her plan in getting Uraraka and Midoriya together by asking the wide-eyed girl who her crush was. She insisted she didn’t have one while flushed and staring at the boy next to her.

The game went on, and you were glad to be on the observing side. You barely commented, giggling when someone had to do something embarrassing and whispering in Denki’s ear little remarks that he always leaned a little too close to you to hear.

After any funny comment he’d make, he’d shoot a glance to you to see if he’d succeed in making you laugh, swelling with pride when you were already looking at him.

You’d been able to escape the first round, shuffling deeper in your corner when everyone had been asked but you. You had almost avoided it completely when Denki spoke.

“Guys you forgot her turn!” He grins, hiding a giggle while pushing you in front of him.

“Aw, I’m sorry!” Mina cried. “I wanna ask her!”

You grimaced, narrowing your eyes at Denki while mumbling a few insults at him. He only smiled wider.

“Hm.” Mina thinks aloud. “Do you like anyone?”

“Yeah.” You say nonchalantly, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Who?!” Mina shouts, and the intense focus on you feels suffocating. Even Bakugo had stopped complaining for a moment.

“That wasn’t part of the question.” You manage to get out, ignoring Jirou and Mina’s loud booing.

When the attention finally shifts, you sink back, visibly exhaling. When Denki’s turn comes, you try to downplay your interest.

“Okay, truth or dare?” Kirishima nudged him.

“Truth.” He mumbles while shoving chips into his mouth.

“Who do you think the most attractive person in the room is?” Kirishima asks like he already knows the answer.

You’ve been observant from a very early age. Being in the hero course at UA helped that greatly. When the question fell from Kirishima’s lips, you subconsciously studied Denki’s entire body language.

You watch his spine straighten slightly, his normally brash expression tilting into a more shy one, his ears burning red. He tenses up, you feel his arm move away from yours. You focus on his eyes darting around, and they fix on someone across from you.

Jirou. He’s looking at Jirou.

Your entire body feels cold suddenly as it clicks in your mind. He likes Jirou, and you’re practically attached to him. You’re in the way. Fuck.

You can’t think, your head is pounding and you feel like everyone in the room knew this but you. Ungracefully, you stand to your feet and step towards Mina’s door.

Your body doesn’t feel like yours as your hand pulls the doorknob, and you mutter out some excuse before ducking your head down and leaving.

You’re halfway down the hallway when you realize you left your phone in Mina’s dorm, but you don’t even slow your steps, rubbing your face ferociously. God, you’ve never felt this stupid.

You don’t expect for anyone to follow you, especially since it’s after curfew, but you don’t look back at the sound of thudding footsteps.

“Hey, slow down.” Denki pants behind you. “Jesus you’re fast.”

“I don’t feel well, please just go back.” Your voice is quiet.

“Oh.” You don’t have to turn around to know he’s rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Can I walk you back to your dorm at least then?”

“Okay.” You agree without thinking. You finally turn to him, not bothering to smile.

You lead the walk in silence, refusing to make eye contact as you fiddle with your pajama shorts. You can feel his eyes on you, firm and unmoving.

When you get to your dorm, you fumble with the key slightly before nodding a goodnight to him, opening your door.

“Wait.” He shoots an arm out, propping open the door and preventing you from moving. “I like you.”

You’ve heard him say it many times before, but his brain is completely normal now, and it fills you with shock. “What?”

“I like you.” He turns you to him, his hands resting on your shoulders. The door closes. “Like, a lot. And I’m sorry I haven’t told you any sooner, I’m kind of a wimp.”

You can’t help it, a sharp laugh leaves your mouth. You realize how terrible of a reaction that is to a confession and cover your mouth.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You apologize, but Denki’s laughing, too.

“I uh, I like you too.” You say after a moment. “But I thought you liked Jirou?”

“What?” Denki blurts a little too loud. “Nah, she’d just been trying to help me out. Plus, she’s got like a whole thing going on with Yaoyorozu.”

