#had a prof tell us once 'if there is one thing you take away from this class its that gladiatorial combat was not to the death'

[hillerska-official]

One thing about me is that i will not hesitate to correct somebody about gladiators. You could not fucking afford for gladiatorial combat to be regularly 'to the death' and while I'm here everyone was horny on main for gladiators in rome.

[little-diable]

Who prays for Satan? - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

This isn't our usual dark!Tom, he's still fucked up, but not as dark as the other priest fics. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Priest Riddle is the reader's theology professor, a man she has always found herself interested in, but things escalate when she joins his church for her internship.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, guided masturbation (f), spanking, forced confession, smut in a church/in a confessional, choking, degrading, unaddressed age gap, power play, professor x student, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!student!reader (about 3k words)

"Please remember that you only have time until Friday to tell me, where you will do your internship. Have a good week, and don’t forget the essays, please.” The sounds of students hastily rising to their feet echoed through the room, but while some were desperate to leave, getting away from the professor who looked like God’s finest creation, but spoke like the Devil himself, others were desperate to catch his attention with bland questions he found himself annoyed by. 

“(Y/n), do you have a moment?” His voice drew her closer, past the group of students who looked at her with hate swimming in their pupils. She didn’t look at them as she walked past them, coming to a halt in front of the tall man with a soft smile glued to her lips. “Walk with me.”

Neither of them spared the others another glance as he strode out in the hallway, expecting her to follow him. It wasn’t the first class of his (y/n) was visiting, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, as she found herself awfully drawn towards the priest, who had taken on a few theology classes at their university. Something about him was different. Something she couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard she tried to. 

“I knew you’d turn in your essay days before the others would even begin writing it, but I was pleasantly surprised by your work this week. It was smart of you to use the famous Mark Twain quote: “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” It always stuck with me.”

“Thank you, Professor Riddle. You once told me how much you think of this quote, so it only felt right to use it for this week’s focus on sinning.” The throaty chuckle rumbling through him left her feeling surprised, not used to seeing him this giddy. His smile didn’t waver, not as they came to a halt in front of his office, not as he guided her inside, not as they plopped down on their designated seats. 

“Your essay isn’t the reason for this chat, though. I was thinking of what you said to me, and I decided that you can join my church for your internship. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell others I’m allowing you to do this, I never give out internships, and I’m only taking you on because I know how dedicated and smart you are.” Heat rose in her system, crawling up her throat to force (y/n) to avert her gaze. She had been desperate to find a church to join, not wanting to spend her internship as a simple office help, she needed practice, something to help her figure out what she actually wanted to do with her life.

“I highly appreciate this, thank you, professor. I promise, I won’t make you regret your choice.” Her eyes flickered back to his piercing ones, instantly sucked into his mesmerizing grasp. He was like a siren, luring her into his trap to feast on her darkening thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t been able to shake ever since meeting the tall priest. 

“I know you won’t, (y/n). You will start Sunday morning to join me for the first service of the day, and then we can go through your task for the upcoming two weeks.” 

……

“Professor?” Her voice hallowed through the empty church. It was still dark out, an early morning she had struggled to adjust to, and yet her nerves had managed to get her out of bed, finding her way towards these holy halls. Her sneakers met the ground as (y/n) walked up to the altar, letting her fingertips dance over the cold marble, appreciating the grounding sensation she was instantly taken over by. 

“You’re early.” Professor Riddle's raspy voice made her jump, she had been too distracted by her surroundings to hear him approach, slowly turning towards him with wide eyes. He was wearing his black signature suit, paired with the white collar she’d see in her darkest moments, making heat pool between her thighs. 

(Y/n) clawed her fingernails into her palms to rip herself out of the hazy fog calling for her, needing to stay focused before she could do or say something that would end her internship right there and then. 

“I thought you may need some help preparing for the service.” A sickly sweet smile tugged on her lips, forcing his teeth to rot from the mere possibility of tasting her. He took a step towards her, with his hands clamped together behind his back, giving him an extra authoritarian touch. But while her body screamed at her to take a step back, to find shelter behind the altar, her mind murmured to (y/n) to hold still, not daring to give in to his intimidation scheme. 

“I certainly appreciate your help, (y/n). I knew it was the right choice to pick you for this internship.” He towered over her, staring down at her with his gaze reminding her of a snake, ready to pounce, to sink its poisonous teeth into her quivering body. At that very moment, she was Eve, tempted by the eternal sin, and he was her downfall. She stood closer to him than ever before, front about to touch his, seeking the warmth he emanated in a place as cold as this church. 

“So, what should I do?” (Y/n) needed to get away from him, no longer trusting herself with ignoring the shameless whispers ringing in her ears. But the tall man didn’t back off, he kept watching her with that smirk that told her he knew exactly what she found herself bothered by. A losing game (y/n) had never been destined to win, burning out like a cigarette setting a petrol station ablaze, destined to burn to the ground. 

“Why don’t you choose this morning’s prayers?” He reached for the Bible resting on the altar, way too close to her. His front brushed hers as he leaned forward, reaching for the leather-bound book before pushing it into (y/n)’s grasp. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as his hand disappeared inside the pocket of his jacket, pulling free a black rosary. “Oh, before I forget. Here, I want you to have this.” 

(Y/n) didn’t get any time to react or to ask questions as he pushed the rosary over her head to let it rest on her chest. His hand kept holding onto the dangling cross, while his eyes flickered back to her confused ones. “They will know you belong to me, wear it whenever you are working here.”

……

Her eyes were focused on the bright laptop screen as she was typing away her notes for this day, promising to give them to Professor Riddle before leaving. Even though her thoughts were still all over the place, (y/n) found herself growing more comfortable around the tall man most students were scared of. He treated her kindly, and yet something was hiding behind his words and expressions she couldn’t pinpoint. 

“Are you done with your notes?” Professor Riddle’s voice filled his office as he stepped inside. (Y/n) didn’t lift her gaze at first, hastily trying to type the last sentence before she gave in and dared to look at him. 

“Just finished, should I print them?” He didn’t reply to her question, eyes fully focused on her upper body, trying to locate the missing rosary. With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) watched him approach, rounding the desk to find his way towards her. (Y/n) struggled to breathe as the scent of his expensive cologne clashed against her frame, forcing her to get lost in his darkening eyes. 

“Where is the rosary?” She knew that she had forgotten it at home this very morning, too tired to care about any rules and regulations, but her hand still snapped up to her chest, trying to find the missing piece.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it at home.” He didn’t give in to the soft smile (y/n) shot him, didn’t pick up on the exhaustion dripping from her words, solemnly focused on the way she had gone against his rules. His tongue kissed his teeth before he took a step back and stretched his ringed hand out for her to take. “Where are we going?”

“I wanted to go over this with you tomorrow, but it seems like tonight is the perfect time to do so.” (Y/n) was led out of his office and down the hallway towards the dark nave. They walked up to the confessional, and as he opened one door for her, he shot her a look that made her tremble, letting any protests die on the tip of her tongue. 

“Have you ever confessed before, (y/n)?” She was engulfed by darkness, and could barely see her own hands, let alone the man who was sitting close to her, behind the wooden construction keeping them apart. The scent of incense hung in the air, sticking to her like a second layer of skin, a reminder of their sacred surroundings.

“No, professor.” (Y/n) had been addressing him as “Professor” for the past days, not daring to use any other title, let alone his first name. But the second she used this very title to address him, (y/n) could tell that it would be the last time she’d call him that tonight, a shift was happening, something she was now taken over by. 

“It’s Priest Riddle to you.” The barely audible gasp clawing through (y/n) left him chuckling, followed by the sound of him shifting around on the bench, making himself comfortable as she grew more tense. “You sinned, you went against my rules. I must punish you for that, (y/n).”

“Punish me?” She hated that his words pushed excitement through her, forcing her to sit even straighter as if he could see her. Her fingertips began to tingle, her legs were quivering, unable to hold still as something she had only dreamt of slowly began to unfold right at that very moment. 

“Honesty will be the price of your foolishness, (y/n). I notice the way you look at me, how you seem to long for something you aren’t allowed to even reach for. Tell me, (y/n), what is it you so desperately seem to want?” Embarrassment flushed through her, followed by anger she couldn’t shake. How dare he ask something like this? How dare he try to embarrass her for a simple mistake? She should have left the confessional, stormed out of the church, and reported the man for overstepping. And yet she didn’t, already stuck in the trap he had laid out for her months ago.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth. She didn’t know what she wanted from him if she was merely longing for his touch, or if something even more desperate was guiding her on. She didn’t know if she wanted a simple taste, or to be swallowed wholly by him. She simply didn’t know. 

“How far are you willing to go, (y/n)?” Her mouth felt dry, unable to swallow as his words began to sink in. (Y/n) was grateful that he couldn’t see her, the way her pupils were dilated by the lust flushing through her, the goosebumps covering every visible part of her body as if she was engulfed by an icy wind. 

“Farther than I should.” A part of her expected him to break the spell they were now connected by, to pull her out of the confessional and scold her for giving in this easily. But the priest didn’t move, and neither did (y/n). 

“Spread your legs, I want you to touch yourself like I bet you keep imagining me doing.” With her heart in her throat, (y/n)’s hand disappeared beneath her skirt, slowly pushing her damp panties aside. A soft moan clawed through the student, grateful that the others had left the church hours ago. “Good girl, fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Another moan left (y/n) as she pushed two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls as if she was preparing herself for his cock, desperate to take every inch. She kept moaning for him, choking on her sounds that grew heavier with every passing moment. 

“I can hear how wet you are, I bet you taste so sweet, like the forbidden fruit.” His words guided her on, ringing in her ears as if the Devil was calling for her, wandering through the darkness to reach his open arms, getting lost in his sweet promises. “I should imprint my palm on your skin for going against my rules. You promised you wouldn’t disappoint me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” Her needy whimpers left the priest chuckling, sounds that almost managed to drown out the ones clawing through (y/n). 

“I’m sure you are, (y/n). Stop touching yourself.” It pained her to pull her hand away, she had been close to giving in, ready to call out his name as her orgasm clashed through her, seconds before she could have reached paradise. The sounds of Priest Riddle leaving his side of the confessional echoed through the evening, followed by the sounds of him opening her side and stepping into the small space. 

She was pulled to her feet and tugged in for a kiss that left her moaning. (Y/n)’s arms found their way around Priest Riddle's neck, trying to pull the tall man even closer as if she were addicted to him. He broke the kiss to turn her around, pressing (y/n)’s front against the wooden wall separating both sides of the confessional. His ringed hands felt cold against her body as he shuffled her skirt up to her waist, letting her panties drop to the ground seconds later.

“I hope you prepared yourself enough for this punishment.” His ringed hand came down on her behind, forcing a yelp out of (y/n) who pressed herself further against the cold wood. Pain stretched itself through her, an unfamiliar kind of pain that made her ache for more. Once again, his palm met her warm skin, knowing that she’d struggle with sitting for the next few days. “I can’t wait to finally fuck you, make you pay for all these times I felt your eyes on me like a needy whore who doesn’t know when to stop.”

(Y/n) couldn’t protest, she couldn’t speak up to beg him for any kindness he wouldn’t offer. Only as she felt him pull away for a moment did (y/n) allow herself to breathe, blinking away the tears that had welled up in her eyes. 

“What do you want, (y/n)? And don’t feed me another lie. I want your honesty.” Chills ran down her spine at his dangerous tone, shaking through (y/n) like an earthquake set on ripping her off her feet. She had to deeply inhale, had to heavily swallow before she managed to put her longings into words, needing to break out of his trap. 

“I want your cock, fuck me, please, Priest Riddle.” A satisfied hum left the man, followed by the sounds of him ripping open a condom, prepared for his very punishment. It didn’t take long until she felt him at her entrance, slowly pushing into (y/n) with a heavy groan that dripped with need and lust clawing through him.

It felt as if they had been created for his moment only, bodies made to fit. 

“I should tell you to never sin again, to stay true to your promises. But you’ve turned me into a sinner as well, no promise could keep me from you any longer.” His words left her gasping, walls clenching around this twitching cock. He fucked her with urgency, set on proving to (y/n) and to himself that she was his, his to guide, his to punish. 

“You take my cock so well, I bet you dreamt of being fucked by me in a holy place, didn’t you?” His warm breath clashed against her tingling skin as he spoke his words, drawing a heavy sob out of (y/n) as she lost her grip on their surroundings. Tom’s hand moved like a snake, slithering back up to her throat to hold onto her, letting go of a raspy, “Speak when I ask you to.” 

“Yes, I did. I dreamt of it.” It was a simple reply, yet it was just enough to make the priest hum in approval. He twitched inside of her as he could tell that they both were ready to let go with their hearts pounding and their limbs aching. (Y/n) struggled to breathe on as he tightened his grip on her throat, forcing her head to rest against his broad chest. The priest stared down at (y/n), her lighthouse in the darkest nights, the burning bush to rely on. An anchor of safety. 

“Let go, (y/n), be honest once again.” She came with a gasp, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted. A sight so ethereal, the priest followed her moments later, letting his teeth graze his lower lip to draw some blood. He pulled out of her all too quickly, to turn her back towards him with his bloody lip finding hers, “Now you’re truly mine, bound my blood.” 

And who was she to deny a sinner a wish this pure? At least it was on them to pray for Satan that night, since God no longer would pick up on their calls. 

[joocomics]

i keep talking but this is the last one for now. i haven't had a decent sleep for a week cuz this stupid project i should've started after the prof announced it. i regret it but at least i finished it. another project to do again 🥹 it's neverending with the midterms.

idk if you did this but do you have any thoughts on somno for the members? i think jiseok would be up for this especially with his cockwarming obsession i swear.

- 🫧

# xdinary heroes + consensual somno

i do cause i can see all of them be open to this! after you talk about trying it sometime all of them would go for it sooner or later

♡ gunil

i see him as a big morning sex type of guy, so he definitely likes waking you up with his cock. fucking first thing in the morning helps him feel refreshed and energised for the rest of the day, and it happens frequently. most likely that’s why one day you tell him there’s no need to always wait for you to wake up, he can just use you to cum and get on with his day

you, wanting him to use you in your most vulnerable state for his own pleasure, the gentle toying with your clit and ass that you’re not even aware of, the surprised gasp you make once you wake up from him reaching your sweet spot - he loves it all, and every time he does it he takes a few clips so he can show you what you missed

♡ jungsu

he loves the idea of turning you on in your sleep. he doesn’t even necessarily feel the need to fuck you, he just wants to worship your body, kiss you up and down and eventually turn you carefully on your back to use his tongue till you start moaning in your sleep

he does it to make the experience fun for you more than for himself. he thinks you’re adorable when you wake up close to cumming from his fingers with your eyelids heavy, your hair messy and your voice deep and raspy from how sleepy you are; he also enjoys the first few seconds of surprise after you open your eyes and you have trouble getting used to the intense rush that he built in your tummy

♡ jiseok/gaon

you are damn right - cockwarming is one of jiseok’s kinks for multiple reasons, and on days when he’s exhausted from work he loves napping with his cock inside you. sometimes you plan it and that’s how you fall asleep together as he spoons you, but sometimes you fall asleep first and he pulls down your shorts to sneak his erection in letting the warmth of your cunt relax him until he drifts off to sleep too (just to wake up fifteen minutes later and start thrusting till he cums)

he also loves it when you wake him up by sucking his tip or straight up bouncing on his cock. he gets really turned on when you don’t shy away from getting what you want. however, you get to do what you wish to him while he’s asleep, but after he wakes up there’s a high chance he’s turning you over and not being vanilla at all

♡ seungmin/o.de

i see him taking more time to do this with you after you have the talk in comparison to other members perhaps. it’s when he catches you having a wet dream the realisation that this is the perfect moment to try it out hits him. he starts by gently brushing his lips over your shoulder as you sleep on one side, your quiet whimpers make his cock twitch, and his mind curious to know if you’re getting wetter from your dream

he ends up loving it cause the way you clench around him while you’re asleep feels even more exciting; the vulnerability and the intimacy of it is another thing that plays a big part of why he finds it hot

he praises you despite knowing you probably won’t hear the compliments until he slides it in

♡ hyeongjun/junhan

i think he prefers you practicing somno on him. he likes being used for your own personal pleasure, and he finds it exciting knowing you can randomly decide to sit on his cock while he’s asleep

he has a good time giving it to you when he wakes up with a morning wood of course, but the thrill of you playing with it as you wish while he’s still dreaming hits different for him. he loves opening his eyes to you already licking up his pre cum, ready to get yourself off by riding him as quick as possible

♡ jooyeon

if you sleep only in oversized t-shirts or nightgowns (with or without panties) there’s no way the thought of somno hasn’t crossed his mind. often when he catches you sleeping on your tummy with your ass exposed he gets the urge to squish it and push himself in. i won’t be surprised if this is some of his favorite type of porn to watch to be quite honest, i see this as a turn on for him

he loves it even more when he’s the one who’s sleeping. as a passionate lover of lazy sex he enjoys himself to the fullest when he can chill and you do the work. that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t tease you or command you after he wakes up from your mouth around his cock though. if you’re going to disrupt his nap you have to be ready to deep throat him until you’re out of breath and he always lets you know that

[thecaptdynamite]

So doing a OnlyJaunes story on Wattpad, here is the first chapter

Jaune Arc had just turned 18. He was a stalwart lad who had undergone a lot in his life.  One of the biggest hurdles was surviving Beacon Academy. You see, he had come here for righteous reasoning. But unfortunately, his means of entering were less than legal. In fact, it was illegal all around. He had spent his money on fake transcripts to get him there.

So the main problem stood as follows: he needed money and fast. Fortunately,  he was able to find a way to earn hun so extra lien so he could not have his grades suffer. The job, however well, let's just say he's glad Pyrrha has been helping him work out. 

Jaune: "Alright, I'll adjust the lighting a little bit here and here." Jaune is seen adjusting a studio light towards his bed, his scroll on a tripod and him wearing only tight boxer shorts. "Let's see. Maybe I can pose like this." In his hand, he has a button to help him take pictures, in which many of remnant has purchased.  You see, Jaune sells pictures and videos of himself on OnlyHunts, a website where beautiful people use their bodies to make money.  And since he started, he made back everything and more. "Alrighty, let's try here." He leans a bit, spreading his legs and adjusting his sack to look more plump in the underwear. A quick snap sound popped up, and he went to the camera to check it. He himself liked the angle, though he was cut he had a nicer body thanks to him working put more often, plus his Huntsman training has definitely helped a lot.  He did a few more poses, more showing off the Arc Cakes. After about 45 min, he started putting everything away after putting pants on.  He uploaded the photos he felt good about first and let time do its thing.

About an hour or so later, Jaune was sitting in Prof Port's class. As he took notes from his stories, his scroll went off on a vibrating frenzy. Luckily, it was in his pocket, and he was able to silence it. A quick smile grew as he had a feeling what it was. While Port turned to the board to write, Jaune pulled out his scroll to take a look, and as he expected, his likes went up on the post he did. Another thing he enjoyed was the compliments he received on his body. Something about helped him cope with his self-esteem issues he obtained due to his family.

AtlasMommy73: Another wonderful set Golden, God I'd love to see you.

IceTips: Please stop teasing and let us see your 2 hander ;).

SpartanStrength: Please just take me.

SpecialSnow:  Please come to Atlas so we can melt these caps. ;*

So on and so forth, the thrist was real. As more and more requests for Jaune came to light. Though he wasn't too worried about people finding out because, let's be honest, his friends were as dense as he was in the past.  He noticed Pyrrha staring into her scroll hard but paid no mind to it. He then continued his day like normal.

Throughout the day, Jaune felt eyes on hum, he's not sure why, but he felt he was being watched.  He turned around to an empty hallway. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued on his way. After a few more minutes, he felt the eyes on him again. Suddenly, he turned around and looked once more only to seek the same empty hallway.

Jaune: "Man, I think I need more sleep." He turned and walked towards the dorms.  As he did, a certain redhead was following him, not the one you're thinking if.

???: "Soooo fearless leader, you're the famous Golden Knight?" Jaune froze as he turned around and saw none other than Nora. "Don't worry, fearless leader, I only want one thing." Jaune, starting panicking, what could she want, money? Fame? Dic- "I wanna be your manager!"

Jaune: "Wait, what?" Jaune felt releived, but at the same time, he had an overwhelming amount of dread.

Nora: "You see, Jaune-Jaune, I know that you've been taking pictures. And though you've hidden your face, I can tell. Surprisingly, no one has put two and two together, but I can help edit your photos to prevent that. And even offer to maybe do BG shoots. For let's say 30 percent to see how you like it. Sound good?"

Jaune was at an impass. What did he have to really lose. He knew he could trust Nora, and he was making a good amount of money.

Jaune: "You know what, Nora, you got a deal!" He sticks his hand out for a handshake, but Nora grabs it and hugs him tight.

Nora: "Oh, I can't wait to show you what we can do!"

-if enough are interested I can post the link for you all for the rest.

[littlelewdmable]

He's Very Friendly: An Extended Edition

"Game Over!" The sound radiated from Jaune's scroll as he'd died yet again in the game he was playing. He sighed and closed his scroll. Jaune sat up on the Rose's families living room couch.

It was the week after their semester exams, and after weeks of intense study sessions and more tests than Jaune ever wanted to see again, Yang and Ruby had invited him to spend their break week with them on Patch.

Why didn't they bring Blake or Weiss?

Weiss' sister, Winter, happened to have a posting in Vale for the next few weeks and Weiss wanted to spend time with her. Which was certainly understandable.

Blake, well, she kind of just didn't want to come. Though judging by the fact the Yang kept making jokes about her, "Spending a little time in the sun," her wanted alone time was probably less due to her wanting alone time and more her wanted quality time with a certain blond leader.

As for Jaune's own team, Pyrrha was visiting her mothers in Argus. Nora basically demanded Jaune leave so that she could "Ride Ren like a show pony." So it was looking like there would be some cleanup for both dorms.

Jaune had to sleep on the living room couch last night. Seeing as he doubted either Yang or Ruby would appreciate him sleeping in their bed and it just wasn't the gentlemanly thing to do. Though seeing as it was now a little past eight and the girls probably both wouldn't be up until at least noon, it didn't leave Jaune with much to do.

That was until he heard someone walking down the stairs. Looking back over his shoulder he saw a Rose, though not the one that had invited him over, but Summer Rose. Wearing an old, oversized, band t-shirt. It covered the shorts that she was wearing, or Jaune guessed that she was wearing. He really couldn't quite tell.

"Good morning Jaune," Summer said in a sing-song tone, "I hope the couch wasn't too uncomfortable for you. If it was, you could always sleep in my bed." Summer laughed before leaning over the back of the couch.

Jaune looked away from Summer, but not before getting a peek of the fact the she wasn't wearing a bra. And the fact that if he didn't know for a fact that Ruby and Yang had different mothers, he wouldn't have doubted for a second that Yang was Summer's child.

Which is to say, Summer would probably give Yang and Prof. Goodwitch a run for their money in the Bustiest In Beacon awards.

"Yeah, I umm, slept fine." Jaune said rubbing the back of his head. Trying to get the thought of Summer topless out of his head. That last thing Jaune needed was to get a 'Red Rocket' as Yang liked to joke about.

"I didn't hear a no to you sleeping with me," Summer teased before giving Jaune a playful pat on his shoulder. "Now come on, I'll make you some breakfast and then we can figure out what we're doing for today." Summer walked into the kitchen.

Jaune got up from the couch and followed Summer. Just a little breakfast. What was the worst that could happen?

------

Well, it wasn't just a little breakfast. In fact, if Jaune's mom had served the whole household with the food he'd just eaten, it would have been considered a pretty decent helping for everyone.

"Did you enjoy your breakfast, Jaune?" Summer said placing a hand on Jaune's shoulder once again.

"Yeah, it was amazing. Thank you Mrs. Rose."

"You can call me Summer, Jaune." Summer said grabbing his now empty plate and taking it over to the sink. "And I'm glad you enjoyed it. You may not believe it, but I used to be a terrible cook before Ruby was born." Summer began cleaning up.

"It's going to be a beautiful day today," Summer said looking out the window overlooking the sink, "Great weather at the very least."

Jaune took the opportunity to look at Summer as she stared out the window. Shapely legs and wide hips. She certainly wasn't lacking her lower body. Jaune getting a clearer look as she leaned over, the shirt being oh so close to revealing... whatever Summer called het butt.

"Oh Jaune," Summer said in a sing song tone once again, pulling her shirt up to reveal that she was only wearing a pair of white and red panties underneath. "You like what you see?" She swayed her hips side to side as Jaune tried to come up with some sort of response.

Jaune failed miserably as he sputtered away, pulling a convincing impression of Ruby, Summer rolled her eyes and walked over to him. This time scratching behind his ear and placing her other hand on his thigh. Dangerously close to Jaune's sword.

"You are a good boy," Summer whispered into his ear sending a shiver down his spine. "And such a good boy wouldn't mind helping me out a little bit, would you?" she rubbed his leg.

"Help you with what?" Jaune managed to stutter out.

"You really are your father's son. You go through heats, don't you Jaune?" Oh yes he did, and he'd had the extra sock laundry to prove it. So he nodded, not quite understanding Summer's point. "Then you know what's like when a heat isn't satisfied, and you might be able to guess that it's been a very long time since I've been... satisfied."

Well that wasn't good. If a faunus went through enough heats without having it satisfied, at least somewhat, then it could lead to some bad things. Mostly irritability and more intense and frequent heats. Jaune guessed that same thing could be true for humans. And if Summer needed help, then what would a good boy do? He would help her.

"You- You want me to help... satisfy you?" Jaune said, with Summer nodding and giving Jaune a grin that he'd previously only seen on Blake during one of her book's steamier scenes. "If you think I can, then I'll help."

"Wonderful," Summer whispered in his ear, moving her hand to grab Jaune's groin and kissing his cheek. "The girls shouldn't be up for while, but we should make this first one quick."

"First one?" Jaune said, his sword being fully unsheathed in his pants as Summer rubbed him through his pants.

"Oh yes," Summer cooed, "We're going to be spending a lot of quality time together Jaune." Summer let Jaune out of her milfy grasp. Instead taking the time to bend over the table next to him. Pulling up her shirt and her panties down far enough for Jaune to get a clear view as he stood up and behind Summer.

Jaune pulled his pajama bottoms down, revealing his not quite manhood, as he stood erect. His red dog faunus cock standing at attention, knot already ready to stuff Summer's soaked pussy.

"I see someone's a big boy," Summed cooed as she looked behind herself at Jaune. Just measuring from his tip to the knot he would already be considered large by human standards, but adding the knot to his length, well, few of the men at Beacon could compare.

This wasn't quite the way Jaune thought he would lose his virginity, but as he looked over Summer's thick ass, he couldn't really complain.

------

Summer felt Jaune place a hand on her hip as he lined himself up to her entrance. Rubbing against it in slow wonderful strokes. Pressing against her needy pussy. So close to penetrating her before sliding off. He once again attempted to skewer his target before slipping off again.

"Need a little help there?" Summer said, looking back over her shoulder again. Jaune nodded, so Summer ran a hand under herself and grabbed onto Jaune's thick cock. What an interesting texture. And she lined his cock up with her entrance as he slowly pushed in. She moaned softly as he finally penetrated her. Burying himself up to his knot and filling her up wonderfully.

Jaune wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled himself down on Summer's back as she held herself up on the table. Resting his chin on her shoulder. "You can start moving whenever you want dear," Summer said.

Summer moaned again as Jaune began making slow and steady thrusts. Nearly pulling himself out of her before slowly filling her up again. Steadily increasing in pace until he was properly fucking her like a bitch in heat.

She moaned loudly, not enough to wake the girls up, but more than enough to drive Jaune crazy as his breathing picked up and his pace followed.

"Oh, you're such a good boy," Summer said, taking the risk of moving on of her arms to reach up and pet his soft golden hair. Before quickly moving in back down to the table as Jaune placed more of his weight on her. One of his hand snaking up and grabbing roughly onto one of her breasts.

If he kept this up much longer Summer would start screaming her head off.

Jaune switched from his fast thrusts to a slowly, but stronger pace. Pulling his cock out of her so wonderfully slow before slamming in back inside making Summer moan his name every time he bottomed out.

But he hadn't bottomed out yet, no there was still that wonderful knot of his that he needed to shove in her. She wanted nothing more than to feel it's full girth inside her as he starting pressing it against her begging pussy. "Knot me Jaune! Knot me!" She screamed before finally, wonderfully, he pressed it against her harder.

Her tows curled and her arms gave way, only Jaune keeping her from slamming into the table, as his knot finally pieced her. She screamed from the pleasure and the pain as every single inch of Jaune's cock was in her. Grinding into her pussy as it filled her to the brim.

She came. She came harder than she had in years as thick ropes of Jaune's cum filled her. A warmth that she hadn't felt in years as all either pair could do was grunt and moan as they both reached their climaxes.

Summer and Jaune both panted as Summer rested her head on the table on Jaune resting his on her shoulder. "Not bad... for your... first time," Summer said, looking back at Jaune as he smiled softly.

"Thanks." He said, "It might be awhile before my knot goes down though."

Summer kissed his cheek. "Oh that's fine, I don't imagine-"

"MOM!!!" Yang and Ruby screamed in unison from the kitchen doorway.

Jaune responded with wide eyed horror. Summer simply smiled. "Good morning girls, I like your new puppy. He's very friendly." She cooed.

[imsleepinggoodnight]

Apex academy AU

I’m thinking that after the legends retire they have the choice to teach the best of the best to show them how to be apex legends.(this is years later so some have retired)

Caustics class is one of, if not the most difficult classes of the entire academy, since not a single distraction can take place. He teaches chemistry and biology mainly, he secondly teaches engineering and physics. He seems to be okay with what he’s doing, but deep down he is more than happy where he is. The only down side (in his opinion) is that he can’t use live human test subjects as much as he had hoped. Once a semester in chemistry and biology he somehow has convinced the academy to bring in a live , human subject for each. Rumours have gone around as to where and how he is getting these people, some say that they’re prisoners on death row but, who really knows? Anyways, the students that he enjoys the most are surprisingly not the ones with the best grades, but the ones who work the hardest. He had vantage in one of his classes and enjoyed her work ethic when it came to the difficult physics questions. Unlike the students who figured it out in minute and just sat back down, she spent days at the single question that was given to her. When she finally solved it she ran to his office and showed him all the progress that she had made. Little did she know, Alexander was overjoyed that she worked that the equation for hours on end. Before she walked out of his office he stopped her to congratulate her, telling her it was an incredibly difficult question. All she did was nodded and walked off and he was delighted with that response.

Horizon is one of the most loved teachers in the academy, even if her classes give caustic a run for his money. She teaches astronomy and physics first, then the apex games history second. Her main classes are filled with experiments and visually appealing tech thanks to her discoveries. Some students who aren’t even in her class will come and sit to watch the lessons since they are so interesting. She adores when this happens, trying to urge caustic to do the same thing (allowing students to watch) on their lunch break. When the two profs work together (which is once a month) the classroom is packed with students, eager to watch their presentation together. Her apex games history class is just a bird class to pass the time or random credits. Not only does she teach the history, but she’ll take iconic clips from the games and analyze them with the class, to see what they did right and what they did wrong. On the day profs have to catch up on work (aka the profs hang out) horizon and caustic are normally tucked away in a physics laboratory, trying to solve “impossible” equations. So far they’ve only been able to solve what happens inside of a black hole (they were so proud they sealed the chalkboard behind glass to save the moment forever) the reason she came to the academy in the first place, is because her son became a professor of mechanics because of his help making pathfinder.

Bangalore was given full control of the gun range which she ADORED. The physics students sometimes come in to put their equations to the test, and she can correct their mistakes without knowing how any of the equations work. Because she was a soldier for so many years, she doesn’t need to teach as many classes compared to the other profs. She still has classes in the gun range like the anatomy of weapons or showing how some of the more rare weapons work (Kraber, FF sword, knife ect.) she’s given only one class on callouts because some didn’t think it was “important” but she really enjoyed teaching that class. In combat she seems like an intimidating person but as long as you respect her authority, she is a calm and nice. Most people don’t even test her authority because she once lost her shit on a student who kept talking over her and disrespecting her authority.

Mirage got in because he got shot in the back of one of his knees, causing him to lose his ability to walk. The positive to this is he thinks he’s professor X and isn’t having a suck attack about the ordeal. No one knows how but he somehow got a cooking class to himself????? It’s not even super fancy it’s HIGH SCHOOL LEVEL😭. This is his MAIN CLASS PEOPLE. His secondary class is the art of bamboozling. No one knows how the FUCK he got the class to be named that but he does take it incredibly seriously. Even if no other legend can use his ability (copyright strikes yall) he still teaches how to escape out of the tightest of situations without being seen. He doesn’t really do much good to the academy, other than entertainment. Since 3/4 of the time he isn’t teaching, he’s still roaming the campus (since he lives there) trying to go as fast as he can in his motorized vehicle and even hitting ramps. A lot of speculation has gone around that he’s healed but he just really likes being compared to an x-men and he doesn’t wanna seem old using a cane, so he sticks w the wheelchair. He is an absolute social media ICON, students filming videos of his stupid ass around campus ( I’m thinking like a TikTok).

That’s it for now, I am failing my classes but I can write a bunch for my bookies so yeah did we like?

[koffing-time]

Team Calm Raid: Koffing-Time Debriefing

Hi guys, update after yesterdays very exciting events. I'm typing this while on the plane back home, so it's gonna be a bit for me until it's up, but once you can read it, i'm probably back at the café. I think i have to take the day off, to care for all my pokémon (more on that below), but Olivia has agreed to run the café for another day. (If it's urgent, i'll be around though) I am so thankful my friend, you are saving my ass! (Otherwise we would have been closed today)

So... what happened?

I posted a few tiny things, and maybe you saw post by other people, so you might already know. @champion-class-hatsune-miku made a call to action, and i decided to answer. Yesterday, we went to raid the Alola-Base of Team Calm. You know, those guys that do terrible genetic experiments to create so called "ultra-domesticated Pokémon". I don't want to go into detail, basically: these Pokémon are either passive beyond recognition, or get intimidated incredibly easy. They will not defend themself if attacked, and if they are a carnivorous species, they also refuse to hunt. Often to a degree where they can barely function at life. A lot of them have other health issues as well. And, well, those are the "successful" UDs. The less fortunate have horrible mutations. If you want to learn more, i recommend checking in with @prof-lemon and their initiative @team-violence.

The raid was overall a success. The base was destroyed, which was not what we were aiming for, but i'm not mad. This just means they won't be able to continue doing this stuff, at least in Alola. As far as i know, nobody was left inside when it collapsed, neither one of the raiders nor team calm grunts or the Pokémon they bred. The only uncertainty left (to my knowledge) would be Circe, the leader of team calm. I have to say, i hope she got away. Just to clarify, she did horrible things, but i want her to stop, not to die. A few grunts were hurt, some raiders got hit in the face as well, but nothing life threatening happend, as far as i know. Me and my Pokémon are fine. We didn't go for the front line with battles, we took on the role to care for the frightened UDs and give first aid to those who got hurt. (Big thanks to everyone who supported me there! I was not alone and this was very very VERY helpful)

The rescued Pokémon will be cared for. Each of us took a few with us, but the bulk had to be rehomed to shelters, at least temporarily. Another big thanks to Miku, she contacted a lot of them to prepare. I think most of the UDs are in Alola, but a lot of shelters all over the world have supported this cause. If you want to do your own little thing to help us out and adopt one of them, go and ask around. (Prof. Lemon and Miku can probably tell you which shelters exactly have some UDs). But be warned: these ultra-domesticated Pokémon sound cute, nice and easy to care for, but the vast majority of them are very high maintenance. Please make sure you are ready for such a commitment.

As for myself: i have 4 of these Pokémon with me right now. They are 2 Trubbish, a Mareanie and a Petilil. This is the main reason i have to take the day off. I have to show them around, and i should also spend some time with Flit and Ampersand (the Beedrill ad Sliggoo that i adopted from the Snowbelle City shelter. Thank you again @oh-shinx, for doing that event!)

That being said, if you have questions, don't hesitate to ask! And i'll see you all on wednesday for @frostbite-yinny's Babyshower, all right?

[saul-okayman]

This is my LONG vent about everything which I should prob not post

We have had big fights and I made sacrifices too, like during COVID I went to his country on a tourist visa to stay together. But we were leaving country A (where we met) and I had to go to my home Country B Before going to Country C

And I had to isolate for 2 full weeks, so ovb I wanted to be with my family after that, I either spent a month out of isolation or 2 weeks before leaving for COuntry C. And then He was mad when I left for 6 weeks (2 isolation and 4 w family) around Christmas time.

Then he did 3 years with me in Country B

There was one incident In country C where we went to a new take out restaurant to get food for us, and his sister (plus her wife) BEFORE the grandparents birthday.

The food took forever, and took so long that he came into the restaurant, yelled at me before leaving. I was tearing up and the server had to keep asking of I was okay. I get the food and we keep fighting in the car, he keeps yelling, I'm crying and yelling back. In a fit of rage he tries to throw out the snack I bought him out the window. I stop crying when we get to his sister's house.

We open the food, see they forgot to pack an item, and I immediately start sobbing. AND WE STILL GO TO HIS GRANDPARENT'S BIRTHDAY? AND I FORGIVE HIM IN THE SAME DAY????

That was the first and only time something like that happened in the past 5 years but I still immediately forgave him.

I have a problem with cleaning, where I just CAN NOT bring myself to do it, out of sight, out of mind, if I do not have a list I will get overwhelmed and not do it, but I have been getting better. he cleans the kitchen every day for an hour BUT 80% if those dishes are his. When he was gone for a week-long work trip thing, I ran the dishwasher maybe twice.

One night I didn't do any cleaning and he flipped out and threw my earrings down the hall. They didn't break (thank god) and he apologized once before back to being mad about the cleaning.

I just feel like I dealt with so much of his mental illness that I forget people do actually break up over that. The anxiety, depression, and intrusive thoughts occurred when I went home for Christmas (6 weeks away) and he basically isolated himself from everyone. I feel like I have done SO MUCH to support him.

At first when my prof who tells students not to go for a PhD in sociology told ME she sew the drive in me to get one, he was like "great lets go where is best for you while I focus on my career" (as he has a PhD), then its "A PhD can not happen for you now bc I have mine and I can't let it go cold" and then "I'll move anywhere for your masters" to "Please only apply to masters in Provence A" to now which is "Only the big city ones I will go to because I can't like in an isolated small town, and I actually just want to go home, ie back with my parents I do not want any of this."

he's mad because I diden't immensely pick the university in a big city. That I would consider one in a small city. Huge yelling fights about how I am selfish and thinking of me and not US as a couple. And now that I;m holding him back from any job with his PhD.

I tried to explain why I still want to think about small city uni bc they REALLY want me to attend, keep talking about my research interests, and I am FLATTERED. I think they're stupid at times but I AM FLATTERED. I told him, he was sad over that and understood then called me manuplitive for that.

When I'm mad, I'm mad and want nothing to do with a person. He is flip-flopping from saying "I love you, we're not going to break up." to "You're a self-obsessed monster and I have to lie to myself that I am happy in this city and lie to myself about how you act sometimes."

I asked if he still wanted me to kiss him when he went to work today, and he said yes, then after told me he was lying to himself and he did not want one but did not want me to be sad. Is if he did not call me a "shellfish bitch" this morning.

it's just SO hot and cold. Making me cry last night and once I'm in bed, telling me how he wished he could meet his grandfather and talk about politics. Took a (would be funny of not fighting) photo of me when I fell asleep mid duolingo last night and sent it to me.

He goes to Country C on Sunday night or Monday am for a trip he booked a while back. Maybe he'll just return to get his stuff.

What hurts most is he wants to keep our cat.

[pokeruns]

yellow p2 - baby steps

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You wake up in your room. Your hands are grabbing the SNES control. The console it’s connected to an old, cubic TV standing in the middle of the room. You must have fallen asleep while playing some video game. You try to restart it, just to see what had you so engrossed, but it’s not turning on. You realize there are no cables powering the TV. 

Odd.

You try it with the PC on the northwest corner, and it works. The screen shows you a text box prompting you to withdraw an item. You follow the instructions and suddenly you’ve got a small purple bottle in your hands. The surprise makes you drop it, but the glass is sturdy and it doesn’t break. The PC said it was a potion. When used from the Bag on a Pokémon, it heals it by  20 Health Points, the thought comes to you unbridled. You take it back and put it in said Bag.

You go downstairs. A woman is watching Stand By Me on the television. “Right. All boys leave home someday.” She says with sad eyes. “It said so on TV. Professor Oak, next door, is looking for you.”

This, you realize, is your mother. Of course she is, silly. She has always been your mother. You can’t quite remember the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror, but you must share a lot of physical traits. The dark hair, maybe? The face-shape? The eyes? There must be something.

Still, this is not the time for wondering. Your neighbor is looking for you. Professor Oak. You remember that name. An image flashes into your mind, of  white void and a man in a white lab coat, but it’s gone as fast as it came. Samuel Oak, the Pokemon Prof., is considered THE authority on Pokémon. He was the league Champion once. He's famous.

You go out looking for him, but when you reach the crossroads in the middle of Pallet Town (this is your hometown, you tell yourself, you don’t need to read the signs) you come to a stop. He’s not going to be in his lab, or even his house, isn’t it. You look towards the tall grass at the town’s entrance.

You go north. The patch of grass stares at you, daringly. This is it, you think. If you take one more step, it’ll be the farthest away from home you’ve ever been. But that makes no sense, does it? You must have crossed this threshold a thousand times. You take that step.

“Hey! Wait! Don’t go out!” A voice startles you. It comes from behind. You turn around and see an old man running towards you. “That was close! Wild Pokémon live in tall grass!”

As soon as he says this, the tall grass shakes and a creature jumps at the both of you. The man takes what you recognize to be a Poké Ball and throws it at the thing, an angry fat yellow rat. The animal disappears at the sound of a click, and the man bends down to take the ball.

“Whew… A Pokémon can appear anytime in tall grass. You need your own Pokémon for your protection. I know! Here, come with me!”

He runs off, and you’re still a little winded, so you instinctively follow him into the lab. This must be your neighbor. The place is interesting. There are shelves filled with documents and a few aides coming and going in no doubt important business. There’s a child waiting. This is BLUE, he's been your rival since you were a baby.

“Gramps! I’m fed up with waiting!”

“Hm? Blue? Why are you here already? I said for you to come in later… Ah, whatever! Just wait there.” This is my grandson… Erm, what is his name again? You blink and the memory is gone. “Look, YELLOW! Do you see that ball on the table? It's called a Poké Ball. It holds a Pokémon inside. You may have it! Go on, take it!”

“Hey!” Blue jumps. “Gramps! What about me?”

“Be patient, BLUE. I’ll give you one later.”

You obey and reach out to take the pokeball. You suddenly become giddy. Wow, isn’t this what every kid your age dreams about? Your very own pokémon! And raised by the world’s foremost expert in them! But as soon as your fingers touch it, something slams into you and pushes you to the wall.

“No way! YELLOW, I want this pokémon!”

You had wanted it too. You were confused and lost, but for a second you’d wanted that pokémon more than life itself. Your very first pokemon was supposed to be a lifelong companion, a true friend. Someone you could call your very own, that you could belong to. 

And now you have nothing.

“BLUE! What are you doing?”

“Gramps, I want this one!”

“But, I… Oh, all right then. That Pokémon is yours. I was going to give you one anyway… YELLOW, come over here.” You obey, but a foreboding sense of doom grows in the pit of your stomach. “YELLOW, this is the Pokémon I caught earlier. You can have it. I caught it in the wild and it's not tame yet.”

He gives you the ball he used earlier, and you, more the fool, take it. What were you supposed to do about it? A wild pokemon was better than none, wasn’t it? Even if it was a bloodthirsty and angry  thing. At the very least it had seemed strong, hadn’t it?

You pocket it in your belt, feeling a little bit out of depth, and you go away in silence. But then BLUE stops you and has the audacity to challenge you! The asshole.