“Shit. I totally called that.” You sigh.

“I know, right.”

You rest your head against the door, smiling at him slightly. You don’t miss how his amused expression drops into a fluster.

“What?”

“I just can’t believe you actually like me.” He admits.

“You can’t?” There’s a small twitch of annoyance in your expression as you lift your back from the wall, inching closer to him. “I’ve been blatantly obvious about this for months.”

“Okay, well, I’ve liked you for the past year.” He retorts, subconsciously mimicking your actions until your shoes are touching. “And I’ve been pretty obvious, too.”

“Only when you’re practically brain dead.” You sigh, fingers playing with his hoodie strings. You watch his eyes widen slightly, a teasing grin on your face as you lean even closer. “You really are a wimp.”

His eyes are glued to your lips, entranced by the curve of your amusement. “Yeah.” He finally replies. “I am.”

“Am I going to have to kiss you or are you going to?” Your head cocks to the side.

He flushes, but before another comment can slide from your mouth his hands hold your face, and he kisses you gently.

It’s quick, and he ended up kissing closer to the corner of your lips. You smile nonetheless, chasing his mouth as he pulls away and firmly tracing his lips with yours.

Your hands make their way to his hair, and he kisses you back a little harder at the feeling. Unintentionally, your teeth graze his bottom lip, but before you could pull away and apologize, a sharp ZAP rips through you.

It isn’t harsh, but you’re well aware Denki just shocked you. You go to tease him, but by the look on his face you stop yourself.

“How did you even short-circuit!?”

[leggerefiore]

HCs for Giovanni, Archer, and Colress with a shiny charm S/O - they just have unreal luck with shiny pokemon they catch them bc they know they're rare and tend to just gift shiny mons to them (which I feel like for Giovanni and Archer that's such a bad idea those pokemon are getting sold or something) Bonus thought just rolling in my brain - Giovanni and S/O with matching shiny Nidos - or S/O having a shiny variant of the character's ace mon - I just think it's cute

cw: fluff, mentions of pokemon selling in Giovanni and Archer's parts

characters: Giovanni, Archer, Colress, Grimsley

🚀Giovanni🐈

🟥 He finds this trait quite valuable, naturally. Pokemon of any rare colouration will fetch a higher price even if they are common pokemon that most will barely register as important. Whether he believes you are a living shiny charm… He just assumes you are talented in seeking out these pokemon. There are many legends and rumours about things that make these genetic anomalies more likely to occur, of course. He had messed around with a few himself to see if it were at all possible. Unfortunately, he decided that was not the case. Or, perhaps the difference was not worth whatever it took to procure the supposed lucky items. Unfortunately, most of your gifts to him are passed along to his sellers, but he does keep quite a few nonetheless.

🟥 When you gifted him a blue, male Nidoran, you had somehow pierced his cold heart. A rare genuine smile crossed his lips as he regarded the pokemon carefully. It seemed you were aware of his tastes. He appreciated the gift thoroughly… The pokemon would join his team quite quickly, earning its place among his other pokemon. The blue Nidoking almost becoming something like an ace to him. Of course, your purple female Nidoran sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Something between a quiet claim on you and your obvious interest in matching with him. The green Nidoqueen almost represents a certain status you have within his organisation, even if you were not officially a member.

🐕Archer🚀

♦️ Your talent intrigues him, no doubt. Whether this is before or after Giovanni disbanded Rocket, he is always looking for a way to increase profits, and your generous gifts certainly give him a hand there. He is aware that he should feel worse about giving away the pokemon that you so lovingly gift to him, but he has dedicated his whole self to Rocket... Assuredly, you would come to understand. You give him so many since you seem to attract them. Part of him wants to study how you do it and imitate you, but even you seem unaware of just how you did it. It was frustrating, but he supposed it mattered little since you kept a nice supply to him. He is quite like his boss in many regards to this… There is a fake apology from him if you do seem hurt by his actions. The last thing he wants is for you to run off or lose your gifts.