He sends out an adorable puppy-looking pokemon, who really just seems happy to be there. You send out the yellow rat. It seems fierce, which is good, but it’s sending all its angry looks your way, which is not that good. You gulp and take a step back.

You’re new to this. Were you supposed to know how to win a pokemon battle? You barely know the basic rules. You must have heard about it, sometime. You are confused. You lose what little respect the beast must have left for you in your confusion. 

Before you have the chance to give it orders, dangerous sparkles come off its red cheeks and soon lightning comes out of it and strikes its opponent. It’s  an electric rat. Of course it would be an electric rat.

It shocks you, even more than the poor creature. On an emotional level only, thank God. The rat at least isn't still so furious that he would attack its master when he has another to air fry.

The puppy, ‘EEVEE’, your challenger calls it, seems unable to move much. You blink and the rat is sending another bolt without so much as a by-your-leave. He tries to move its tail to no avail. Another bolt. The air starts to smell of ozone. This one makes the EEVEE furious enough that he runs towards the rat and tackles it to the ground.

It only seems to make it even worse. On the next electric shock, EEVEE is again fully paralyzed, the poor sod. Another one and it faints. The aftershocks of the attack make it spasm like a just fished-out sardine.

“What? Unbelievable!” BLUE is furious, but it’s clear he’s shocked too. His eyes look misty. I might cry too, fuck. “I picked the wrong pokemon!”

You’re not even angry, even though he really stole it. He presses the button of his pokeball and EEVEE gets back inside. You do the same. The yellow rat looks at you with fiery eyes. He looks stronger, meaner. You try to not let it show that you’re scared.

He takes 175 pokedollars out of his front pocket and gives them to you. You blanch. Were you betting real money? Do you even have some?

“Okay!” He claps once after taking a deep breath. “I’ll make my pokemon fight  to toughen it up! YELLOW! Gramps! Smell you later!”

And then he runs away, like a coward.

“What?”

Prof. Oak seems as winded by his whirlwind of a grandson as you. But he doesn’t seem shocked by the battle, as the both of you were. He wasn’t scared earlier in the tall grass, either. He must have seen a thousand more like it, and even more violent.

You turn around to leave, but the pokeball in your hand suddenly shocks you and you have to let it go. Upon falling on the ground, it opens up and the angry fat yellow rat gets out of his prison. It smells like a coming storm.

”Would you look at that! It’s odd, but it appears that your PIKACHU dislikes Poké Balls.” PIKACHU, was it? You finally get a name for the thing. Prof. Oak seems enchanted. “You should just keep it with you. That should make it happy! You can talk to it and see how it feels about you.”

This man wants to kill you.

You look at the PIKACHU. It must know that you have no other option — if you were to catch it again it simply could release itself again, and maybe this time attack you for real — because it seems awfully calm, almost bored. 

You gulp. There’s no other way, is there? You could always leave the thing, the PIKACHU, you could go back home. You could spend the rest of your life trapped in this town —Pallet Town, wasn’t it?—, living a quiet life, a safe life. But that’s not really an option. 

You look at Prof. Oak’s laughing eyes and instantly now that you have no choice, not really. A world of dreams and adventures awaits out there, your very own pokemon legend. You were always going to go on this journey.

[bluebelly-sun-serpentine]

If I could give any advice to instructors not included above, as someone with a lot of experience in UX design (I got my BA in an unrelated field quite late as a result of long-term health issues), it would be this:

• if using Canvas or some other online platform to present class materials to students (even, say, Google Drive, or Box) do what you can to reduce friction and create a clear but simple structure for the class site with your syllabus in an easily accessible place (don't make them click through a bunch of stuff to find this). This means:

• class materials (files, attachments, links) students might frequently reference should be in an easily accessible place, not under several submenus/through several hyperlinks. This is the most important guiding principle, and should be how you design not just your canvas site but also each module. A lot of instructors have the tendency to copy their own byzantine file structure straight into Canvas/whatever, and that's bad for you and bad for your students, because you will constantly be fielding stupid questions from students who can't find that thing because you've put it in the place that makes sense for your brain, rather than in the place that requires the least thought and fewest clicks for the most people. I once had an anthro prof upload our class materials into google drive, with each photo for morph studies in its own separate folder, within a folder, within a folder, within a folder (this was some matryushka shit, it just kept going), so you had to click in and out for each one rather than being able to view the collection in totality or slide through the photos, and if you had to step away or you got signed out it would take you forever to find the right photo again. You cannot do this shit to your students. They will not look, they will email you. Just because I drove myself to insanity finding everything on my own doesn't mean a 19 year old with a tiktok addiction is going to have the same dogged patience.

• Do not upload a poorly scanned reading that students have to rotate because every third page or so is upside down or otherwise oriented incorrectly. Do not upload readings so poorly scanned they are illegible. Just because I reformatted your PDF doesn't mean a 19 year old who has no idea what a file system is will do it. Gen Z got very little computer training. It's not their fault, and it's probably not yours, and I am sorry, but you will have to adjust. Fortunately, adjusting will also make your work more accessible to disabled or chronically ill students who do not have time for your bullshit for genuine pain and exhaustion reasons. I know you are trying to reduce the cost of class materials for students, but don't be surprised when students struggle to get through readings they have to first manually reformat in, like, Acrobat or something.

• if you have some kind of overarching formal expectations for certain assignments (how you want them to take notes, what style guide you expect them to use, etc.) do not wait for them to ask you. Make this clear in the syllabus or a doc linked in the syllabus.

• please for the love of god, if you are writing documentation/rubrics for technical assignments (and this goes for GSIs/RAs/TAs, too) clearly state your goddamn deliverables. Don't say do this step and this step and this step and then forget to tell your students what they need to upload and then be shocked when they email you "hey, do you want us to turn in a screenshot, or do you need it in this format, or are you looking for the data in a spreadsheet." It's not going to be self-evident, because, in fact, your standards are not the same standard every other instructor has, so your students cannot assume you want the assignment submitted in a specific format if they haven't been told a) what they need to demonstrate they've learned/completed and b) in what format that needs to be uploaded. CLEARLY STATE YOUR DELIVERABLES AND DUE DATE. You know, like, you could even have a section at the beginning or end of your unnecessarily long-winded and poorly formatted doc headed DELIVERABLES and that alone would probably help a lot. I promise you, you will have less contempt for your students than you currently think they deserve.

I was not 18-23 while doing my undergrad, so I had some sense of what was stupid 18-23 year old bullshit and what was you guys doing your jobs really poorly. Your students are annoying most often because they are young people and young people are annoying to anyone not basking in the glow of great knees and new sex, not because they are dumber or even that much lazier than you were as a young person. I was concerned about their timidity and lack of engagement at times, but I was also not that surprised by it, because the quality of the education I received did not at all times inspire confidence.

A lot of "do better" tweaks to your pedagogy will save you time and heartache. Your students will take you more seriously. Your end of year reviews will go better. You'll have more time for research, or art, or cat pics (IN THE LONG RUN). Sometimes you may think you are saving yourself time by making a student do something you should have done yourself (like properly formatting your PDF or clarifying deliverables for an assignment). You are making, what, somewhere between twelve and 300 students complete a task that could have been completed once, by you? Every extra student that has to do that work for you is a student who can fuck it up or misunderstand and send you a pointless email as a result. Do the task once.

A lot of this stuff isn't, IMO, just a result of the "crisis of adjunction." Tenured and tenure-track professors couldn't even be bothered to properly plan their classes and provide syllabi in the the first week (let alone day) of classes at the "world class" institution I attended.

I think it absolutely does have a lot to do with apps like Canvas, which it seems like instructors aren't taught to use in effective and standardized ways (causing confusion for students on the front end, but also frustration for instructors on the backish-end) but honestly, I think it just has a lot to do with contempt for the student body and the amount of time most instructors are spending on discourse on twitter (or bluesky, or threads, or tumblr or whatever) vs, you know, actually planning your classes. I literally follow you all joking about how you're procrastinating on your syllabi and and class planning in favor of doomscrolling and cat pics. You cannot hide from me.

My favorite instructor was a boomer lecturer who had all his modules up day 1 of class, super clear syllabi (took several of his classes), and actual expectations for his students. He'd never completed his Phd but had been teaching most of his professional life and he really wanted to make sure his students internalized things – in stark contrast to a number of profs who used endless easy Canvas quizzes as a way to pass as many students as possible. He had frustrations with his students (I later read for him and he advised on an honors thesis, so we got close and I was privy to some of them) but never contempt. He cared about his subject area, cared what students thought about it, was interested in disagreement, and wanted to make sure we'd be set up to use newly acquired skills independently in the future.

My least favorite were a team of Gen X tenured professors co-teaching a class they'd clearly devised as a soap-box for some poorly explored ideas they hadn't bothered to properly workshop into an actual class. These dudes were full-on winging it the entire semester (they had no idea what the readings for a majority of the semester were going to be, and they had vaguely "planned" several intense multi-day field trips w/ van travel during a pandemic but didn't set anything up for them until days in advance). They clearly thought their students – who, while young and naive, approached the hastily scraped together readings and field days with a lot more critical thought than the profs clearly had – were beneath them. These two men were frequently dismissive, defensive, and blasé during discussion. They really thought they were going to blow our minds just bloviating without any prep. You cannot do this. I don't care if you have a PhD; you are not smart enough for this, and your students will know it. The class did not return in any subsequent semesters (they got nuked in their end-of-semester feedback forms), but I had other experiences like this with tenured profs, interestingly mostly with white Gen X men (although I'm not sure if that's indicative of a wider trend, it seemed notable to me at the time).

Sometimes college professors like to hop on my posts lamenting the sorry state of syllabi these days and joke about how they haven't thought that far ahead in the course themselves, or talk about how they struggle to complete a schedule for their students.

With all due respect, that's your job. If you can't do your job, you should have a different job. If you need help, ask your colleagues or your department chair or *someone* because I know that professors aren't given a hell of a lot of education on how to educate, so you probably *need* help.

But every single time I make one of those posts I get anywhere from ten to thirty messages, replies, reblogs, and asks say "oh man, that's exactly why I had to drop out of school; I couldn't keep up with the assignments because I didn't know when they were due until the week they were due."

I have been a college student in three separate decades, and "not having a schedule of assignments in the syllabus" is new to my experience. That shit didn't fly in the 2000s or 2010s and I think it likely has to do with professors being overly reliant on apps.

AT A MINIMUM your syllabus should have:

Contact information (including preferred method of contact) for the professor

Office Hours

Grading Policy

Assignment schedule.

Your assignment schedule doesn't necessarily need to have the exact page numbers of every reading or a full assignment sheet for each project, but it should have things like:

December 1st - Major Project 3 second draft due December 9th - Quiz 10 December 12th - Major Project 3 final draft due December 15th - Final Exam

If you end up presenting a more thorough schedule with readings and homework later, that is acceptable to present a week or two into the semester but it is absolutely insane to me that students these days don't know what homework they're going to have to get done over Thanksgiving break during the first couple weeks of class.

If I had three professors at once who didn't give me a schedule, how on earth would I know if I was going to have to read three chapters of a novel, take a midterm and turn in two stats homework assignments, and complete a history research paper the same week that I'm planning to travel to see family? If I'm aware of this from the beginning of the semester I can make sure not to pick up extra shifts, or I can plan to leave a day later to accommodate the midterm, or I can start working on the paper early to complete it before the due date but if I don't know what's going to be due when, I'm going to have a big problem.

If you don't give your students a schedule you are communicating that you don't care about their schedule, and that you think it's their responsibility to contort their life (and their job, and their other classes) around your class, and honestly my advice to students in that situation is "drop in the first week and pick up another class". That's actually part of why I recommend signing up for one more class than you can really manage - if you get a professor whose class looks like it's going to be a disaster because they don't have a schedule, you can bail before the withdrawal period and get a refund for the class.

I'm only in one class this semester but the professor's response has fully dropped me into "Fuck it, I guess I'll fail" mode and I don't even know if I can pull myself out of my current D grade because I don't know how many assignments we have left in the semester.

This is a shitty way to run a class. If you can't do better than this, you shouldn't be running a class.

[nickgerlich]

Can I Get A Like?

We live in a world of warnings and advisories. They are part of the daily landscape, product packaging, and perhaps even the cultural mindset. Heck, how else could you explain my fascination with the abundance of warning signs in London that I once set out to photograph as many unique ones as I could?

I wouldn’t call it a nanny state, but by jove, they sure had a lot of signs, often with detailed instructions for how to exit a building that is on fire. Here, I’ll help you. “Run Like Hell!”

Of course, we have them here as well, from cautionary highway signs alerting us to a downhill gradient, “Bridge May Ice In Winter,” and the like. We see it on every packaged food now, not just nutrition facts, but also the bold-faced Big 8 Allergens (milk, eggs, fish, shellfish, tree nuts, peanuts, wheat, and soybeans). Whether people actually read all this is debatable, but if you have allergies as well as dietary preferences, it behooves you to become familiar with them.

Office and factory workers are also familiar with all the chemical hazard warnings. Even we professors have to undergo bi-annual training on these, even though the most “dangerous” thing I ever have in a classroom is a crazy new idea. Sarcasm intended.

And then there are the warnings intended for the betterment of society. One could argue these are efforts in social engineering with hopes of modifying behaviors. I am thinking specifically about tobacco and alcohol products. While it might be hard to completely isolate the effects of a warning message, we must note that the incidence of smoking alone in the US has dropped from 42% in 1965, when warning messages first appeared on packages, to 11.5% in 2023. That’s good for all of us, bad for the tobacco industry.

As for alcohol, I don’t think we can be quite so giddy with excitement, because from 1989, when Alcohol Warning Labels first appeared, the percentage of adults who at least occasionally consume alcohol has remained steady between 56% and 67%. Of course, there are differences between alcohol and tobacco warnings, with the former advising against operating heavy machinery as well as pregnant women consuming it, versus tobacco products telling us we could get emphysema and so forth.

Apparently we listened to one, and not the other.

And now the Surgeon General is proposing warning labels for social media, in response to growing evidence that these sites can affect the mental health of young users. It would take congressional approval, but Dr. Vivek Murthy is serious about this matter. He points the finger squarely at social media for contributing to the mental health crisis among our nation’s youth.

Dr. Murthy, though, leans on the success of tobacco warnings, and contends having similar pop-up warnings on social media might steer young users away, or at least cause them to be more mindful of the risks. He concedes that such messages won’t necessarily make social media safe, but they will at least be part of a solution.

It is a foregone conclusion that social media have become a dominant force in society, particularly among young users. And, as Murthy argues, they are addictive. The dopamine drip caused by social affirmations in the forms of Likes, Hearts, Comments, Shares, and the like make us feel good, regardless of age. It’s just that among users, things can spin out of control because getting those affirmations—or not—can have a far greater impact on mental health.

Implementing these warnings is a whole different proposition, though. When would they appear? Would they simply be ignored? And can we please opt-out of them as otherwise sane adults?

Never mind the fact that it is virtually impossible to age-gate social media. True confession: I, the prof who teaches Digital Marketing at both the graduate and undergraduate levels, signed up my daughters for social media accounts before they reached the so-called minimum age, which is 13. Until they ask for photo IDs, birth certificates, passports, etc., it’s going to be tough to ever keep our youth from these services. And my kids turned out just fine. The both have nice jobs in digital marketing.

The apples did not fall far from the tree.

I think that Dr. Murthy means well. It’s just that, aside from the apparent effectiveness of tobacco warnings, they have not done quite as well as we would hope. About 72% of Americans are obese or morbidly obese, in spite of all those nutrition facts on the label. I doubt warnings on social media will help our kids dodge the bullets of shaming, bullying, and low self-esteem, short of simply not buying them smartphones, tablets, and computers. Now there’s an idea.

Furthermore, you can bet your last Instagram follower that the tech companies will put up a fight, because it could affect their ad revenues, hence profitability. They aren’t going to roll over and just let Dr. Murthy stick a fork in them.

And you can Like, Heart, Comment, and Share on that all you like.

Dr “Keep The Dopamine Dripping” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[cheemken]

Some more villain au thoughts while I'm listening to Iris' Champion theme

Yknow imagine if she got that pissed at Hilda for taking Bianca away from her, that Iris actually used the Splicers to fuse Zekrom and Kyurem. Hilda took a lot of things from her now, it's only fair I get to take something from her too.

And ofc, Kyurem was the one in control while being fused, so it didn't listen to Hilda and Cheren's commands, it only listened to Iris. And Iris is there looking at Hilda w that grin on her face, B. Kyurem at her side, going on how if she won't give Bianca back to her, she'll kill her and Hilbert on the spot

Imagine Hilda almost taking that risk tho, maybe she can plan a quick distraction so they can safely get away from Iris and off the frigate. But Bianca walked past the twins, and Hilda grabbed her wrist, terrified, knowing too well what Bianca is abt to do. Her eyes were pleading her to not go, to just stay w her, they can find a way out of this. But they also know they can't. Iris was smart, she was strategic, she knows how to counter their attacks.

So Bianca gave her a sad smile, telling her to let go, she can handle it. Hilda let out a choked sob, finally letting go of her. Turning to Iris, her smile almost faltered, but she stood her ground, walking towards her, stopping midway as she opened her arms, waiting for Iris. Ofc, Iris was ecstatic, she ran to Bianca, wrapping her arms tight around her, lifting her off the ground as the spun around, Iris was so happy to have her queen back to her.

God the devotion in her eyes, Iris was so gentle w her, so soft, so caring. She leaned in kissing Bianca again. Bianca didn't like the taste of blood. She hated it. Hated it. She fucking hated it. But she endured. She has to. When Iris pulled away, she gave her a toothy grin, telling Bianca how happy she was to have her in her arms again. Seeing the blood on Bianca's lips, Iris apologized, taking off the gloves off her as she wiped the blood off Bianca's face. But the pkmn prof almost didn't care abt that, her hands were on Iris' shoulder, giving them a squeeze as she spoke.

"I'll.. I'll stay with you, just promise me this one thing, okay?"

Iris was so eager, ofc she was, Bianca will stay w her. "Anything for you."

"don't hurt our friends. Don't hurt anyone anymore, please, Iris."

Iris blanched for a sec, before her face morphed into anger. "They hurt us first, Bianca!"

"just ignore them!"

"I'm done ignoring them, I'm done being the only one getting hurt. Don't you see? I'm doing this for you, for Kyurem, for myself. We've been through hell and for what? For what, Bianca?!"

"Iris, please! Please just... Just let Hilbert and Hilda go, please. Do it for me.."

"...fine."

With a shaky breath, Bianca added, "release Zekrom too, Iris."

Iris held her closer, growling, "no."

"Iris—"

"it's only fair. Hilda took a lot of things from me. It's only fair. It's only fair I get to take something of hers too." She was glaring at Hilda, crimson eyes flaring. To Hilda, she goes "leave. If you won't then I'll let your precious Zekrom watch as I let Kyurem kill you."

As much as Hilbert wanted to attack, he also knew it was risky, as Iris still had the Splicers. He looked at his twin, she was trembling. In rage? In fear? Both? He wasn't sure anymore, but they can't take any more risks. They've already risked too much. If this was Iris' way of showing mercy, so be it. Tugging Hilda's hand, he guided her towards Reshiram, leaving the frigate, watching as Bianca and Zekrom become much smaller and more distant the further away they were. Once they were reunited with the League and the other Champions, Hilda broke, sobbing her heart out. Feeling the hopelessness Iris once felt.

[avatar-anna]

Oooh some drama about some ex’s or maybe even more about the DWD drama ??

But i need prof y/n to give Harry a telling off or something!

The Professor Series

"Who do you think you are?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," you said, not backing down. "Who do you think you are? You can't just talk to people like that. It's rude and disrespectful."

All night you'd heard this woman—Harry's ex apparently—claim how different and nerdy and "uncool" she was, how she was more down to earth than other celebrities. In your humble opinion, if you had to consistently remind someone of a personality trait you thought you had, then you probably didn't have it.

But that wasn't why you called this woman out. She'd annoyed you to no end, but you weren't really the confrontational type, so you kept your thoughts to yourself and quietly picked at your plate at this fancy dinner Harry wanted you to join him at. But when a server came by and accidentally bumped into her, she snapped at her, then openly laughed and mocked her, within earshot of the server.

You thought someone would say something, you thought someone would stand up for the person who had been nothing but kind and accommodating all night, yet no one did. Not even Harry, who was so caught up in a conversation with the person on his other side that he didn't even notice the incident. So you pushed your nerves aside and stepped up. You didn't care about who these people were or what their cultural relevance was. No one deserved to be treated that way.

The young woman tilted her head, considering you. Her glossy brown hair shifted around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, and you are?"

Smiling to yourself, you said, "And now you're trying to do the same to me and distracting people from my criticism of your character. Why can't you just own up to the fact that you have no sense of politeness or etiquette?"

Now the dinner table you were at was completely silent, as was the rest of the restaurant. You didn't really know who this woman was, as she never introduced herself to you, but she must've been someone important because people at the other dinner tables were openly staring.

Though just because you didn't know who she was, that didn't mean you couldn't draw conclusions about her. She was born into money, her behavior alone screamed entitlement, and that she was used to a specific lifestyle. She needed people to believe in the narrative that she was down to earth and "normal," despite her clear lack of touch with reality. And she was still into your boyfriend. She probably thought her flirty glances went unnoticed by everyone at the table, but you didn't miss a single one.

"Darling, maybe you—"

You cut a glare at Harry, and he immediately backed down. He'd never seen you angry before, and now that he had, he knew it was serious.

"I don't know who you are, or how you contribute to society, but quite frankly, I don't care," you said, standing up from the table. "I've seen enough, and I'm not interested in seeing more."

You didn't wait for Harry, you were a little pissed at him too, especially when you overheard him apologizing for your outburst.

"What a bitch," you heard the woman mutter, which made you turn back and tell her what she could do with her poor vocabulary, but Harry was right behind you, his hand on your arm and ushering you out of the restaurant.

“Keep walking,” he mumbled under his breath, having noticed that people at the other tables had their phones out, recording the whole thing.

His words only infuriated you even more, but you followed anyway, not wanting to waste another minute on that rich, entitled woman.

You and Harry waited for the valet to bring up his car in silence. Once you were out of the restaurant, you shrugged out of his grip and stood a few feet away from him, your anger making it impossible to look at him at the moment.

You hated feeling like this, even more so because no one seemed to take your side. Even if you didn’t come from less than humble beginnings, you would never be so full of yourself to treat people like gum on your shoe. Celebrity culture was toxic, which was why you didn’t take part in it much, Harry being the exception. No one had any right to believing that their monetary status made them better than others.

It was nights like these that made you think Karl Marx had some very good points.

The car finally came around, and Harry went to go tip the valet. You stayed put, not ready to be in a confined space with him.

“Darling?”

He sounded confused, like he couldn't understand why you wouldn't get in the car with him. Did he not realize you were upset with him too?

“I’m walking home,” you blurted, then did exactly that.

Harry protested, but you ignored him, needing space to align your thoughts. That was something you hated about being angry, your thoughts jumbled up like alphabet soup in your brain.

You had maybe a minute of peace before you heard the low hum if Harry’s car pull up next to you. The sight of it made your dinner curdle in your stomach, a reminder that while he didn’t act like his ex, he was very much a part of that life.

Harry dated that woman. He must've known what she was like, how she treated those who she considered beneath her. How could he be with someone like that?

“Love, please get in the car,” Harry said after rolling the passenger window down.

“I said I was going to walk.“

“Y/n, the house is ten miles away.”

“Then I’ll call a Lyft.”

“You’re really that angry with—”

“Yes! I’m that angry with you,” you said, coming to a stop. “Because instead of sticking up for me, instead of being on my side, you apologized for me, like I was in the wrong.”

An angry tear rolled down your cheek, and you hastily brushed it away. Harry saw it, though, you could see his frown in the harsh glow of the street lamp.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t even notice what was happening until—”

“Until I said something. Do you realize how terrible that is? You—You people are so absorbed in your own lives that you don’t even notice people who you don't seem worthy of your time and space!”

Harry was a good person, you knew that. And he wasn’t at all like his ex. But something about tonight struck a chord with you, made warning bells flash in your head, and you hated that. Because at the end of the day, he didn’t notice how the server was being treated. Why would he? It was of no consequence to him.

Your words affected him, you could see the pain written across his face. No one liked being called out on their flaws, but you loved Harry enough to make him see and understand rather than just give up altogether.

All Harry could think was, am I really that shallow?

“Do you really think I’m like that?” he asked, bracing himself for your blunt response. But he wouldn't have asked if he didn't want to hear what you had to say.

“I think you're a kind and caring person, H,” you said, coming closer to the car. “But I think like any person who becomes famous, you've become accustomed to a certain way of living. You're down to earth, but only as much as you can be.”

Harry didn't say anything for a while, letting your words sink in. You were very observant, and typically correct when it came to analyzing people, a perk of your profession. So to hear that you did think he was shallow to an extent hurt.

“Thank you for being honest,” he finally managed to say.

“You’re welcome,” you said. You needed to say it, and he needed to hear it, but seeing Harry’s head bent with shame wasn't enjoyable for you. This wasn't an argument won by any means. So, stepping closer to the car, you said gently, “But that doesn't mean I think you're a bad person, or that I think you can't change.”

Harry raised his head. He still looked dejected, but there was hope there too. Part of him had worried that this was the end, and that would've thoroughly destroyed him.

“I’m sorry. About all of it.”

Your anger having fizzled out, you opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat, hugging Harry close to your chest when you finally settled.

“I know,” you told him. “And that’s why you’re already better than those people back there. You can acknowledge when you've made mistakes.”

The next few weeks were hectic. Something called a deuxmois recalled the dinner on social media, and everyone was taking sides. Your life didn't change much, as you hardly went on applications that talked about celebrity gossip, but the buzz was becoming hard to ignore, especially when Harry’s manager kept saying things like “PR nightmare” and “damage control.”

And then Harry's ex was on some daytime talk show giving her side of the story. According to her, everything was blown way out of proportion, there was no argument, and people just liked to make up stories about her and her family.

Hearing that upset you, but not much. You knew the truth, Harry knew the truth, and that was all that mattered to you. And you told Harry just that.

Harry was glad that you weren't phased, or that you weren't one for social media interaction. He'd seen some of the things people said after hearing his ex’s side of the story, and they weren't kind. His policy about drama was to keep his mouth shut because no one really needed to know the ins and outs of his everyday life, but the urge to defend you was nearly impossible to ignore.

It didn't have to come to that, though, because a couple days later, the server who waited your table that night released a video explaining the whole thing. How rude Harry’s ex has been to her, how you had tried to stick up for her, how his ex wasn't the least bit remorseful about her behavior.

“I don't know why we're always so quick to believe celebrities. It was so clear to me in that interview that she was trying to save face, but I'm not going to let her drag someone so kind as Y/n through the mud.”

Those few weeks were madness, and a real taste of what Harry dealt with regularly. You could sense his frustration about everything that was transpiring online, but you reassured him you were fine.

“Still love me?“ he asked one night. You were in bed reading together. The Emperor was dozing at the end of your bed and Faye Winter was curled into the crook of Harry's neck. She quite liked Harry, and was always slipping between his ankles and meowing until he picked her up.

You and Harry had been pretty good about keeping your relationship private, even though it was common knowledge. He just didn’t want this, and everything that had transpired at that restaurant, to be the reason you left. It couldn't be. He was too in love with you, too in love with the life you shared with him to even fathom you breaking up, but it almost always felt like a possibility in the back of his mind.

Over the years, Harry had found it difficult to find people willing to put up with everything that came with being his partner. So many break ups had been the result of a constant barrage of vitriol on the Internet, and while he understood why, he’d started to think that he would always be lonely. Before you, he felt that breakups were inevitable, and for a moment that night, he could see it, the end nearing, and he would only have himself to blame.

Looking over at Harry, your fingers lightly traced the planes of his face. “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.”

He smiled, recognizing the line from Hamlet. You'd read it together last week. “Can I have another?”

“You are the friend to whom my soul is attached as to its better half. You are dearer to me than language has the power of telling,” you said, the book you were reading all but forgotten as you slid your leg between his, your hand spreading across his torso.

“Another?” Harry said again, warmth spreading to his cheeks and chest as you began to kiss him all over. There were times where he feared that loving him wouldn't be enough to make you stay with him, but you always did.

“I’ve never had a moment’s doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life.”

That one made Harry shudder as you kissed the words into his skin. His neck, his jaw, his collar bones. Each spot your lips grazed blazed and left him breathless.

“If I know what love is, it is because of you,“ you whispered, looking him in the eye.

That night, you loved on Harry like you never had before. He was always the one in charge of things, but you wanted this, needed it. He wasn't perfect, and neither were you, but with him you felt perfect, and you wanted him to feel perfect too. But you were so bad with words sometimes that you needed the help of all books stored in your memory to express how you felt.

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. You are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel.”

You continued to whisper words of love until he fell asleep, your fingers combing through the sweaty strands of his hair, every word you spoke truer than the last.

Harry was...a complex individual. He was a little self-absorbed the way that famous people tended to be, but he was more than that. He was generous, and kind to his fans; he was patient with you and listened to every word you said like he couldn't wait to hear what you would say next; he was charming and beautiful and gentle; he had the biggest capacity to love, and a willingness to listen when he was in the wrong.

Harry was human, plain and simple. So while he messed up from time to time, you knew that loving him would always be the most unexpected stroke of luck. You weren't going to let that go, not for someone as inconsequential as a rich, bitter ex.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

RESTORATION AND 18TH CENTURY LIT. - COLLEGE AU!TOMURA X READER

✧ pairing: college student!shigaraki x fem!reader | a little bit of shigadabi

✧ word count: 21.3k  | AO3 Mirror

✧ warnings: Shigaraki being an asshole, lowkey kinda hates women, fem reader only because he refers to her as female (derogatory) like once gender neutral pronouns for reader though the few times its used, Angst and Fluff and Smut Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, college au no quirks, dabi is a little shit, dirty talk, swearing, like so much, vaginal se, vaginal fingering, oral sex, virgin shigaraki, loss of virginity degradation, mentions of lactation kink, brief exhibitionism

✧ summary: He’d never sat this close to you before, but that didn’t stop you from annoying the shit out of him for the previous whole half semester and going since it was just now passing midterms. Long enough for him to have pegged you as a textbook try-hard, pick-me bitch.And now you were filling his corner of the room with the overpowering smell of freshly washed hair and demanding he do things for you. Fucking disgusting.

Or Tomura get's paired up with you for a big final project in some bullshit English class he needs to graduate and quickly discovers that he even though he kinda hates women, he hates you a little bit less. And also really wants to stick his dick in you.

✧ a/n: First off yes this is a repost. Second: Happy birthday to the best boy and happy birthday to this fic (and also this blog)! In celebration of all the occasions and because I didn’t have time for anything else, I’ve compiled the entire R18CL main series here in one place. It was the first real shigs fic I’ve written and still one of my favorite pieces I’ve ever done. I think you can tell how much my writing has improved just in this year from reading this, but I love it how it is, so enjoy~ And finally, it goes without saying, don’t fucking rec this anywhere else.

The door at the back of the room creaked open and jarred Tomura from his half-sleep state. He didn’t look at who’d bothered to slip into this fucking class late, and instead tried to let the prof’s inane droning on Timothy Whoever The Fuck’s 18th weirdo letter book lull him into day dreaming. 

He only made it about a quarter of the way back into his boredom induced coma until he was dragged unwillingly into wakefulness once more. 

“Sorry, could you plug this in for me?” 

Tomura jumped again when you leaned over to whisper to him, computer charger in one hand, gesturing to the outlet on the wall by his head. You’d left the typical courtesy seat empty between the two of you and he stared blankly at the way you leaned your weight on the vacant chair. 

He recognized you.

The classic, dumbass teacher's pet who was always front and center of the room, iced drink at the ready looking like you belonged on the set of some god awful college b movie. 

Well, almost always. You certainly had that loud ass drink, but you’d tucked yourself at the end of his row towards the back of the room and was clearly a bit embarrassed for bursting in almost 15 minutes late. 

Tomura swallowed hard as your shirt gaped in the front. It took an immense amount of control to not gaze outright into the swell of your chest. 

“You good?” you asked softly, head cocked like you were straight out of a fucking manga panel—tits on display with that stupid innocent, puzzled expression.  

“Uh yeah, sorry,” Tomura mumbled. 

You offered him this gross, clearly fake smile—because why the hell would you be grinning like that if it wasn’t just because you wanted something from him—as he threaded the cord behind his chair and plugged it in. 

“Thanks,” you replied and turned back towards the professor, typing away cause you actually take notes in this class. 

Of fucking course you did. 

Probably trying to impress everyone with how you typed practically every word the prof said. Tomura decidedly did not take notes, and didn’t really pay that much attention in general. Usually he just played some trashy phone game under the desk or dozed with his head against the cement wall. 

It had gotten to that portion of the semester when it was warmer outside but the buildings still had the heat cranked all the way up, especially here in the basement where the classroom was. That environment along with his usual hoodie/joggers combo created grade A napping conditions that Tomura took full advantage of. 

As a rule, he actually cared about school and he did relatively well. But this was just some dumbass liberal arts requirement course that had nothing to do with his actual major, so he was perfectly fine with coasting. Why his comp sci degree required him to take a fucking Restoration era English class, he had no clue. Apparently neither did his advisor other than that the ‘administration recommended it’ so their students would have a ‘well rounded learning experience.’ 

It was almost certainly just a cash grab to make him take more credits than was necessary to graduate, but whatever. He was here now. And so were you. Your presence was overwhelmingly clear, typing away and smelling like one of those insanely specific laundry detergent label scents—fucking rolling meadows and grandmother’s clean linen or something like that. 

He’d never sat this close to you before, but that didn’t stop you from annoying the shit out of him for the previous whole half semester and going since it was just now passing midterms. Long enough for him to have pegged you as a textbook try-hard, pick-me bitch. You contributed to discussion at every opportunity, turned in shit early, and debated other classmates regularly enough to disrupt his in-course sleep schedule. 

The way you dressed pissed him off too, with a particular style that was enough to stand out but not so over the top that it would cause disinterest from any potential mates. 

And now you were filling his corner of the room with the overpowering smell of freshly washed hair and demanding he do things for you. 

Fucking disgusting. 

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

He jumped a third time, attention directed from his lap to the front of the room where the prof stood, listing out names from the board. He heard your name next followed by Kai Chisaki. The list was projected on the board as well, grouping everyone into twos or threes with “Final Project Partners” listed in bold Helvetica font at the top. 

Only fucking English profs used Helvetica. 

He vaguely remembered mentions of a final presentation—one of like three grades in this class cause the prof was almost certainly a sadist. 

No, not almost—definitely. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stuck him with you and that weirdo Kai pre-med student who insisted on acting so elitist you’d think he already had his fucking M.D. 

One time he asked Tomura to move seats at the start of the semester because he looked “dirty” and Kai liked to sit in the back—which, fair enough, it wasn’t like Tomura showered as frequently as he probably should but what the fuck??  

With you rushing in late, chest out and panting every now and again from your apparent sprint across campus, Tomura was certain he’d be subjected to a whole 6 weeks of watching you try to mount that fucking Kai dude instead of actually working. 

This was going to be a nightmare. 

From the end of the table, he saw you shifting and turned to find that stupid fucking smile flashed his way once again. 

If you had a tail, he’d bet it would be wagging. 

“Hey, well that’s convenient,” you chuckled and plopped down directly next to him, sliding your noisy ass drink across the table with you and brushing against his thigh when you shifted your bag to the side. 

“Yeah,” he nodded.

It most certainly was not. 

But Tomura would never say that because—as his roommate put it so kindly—he was kinda a pussy. 

People made him nervous, they always had. That’s why he liked computers so much. Code made sense, there were clear rules and when something didn’t work out, he could fix it eventually, but you couldn’t see people’s codes. You had to fucking guess at shit and it made his anxiety skyrocket which the sides of his neck and finger tips suffered for. 

So he cowered like the fucking dog you probably thought he was instead and kept his eyes on the floor, letting you set up in silence. 

“Who was our third?” you asked, glancing around the room. “Sorry, I was busy making a shared drive and I came in  late so I missed that last bit.”

Why the hell did you feel the need to apologize all the goddamn time? Seriously, who would believe you were actually sorry for being irritating as hell. 

And god if he thought you were irritating. 

“Kai,” he grumbled simply as the man in question sauntered over to the table and fucking clorox wiped down the seat before sitting. 

Tomura watched your smile falter just a bit and grinned inwardly at the slip in your fake little persona. But you didn’t say anything more, just moved your chair back so the three of you were in a semi-circle and pulled up a few pdfs on your laptop. 

“Cool, so I was looking over the directions on the syllabus last week and I set up a little work delegation thing so we can distribute everything pretty evenly,” you jumped right in, tone matter of fact in the down-to-business manner he was used to hearing from you during class discussions. 

It was better than you so clearly forcing yourself to be overly polite, and he honestly couldn’t really care less if you wanted to take charge of this thing. You seemed kinda bossy, but he begrudgingly admitted that your suck up behavior did mean you sort of knew what you were talking about. He was just here to pass and you might actually make that a lot easier. 

It was okay as long as he was taking advantage of you, he told himself. And you would be too stupid to notice, so he could play your game and play pretend nice all the way to an A. 

That walking condescension on the other hand— 

“I’m not doing that,” Kai huffed through his ever-present mask. 

Tomura wasn’t actually sure he’d ever seen the bastards face without it. 

“What?” you laughed awkwardly. “Yes you are, you don’t really have much of a choice.” 

You stared at your classmate who simply stared right back with his own, equally confused expression. 

“Why do you look so surprised?” you asked after a moment of silence. 

You weren’t smiling anymore and your voice had dropped down about a fucking octave. At least you sounded more like a person and not some wannabe uwu gamer bitch.

“People don’t talk to me like that,” Kai looked at you down his nose, legs spread wide and elbow resting on his knees. 

Tomura could feel the pretentiousness wafting from him in waves, and waited with baited breath for you to get kicked off your pedestal. Just a bit though, he did need you around to do most of his work for this thing. 

But in a shocking turn of events, you just laughed dryly twice and turned back to your laptop screen, mumbling as you did. 

“Really? Well they should.” 

Tomura would have laughed too, but he didn’t feel like inflating your ego. Kai on the other hand looked a bit like you’d just spit on shoes and furrowed those stupid, plucked thin eyebrows at the back of your head. 

“So Tomura, you code right?” you asked, turning away from Kai completely to address him. “I just remember you saying you were in comp sci when we did introductions.” 

He was taken aback by the knowledge that he existed as a person in your head outside of this room for a moment and simply nodded—suddenly feeling far too hot in his black on black sweats and hoodie. 

God just talking to you made his skin burn. 

“Great, cause we’re allowed to chose the medium we present in and I was thinking of taking it in a more creative direction cause I’ve had this prof before and he eats that shit up,” you begin to ramble again, scrolling through a bulleted list, shifting the screen for him to see. 

“Right,” he murmured, still surprised you’d thought this far and not...actively hating what you’d brainstormed. 

Well, it was a bit juvenile and you clearly didn’t know what you were talking about but the concept wasn’t horrendous. He could work with that and it shouldn’t be too hard. It kinda seemed like you’d overestimated a bit with how challenging it would actually be and saddled yourself with most of the heavy lifting. That or you were just a control freak which was a little more believable. 

He wished you would stop looking at him over the edge of the screen. He could feel himself starting to sweat. Rivulets falling down the nape of his neck and racing across his bare chest under the sweatshirt. Tomura sorta regretted not wearing a shirt underneath but he knew that he wouldn’t have taken off the insulating layer even if that had been an option. 

It would just mean you had more drying, pale as fuck skin to look at and judge him for because he knew that’s what you were doing. Fucking vapid and shallow like everyone else. 

“It’s really rough so far, but I have it the gist outlined,” you indicated to another tab and then turned back to Kai who had been sitting silently glaring daggers into your back. “So, Kai, since you’re in STEM I figured you’d be okay with doing more of the preliminary research—”

“I don’t think so,” Kai interrupted, shaking his head and pushing off his knees to lean back in the cheap, plastic seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for all of us if you two just make it look pretty and I can handle the oral presentation.” 

You gaped and looked to Tomura with this pathetic fucking incredulous stare, like you thought he’d back you up. 

Which actually, now that he thought about it was probably a good idea—he did need you to remain somewhat cordial with him—but he certainly didn’t care enough to defend you in any way. Kai was a dick, sure, but he wasn’t gonna let you rope him into being your white knight or whatever. 

He settled for a similarly disgruntled downward twitch of his lips. The movement pulled at the cracking skin which stung as it tore open even more. Tomura felt the familiar crawling feeling on his neck and shifted in his seat to resist the urge to scratch. 

He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly you staring at him was so uncomfortable. He didn’t like you, he didn’t care about you and by extension didn’t give two shits what you thought of him, but anything he might have said shriveled on his tongue when you spoke or looked in his eyes too long. 

Tomura had never made a habit of talking to females and they certainly had never wanted anything to do with him either. 

Maybe he was fucking allergic or something. 

Whatever the case, you seemed to take his half frown as a sign of solidarity and leaned back in your own seat. 

“Okay, look,” you retorted. “If you’re seriously not gonna at least try to cooperate, then there is actually an option to do the project by yourself and I suggest you take it.” 

The look on your face was distinctly impolite. There was a sharpness to the set of your jaw that Tomura had never seen before, but it looked practiced enough that he could bet it was simply the snake that resided in every woman just waiting to come out. 

“Look sweetheart—” that masked jerk began, also for some fucking reason looking to Tomura for support. 

For someone who was very much used to blending into the background scenery, this was the most eye contact Tomura had ever made in a day. 

Except on the rare occasions his roommate had friends over and he had to make the dreaded trek from his room to reach the fridge. 

“Oh yeah I’m not doing that,” you closed your laptop sharply and rolled your eyes. “I get it, but I’m really just trying to graduate. I don’t think this is going to work out and you,” Tomura froze as you shifted your gaze to him once again, “seem okay, so Tomura and I can just work this out by ourselves and you can find a different group.” 

Kai scoffed behind the black layer of fabric covering his mouth and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Whatever.” 

Tomura watched him saunter straight out the door as the room was filled with the shuffling of notebooks and zipping of backpacks. 

“God,” you huffed and turned back to him. 

His raw skin burned under the new wave of heat and accompanying moisture that slicked his skin when you scooted closer to him. That clean laundry and shampoo smell was suffocating from this proximity. 

Did you fucking bathe in the stuff? 

He was becoming increasingly aware of his less than pleasant aroma and the fact that you not scrunching your nose up in disgust just out of some stupid, ingrained need to appease him. 

“Well, that was...weird,” you chuckled in a way that was probably meant to break the tension. 

Unfortunately Tomura felt more like he was about to break out in hives if you came any closer so it really just ended up making the atmosphere ten times more awkward. At least for him. You, somehow, remained resolutely unaware. 

“Mhm,” he hummed in response and picked silently at the skin of his fingers. 

“Anyway, I have a meeting in a few but we can trade numbers and pick a time to meet up sometime tomorrow maybe?” you suggested, quickly saving the steadily degrading vibes of the conversation and pulled out your phone. 

He really hated the full body pulsation that rushed through him at the thought of getting a girls number. It made him fucking sick at himself for falling into your stupid trap to get him interested. Was your plan to just use him to get a good grade or whatever and then block his texts?

It wasn’t like Tomura didn’t know about his status as the class ‘freak.’ That one guy everyone whispers about and makes sure not to sit next to. And he knows you know, so why the hell else would you act so nice?

He wanted to say something scathing in return. That he could do the whole thing by himself too—which he definitely couldn’t but that was irrelevant—and that he didn’t need you bossing him around either. 

“Sure thing,” he said instead and took your offered phone all too eagerly, typing in his number and watching as you shot off a text back so he’d have yours. 

His phone buzzed against his thigh and he jumped a fourth time, but you seemed not to notice as you packed your bag and grabbed your basic ass drink. The ice clattered against the tumbler, dropping cool condensation against the searing skin of his hand. 

Tomura shivered as you waved over your shoulder and slipped out the door with another rush of students. 