♦️ He does keep some of them, though. Archer is not stupid enough to let things that clearly mean a lot to you slip away from him. And besides… Part of him does appreciate that you clearly adore him so much that you would give these gifts away. A green Zubat stays with him alongside a blue Houndour. The fact you gifted him such pokemon... He understood. They would even possibly join his team to reflect his position as an executive. (Though, only if Giovanni himself had a few shinies, too.) When you show him your bright blue Houndoom, he lets himself have a genuine smile. How cute. You wanted to match with him. Your love was clearly secured. He lets himself breathe and sends out his Houndoom. The two pokemon seem to reflect the relationship you two had in no time at all.

🥼Colress🛸

🧪 He is not necessarily sure he believes in your luck as a superstitious thing, but there is clearly something about you that does seem to attract shiny pokemon to you. Colress was fully aware of rumours about shiny charms and breeding pokemon from two different regions to increase the chances of hatching a shiny variation. There was scientific documentation even, but the increased chances were never something potentially high enough to warrant it if you were a normal person and not a breeder. He pondered what about you could attract these pokemon. Luck was something that was calculable and could be broken down, but he doubted it was just that. He is fascinated in your existence as a scientist, and he is documenting everything related to your outings. His current theory is a pheromone. Do not even ask how he got there.

🧪 Your gifts of shiny pokemon are thoroughly cherished. His research should naturally include multiple kinds of variations and variables related to pokemon and bonds, so having the chance to work with such rare pokemon gives him a chance to explore as many opportunities as possible. They are well taken care of, too, naturally. It is not in Colress's nature to be unnecessarily cruel. When you start gifting him shiny variants of his own team, his eyes light up. Even better to compare… He is utterly fascinated. When you show up with a beige-toned Klinklang, he is further elated. You chose one of his choices of pokemon species to keep as a partner. His bond with you must be quite strong, as well. There will be lots of data to observe… Prepare to be followed around by Colress and his tablet. You have entirely caught his heart and scientific interest.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ His intrigue is certainly up there. There was a certain theory he had about you being a good luck charm, but this was clearly some further expression of it. He fully believes that you must be some strangely lucky person due to the sheer number of shinies that you encounter.  Part of him wonders if he should strap you up with a shiny charm, have you do a certain pokemon breeding method, and see what profits are to be had. He starts internally betting your odds, wanting to figure out just what percentage you had to gather. Anything can become gambling for him, and your odds of finding a shiny Audino seem just as good as playing roulette. Really, he is simply astounded that his read on you had been even more correct that he initially intended.

♡ Your gifts of shiny pokemon are appreciated, and he takes the time to care for everything you give to him. Unlike some people, he actually enjoys gifts from his partner, and the fact that you trust him with these pokemon does mean a lot to him. Grimsley is aware of how shady he seems but feels glad that you saw through it. The shiny Purrloin you gave him was truly something cherished. He lets the blue kitten curl up in his lap any time, not caring about the fur that takes over his suits. Part of him wonders if your luck transfers over to the pokemon you gift… He supposes he could find out by training them. When you appear with a red Liepard rubbing into your side, his smirk becomes uncontrolled. Oh, is that it? He easily makes the cruel pokemon purr while meeting your eyes. It seemed you wanted to match. He was more than happy to do so. But… Well, his Liepard was a bit too jealous to do anything in the end. How unfortunate.

[suzukiblu]

AND! Tim/Not Kon! Carefully navigating a relationship with someone you created to replace your dead best friend, but fell in love with as themself!

“I think you made me kind of a slut, man,” Hunter muses, which would probably not have made Tim choke quite so hard if Hunter hadn’t been speculatively dragging his eyes up his body while he said it.

The part where the other’s draped over the nearest weight bench in this Titans Tower training room and wearing literally nothing but running shorts and sneakers isn’t helping either.