He sat silently in the empty room for a moment, trying to process the last hour. He pinched himself idly, wondering if it had all been just a weird dream, but the results were inconclusive. A minute or two passed before he pulled out his phone to scroll through the list of reddit and discord notifs to find your text. 

Sent at 2:47 pm:

— pEopLe DoN’t TaLK tO mE liKE ThAt 

— not very plus ultra of him...smh

— anyway, library at 6 tomorrow ?

Tomura caved, digging his nails into the side of his neck and hissed at the pain, confirming the day's horrible reality. 

---

Tomura hadn’t stopped staring at his phone since he left the apartment. It was second nature by now—head down at a nearly ninety degree angle, hoodie pulled up to hide hair he hadn’t bothered to comb in weeks, and phone out, held just far enough away that he could see the pavement behind the screen. 

He’d found that people tended to naturally avoid him this way and he didn’t have to risk accidentally making eye contact. It was still a bit nerve wracking to venture into buildings he didn’t expressly have to for classes, so he was still hesitant to make the voyage from his apartment to the library.  But he’d made the mistake of mentioning plans to his roommate and the bastard wouldn’t leave him alone about it afterwards until he was practically shoved out with the door locked behind him. 

He was half tempted to make up some excuse last minute and go hide out at the only cafe on campus he could tolerate, but Tomura knew he was just delaying the inevitable. Biting the bullet now would help to not prolong his suffering. 

Your text thread glared up at him in stark white on blue as he pushed past a crowd of students by the library entrance and flashed his ID to the attendant. 

Group Project Bitch:

— hey I got us a room on the third floor, all the way in the back

—text me when you’re here I’ll wave you in, it’s kinda hard to find T-T

sounds good— 

He shot off a quick text to you that he was hoping on the elevator. The other two guys in the lift may have given him a dirty look for only going up to the third floor, but Tomura sure as hell wasn’t going to risk the physical exertion of stares when just the thought being stuck in a small room alone with you for god knows how long already had him sweating. 

When he stepped out, you were leaned against one of the 90s-green shelves, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. He panicked momentarily, thinking he’d have to get your attention cause just walking up without saying anything would be weird right? 

He wasn’t sure. 

He didn’t do shit like this. 

Thankfully, you looked up at the chime of the lift and waved him over. His red sneakers squeaked as they scuffed the linoleum floors and he already regretted choosing his tighter fitting pair of sweats. The tapered legs that hugged his ankles and thin calves rubbed against his skin and stung the raw patches. 

“Hey, thanks for coming,” you said softly and he nodded, following as you began to weave through the stacks. “Sorry it was short notice, graduation’s coming up so I'm swamped with meetings.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t have anything going on.” 

He cringed internally at the way his voice cracked, trying to keep the usual rasp to a minimum. His roommate said it was from the innumerable hours he spent shouting at his monitor or on discord, which was probably true but to you he was sure he just sounded like a fucking teenager. 

“Cool, I’ve been set up for awhile so feel free to move some stuff,” you talked a bit louder now that you’d both stepped into the study room and shut the door. 

Tomura looked around. You’d snagged one of the nicer ones at least, with the big monitors he could cast his screen onto and those comfy chairs he liked but could never beat anyone too on the lower floors. 

You were right, there was shit all over the big table at the center of the room. Notes and printed out readings with highlights galore and sticky notes littering the pages were scattered all over. What a show off. You probably tossed all this stuff out so he’d think you were actually intelligent or some shit. 

Kicking a pile off of the nearest plush armchair, Tomura took a seat and pulled his laptop out. There was a jack in the middle of the table and you plugged yours in to cast onto the big monitor. 

You made a fucking power point for him. 

This couldn’t be real. 

“So I know I ran some stuff by you in class but essentially I was thinking we make like a simple Twine type thing using the rhetorical argument Swift is making…” 

You started rambling again and Tomura almost immediately tuned you out. His eyes drifted between the rough outline you were flicking through on the board and the laptop you had your nose buried in. 

It was covered in stickers, pretty obviously stereotypical for someone as obsessed with being ‘cool’ as you clearly were. But as he scanned through the various old meme phrases and aesthetic shit, he caught a couple of game references he recognized and a panel cutout from one of his favorite manga. 

He almost fell into your trap for a moment, feeling a rush at the prospect of someone—much less a chick—being into his main hyperfixations. 

But it was quickly crushed under everything his years trolling subreddits had taught him. People like you didn’t actually have interests beyond the attention and dick it got them. Plus that manga was pretty popular anyway, you probably didn’t even read it, just thought the line was funny or made you sound quirky. That had to be why you felt the need to drop it in your first texts. 

“What do you think?” you asked, making good on your new habit of startling the hell out of him. 

Tomura blinked, gaze instinctively turning to you but the blatant way you stared made his mouth turn to sand paper, so he looked resolutely back at the color-coded bullet points on the screen. 

“Look’s fine,” he mumbled. 

The more he glanced over it, the more it actually did look fine. A bit more than fine, really, which pissed him off even more. The little choose-your-own debate style story was not a terrible way to make fucking Whatever Swift interesting and it kinda looked like you’d bothered to google some simple coding which gave him a better idea of what you were looking for. 

It was...good. 

And that so fucking annoying. 

Well, he wasn’t sure if annoying was the right word for it, but the proposal coupled with your apparent lack of disgust at working with him made his face hot and that only ever happened otherwise when his roommate left the dishes out for weeks or when some newb on his server fucked up their raids. 

Then, you had the audacity to plop down in the chair next to him and— 

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want,” you began, shuffling in the chair to cross your legs on the cushion, “but I was hoping you’d be willing to show me how you do some of the coding stuff? I tried on my own, but I have literally no clue what I’m doing.” 

He could smell you again, like the whole fucking health and beauty aisle at the grocery store. When he turned his head a bit to look at you around the curtain of his hair, you were crooked—back against the armrest and facing him. 

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, sounding a bit less rude than he would have liked to. 

You just fucking stared right at him though, didn’t wrinkle your nose at how greasy his roots were or how he was wearing the same hoodies as yesterday. 

“I’ve always been interested in it, but my program is kinda stressful and I don’t have much free time so I never learned,” you offered and for once Tomura found he didn’t feel his skin crawl under your unwavering gaze. 

The dry, cracked area around his eyes burned though as sweat beaded on his forehead and he quickly wiped at his face with a loose sweatshirt sleeve. The garment hung off his shoulders, bought a size too big that he never ended up growing into. 

“What’s your major?” 

He found the words slipped easily from him. It was the quintessential question you asked of anyone in college when you met, but he’d never been interested in the answer before. 

You babbled a bit about your specific area of study and your voice was surprisingly not as infuriating as he remembered it being before. It was softer, he thought, than when you were soapboxing in class about the sexist implications of old as fuck poetry—it had a less grating quality and was almost pleasing to the ear. 

Or Tomura would have said that if he thought you deserved the compliment. 

But, obviously you didn’t. 

So he didn’t. 

He just pretended to care about what you were saying and didn’t hang onto every word at all. Actually he was more enraptured in the way your lips moved when you talked. You used your hands a lot too, but his eyes were ensnared on the way your mouth quirked and dipped, at the occasional flash of your tongue between strong teeth. When he leaned in a bit, he could smell your breath too: fruity gum and the remnants of whatever you were always drinking in that loud as fuck cup. He wondered now what exactly it was, so he could buy it and get a better idea of what you mouth might taste—

Nope. 

No, see this was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. How were you doing this to him? What a fucking slut. 

Tomura steeled his nerves as you started explaining the extracurriculars you did on the side. 

“My roommate freshman year actually started a gaming club and so I’ve gotten more into that over the years,” you explained, pointing at the stickers on your laptop case. 

“Are you talking about The League?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t know if you’d heard of it,” you shrugged.  

He knew of the gaming club on campus. He’d thought about joining when he enrolled but the allure of anonymity online gaming provided was too strong. Plus his discord server didn’t have annoying weekly meetings. 

The thought of you, up late and illuminated by the blue light of a tv screen, tucked away in one of the basement rooms in the media building was...strange. It also prompted an array of new images—you in those fucking cat ear headsets, seated in his lap as he trashed you in Mario Kart which was even stranger. 

Tomura had to physically shake his head to dislodge the thought. 

“Uh, we should probably work on this right?” he cringed at the way his voice cracked compared to your own, smooth tone. 

You should narrate those fucking sleep time mediation things. His roommate used to hide wireless speakers in his room and blast those when Tomura stayed up too late. It was annoying as shit then, but if it was you talking, he probably wouldn’t have minded so much. 

Or no, no he would definitely mind. 

Yes. It would have been worse if anything. 

“Oh shit, you right. It’s been like two hours.” 

He glanced down at his laptop and saw that it had, indeed, been two hours since he got there. He’d willingly spoken to you for two goddamn hours. It felt like no time had passed at all, but the sun was definitely setting, the overhead fluorescent bulbs taking over as the main light source in the room. 

Weird. 

So you settled back in your chair, typing away like you always did, but the sound wasn’t nearly as frustrating as before. Occasionally, you’d glance over his shoulder and ask questions about what he was working on, but mostly the two of you settled into a comfortable silence. 

This pattern continued for the next few weeks. As the weather warmed, you began to show a bit more skin. He never worked up the nerve to comment on the thick expanse of bare thigh that tapered off nicely into your calf, or the curve of your arms not hidden behind knit sweaters—hell even your fucking shoulders were hard not to look at. 

Maybe all those high school dress codes weren’t actually so full of shit afterall. Cause he was definitely distracted by the way your neck swooped into the exposed skin of your shoulder and down your back on more than one occasion. 

Did all girls know that? Was it some kind of massive conspiracy to crumble the patriarchy or some crap to go flashing bare shoulders everywhere? 

Regardless if you really were trying to hypnotize him into liking you, Tomura stayed resolutely in his monochrome, long sleeved attire, and if you noticed the behavior you never said a word. 

Never said a word about his allergy ridden skin, peeling lips or scarred throat. Never commented on his terrible posture or said his eyes were creepy. Even when he’d occasionally toss a negative remark your way, you never retaliated maliciously. Just brushed him off with a jovial ‘don’t be a dick’ and a playful, but hard slap to his chest or the back of his head. 

The two of you always met in the same, secluded room on the third floor. You’d talk with him in class sometimes or shoot him texts about random bits of inspiration or a late night game memes, but for the most part, your conversations were confined to that room. He found he preferred the study room ‘you’ best. You weren’t as stiff. There was more of a solidity to you, like he’d seen when you told off that Kai bastard. 

It...grew on him. 

He was irrationally anxious that there would be a time when you couldn’t secure this particular room—with it’s big monitor and comfy chairs and less annoying ‘you’—but he’d been reassured after your third work session. 

Someone had knocked softly at the thick, wooden door and a head of wild, bright pink hair peaked around the crack. 

“Sup bro,” the intruder quipped, as they stepped fully into the room. 

“Hey, Spinner,” you mumbled back, looking up momentarily from the essay portion of your presentation before going back to typing. 

Spinner had seemed to notice him at that point and offered a small wave in his direction. “Oh hey, sorry, thought you were alone,” he said quickly. 

“Nah, this is Tomura,” you said, glancing up again and jerking your thumb in his direction. 

Tomura nodded and tugged at his hoodie strings to stop from scratching under the newcomer’s gaze. He’d gotten used to you, but other people still made him a bit nervous. 

“Nice to meet you,” Spinner had a nice smile, bright and flashy when he spoke. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, looking around the room. “You got the nice one, huh. How’d you manage that?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you half closed your laptop and stretched a bit. “Jin was working the front desk, so I’ve just been bribing him with vending machine snacks.” 

“He hasn’t gotten himself fired yet?” Spinner laughed incredulously, but not unkindly. 

“Surprisingly not, but he’s completely corrupt now,” you were picking at the cuticle of your thumb and Tomura fixated on the way the skin split off at the nail. Just like his. “A couple packs of chips and a Monster and I get the most bitchin’ study room whenever I want.” 

“Damn,” Spinner chuckled again and Tomura really wished that he’d leave already. He was beginning to feel himself fading into the upholstery as the conversation left him in the dust. The divergence of your attention away from him or the project was even more annoying that you were. “Well, are you coming to The League meeting tonight? We’re busting out a Smash tournament.” 

“That’s tonight?” you asked, eyes perking up but sliding subtly in Tomura’s direction. “Sorry, I think Tomura and I are gonna be working on this project for a while longer and I’m kinda burnt out. But next time, yeah?”

Spinner rolled his eyes but nodded and kicked off the wall. “That’s not very sexy of you,” he chided and waved a hand in parting. “Gonna work yourself directly into the fucking grave.” 

“Jokes on you, I welcome death.” 

You buried yourself in the screen again and Tomura actually felt a bit grateful for you ending the conversation before he got too painfully awkward. 

But Spinner stopped before he left, looking Tomura up and down from the frayed strings of his black hoodie to the tips of his worn red sneakers. 

“Nice to meet you, man,” he said with a wide grin. “Feel free to tag along next time if you want, we always need more players.” 

The door clicked softly shut behind him and Tomura relaxed back into the silence.

He did end up tagging along—though he spent most of the time hanging off your heels like a lost puppy—to the next meeting of your gaming club and the one after that. Frustratingly enough, he learned that your interests did also extend into skills as you almost bested him in a few rounds Smash. Your profile, lit only by the flashing screen lights, was even more striking outside of his imagined imitations. 

So much so that it found its way into his head late at night when he was too tired to log onto his server. So much so that it had his cock growing firm and tenting his grey sweats without even the visual aid of his go to porn clips. So much so that sometimes, he felt inclined to do something about the throbbing between his legs. So much so that he thought about the way you picked the skin by your fingers. How it looked like his. How your hand might feel like his but softer. Smoother around the edges. With your sweet voice whispering in his ear, making him whine and pant and spill white ropes of release onto his stomach. 

But it was only because you were hot. 

And you were practically begging for him to jack off to the thought of you with those outfits and liking all the shit he liked and noticing when he shrunk away from conversations or including him in them when he started to feel that awful sense of fading into the background. 

Yeah. 

Everybody jerks it sometimes to their group project partners if their ass is nice enough. 

Right?

---

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick. 

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit. 

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked at the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh. 

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t not quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin. 

And sometimes they sucked each other off. 

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of  for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes. 

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass. 

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips. 

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs and yanking him back. 

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.” 

He did like it but he wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking manic grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle. 

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.” 

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away. 

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully. 

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping his cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.” 

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises. 

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it. 

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to. 

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away. 

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.” 

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering. 

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it. 

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…” 

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it. 

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him. 

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth. 

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And Kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?” 

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying. 

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick. 

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets. 

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick. 

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked— 

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deep throat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at the perfect angle. 

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick. 

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.  

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart for me or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”   

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time. 

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.” 

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers. 

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little neckbeard baby’s growing up.” 

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh. 

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again. 

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had  a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting Tomura’s comforter in stains, but he knew him. 

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things than Tomura. 

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.” 

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.” 

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.” 

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge. 

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring Tomura’s failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.” 

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist. 

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.” 

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together. 

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth. 

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz. 

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping. 

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands. 

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn a plus for sucking dick. 

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue. 

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent. 

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness. 

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow. 

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.” 

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual sneering bite. 

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back and nuzzled his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck. 

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own  release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the feeling and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall. 

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.” 

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.” 

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump. 

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom. 

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him. Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. 

Tomura new he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself. 

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did, in his post nut, clingy state, he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum. 

And he really couldn’t handle that, cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large. 

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows. 

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed. 

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks. 

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned. 

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle of his middle and thumb on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture. 

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door. 

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the slamming door. 

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips. 

---

Your project was almost complete. 

In some ways, it sort of felt like the end of an era. To Tomura, who was, by nature, a creature of habit, it was doubly strange to imagine no longer spending hours a few days each week locked away in your little study room with you bugging him to teach you simple html and him not-so-discreetly sniffing your hair. 

He still hadn’t asked you out or whatever he’d been trying to do, much to Dabi’s chagrin. And because of this, Tomura was consistently plagued with the feeling of time running out. 

You were supposed to meet today for probably the last time seeing as the presentation was coming up at the end of the week. He knew it was now or never at this point. If he didn’t fucking say something now, he never would and then he’d have to live with the same his roommate wouldn’t let him live down. 

So instead of heading directly to the library after class, Tomura took the old route back to his apartment and shot you a quick text—praying to the fucking boner gods, as Dabi called them, that you’d take the bait. 

hey would you mind putting the finish touches on shit at my place?— 

there’s some parts i gotta do from my desktop— 

It wasn’t completely a lie. It was nicer working from his pc setup, but before he wouldn’t have let you come anywhere fucking near there. Not until he’d finally accepted that you’d wormed your way into his brain somehow and he couldn’t live another day not knowing what your tongue tasted like. 

bitch (endearing) 

—no problem

—what’s your address?

Tomura’s heart fucking pounded mercilessly against the bony prison of his ribs. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to some good old fashioned anxiety, but he’d never felt a strange stirring in his stomach quite like this. Like he might puke, but in a good way. 

He quickly sent back his street and apartment number, and waited on the corner for you to text back that you’d be there in an hour before he rushed inside. 

“What the hell are you doing, creep?!” Dabi snapped at him when he burst through the door and yeeted his backpack onto the kitchen table. 

Tomura didn’t answer, just made a beeline for the bathroom and slammed the door. He doused himself in record time, unbothered by the hot water causing red, patchy flare ups to bloom over his skin. He was almost disgusted with himself for putting in this much effort for someone like you. Someone being definitely kind of a slut if the way you dressed was a good indicator. But he just kept thinking about the way your hair or skin smelled so goddamn good when you leaned in close and he wanted you to be obsessed with him in the same way. Wanted you to want to bury your face in his neck and breath him in. 

When he stumbled out into the hall moments later, towel drying his hair roughly, Dabi was taking a shot over the sink. 

He looked at Tomura like hell had frozen over. 

“Two showers in like a month?” he mused, sucking his teeth as the alcohol slid down his throat. “What’s the occasion? The fucking, second coming of Christ?”

“Well the bitch is coming over so…”

“Oh, that is a fucking miracle,” Dabi whistled and knocked back a second shot. 

Tomura glared, stepping into his room and tossing his towel aside to tug on his nicest pair of black joggers and t-shirt that gapped a bit at the front, showing off a large expanse of his chest. It made him a bit nervous even just looking at his reflection but you definitely stared the few times he’d taken off his hoodie while you were working, so the risk seemed worth the reward. 

“Yeah, well you’re gonna have to piss off for the night,” Tomura shouted into the kitchen as Dabi sauntered over to lean against his doorframe. 

“You know, I conveniently do have a dick appointment with my own bitch, but now I don’t want to go.”

His tone was teasing, eyes hooded and clearly enjoying how flustered Tomura was already before you’d even gotten here. Tomura moved to snatch another pillow and do battle but Dabi raised his hands up quickly in defeat. 

“Oh no, no, I just fucking did my hair for this Keigo asshole you are not gonna ruin it with that petty shit,” he shot back and disappeared somewhere into his own room. “I’ll be out of your greasy ass hair don’t worry.” 

Tomura seethed and bit back of reply of his hair for once not being greasy as hell, but the multiple cum stains—both his and his nasty fucking roommates—marring the comforter caught his eye. 

“Ugh,” he mumbled and balled the whole thing up, shoving it under the bed and spreading out one of his merch blankets from that manga you both liked. 

Hopefully you wouldn’t think that was too cringey, but he had definitely seen your room plastered with merch in the background of your social media profiles which he totally did not stalk at all and maybe jerk off to on occasion.

The rest of his room was quickly cleared by a combination of shoving random crap into his closet and filling up their recycling bin to the brim with empty energy drink cans. He tackled the kitchen next which wasn’t as hard as he’d expected. Neither he nor Dabi cooked all that frequently, so the dishes weren’t an issue and the vague, lingering smell of whatever the fuck Dabi had been smoking early was cleared out a bit by leaving the balcony door ajar. 

He checked the time on his phone obsessively, about ready to pound on Dabi’s door and throw him out on the step when the man in question emerged on his own—black platform boots donned with his ass hugging ripped jeans and loose tank top. He had on fucking eyeliner.

God and he thought Tomura was being desperate. 

“What? Wishing you’d locked this down first?” Dabi sneered, grabbing his jacket from the rack and shoulder checking Tomura on his way to the door. 

“I—” he stammered for a second, bristling as Dabi towered over him a bit in those fucking boots. “No, asshole, just leave before they get here.”

But at the exact moment that Dabi rolled his eyes and flung open the door, Tomura’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Looking up in mingled horror and embarrassment, he watched the door hit the wall and reveal you, a little more casually dressed than usual looking stunned as Dabi grinned down at you with pierced lips. 

“Hi, I’m-” you started but Tomura’s live-in nightmare cut you off. 

“Oh I know who you are, dollface,” Dabi wiggled his fucking eyebrows at you, clearly playing up the dramatics as much as possible to a degree even Tomura didn’t think he could pull off. “Name’s Dabi—” 

“Uh, yeah and he was just leaving,” Tomura hissed and placed his shoulder firmly in the center of his roommate’s back, launching him onto the welcome mat as you side-stepped through the door. 

“Yeah, see ya later creep,” he fucking winked as the door slammed shut in his face. 

Tomura’s cheeks burned in the following silence which was only broken by your quiet chuckle. He noticed you did that a lot. Laughed at things without even thinking about whether it would sound weird. 

“He seems like a lot,” you mumbled and glanced around at the living room/kitchen/foyer of his tiny apartment. 

“Yeah…” 

He thought he might feel the same sort of disturbance he usually did when Dabi brought his dates home but you seemed to fit easily into the space, unobtrusive but bright against the dingy walls. 

“So, should we get to it?” you asked with a wry smile, spinning to face him and silhouetted by the sun set filtering in past the balcony. 

He may not have felt the usual discomfort of intruders in his space, but his hands shook where he clutched at his thighs nonetheless. And just like always, if you noticed the bunched up fabric and the not so slight tremor in his bony arms, you didn’t say a thing about it. 

You looked so good propped up on his bed, back against the wall and legs dangling off the sides as the now strangely comforting sound of your furious typing filled his room. It had been a few hours now, and Dabi had been true to his work, seemingly gone until tomorrow morning. The room was lit only by your screens and his small desk lamp that lit up your legs like a stage spot light. 

His mind fogged over more than once with the fantasy of laying in between them. 

“I just shared the final bit of script,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence. 

The notification pinged at the top of his screen and he hummed in acknowledgement, plugging in your last pieces of text and saving the program. 

And just like that. 

It was over. 

“I think we’re done,” Tomura whispered. 

He didn’t really mean to say it so softly but it felt strange to talk at full volume so he just rasped out the words, knowing you wouldn’t care how shitty his voice sounded. 

There was a creak and soft footsteps behind him as you shuffled off the bed and over to his desk, hands resting way too close to his shoulders than necessary while you leaned over his chair to look at the finished product. 

It was still a little rough around the edges but Tomura found himself feeling a little swell of satisfaction now that it was complete. All things considered, you’d come up with a pretty damn good concept and he liked knowing he played a role in helping it come to fruition. 

The piece you picked was weird as shit. Some political satire about eating babies, lots of juxtaposition about the private life versus the public self and some bullshit rants on the nature of humanity blah blah blah. 

It actually reminded him of you a little bit, now that he thought about it and used your position as an excuse to stare intently at your eyes scanning the screen. Not the eating babies thing, but the whole private self stuff. In the half semester he’d spent locked away with you in quiet rooms and noisy, dimly lit basements, he could see such a stark contrast between the you he’d known from class all those weeks ago and the you currently sighing in relief over his shoulder. 

Softer, more real—not so Stacy, bimbo, pick me slut like he’d always imagined you to be. 

“Damn, we did it my guy,” you nodded, clearly impressed with yourself and him as well, which had Tomura’s chest puffing out just a bit under the attention. “I could fucking kiss you, I thought we’d never get it done.” 

You turned to him, eyes closed in a half laugh but Tomura was so far from laughing. Cause you were really, really fucking close and he could smell you again and you’d been chewing that fucking gum cause it was hot on your breath and he knew, he really did, that you were kidding, that tis was just a thing people say when they’re relieved but he couldn’t help the weird, deer in the headlights stare that his face froze in. 

Blinking, you raised your eyebrows at him questioningly when he didn’t make some crude comment about your chest brushing against his arm or shrug you off like he might have before. 

And then you got this knowing, little mischievous look that reminds him far too much of Dabi for a split second before you pressed your face just an inch closer. 

His eyes flicked down instinctively to your lips and his face burned when realized there was no way you didn’t see the way he looked at you. Shockingly, despite the churning in his gut and the shaking in his legs, Tomura leaned forward just a bit too, working up just enough scant courage to maybe close the gap, but then you started laughing? 

It bubbled up quietly in your chest, more of a giggle than anything else. 

You were laughing and shaking your head and his stomach fucking dropped to the ground and his face was on fire cause you were laughing and that meant he’d been fucking played like a goddamn fiddle but— 

But then you gave him this faint smile and you weren't laughing anymore, because you were kissing him. 

You were fucking kissing him. 

Which, while yes he had set out to have this be the end goal of the night, he hadn’t actually believed it would ever happen. He’d never felt it in his bones, like he was supposed to. 

And holy shit your lips were so soft??

So soft and smooth with no cool, sharp metal poking or pulling at the splits on his. It was like fucking crack, or what he imagined crack might be like with the way your mouth just glided against his. It was so easy to follow you, which was good cause he didn’t have a goddamn clue what he was doing for the most part. But you made it feel simple, and you even ran your tongue over the little scar that bisected his lips in this painfully adorable way that had Tomura pitching a tent in his pants like lightning. 

God but when you pulled back and just enough to look him in the eye— 

It was like every one of those cutesy, shojo manga suddenly made sense. The panels where the main character’s look at each other and flowers bloom off the fucking page while they stare with those dark, hungry eyes— 

Yeah. 

Yeah he got it now. 

And he was gonna ride that wave while he had it. So Tomura steeled himself and surged forward, grabbing both your arms and smashing his face much less gracefully against yours. He stood and you straightened with him, that same half giggle slipping out in the gaps where your lips parted on his as he clacked your teeth together and pulled back at the jarring sting. 

“Eager are we?” you have that stupid smile on your face again but he honestly didn’t care anymore if it was an act or if your face really just looked like that with no fucking ulterior motive.  

“Shut up,” he muttered, trying to catch your lips again and you mercifully let him. 

And Tomura nearly fucking came in his pants when your licked into his mouth and oh fucking god he really could taste the gum and that loud ass shit you were always drinking. Dabi was right, this was a fucking miracle. Did other people always taste this good or was it just you? 

He responded enthusiastically to say the least, sucking your tongue into his mouth and letting out a choked little noise when you licked at the back of his teeth. The movement of your legs, pulling him back towards the bed went mostly unnoticed until he felt himself tipping forward, landing with a thump on top of you as you both tumbled onto his mattress. 

Tomura’s lips wondered boldly down your throat, smelling the soap or lotion or whatever the hell made you so fucking baby smooth compared to him and he actually growled into your nape when you laughed again. 

“God, what the fuck is so funny?” he sounded muffled from where he was tonguing at the fleshy joining of your neck and shoulder. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you pressed your lips against the peeling crown of his head and that alone made up for the interruption, “I’m just basking in the glory of being right.” 

“About?” Tomura nipped at your skin once before lifting his chin to rest on your sternum. 

“I just always thought you were sorta into me, but it was hard to tell cause you’re so quiet about that sorta thing.” 

“....oh,” he didn’t really have an argument for that so he didn’t try to fight you. 

“Did you think I didn’t notice all the convenient excuses to touch me or like the fact that you’re mean as shit to everyone else but me?“ you asked not unkindly as you stroked a hand through his hair, frizzy from being left to air dry. “I also got the vibes you thought I was kinda a slut anyway and it wasn’t super clear if that was a turn on or not.” 

He cringed a bit at the blatant way you acknowledged all ruder inner monologues about your character. 

“Well, I did a bit initially,” Tomura glanced off to the side, suddenly finding the chipping paint much more fascinating. God he really wanted to get back to the good stuff. “But I don’t now…”

“Oh no,” you cupped his face, running a thumb against the cracked skin on his cheeks and didn’t cringe when the drying skin flaked onto your shirt, “that was a pretty astute assumption.” 

“Uh, what?”

He felt his draw drop and you dipped your thumb past his front row of teeth, towing with the pooling saliva. 

“All the better for you though,” you continued dragging his chest against yours so he could feel your nipples through his shirt, “cause that just means I know how to show you a good time, and I get the feeling you’ve never had that happen before.” 

You punctuated your words with roll of your hips against the fucking iron rod in his pants. The noise that left Tomura was inhuman. He thought back to the day you got partnered with him. How he thought it would be a fucking nightmare and Tomura wanted to let the record show that he officially retracted that statement. This was in no uncertain terms, actually a wet dream come true and he was sure Dabi would never fucking believe  him unless he walked through the door right now. 

“That works,” he stuttered around the finger in his mouth and you reared up to wrap your legs around his waist. 

Your lips found his again and he hummed in approval only cut off as you rolled so he was laying back and looking up. When you pulled away, he shivered at the way you raked your nails over his chest. 

“So, you gonna tell me how much of a disgusting whore you think I am?”

---

“I don’t—”

He couldn't finish the sentence, not when you were grinding down on him like that. How the hell did you even know how to move your hips in those little circles? Was there some Being a Massive Slut for Dummies book he was missing out on or?

“C’mon, Tomura, we’ve been through this,” you sighed and leaned down to such a trail of sloppy kisses from his jaw to his ear, biting down on the soft flesh, “I know you’ve been thinking so much nasty shit about me, the least you can do is let me hear it.” 

Those hands on his chest were moving again, curling into the hem of his t-shirt and tugging until it was over his head and tossed aside on the floor. On an embarrassing instinct, Tomura’s hands shot up to cover himself, only stopped when you leaned onto your haunches and tugged off your own. 

“Shit,” Tomura whispered. 

You weren’t wearing anything underneath. 

He drank in the sight of those cute fucking tits he’d only ever caught glimpses of through those low cut tops you always wore. You grinned down at him, both hands coming up to play with your chest, fingers pinching and rolling the pretty buds. Tomura felt drool slip from the corner of his mouth. 

“Is that all you got?”

He wasn’t completely in control of his body as it catapulted off the bed to smash his face between your squished up tits, but neither of you were complaining if the sounds that followed were any indication. You hummed happily as he pressed his cheeks to the warm, soft flesh and his lips closed around your nipple, sucking and laving his tongue over the pebbled skin. 

“You really wanted everyone to see these, huh?” he meant the words to have more bite but it was hard with your fucking boob in his mouth. 

And he wasn’t looking to stop suckling at you anytime soon so….

“They’re nice tits, what can I say,” you shot back and he couldn’t wait to have you fucked so stupid all those witty one-liners would die on your tongue. 

You fucking tasted so good. He hadn’t ever thought that tits would have a fucking taste but it was like some odd combination of skin and spit and it was addictive. 

“Got a whole fucking eye full that first time you talked to me in class,” he growled, sinking his teeth in hard enough to leave a mark around your nipple. “Fucking parading them around every time you leaned over. Thought you were so fucking desperate for attention.” 

If you really wanted to know all the vile, gross shit he thought on the daily then who was he to deny you that pleasure. 

Cause you were definitely feeling some type of way about it based on the way your fingers threaded through his hair and held him to your chest as he tongued and bit at the skin. 

“Think I’m just a stupid attention whore, is that it?” you moaned when he switched breasts, palm kneading at the one he’d abandoned. 

“I think you’re a useless slut who’ll do anything to get a guy to fucking look your way,” Tomura gasped and sunk his teeth in again. 

A shiver ran through him at the whine leaving your lips. 

He did that. 

He needed to do more of that immediately. 

“You like it when I call you a fucking slut?” 

Tomura didn’t know what came over him in that moment—what weird spirit of horny confidence possessed his body—but suddenly, with a surge of motion, his hand left your chest and latched onto the smooth column of your throat. The move had actually been quite graceful until he tried to flip your positions and got his legs tangled with yours, resulting in more of a...sexy pile than the smooth transition of power he was going for. 

You didn’t seem to mind though. 

You never did.

Tomura guessed if he was going to admit something nice about you, then it would be that at least you were consistent. 

“I do like it when you call me that,” you breathed into his ear, hands under his arms to haul him back over top of you and replace the hand at your throat with a smirk, “and you love that it’s true.”  

Fuck. 

He really did, now that he thought about it. All those message boards always talked about finding virgins who you could mold to your dick just like they were meant to be, but…he was so fucking anxious at the best of times, having those eyes that pissed him off and knew it made this so much more fun. 

There was probably a more eloquent word than that, and you would probably more than willing to supply it, but the goal was to shut you up and he wasn’t gonna be okay with just coasting this time. 

“God, you need to learn how to shut the fuck up,” he spat and subsequently yelped as you leaned forward, licking a wet trail up his chest before latching onto one of his nipples. 

The flushed, pink skin disappeared into the heat of your mouth, leaving his dick twitching violently in his pants that had grown too tight and damp for comfort. The languid motion of your tongue over the rapidly pebbling flesh and the goldilocks perfect way in which you nipped at him was enough to corroborate all your claims of experience. With the constant, electric spark pleasure running from his chest to his pants, Tomura found formulating sentences a little challenging, so he just said the first thing that came to mind. 

“Why don’t we give you something even better to with that fucking whore mouth, hm?”

It was cliche as hell, stolen straight from one of the admittedly plentiful pornos he’d watched in his day, but you just grinned and popped off his nipple, nodded frantically at the innuendo. 

Those clever little fingers that seemed to type without ever stopping dropped to the waistband of his sweats and tugged them down his thighs. He kicked a bit awkwardly to get them off his ankles but you were already yanking the elastic of his boxers. You smiled up at him through your lashes as you tucked the fabric just under his balls and let your eyes wander slowly from his splotchy red chest to the patch of hair just at the base of his dick. 

If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought you were drooling. 

Tomura felt a bit more in his element here, having had some actual frame of reference—as his asshole roommate was so generous to provide—so he didn’t waste any time. Falling onto his back, he squirmed up the sheets until his head was resting on a pillow and you were crawling between his thighs. God and you and you had your ass up too, wiggling it back and forth like you were wagging your tail at just the thought of getting his cock in your mouth. 

Well, since you were so eager, Tomura decided to jump right in. You seemed to like things a bit rough anyway, so he reached out, burying a hand roughly in your hair and plunging in. 

The cute and kinda disgusting choking gasp you let out was addictive. 

And now he fucking knew Dabi was lying about his dick being small, cause you had a big fucking mouth to talk all that shit and it was absolutely stuffed full. Your lips were stretched obscenely not even halfway down his shaft and your eyes were already pricked with tears at the edges. The fucking feel of your mouth was like how he imagine silk might feel, if it was soaked and scorching. Your throat constricted around him as you gagged and oh it was fucking cock sucking heaven he was in. 

Tomura was almost tempted to grab his phone and snap a— 

Actually, that was a fucking great idea.  

His free hand fumbled for his pants, closing around his phone and unlocking it while you hummed and pulled back, bobbing your head twice before sinking back down, Your eyes flew open when the camera flash lit up the dark corner of his room. He could feel you trying to move away, to snap at him for taking his little keepsake but he quickly fisted your hair and bucked his hips up to keep you firmly on his dick. 

“Oh no, you were so eager to suck me off, you’re gonna finish the fucking job before you breathe again,” he panted, holding the sides of your face and fucking your mouth in earnest. 

He’d found it easy to simply follow the instinctive rhythm of his hips, constantly seeking out the wet heat source. Your eyes rolled back in your goddamn as his length slid past your lips over and over again 

Holy shit it felt so good. 

And it felt even better when he could see how much you loved it. 

How much you loved his filthy fucking almost virgin cock shoved down your throat and he finally felt the vulgar dam in his mind break. 

“I think about you all the time,” he gasped, keening high when you ran your tongue over his slit on ever upstroke, just how he liked it. “I lay here at night and fuck my hand and think about sinking into your tight fucking cunt. I wanna fill you up so bad, it’s the only thing on my mind whenever I talk to you.” 

The only thing stopping him from cumming straight down your throat in that moment was sheer horny force of will. 

“When you mouth off in class, all I hear is you just begging for someone to bend you over and fuck that cocky fucking arrogance right out of you,” below him, you reached a hand up, pinching hard at his nipple and humming at the squeal he made. “Fuck, and I want eat your pussy while you’re up there presenting this shit, so I can watch you try and keep it together so know one else knows what a fucking whore you are for me. Such a fucking slut for me.” 

Something was washing over him, some weird, intense revelation of something that perhaps he’d always known but just needed the motivation of a fucking earth shattering blowjob to work out of him—that he wanted you. Really wanted you. Felt entitled to you. He’d spent so much mental energy obsessing over it, that really, no one else fucking deserved to touch you but him. 

No one else would want you this much. 

No one else would want him this much.

Your hands had found their way to his thighs and they were rubbing sweet little circles into the soft skin. 

“You’d love that wouldn’t you?” his voice was wrecked, even more than usual, from the near constant string of high pitched whining “You’d love to have me fucking ruin you, make you cum all over my tongue in front of everyone. Let them fucking know who does that shit to you.” 

You managed a nod, even with his cock buried deepdeepdeep in your throat. And Tomura was fucking twitching at the thought. The muscles in his legs jumped under your touch. A slimy mix of spit and precum was gushing down his length, slipping over his balls and slicking his ass. It was sloppy and the room was so full of the wet slap of his hips against your mouth. 

It was so much, too much, oh shit, shit he didn’t want to cum like this— 

“Wait, wait!” he cried, back arching with the agony of leaving the plush paradise between your lips. “Please—I wanna cum in you.” 

You looked up at him, head hanging from his grip in your hair, with your jaw slack and dripping and nodded. He felt as though his ribs were lined with magnets that pulled him into your outstretched arms, kneeling as he pressed his mouth frantically to yours, uncaring of the mess of the faint taste of bitter precum. 

There was something frantic in the air, like a switch had been flipped. The need to feel you, to be connected at every point— to get just a little bit more of what he’d earned—grew stronger with every passing second. 

His lips were rough and raw and stung when you licked them but that only made it sweeter. You tongued at his teeth and sucked him into your mouth like he was warm food after months without. It was needy. Needy and ragged because you needed him. 

You needed him. 

What a fucking thought that was. 

Your pants were quickly discarded along with his boxers, and for the first time in his life, Tomura didn’t care about all the exposed skin. He didn’t think about all the unsightly patches of irritation or scaring, because you never had. Not once had you ever stared or commented and you weren’t starting now. Your hands smoothed over every inch of him, just as desperate like he always knew you would be.   

Because you were so— 

Perfect. 

Fucking disgusting. 

Tomura let you fall back onto the mattress and whimpered at the feeling of your thighs hitched around his waist. He made the mistake of letting his eyes leave your mouth to glance down and oh, oh he was enraptured. 

Dabi was right, he’d never actually seen a pussy in real life and holy shit. 

His fingers gravitated immediately to your lips, fucking soaked, soaked in arousal that had smeared on your thighs. 

“You get this fucking hot just from my cock in your mouth?” he asked, grinning as he collected some of the slick on his fingers and brought them curiously to his mouth. 

Delicious. 

“Yes—fuck—yes!” you whined and pulled him closer with your thighs. 

“You want me to fuck you that bad?” his fingers ghosted over where he thought your clit might be and was rewarded when you moaned low as he brushed over a raised little bud. “Does this nasty little slut want me that fucking bad?”

“Please Tomura…” his name on your tongue was better than any crazy ass party drug Dabi ever brought home, “you have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting you so fucking deep in me—”

Your words cut off with a sob as he ran his fingers down, searching for your entrance and sinking in hard when he found it. And it was so nice in there. So fucking hot. 

“What are you?” he asked, thrusting his fingers in and out, trying to remember how Dabi did it to him and what felt good.

He plunged them deep and curled up towards your belly and you sobbed, “A fucking slut!” 

God he was so glad no one else was here to hear that. 

This was just for him. 

“And who’s fucking slut are you?” 

He really could help himself, he just wanted to hear it so fucking bad. 

“Yours,” you whined and rolled your hips down so his thumb caught on your clit and. “I’m your fucking slut!” 

“Shit,” he rasped and ripped his fingers from you. 

He wasn’t entirely conscious of his movements. There was just one, very loud voice, screaming in his head to bury his cock in that perfect fucking heat and suddenly his was gripping himself and pushing in and— 

“Ahh, fucking god,” Tomura whimpered, body going limp as his tip was sheathed fully inside you. 

His forehead dropped down to rest against yours, arms like half cooked pasta on either side of your head, failing to hold him up. You brought your arms up, sliding fingers through his hair and down his back as your ankles locked right above his ass to urge him forward. 

Tomura’s cock sunk in inch by inch until he bottomed out with a groan. His mouth moved even when the rest of him couldn’t

“So tight…” he mumbled, head slipping into the crook of your neck and sucking lightly at the skin, feeling the comfort of it in his mouth. “Didn’t think it’d be this tight.” 

“Are you trying to insult me or were you just a virgin?” you huffed out, but there was a laugh bubbling just behind the words. 

He weakly held up to fingers to indicate the second, dropping them immediately to clutch at the sheets when you clamped down on his cock, nestled sweetly against your cervix. 

“Wait really?” you asked, hands skimming up his back to grip his cheeks. 

Tomura tried to hide himself in your shoulder, because the fucking dopey ass smile on his face would surely feed your ego and he didn’t need you knowing that your pussy had him fucking higher than a goddamn kite. 

If only his bones hadn’t suddenly taken on all the physical properties of jello. 

“I’ve fucked around before,” he said, which was technically true, “just never...like this.” 

He didn’t even need to move—which, well, wasn’t entirely true he was burning with the urge to drive himself frantically into your dripping cunt—but he was so blissed out from just the soft, warm, tight hug of your walls around his cock that pulsed precum with ever clench, was enough. 

What he wouldn’t give to have this all the time. Have you constantly sitting on his cock, keeping him warm and hard and cumming inside you. 

At the reminder of why exactly he’d set out to do this, his body regained a bit of it’s former solidity. 

“Oh,” you began, voice strained and hips shaking with the effort of not rocking back on his dick. “Well, you feel fucking amazing—”

Tomura cut you off with an experimental thrust. He pulled all the way back, watching as his tip just nearly popped out of your cute fucking hole and then snapped in again. You were a fucking mess above him, gripping at the pillows and then at his arms, dragging red scratches down the pale, fragile skin there.

It only spurred him on. 

“You like that? Like my huge fucking cock in you?” he growled, flopping down so he could feel your nipples brush against his while he railed into you. 

As much as you apparently enjoyed hearing all the filth that spewed from him, he really liked having a receptacle for it all. It had been hidden inside him for so long, the release was only made sweeter with the addition of your slutty fucking pussy clenching at every word. 

“So fucking big, Tomura—”

You rocked up to slip your tongue into his mouth again, sucking softly at his rough lower lip and drinking down all the less than dominant cries that poured from him as his release grew again. He wasn’t really sure how to get you off, but you seemed to understand the intentions behind his hand wandering to nudge at the space he was driving his cock into. 

Those soft fingers held his and guided them up to that nub he’d found before and moved his hand in little, rhythmic circles that had you fucking sobbing into his mouth. 

Real tears streaked down your face as you moaned into him, “Oh fuck, yes Tomura, baby, just like that…!”

And for once, he had absolutely no qualms with doing exactly what you said. He wanted—needed—to know what it would feel like for you to cream all over his dick. Wanted to see the stupid fucking face you would make as he ripped you apart on his definitely massive length. 

You were rocked back into ever thrust, drinking in the sound of slapping skin, mouth permanently attached to his—tongues locked together.   

The taste of fruit gum mixed with salty cum and the smell of sweat and sex and cleanlaundryshampoo was fucking everywhere. It was intoxicating and heady and all he had ever needed. 

Really, you weren’t so bad when you were crying on his cock.

And you were fucking crying, screaming for him—his name, calling him ‘baby’ in a way that had his heart stuttering uncomfortably in his throat and babbling about how good, how fucking perfect he felt inside. 