Also Hunter definitely needs a haircut because his hair grew down past his shoulders in development and he didn’t want to cut it after, but Tim is just not emotionally capable of dealing with the barely-restrained curly ponytails and half-ponytails and man-buns he’s been wearing. Just–not even slightly, no. Not even a little bit. 

“You are literally a virgin,” Tim says inanely, trying very hard not to drop either his bo or his literal entire brain on the mats. “I–what? What?” 

Hunter shrugs; rolls onto his back on top of the bench. It leaves him bent backwards over it, back arched and head upside-down as he skims a hand up his bare stomach. Hunter is, somehow, even more tactile and hedonistic than Kon ever was, which Tim is very suddenly being reminded of. 

He debates the merits of panicking. Or maybe, like, running for his life. 

“I said, I think you made me kind of a slut, man,” Hunter repeats, like that’s the part that Tim was trying not to drop his brain over. “Like, either libido-wise or uploads-wise, I dunno.” 

“Wh–I didn’t put anything like–I didn’t–” Tim half-sputters, and the crushing depression that’s taken over most of his life since everyone died on him and Bruce disappeared and Dick gave Robin to Damian is possibly actually just too baffled to be crushing him right now. Hunter gives him a lazy, half-lidded look, tipping his head back a little farther on his neck. His throat is . . . his throat is very, very exposed. And thick. And long and strong and stubbled and– 

Nrgnk, Tim thinks, very faintly.

He did not ever look at Kon’s throat and think things like that. 

He is definitely, definitely thinking those things about Hunter’s, though. 

“Oh my god, you fuckin’ sad-ass wet canary, I don’t mean I think you did it on purpose,” Hunter snorts in exasperation, rolling his eyes like Tim’s an idiot or something. Tim is not an idiot. Tim is actually, like, reasonably intelligent and–he made Hunter. That required being pretty damn smart, actually! Really damn smart, actually! 

. . . and also unfathomably, unfathomably stupid, admittedly. 

“Then what do you mean?” he asks warily, because Hunter is about a month and a half “old”, except also more like nineteen, and has already decided that he does not give a single telekinetically-flying fuck about things like social graces or social filters and it’s frankly a miracle that nobody’s killed him for that yet. Or, uh. Tim. Or killed Tim for that. 

Cassie definitely thought about it, he knows. 

Seriously, though, just–as bad as Kon ever was about anything, Hunter has definitely actively decided to be worse. Which is admittedly a very “Kon” kind of decision to make, except also just . . . absolutely nothing like Kon, at the same time. Hunter literally does not even care that Superman exists, for one thing, and has about as much interest in wearing the “S” as Lex Luthor does, but also does not care Luthor exists either. Like–impressively does not care about either of their existences, in fact. 

Tim might have, uh, overcompensated a little while trying to make sure the “Kon” he was making wouldn’t have as many issues about his gene donors as the real one had, but also Hunter might just be that goddamn contrary. It’s unclear, at this point. 

“Oh, like I keep thinking about fucking climbing somebody,” Hunter says. “Like, literally? I’m pretty sure I could do it literally. You know, could float a bit if I had to, whatever.” 

“I mean, you’re very, uh–tactile,” Tim attempts awkwardly, really not knowing how to approach this conversation. “And still only have about five minutes of experience with actual human contact, but also teenage hormones? So wanting to, uh–be tactile with a lot of people isn’t necessarily, you know . . . uh.” 

“I meant I wanna climb somebody specific, Wet Canary,” Hunter corrects dryly, rolling his eyes again. “Not like, literally everyone I know. Well–okay, also Starfire and Nightwing. But like, Starfire and Nightwing, so can you blame me?” 