“C’mon,” he grunted, “c’mon, I wanna see my fucking slut cum for me, all over my cock.” 

And for once, you actually followed an order. 

His fingers on your clit never gave up and he could fucking feel the orgasm wash over you. Your cunt spasmed and clamped hard like a vice, tighter than anything he ever could have imagined. And you choked out his name, so desperate:

“Tomura, fuck yes baby!”

God your face was so good, all scrunched up and then relaxing into a blissful, panting, open-mouth grin.  

It was sort of beautiful. 

But he wasn’t gonna fucking say that. 

“Good fucking slut,” he said instead, and arched his chest into yours so he could feel the swell of your pretty tits against his chest. 

And he almost fucking lost it right there but he needed more, needed to feel full too. The clenching of your pussy was so unmatched by any sensation but he guessed Dabi always called him a greedy whore for a reason. 

His hand grabbed at yours—hips only letting up when he couldn’t actively get his dick out of you as you came—and brought it roughly to his lips. Tomura was still slick, covered in spit and sweat but he sucked two of your fingers into his mouth anyway. His tongue delved between them as you watched with wide eyes as he spat onto them and whined.

“I need—oh shit—inside, inside...fuck…” 

He could fucking get his tongue to make words but he dragged your hand to his ass and prayed you’d get the hint. Prayed you’d fill him up too. 

And you certainly delivered. 

His hips started up their unforgiving rhythm again now that you’d rode out your release, slipping even more easily into your pussy with all the slick spilling out of you. God that would be his cum soon—his cum dripping out onto your thighs. Your feet dropped to the bed and Tomura grabbed your waist for leverage. 

Your clever little finger circled his hole, wrist bent from the awkward angle below him but working nonetheless. His spit and precum made less than ideal lube but he welcomed the burn of you entering him. A second one joined behind the first and it was rough going for a moment until he was able to rock back fully, finding a certain bend of the knee and half thrust that had him simultaneously grinding into you and fucking himself on your fingers. 

And then you managed to get deep enough to brush against that fucking spot, that magic fucking spot that had him seeing stars and screaming your name—not slut, not bitch, not some other fucking cruelty—your name and spilling rope after rope of hot cum against your walls. 

Your eyes did that thing where they rolled halfway up and crossed like this was some fucking hentai and you weren’t knuckles deep in his ass while he came inside you. 

Tomura went completely limp then, boneless like a cheap chicken wing and collapsed onto your chest, whimpering when your fingers left him empty but comforted by the rhythmic clenching of your cunt, warming his cock and keeping his cum safe inside. 

“So good,” you whispered into his hair, soft palms smoothing over his back in slow circles. “Felt so good, Tomura. You were so good.” 

He shivered in your arms, lulled by the feeling of your breasts under him and breathing in the mixture of soap and sex that radiated from your skin. Everything about it was strange, but in that wonderful kind of way that new games sometimes were. A tingling at the prospect of a new adventure, a new world, and a new journey to embark on. 

You pressed your lips to his sweat slicked forehead and didn’t turn away in disgust. 

No, instead you just held him on his cum soaked sheets and slept. 

---

Tomura woke about an hour later, dick finally soft and tangled in a knot of limbs with you on his bed. You’d stretched and let him kiss you without asking, accepting his tongue on yours just as easily as you had before. 

After detangling yourself from him, you left to take a shower and Tomura found that he couldn’t bare the notion of being apart from you for more than twenty minutes now even more than he couldn’t fucking stand showering, so he’d joined you anyway. 

You didn’t talk much and neither did he, but it was that same comfortable silence you’d formed in your little study room hideout. He let you drag him under the spray just long enough to wash most of the jizz and spit from his thighs before he stepped back to lean on the tile and watch as you rinsed yourself. 

Only once did you mention the rough, scaly skin on his neck and face. Your hand was gentle, roving over the cracks and asking him if he’d tried any soap for sensitive skin. That yours was like that too and you’d let him borrow some to try out. He blushed at the implication of seeing you again after this. 

It was well past midnight when you toweled off and dried him as well. He lent you one of his few clean t-shirts and you wore it without any underwear. Tomura shameless stared at your bare ass when you bent over to strip the ruined comforter from his bed. 

He thought about burying himself in you again, and because he hasn’t dressed yet—and you don’t push him away when he presses against you—he does. And you moan for him again when he fucks you from behind, just as rough but it all comes easier the second time around. 

You told Tomura, later—when you were both exhausted again and stained with release—he was kinda a natural and something about the praise really got to him. 

“You’d fucking know,” he snipped at you, curled on his side with his face in your tits. 

This was his new favorite position, he’d decided and he snickered at the thought of planting his face right in your chest while you were both in class. He’d pay money to see the horrified look on your prim fucking face. 

“Yes I would,” you hummed into his hairline, mouthing softly at the baby curls around his crown. “So, when are you gonna take me out?”

Tomura felt the loading circle of death spinning in his brain for a moment. Like a 404 error had occurred somewhere in amongst his neural pathways. 

“I thought you said you were a slut?” he asked and almost immediately wished he could quit the game, even if it meant he had to replay all the scenes before this moment. 

But you didn’t pull away. 

You really never do.

He thought idly that you both must have some weirdo bug making you enjoy all the disgusting bits of the other. 

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take me on a date if that’s something you’d like,” you chuckled and he felt your chest rise with it and the breath on his forehead. 

He nestled his face deeper into your tits, “yeahsurefinewhatever.”

The lips pressed to his head smiled but you didn’t say anything again for a long time. Not until both of you were drifting off again, falling into the trap of shared body heat and the odd human craving of skin against skin. 

“Your freaky roommate isn’t going to walk in right?”

Tomura grumbled, mouthing at your nipple and suckling softly, “no, you’re mine now, he can’t have either of us.” 

You signed contentedly for a moment, moaning lightly as he swiped his tongue over your sensitive skin before the words caught up to you. 

“Wait, what?”

“Nothing, go to sleep.” 

You didn’t push it any farther, or remove Tomura from his sucking at your tits. It was quite possibly the most peaceful night of sleep he’d ever gotten, which only ensured the fact that you would never be allowed to sleep anywhere else. 

This was your responsibility now, after all, and you fucking loved responsibility so he didn’t see any problems. 

Shockingly, Tomura did let you leave the next morning to grab some things from home and change clothes. He watched you walk down the sidewalk from his window and only meandered back into the kitchen when you turned a corner out of sight and the front door slammed open. 

Dabi was plopped on the couch when he ventured out, shirtless and absolutely covered in hickeys. Tomura would have commented on it, but he knew he didn’t look much better and didn't want to invite the comparison. 

“What the hell got into you, creep?” he asked incredulously, leering from the cushions, looking him up and down. 

“I got into bitch (endearing),” he cupped his hands to form parenthesis in the air and grabbed a Monster from the fridge. 

Dabi gaped, pushing himself up and not so subtly limping over to cage him against the counter, “No you fucking did not.”

“Did so,” he shot back, knocking his shoulder roughly into Dabi’s chest so he could stalk back into his room. “Looks more like someone got into you.” 

You’d put him in such a weirdly pleasant mood, he really didn’t want to give that up, but Dabi was present, the bitch. 

“We got into each other,” Dabi huffed, flopping down on Tomura’s bed and ruining your scent on his sheets, “No fucking way you had the balls dude.” 

Impulsively—in part because he really needed to ego boost of proving Dabi wrong and to convince himself as well that last night (and this morning) had really happened—Tomura whipped out his phone, flashing that pretty picture of you choking on his dick right into that smug bastards face. 

The fucking grin only grew wider. 

“I’ll be fucking damned, creep,” he stood from the bed to get a closer look, but Tomura locked the screen quickly and shoved it back in his pocket. “How much did you have to pay her?”

“I don’t know what you have to do to get some,” Tomura scoffed, “but mine was free.” 

Dabi looked like he had something smart to say back to that but Tomura didn’t want to hear it. 

“Get out,” he called over his shoulder as he took Dabi’s place on his bed, inhaling the little wisps of you left over on the cotton. God he was never gonna wash these. 

“Aw, don’t wanna give me all the details?” 

He peaked up at Dabi, leaned against his doorframe. 

“No, I have to get dressed,” he paused before the next words that left his mouth, hiding his face in the pillow so Dabi wouldn’t see the furious red of blood rushing to his cheeks. “I have a date later.” 

---

“Stop fucking squirming,” you leaned forward to bite at Tomura’s lips as he shifted under you.

Your hands were gathering his hair and pulling it in twists to the side, tying the strands away from his face. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but your legs wrapped around his waist as he sat in his desk chair, cock soaked and deliciously warm in your pussy was harder to ignore. Especially when you clamped down on him every time he moved while you worked.

“Then get off my dick,” he snapped, leaning back in the chair for better leverage as he snapped his hips up. You looked straight out of those hentai memes, eyes almost crossing when he pushed you down to meet his thrust. “Fucking greedy slut.”

“Excuse-ah,” this time it was you bouncing on his length unprompted, “me, but I wasn’t the one with my cock out begging cause it was so cold.”

Your tone was entirely too even for his liking, and Tomura frowned as he dug his hands into your hips and made you grind into his lap. He really was dating such a fucking whore.

“Well, if you hadn’t fucking insisted we go to this dumbass party, then I could have fucked you hours ago,” he knew he was pouting, but you’d started meeting every roll of his hips halfway, using your thighs now to start up a slow rhythm. “Maybe don’t take so long picking an outfit next time.”

“I was picking yours asshole,” you caught his lip between your teeth again and sucked.

Joke was on you though, the more you tried to fucking tease him, the deeper he was gonna fuck you.

How d’you like that, bitch?

“What—don’t you dare fucking stop—was wrong with my outfit?”

He could feel spit pooling under his tongue. Your fucking pussy always did this to him, made his mouth water and this thighs shake while you rode him in earnest now, moaning into his ear as he made sure you felt him in your fucking guts.

God, he was never gonna get over that—the sounds you made. The sounds he pulled from you.

“Tomura, baby,” every word was punctuated with a gasp, one of his thumbs drawing those little circles on your clit that he figured out pretty quick made you cry. “I love you—and the easy dick access sweatpants provide—dearly, but your ass looks so fucking good in these jeans.”

Something weird always happened to his chest when you said stupid, cheesy shit like that. He knew that was thing fucking normies said all the time, and he used to gag whenever he heard people in the halls professing their feelings to each other. But whenever you did it, Tomura’s lips just instinctively fought to turn up at the edges and his lungs suddenly forgot what air felt like in favor of dedicating ever braincell in his body to memorizing whatever dumb as hell, sweet thing you said.

“Why does—mm yes fuck...” he stared entranced at his lap where your slutty goddamn pussy swallowed him up and pulsed around his cock with every tight circle drawn on your clit. “Why does it matter how my ass looks?”

You paused while he fought with the neckline of your top so your tits bounced free and he could suck at your nipples. And holy shit, you could call him a baby all you wanted, but he’d never get tired of the fucking taste feel smell of your chest filling his mouth and pressed so nice against his face.

Shit, he’d fucking live in your tits if he could. Suckle at you endlessly until you poured sweet fucking milk onto his waiting tongue.

Cause you told him one time that was a thing that could happen. Swatted his head away when he pawed at you for too long cause apparently if he sucked hard enough all the time—

“Listen, if your cute little boyfriend had the tightest ass on the fucking planet, wouldn’t you want to show that off to all your friends.”

His face lit up. Tomura could feel whatever blood left not pumping through this dick, rush to his cheeks and he buried his face more resolutely in your tits so as not to give you the satisfaction of flustering him.

You fucking cooed at him every time and squished his cheeks up, calling him your baby boy.

Fucking disgusting.

But damn if he didn’t love it.

“Whatever,” he groaned, picking up his pace and drinking down the delicious little whimpers you let out every time his cock met you coming down on his lap. “Shut the fuck up, and take it like a good fucking whore.”

“My fucking pleasure,” you grunted before losing all semblance of attempted hairstyling entirely, letting out a long, low moan as he pummeled that pretty pussy and sped up on your clit.

Tomura would absolutely never admit to it, but fucking you always had him feeling so fucking needy. The second your lips or your cunt were swallowing him up it was like a dam broke and every selfish request just poured out of him.

“Wanna cum,” he mumbled into your breast, whining as your walls fluttered and pulsed.

He knew what that meant now. Tomura was what you called ‘quick on the uptake’ and honed in fast on what it felt like when you started to lose it.

“Yeah? Does my pretty boy want me to make him feel good?”

God fuck yeah.

He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it out loud but, yes. Tomura was your pretty, baby boy and he needed he sweet fucking bitch to make him bust so deep inside you.

He was about to reach his peak too, teetering on the edge when the pounding started.

And not the fun kind. Not the bend you over his bed and rail you till you couldn’t fucking walk.

No, no, no.

This was balled fist slamming against his door and Dabi’s grating, smoky voice shouting from the hall.

“Could you fornicate later freaks?!” he called through the door. “You’re gonna be fucking late.”

Tomura’s orgasm hurtled to a painful halt and you groaned again—well growled was probably a more appropriate term for the snarl you let out into the crook of his neck.

“Why the hell does it matter to you?!” Tomura shouted back, the force of his voice shifting the angle of his cock. The minute stimulation felt so good he kept up the slow grinding motion.

You groaned again—decidedly much sweeter—and sucked a cheeky fucking mark right on the side of his neck.

“What are you fucking doing?” he hissed to you, but it was Dabi’s voice who answered.

Along with the click of his knob turning.

“Well, it sounded like you were having a hard time getting your bitch off, so I was gonna offer—“

Dabi stopped, taking the split second before the controller Tomura chucked at his head connected to stare fixedly at your bare ass seated on Tomura’s thighs.

“Yes, my bitch, so get the fuck out!” he yelled, coming out a little choked at the end as your slutty self kept grinding on his cock.

“Yeah, and he’s doing a great job,” you mused, languidly raising your head from his shoulder and kissing up his jawline, completely unfazed entirely by the new audience.

Tomura’s brain was ping ponging so hard between rage, cheek burning embarrassment, and being the most turned on he’d ever been in his life.

The things you fucking did to him.

“If you say so sweetheart,” Dabi, also completely unperturbed by watching you grind on his roommates dick, leaned against the doorframe like you all were chatting about the fucking mayoral election.

“I do,” you lifted your hips then, showing off one full bounce that had both Dabi and Tomura’s eyes rolling.

Though the latter was much more annoyed than Tomura could hope to be.

“Fucking show off,” his roommate muttered.

“Isn’t your boyfriend waiting in the kitchen?” you huffed and glared over your shoulder at Dabi in his platform boots and mesh top.

He scowled and flipped the two of you off with chipped, black nails and sauntered back down the hall calling, “not my boyfriend,” as he went.

He left the door wide open.

Tomura almost yelled for him to come back and close it, but you took the silence as an opportunity to start riding him full force and even though you were the one bouncing in his lap, he had to grip your waist and hold on for the ride.

Fucking bitch.

Tomura’s fucking bitch.

You held his hand as you walked across campus to the media building in the budding Spring evening. And that was almost as bad as you saying all those pointless, nice things to him.

Cause people looked, like they watched you linking fingers with that creepy guy in their classes or from the dining hall, and you walked swinging his hand in yours the whole way like it didn’t fucking matter.

Didn’t even occur to you that everyone on campus would know now that the hot chick they saw walking around was with him.

But all those imaginary eyes seemed to melt away as you dragged him behind you, down the old path you both used to take everyday after working in the library. Along the worn concrete sidewalk to the ‘secret door’ in the alley that was perpetually propped open with a copy of the Manifesto, taking two flights of stairs down to the basement and following the soft blue glow to the unofficial layer of The League.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after your both walked through the door.

Tomura recognized most of the people there as friends you introduced him to. You’d met them all through classes or through other friends, forming a close knit group of everyone who knew everyone which was apparent from the way they all cheered when you walked in.

He suddenly was reminded why he never came to shit like this. Not that people were scrambling to invite Tomura Shigaraki to their parties, but his skin itched even when the eyes never focused on him.

Across the room Spinner, the other co-leader of the club, who he knew the best out of everyone, waved at him, and Tomura nodded back. His eyes quickly picked Dabi out of the crowd, leaning off in the corner with a red cup in hand, forehead pushed up against his blond boyfriend’s. Keigo was apparently a reluctant member of the other gaming club on campus—cause of course there was a demand for fucking two—the president of which knew Spinner and who, of course, knew you, which led to Tomura’s asshole, sometimes voyeur roommate being invited along.

Fucking social circles were so needlessly complicated.

Tomura vaguely recognized the other blond guy in the room—Jin was his name? Maybe?—enough to pick his wild, sandy hair out of the crowd, tucked off to the side of the table laden with shitty vending machine snacks. He had his arm slung around someone Tomura had never met before, talking with another short blond girl he didn’t know and Jin’s roommate, Magne. He patted himself on the back for remembering two out of the four names. He also remembered Jin worked at the library, though he hated it, and had been tangentially responsible for hooking the two of you up in that study room, your study room.

Tomura nodded at Jin too as he saw the two of you walk in and enthusiastically shouted some greetings and only one profanity. A new record for him.

Someone else Tomura hadn’t been introduced to shouted from the floor by the gaming set up as Spinner punched the air in triumph in the glow of the victory screen.

“I’m gonna grab us some drinks,” you whispered to him, and he let go of your hand reluctantly, watching as you stopped, doling out hugs to everyone—excluding Dabi—as you went.

He looked around, cast adrift without you to hold him to the dock of social interaction.

It was clear he’d have to find a backup person to cling to for the remainder of the night if you were just gonna fucking abandon him for your friends.

Though Tomura did his best to not be all that salty about it. The residual anger melted a little bit as he watched Magne bear hug you off the floor so hard your back popped. It was only when he felt a hand on his shaking shoulder that Tomura realized he’d been laughing at the spectacle.

Spinner flashed him a toothy smile, arms crossed and watching intently as you pretended to gasp in a breath when Magne finally dropped you from her massive arms.

“Hey man,” he said, wild hair the color of those weird unicorn drinks from that cafe you liked sticking up on end. “How’s it going?”

Tomura shrugged, unsure how to respond without you to fill in the unmediated gaps in conversation.

“Fine, I guess.”

Spinner was not who he would have chosen to hang with all night. Yeah, he knew him the best, but Tomura sorta got the vibes your roommate lowkey hated his fucking guts. And while no one would say he was the master at interpersonal relationships, Tomura could fucking tell when someone didn’t like him. Most of his life till now had been spent in a constant state of snide side eyes and fake politeness.

Maybe that’s why he used to find you so fucking off putting.

But you were different now. He knew you meant all that bullshit. Spinner just wasn’t as good at pretending as he thought he was.

“Nice,” Spinner acted as though he didn’t notice the edge in Tomura’s tone. Or he was just fucking stupid. “I’m glad you guys actually came tonight, I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

He chuckled a bit to soften the blow of that last part, rubbing his neck and smiling sheepishly. Tomura didn’t return the gesture.

“Yeah,” he said simply, kicking at the scuffed linoleum with his sneakers.

He very much wished that you hadn’t tied his hair back so he could hide his face away from Spinner’s stare.

“Listen bro,” that pink head ducked down to catch Tomura’s eye, looking a little bit more guilty now than before. “I know I’ve been kind of a dick lately—and I already talked with them,” he gestured to you, currently pouring some awful, glittery concoction into Jin’s mouth as the smaller blond girl clapped beside you. “But I was just sort of ‘going through it’ for awhile and, well it doesn’t fucking matter, anyway sorry for being such an asshole...”

Tomura’s mouth got dry like it did whenever you hugged him in public or said you liked his eyes. The words drifted around in his head, spitting back error codes as they swirled.

He honestly couldn’t recall a time anyone had ever apologized to him. And he never knew what to say in normal conversation, much less fucking this. Spinner kept looking at him expectantly, but as the silence dragged on, Tomura watched his face falter just a bit.

And that made him feel even worse.

Fuck.

What would you say? Something nice??

“Don’t worry about it,” he blurted—which really was your catchphrase, but he was sure you wouldn’t mind him borrowing it.

“Thanks bro,” Spinner grinned again, this eyes closed, thin lipped thing that made Tomura feel hot just looking into the glow of it. “We’re cool yeah?”

He couldn’t see you, but he could feel that disgusting, proud stare you got every time he elected to order both your drinks when you went out or asked for extra ketchup on his own.

“Whatever, yeah,” Tomura scratched absently at his throat and Spinner jerked his head over to the gaming setup. The Smash music was drifting softly out of twin speakers.

“Wanna play a round?” he asked.

Tomura glanced quickly over at you, now watching as Jin attempted to juggle some of the small snack bags and Magne tossed more flying chips into the mix.

Yeah, you’d probably be awhile.

“...sure.”

It was halfway through the round—in which Tomura was goddamn slaughtering Spinner’s Kirby—that you finally wandered back over to him, two red cups in hand and a few bags of stolen Chex mix.

You set them both down on the small coffee table—also ‘donated’ from the theater department—and plopped next to him on the couch. Spinner growled from the floor, the other club president—The Commission apparently, who the fuck was coming up with these names?—sat kneeled behind him, hands on his shoulders and shouting words of encouragement.

The adrenaline of the fight rushing through him increased exponentially when you gripped his bicep and added your voice to the din.

“Fuck yeah, baby! Kick his fucking ass!”

“Oh wow,” Spinner yelled back. “Now I see where your fucking loyalties lie.”

“Has nothing to do with loyalty,” you laughed. “I just want to see you eat shit for once.”

“Should have come to the big tournament then!” The Commission president chuckled too, looking over their shoulder with a grin.

“Damn, now I’m really sorry I missed it,” you swung your legs up onto the cushions only to tuck them up under yourself as you stared down at the couch. “Ew what the hell is this stain?”

The Commission president was suddenly very much not looking back at you anymore, Tomura noticed. Spinner, at your comment, choked on his fucking spit, not quite dodging Tomura fast enough and tumbling straight off the map.

As Tomura’s character flashed first on the screen you cheered and gripped his face, landing a quick, wet smack of a kiss straight to his fucking lips. Spinner and his friend groaned in unison and there was a chorus of friendly disgust from everyone else gathered around watching.

He could care less.