“I plead the fifth,” Tim says, since that is his sort-of-brother and his sort-of-brother’s situationship that Hunter is talking about right now and he just . . . he just needs the plausible deniability there at least, okay? And also does not have the time to have a sexuality crisis right now either. Like, that’s just not going to fit in his schedule, despite all Hunter’s–Hunter-ness being a thing. 

“Maybe also Red Hood,” Hunter muses speculatively, drumming his fingers on his stomach. Tim . . . does not know how he feels about that. At all. Either the fact that Hunter is talking like he’s actually attracted to guys, or the fact that one of the guys he apparently finds attractive is Jason.

“You know he literally beat me half to death once, right?” he reminds him. Hunter smirks at him. 

“Yeah, and I bet he looked hot as fuck doing it,” he says. 

“. . . . . . I plead the fifth,” Tim mutters. Hunter drops his head back even further on his neck and cackles. Tim does not think anything about his throat. Like–definitely he does not. 

“Also I would definitely sit in your Bat-daddy’s lap, if you guys ever figure out if he’s dead or not,” Hunter decides, nodding to himself as he says it. 

Tim falls off the mats. Or like–the floor, maybe? Like–that’s just what happens, yeah. Hunter laughs at him again. 

“I hate you,” Tim mutters extremely feelingly, attempting to just . . . just attempting, maybe. Literally he does not even know what he’s “attempting”, except maybe to not to have a heart attack at eighteen and a half. 

“Aw, too bad, ‘cuz you literally made me so therefore you did this to yourself,” Hunter replies with a broad grin. Tim definitely hates him. “Maybe you should work on all that self-punishing shit, man, you coulda made a way nicer guy than me.” 

“I was trying to make Kon, that really would not have happened,” Tim retorts dryly, and then wonders when exactly his dark humor got this dark. Well–logically, it would’ve been somewhere around all the dead people and all, he guesses, but still. 

“Really, because literally no one has described that dude to me as anything but, like, a socially-awkward marshmallow who was just constantly fronting whatever overbearing ‘please like me’ behavior he thought would work,” Hunter says, giving him a wry look. “Literally. Literally no one. I think the dog thinks he was a marshmallow, in fact.” 

“Right, and you’re so hardcore and edgy over there,” Tim says, eyeing him briefly. 

“I mean I’m capable of, like, things like saying ‘no’ to people who aren’t active supervillains actively trying to murder somebody not me,” Hunter replies reasonably. “So I’d like to think I’m at least, like, nougat or something. Maybe a caramel.” 

“You are not even Nutella, Hunter,” Tim says, and Hunter laughs again and then rolls back over and shifts up to straddle the weight bench, his thighs very . . . thighs about it. Tim tries not to be a weird little freak about said thighs, but in no way is he not a weird little freak about said thighs. 

Jesus, why are they so thighs. 

Hunter leans forward, bracing his hands on the end of the weight bench. Tim pretends to be oblivious to the existence of the other’s pecs and that big broad grin he’s back to wearing. It’s not like he’s not used to seeing totally different people wearing that face, between Kon and Match and literal Superman, and also like . . . Superboy Prime, fuck that guy forever, but Hunter still manages to look just a little bit more different than that, somehow. 

Tim literally does not even understand his own brain sometimes. Or at all, maybe. 

“I just keep thinking about doing the climbing, is all,” Hunter says. Tim forces his incomprehensible excuse for a brain back on track. “Like, the specific climbing of a specific somebody, mostly, but still a lot of climbing in general. And also how to convince said somebody to teach me how to have sex, like, in a way that is not the high school-level sex ed course somebody uploaded into my brain. Though like, that’s also a thing I keep thinking about.” 

“That doesn’t sound like you’re a slut, that sounds like you have a crush on someone,” Tim says, a little perplexed. “Or, uh, a psychosexual obsession with. But let’s hope for ‘crush’.” 

“Oh,” Hunter says, looking pretty perplexed himself. “Huh.” 

“The part where you’re perving on Nightwing, Red Hood, and Batman might be a little much, though,” Tim says dryly, mostly to move the conversation along before Hunter says anything that–

“Well, yeah,” Hunter replies with a shrug, leaning forward a little heavier on his hands. “”Cuz they’ve all got that same Bat-vibe somebody’s got.” 

“. . . what,” Tim says. 

“I really did not think I was being subtle here, dude,” Hunter says, raising an eyebrow at him. “Like, at any point.” 

“I literally made you,” Tim says, staring at him in disbelief. 

“Yeah, do you wanna maybe try some daddy kink and see how that goes?” Hunter asks, cocking his head with a thoughtful expression. “I feel like maybe we could do something with that.” 

“Asdfghjk,” Tim says, and falls off the floor again. 

“Like, no pressure, just asking,” Hunter says with another shrug. 

Okay, Tim thinks. Maybe Hunter’s right, and he did kind of make him kind of a slut, one way or the other. Like–maybe. Possibly. 

And maybe Hunter is also right about him having done this to himself, considering.

[martiansodas-blog]

Hi! I was just reading your art donaldson head cannons and when I read this part specifically:

♡ wouldn’t mind having a slightly younger partner. he’d like teaching them things and it’d boost his ego a little bit. you two would tease each other about your age all the time.

I immediately new I had to request a one shot ( I think thats what they’re re called ) of them actually teasing each other maybe a bit nswf but yeah so if you could make one 🙏🥹

🎾 🤍💐✨🎀

“you keep me young.”

“and you gave me my first gray hair, can we go now??”

art liked to imagine you old with all gray hair and fine lines. him standing right by your side.

but he’s getting ahead of himself.

“ya know speaking of hair, you should let me use my curly products on you!”

“you don’t think i’ve outgrown that?”

“are you kidding? it would look so good on you now! i’ve only seen pictures of you with a mop on your head i want to experience it first hand.”

he rolled his eyes but the crinkles around them brought by your cheekiness was prevalent. he can’t hide anything around you.

“alright. you’ve convinced me.”

the two of you were chatting in a local coffee shop. there are a dozen cafes closer but you love this one. and art loves whatever you love. it has personality. they make their syrups from scratch and have a little patio for when it’s sunny.

the man was already convinced you were an angel, but the sun behind you giving you a halo was icing on top.

art drowned in your beauty.

the kind of beauty that made everyone else in the room look bad.

the kind that made you create a whole album in your phones photo app.

he made sure you knew just how stunning you were.

but your beauty was also the least interesting thing about you.

“thanks for taking me here.”

“of course. we really don’t come here as often as we should.”

“it’s out of the way. i’d feel bad if you had to fill up your car AND pay for my meal.”

you said it jokingly but it’s easy to feel guilty that about art spoiling you to the extent that he does. you didn’t have much to give in return.

art takes your smaller hand in his and plays with your fingers. the next time he speaks it’s quieter, and with fervor.

“you are a gift, my gift. you were sent to me.”

he looks into your eyes.

“everything i get to do for you is a joy, ok?”

art wasn’t raised religious, frankly he thinks most of them are bullshit. he never thought about believed in fate.

until you.

it took some getting used to- being appreciated on this level.

boys your age could never worship you the way art does.

you were younger than art, yes. but he wasn’t attracted to you because you were mailable. he was attracted to you because you were brilliant. you were passionate, funny, and if you disagreed with someone you stood your ground. you brought a fresher perspective to his life.

with that being said, he still wants to protect you from the big bad world.

you can defend yourself in every sense of the word, but why would you need to when you have a rich experienced man by your side? there’s a lot of people out there who don’t have the best intentions. especially with a girl in her twenties. that’s where art comes in.

he decides that you still need some convincing even after today's date, so he keeps you in his master bedroom for a few hours.

he wants to rewire your brain and ruin anyone else for you.

“you don't get it, do you? when i said i liked you, it wasn't just skin deep. ive got some bad intentions. i wanna take every inch of you and make it mine; i want you to breathe for me, eat for me, i want all of your orgasms to be because of me.”

the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you

[milkteasweetheart]

『just like heaven, chapter 1, part 3』

this part contains riddle’s dream sequence. 

housewardens x reader

author’s note: i depict nrc as an actual college, so first years are 18, second years 19, etc.

summary: crowley has the bright idea of a bonding experience, specifically in the form of a dream potion.

characters: (riddle rosehearts), leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia / platonic mentions: dire crowley (ew), grim

genre: romance, fluff, smidge of angst

warnings: female reader, reader is yuu, reader is around ace and deuce’s height, sappy, marriage, mentions of potential children, some suggestive themes

「dream scene: rose colored reverie」

Everything is going Azul’s way. Last week the prefect told him he has nice handwriting, his academic rival is suffering, and everyone is a bit on edge, especially Idia, who just tried to conspire with Jamil to figure a way out.

Azul is not nervous. He doesn’t have dreams, except those he’s already decided on. Goals is a better term for it. He is curious as to what the prince of Briar Valley wants. Perhaps he could make a deal? A bit ambitious, but… such is business. Speaking of Malleus, Azul is sure he hasn’t blinked in a few minutes.

(Y/N) is sitting on a chair, turned away from the scene. No thoughts are currently moving inside her head in order to preserve sanity for upcoming tomfoolery. “Sweet potato, do you remember what your dreams are about?” Vil hopes they involve him. “I can’t really remember. I just blackout from exhaustion when my head hits the pillow.” His face isn’t exactly pleased. “Stress isn’t good for you. I’ll talk with the headmage. Just so you know, you’re always welcome at Pomefiore.” Preferably permanently.

“Let’s go to the main event, my love.” Dream (Y/N) extends her hand to Dream Riddle, who gladly takes it. (Y/N) is pretty sure she heard someone shriek a bit when the cafe warped. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The scent of roses wafts through the lakeside park. Stars dot the sky. (Y/N) is yet again quick to recover, and sees the couple on a checkered picnic blanket.

Riddle wants to run away. This is the conversation that happens at the end of each of his dreams. It’s blatant wish fulfillment, but it staves away most of the yearning during the day.

He finds his words. “...please. Let me preserve my dignity.” His face is comparable to the strawberry tart from the cafe. Leona ignores his plea and lies down on the grass near the couple. “Nah. Besides, I bet octobitch will have an even worse sapfest than whatever your brain could come up with.” Azul makes a face. “Mind your words.” He is ignored.

Jamil and Vil have settled onto the bench facing the meadow where the couple are laying. Dream Riddle has his head on Dream (Y/N)’s arm, and they are holding hands.

Riddle knows the coming conversation beat by beat. “It’s beautiful.” Gray eyes wonder at the sky. “So are you. More so, I’d argue.” Her voice is quiet, but confident. Like she’s speaking facts. “We’ll be together longer than the stars will twinkle in the sky.” A lovestruck smile crowns the statement. “You mean it?” The voice it’s spoken in wavers with the threat of tears. “I know it. We’ll live here, with our friends, and each other. We won’t have to do anything we don’t want to. I’ll take you out every night and day, if you want it. I’ll do anything so you’ll be happy.” The real Riddle is currently staring at the prefect. She isn’t reacting, but her gaze is soft. Is it pity she’s feeling?

He sighs. He’ll be clowned on for the rest of his life by Azul, and he pleads to the Seven that Ace and Floyd will never have any word of this. He jumps at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.

“...Hey. Don’t feel bad. Dreams come from the subconscious or something.” (Y/N) considered her next words. “We can go hang out somewhere cool if you want. Just ask.” She figured his mind has just blended some old romance movie and his want for rebellion without punishment together. “Thank you, prefect.” Riddle smiles with a relieved look.

That’s the queue for Malleus to change the dream into Leona’s.