The air felt strangely alive, people’s gazes flitting over him as though he were part of the scenery. But in a good way this time. Not the purposeful overlooking of his existence, not as though he were an accessory to the room, but a crucial part of it. Like there might be an empty space they would notice if he wasn’t occupying it.

Like he belonged attached to your hand or your hip or just on his own, playing games and drinking shitty juice and laughing at whatever weird as fuck thing Jin shouted at unprompted, random intervals.

Everyone remained gathered by the monitor as you selected your character to face off against him in the next round.

“I’m gonna...” you growled, coming in with an impressive attack and backing out of range, a move signature of yours, “suck your fucking dick!”

“I’m gonna fucking suck yours first, bitch,” he retorted and Magne offered up a kind “hell yeah” in support.

Her large fist came into view over his shoulder, which he found himself bumping against his own without a second thought.

The music filled his ears, the shouting voices no longer suffocating, but adding to the thrum in his chest—the same beat that had his lips pulled up in a smile which ached in his cheeks, but it didn’t matter.

The burn in the cracking skin around his lips and eyes was inconsequential. His face bare of the usual curtains of hair was turned up towards the screen in full display.

He watched you, silhouetted in the blue like of the monitor, saw the figures of your friends gather close around him, engulfing him like an ameba, adding Tomura in as another cell to this new organism.

He breathed.

And felt alive.

[crowhyun]

THE DAUGHTER WHOS SOUL YOU SOLD

trickster demon!Kai x reader

Genre(s): smut, fluff, angst, a teeny bit of crack

Warnings: mentions of hell, marriage, fire, consummation, lingerie, both Kai and reader and virgins, they’re kinda awkward but cute, dry humping, penetrative sex, creampie, Kai is rough

Words: 8.5k

You tried to stifle your laughter, covering your mouth with your sweater paws as you watched Kai stalk his way up to your professor. He stood directly in front of him, knowing that he was only able to be seen by you, waving his hands in his face.

     You didn't want to be called out by your professor, but it was getting harder and harder to hold on your laugh, especially since the classroom was rather silent. You watched as Kai pushed one of the professor's pens off of the table, the pen rolling a few feet away from him. He stopped talking and went to pick up the pen. With his back turned, Kai threw some other stuff off his his desk.

     Your professor furrowed his brows, looking at the fallen papers with obvious anger written on his face. You bit your lip, shutting your eyes tight to try not to laugh.

     "Alright, give it up." Your professor said. "I don't know how you're playing this trick here, but someone speak up. Who is it?"

     The students looked around at each other, confused.

     "They just fell off the desk, that's all." A boy sitting a few rows in front of you said.

     "I literally teach physics, there is no way objects just fly feet away at a stand still." He replied, shaking his head. All while he was interrogating the class, Kai was right behind him, his hand going up to the professor's hair. You wondered what he was doing until you saw the professor's hair like gradually go back. You widened your eyes as you noticed he was wearing a wig, and Kai was revealing a bald head to the class.

     You subtly shook your head at him, telling him to quit it before the professor would become embarrassed.

     "Never in my 20 years of teaching have I taught a rowdy and unhinged class like you lot." The professor said. "All I want to do is teach the wonders of physics, and you guys have played silly little pranks on me since the semester started."

      You watched as Kai slowly but surely continued to drag his wig down, and you heard quiet snickers from the class.

      "Uh, prof, your hair...?" Someone pointed out, interrupting your professor from his rant. At that moment, the wig completely fell off, plopping down to the floor. Your professor was quick to cover his head, and you were sure this was his breaking point.

     "That's it, everybody, get out!" You yelled. "Class is over for today, no one e-mail me for the rest of the week."

     Everyone hesitantly got out of their seats, mumbling and chuckling about what had happened.

     "...not even our fault..." One said.

     "At least we're out of class early." Another one said.

     You gathered your things as you made your way out of the door, feeling a bit sorry for your professor.

     Once you were out in the courtyard, Kai appeared right next to you, walking alongside you.

     "That was funny, wasn't it?" He asked with a proud smile.

     "A little bit, but you embarrassed the poor man." You said, looking up at your blonde friend.

     "He'll be fine." He shrugged. "At least you got out of class early. We can eat ramen and watch the drama we started yesterday, right?"

     "Uh, you mean I can eat ramen." You said, watching as a group of friends looked at you weirdly. You were used to this, though. The way people would look at you as you talked to yourself. It's just what you became known for. You didn't need friends anyway when you had Kai.

     "You know what I mean, silly girl." Kai chuckled.

     "Even if I wanted to, though, I can't." You said. "I have homework to do."

     "You've been doing homework almost everyday of your life, let's take a break." He said, stretching his arms out as you approached your car.

     "Hm. I'll think about it." You said, getting in the drivers seat. Kai was already in the passenger seat, ready to always go wherever you go and always be where you wanted him to be. Someone who wasn't imaginary couldn't do that.

"Okay, then I hope you think too hard so you'll get burnt out." He said with a sweet voice.

"This guy is weird..." You mumbled to yourself, starting your car and making your way to your house.

———————————

"(Y/N), we're going out for the night, watch the house for us." Your mom said, slipping on her jacket.

"Where are you going?" You asked, a frown pulling at your face.

"Your dad rented a table at that restaurant I told you about." She said. "Y'know, the five star one?" You could tell she was excited as she checked her makeup in the mirror by the door.

"Ah..." You nodded. "Well, have fun." You said.

"You won't be completely alone, right?" She asked. "You have...Kai." Even through all of the years of you having an imaginary friend, she still seemed awkward to bring it up. Your dad still refuses to believe that your friend is just imaginary, and he insists that you go to a doctor, to your dismay. Your mom, on the other hand, was at least trying to come to terms with the fact that Kai was with you at all times.

"Yeah, you have Kai." Kai said to you, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes turning your attention back to your mom.

"Ah, he's coming." She said, heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. "We'll be back in a few hours. Bye, sweetie."

Your dad gave you a wave goodbye as he followed her out of the door. You watched them get in the car and drive away, leaving the driveway with only one car. You turned your head in confusion once you heard Kai sigh.

"You wish that was you, huh?" He asked. "Going out on a date with your boyfriend. Oh wait, you don't have one. That sucks."

You sucked your teeth, walking around him on your way to your room. "Go away."

He appeared at the top of the stairs before you even got there. "I don't want to. And besides, you'd be scared to be home alone. How cute."

You ignored him, making your way to your room and plopping yourself down on your bed. "You know what? I think I am going to give myself a break from homework."

"Yes!" Kai cheered. "Get the ramen, let's watch My Name."

"I actually want to have a self care night." You said. "I've been feeling ugly lately."

"You're not even ugly though." He said, squinting his eyes to look at your face. "Okay, maybe just a little bit."

Your jaw dropped and you reached for a pillow to throw at him, but he quickly dodged it with a laugh.

"Die!" You said, getting up and going to the bathroom. You shut and locked the door behind you as a means to keep him out. Yet when you saw him in the reflection of the mirror, you remembered that locked doors didn't stop him. You groaned at him and he held his hands up in surrender.

"What, are you going to actually use the bathroom or something?" He asked. "I've seen you pee before, anyways!"

"Kai, don't say that, that's embarrassing!" You yelled at him.

"I've seen other things, too." He said, and you raised the brow. "My little mouse clicker." He giggled, furiously rubbing your tummy.

"Huh? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" You asked in genuine confusion.

"Nothing." He said. "Go on with your self care. You go, girl!"

———————————————

Your parents had come back home hours ago, and it was almost the AM times, yet you still weren't asleep. You had stuffed yourself with multiple bowls of ramen and gave into watching the drama with Kai. Now you were alone and in your dark room, trying to sleep.

Since it was hard for you, you figured Kai could help out.

"Kai?" You called out quietly to the air.

"Yes?" He appeared right beside you on the bed, facing you so that you were face to face.

"If you're imaginary...how come I can touch you?" You asked him. He didn't answer for a few seconds.

"I don't know." He said. "You ask that question all the time."

"Yeah, but just in case you get an answer one day, you should tell me." You said. Kai chuckled, his hand coming over to rest on your cheek. "See...you can touch me, but your hands are so cold."

"And your cheeks are so warm." He said. You flicked his hand off of you, feeling slightly embarrassed that he had caught that. "What?" He chuckled.

"Nothing." You said, thinking of ways to change the topic. "I can't sleep."

"Mm." He hummed. "Would you like for me to sing you a song?"

"Yeah..." You said. And with that, he started to sing softly. It was a lullaby that you have never heard anywhere else. It was something that seemed to be his own creation, and he had sung it to you since you were a kid. He had an amazing voice, one that made you feel warm every time you sang. You were on the verge of falling asleep when the song stopped, but you wanted to ask a question. "Are you a ghost?"

"Go to sleep, (Y/N)."

"Okay."

———————————————

      You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a completely different place than when you fell asleep.

      The place you were in was dark, yet you stood in front of a red carpeted isle lined with lit torches. On each side of the isle, there were...things. Things that scared you. They all stared at you, skin red and scaly, hooves for feet, and horns adorning their heads.

      We're these...demons?

      Then you felt the sensation of your body moving on its own. That's when you noticed the black and red dress you had on, the style being victorian. You had a bouquet of dead roses in your hands, and a black veil covering your face. Your feet moved forward and your eyes were wide, trying to decipher what was going on. You looked forward to see a man in all black at the end of the aisle. Was this a wedding? It had to be some weird type of wedding. How did you come to a wedding? And were you the bride?

      You wanted to stop moving and at least try to make sense of what was going on, but you had no control of your body. The only thing that seemed to be misplaced was your brain.

      Soon enough, you met up with the man at the end of the isle. Once you got a good look at his face, you noticed that you knew him. He was Kai.

      You looked at the person beside you, seeing that they were completely covered in all black, and you were unable to see their face. They then started to speak in a language that you've never heard of before. It didn't sound similar to any other language.

      You looked back at Kai, noticing that he shared some of the same features as the audience. Horns on his head, deep black eyes, a sinister aura.

      This had to be a dream. You were in some wicked wedding with your imaginary friend, surrounded by demonic beings. This was definitely a dream.

      You suddenly opened your mouth, and you spoke in this unknown language. After a short sentence, your mouth shut once more. A few seconds later, Kai said that same sentence.

      The whole time, you were just thinking...what the hell? Kai reached to raise your veil, folding it over your head to reveal your face. You noticed how he was getting closer and closer to you, and you suddenly felt as if your body was unlocked, and you dropped to the ground before he could get closer.

      You gulped, and you were sure you looked like you were almost frightened to death. This was a weird dream, how could you not be? You got up from the ground, and just like you wanted to do, you ran off to wherever you could go.

      "(Y/N)! (Y/N)!" You heard Kai call after you, but you continued to run as fast as you can with the heels that adorned your feet.

      "Wake up, (Y/N)." You said to yourself as you ran. "Wake up, (Y/N)! Wake up!"

——————————

      You woke up with a flinch, being greeted by the bright sunlight. You squinted your eyes, looking around to see that you were in your room. Kai was nowhere to be found, which was weird, seeing that he was usually the first thing you saw every morning.

      "What a weird dream..." You muttered to yourself, getting up to start the day. You were feeling a bit more groggy than usual, your feet dragging across the floor.

      When you were going to brush your teeth, your toothbrush somehow slipped out of your hand, dropping onto the floor.

      "Ah- ew, oh my gosh." You groaned, picking it up and running it under the water. You didn't mean to be dramatic or anything, but you were sure the day was getting off to a bad start.

      After brushing your teeth, you quickly got ready for your class, slipping on your glasses and grabbing your bag. On the way downstairs, you tripped a bit, but you said yourself with your grip on the railing. The one thing that couldn't be saved was your glasses, as they fell off your head and you accidentally stepped on them, cracking the lense.

      "Dammit..." You muttered to yourself, checking out the damage. You sighed, knowing that you'd have to get them repaired if you wanted to use them. You guessed that squinting at the board during class wouldn't be too bad.

      And...

      You were late to class.

      You stumbled into your class room, probably looking like you had just run a mile. You couldn't possibly miss the lecture for today, it was important. On your way to class, there was something wrong with your radio, and it kept switching stations randomly. When you weren't paying attention and trying to change it back, you had missed a green light.

      And you ended up sitting at a red light for twenty minutes straight, causing you to be late for class. You didn't know what was up with your luck, lately, but today was horrible so far. You thought that maybe it was because Kai hadn't shown up, yet. Kai was with you everyday, and the day that he doesn't show up, everything goes wrong.

      You struggled to take notes during class, your mind drifting over to Kai and your dream from last night. Kai was rarely in your dreams, but the one times he shows, it's you getting married to him. You felt a slight pinch of regret, wishing that you had let him kiss you in your dream. But at the same time, it felt so weird. He was imaginary. It's insanely weird to have a crush on your imaginary friend. Your parents already think you need help as it is.

      You just wished that Kai was real. He'd be perfect for you. The perfect boy. It's sad how that's only possible in your imagination.

————————————

       After a long day of classes, you found yourself back home and in your room. Surprisingly, you were alone. You called out to Kai a few times, wondering why he hasn't immediately shown up like he usually did.

      "Maybe...maybe I am too stressed." You spoke to yourself. He was apart of your imagination, right? So, it would make sense that you couldn't bring him up when you were too stressed.

      You heard a knock on your door and your mom peeked in.

      "Hun, your dad isn't going to be back for a while." She said. "He's getting good business for the week, so he'll be super busy. If this works out for him, we'll have a celebration this weekend." She did a pumping motion with her hand while she smiled big. "Ah, also, could you go grocery shopping for me, tomorrow? I don't have time to do it, but I have a list."

      "Sure." You answered, knowing that you were rather busy tomorrow, but you didn't want to make her angry.

      "Great, thanks." She said. "I'll leave the list on your dresser." She placed a sheet of paper on your dresser, then she left the room.

      You sighed, remembering how badly you wanted to move out. Grocery shopping for the family every now and again wasn't bad, but sometimes, your parents treated you as if you were a sort of maid. They went out and had fun without you a lot, they found slick ways to talk down on Kai and how you were too old to have an imaginary friend, and much more. They say they're not ones for drama, but it seems to just be something they enjoy.

      The only way you could even cope with it was by talking to Kai. He's been their your whole life, and even though he was quite bothersome sometimes, he was your bestest friend in the world.

      "Kai?" You called out, waiting a few seconds even though you were sure than he wasn't going to show up. You were a little down about it, but you decided some relaxation was going to fix that. So, for the rest of the night, you watched "My Name", hoping that Kai would show up right in the middle of it.

      But he didn't.

——————————

      A week later, you found yourself walking into your home to the smell of dinner. It was a rare occurance, but you assumed that your dad's business for the week had gone well. You made your way to the kitchen where your parents were playing music and chatting happily while cooking.

      "Oh, hey, (Y/N)." You mom said once she saw you. "It's about time you came home."

      "Today, we're celebrating 20 years of excellence!" Your dad said, holding up a glass of wine. "And yet another successful week at Kim Tech."

      "Cheers to that!" Your mom added on.

      "That's great." You smiled. "What are you guys cooking?"

      "We're cooking some steak, as our main course, with some mashed potatoes, corn, and a strawberry cake for dessert." Your mom said. "And your dad is inviting some of his coworkers in a bit."

      "Ah..." You nodded, leaning on the counter as you watched them cook. You felt a little sour. They celebrated a good week for them, yet you only had stress from one of the worst weeks you've ever had in a while. Accident after accident kept happening, and it was like your luck just wasn't caring about you. You had broken down multiple times this week, and yet you had no choice but to celebrate. Of course you were grateful, though, the whole reason you were able to go to college is because of the money that Kim Tech brought in. It was a blessing. It would've just been more of a blessing if Kai was there.

      While your parents were distracted by telling stories of when the company started, you noticed that the grease in the pan was smoking a bit. You weren't sure, but you thought it may have been too hot. You were about to tell them, but you noticed the glass of wine right next to the stove and how it was slowly but surely moving. You squinted your eyes to make sure you weren't seeing things, but you weren't crazy. The glass was moving closer and closer to the hot grease and before you could react, it tilted over the pan, breaking as the wine fell into the grease. The pan suddenly bursted into flames, pieces of glass dropping onto the floor.

      Your parents yelled out in surprise, trying to back up from the flames, but your dad was a bit too late, his sleeve catching on fire. In a panic, he accidentally stepped on a sharp piece of glass, and he yelped in pain.

     "O-Oh my gosh, (Y/N) call the fire department!" You mom yelled at you as she tried to help your dad. Your mouth was agape and panic set into your veins as you tried to get it together. You ran to your bag, fetching out your phone as you quickly dialed the fire department, the reflection of your dad engulfed in flames in your frightened eyes.

————————————

      "...first degree burns on most parts of the exposed body, yet there are some second and third degree burns..."

      "...needs to go in for immediate medical care..."

      "Will he be alright?"

      "He'll be fine..."

      "He's just in a lot of pain right now..."

      The red lights blinked on and off, shining on your house, the black soot even showing outside of the windows. What was just a grease fire turned into something worse, half of your downstairs home burnt into ashes. You looked at the house, tears filling your eyes. You wouldn't say you were necessarily sad, but you got the feeling that it was your fault. Maybe you've been passing around your bad luck, or maybe it's just been following you wherever you went. This time, your house and your poor father were the victims of it.

After making sure your father was alright, he was driven to the hospital to be taken care of. You guys had to live in one of the vacation homes not far from where you lived until the renovation was complete. Much to your dismay, this house was further away from your school, and you knew it would be costly to go back and forth. You could just not go to class for a bit, given the circumstances, but you knew that it would hurt your grade, and you were not willing to let that happen.

————————————

Pulling up to the vacation home, which was nestled right by the beach, you felt that living here for the time being was wrong. It was a vacation home for goodness sakes, a home where you could go to relax and have fun. Nothing was going to be fun here while your dad was in the hospital. You couldn't even bring all of your essentials due to you not being allowed to go back into your house.

Your mother insisted that you go get settled into the vacation home while she decided to stay overnight at the hospital with your father. You didn't even have a chance to visit.

You sighed, getting out of your car and unlocking the front door to the house. It was dark, as it was still night time, so you turned the light on, looking around.

Your family hadn't used the vacation home in years, everything being left in the same place as it was the last time you came here. It wasn't a huge home, as there were two small rooms attached to one big room which had the kitchen, the living area, and the dining area. There was a balcony that was in view of the large beach behind the house which reflected the moonlight beautifully. You forgot how beautiful it was here. You just wished that you weren't alone.

You made your way to the room that you always occupied. There was a queen sized bed and a dresser, as well as two large windows that faces the beach. You guessed that maybe you did need to be here, so you could finally relax. But right now, your body only craved one thing. And that was to cry.

Now that you were all alone, you really had no other choice but to finally let it all out. You sat on the bedC your back to the head board as you sobbed, your head falling forward on your bent knees. You couldn't believe this week could get any worse, and it felt so relieving to be able to just cry. You weren't sure if crying would help, but in this moment, it just made you feel good.

With your eyes shut tight and tears streaming down your face, you didn't notice the presence of a certain someone until you felt a gentle touch on your back.

You slowly lifted your head, making eye contact with Kai as he tried to comfort you.

"Kai..." You mumbled. "Where have you been?"

"U-uh, imaginary friend world." He smiled.

"Not funny."

"Sorry..." He looked down. "Are...you okay?"

"No." You shook your head. "This whole week has been a disaster. It just had to end with my dad being in the hospital."

      He didn't say anything for a few seconds, then he spoke. "I-I'm sorry..."

      "What do you have to be sorry for?" You sniffled. "It's just my bad luck. I guess it passed it onto my parents."

      "No, that's not it." He said quietly.

      "Then what is it?" You looked at him. "Why is it that the minute you're gone, everything goes awry? I must've just been too stressed and then...I don't know."

      "Don't blame yourself for this, (Y/N)..."

      "Then who else is there to blame?" You asked, getting frustrated. "For almost everything bad, there's at least one person to blame. Who's else fault is it? My mom's? My dad's? My dad had one of the best weeks of his career, while I had the worst. And all of a sudden, when I'm in the picture, the house catches on fire."

      "(Y/N)." He said, and you heard a weird undertone in his voice. Almost like he was...ashamed? "Please don't get too angry at me, but...the bad things that happened this week...that was my fault."

      "Huh? What do you mean?" You asked. "You weren't even here..."

      "It's going to be hard to explain, and I don't know if you'd be able to handle it, but yes." He said. "Everything that's happened was my fault."

      "...including the fire?"

      "Y-yes...including the fire." He looked at you with wary eyes. You gently but surely pushed his hand off of you, your face going stone cold.

      "Explain."

      "It's not easy to explain, y-you're going to see me differently-"

      "Aren't you a figment of my imagination?" You furrowed your brows and frowned. "What other way could I see you?"

      "That's the thing, I'm not a figment of your imagination." He said. "I never was, and I never will be."

      "...what?"

      "It's possible for me to be seen by only you, but it's also possible for me to be seen by anyone else and not seen at all." He said.

      "Then...what are you?" You asked.

      He gulped before answering, a shifty look in his eyes. "I'm a d-demon."

      "You're lying." You said. "T-that can't be true. It must be a trick."

      "Well, that's kind of my specialty. I'm a trickster demon. It's the truth." He looked down. You looked at him, trying to see if he could be lying. Weirdly enough, he seemed genuine.

      "So, is that why you tricked me into believing you were just a figment of my imagination?" You asked, a hint of venom in your voice.

      "(Y/N), it's not like that." He said. "Stop making it seem as if I'm your enemy."

      "Friends don't make other friends days worse, Kai. Friends don't light other friends' houses on fire, Kai." You said. "Those are things that enemies do."

      "I admit, I was wrong for doing those things." He said. "I never meant for it to go that far. I was just...I was angry."

      "Angry at who? Me? What could I have possibly done?"

      "You don't understand, (Y/N)."

      "Then help me understand." You said. "If not, then...then you can just go back to hell."

      He looked at you in silence, a frown pulling at his face that made you feel a bit guilty for speaking without thinking. Yet, you didn't take it back, as you were still angry at him.

      "We're engaged to be wed." He said, and you snapped your head up, almost mishearing him. "We have been since you were born. You see how big your dad's company is? He...he sold your soul in order to get that big. In order to seal the deal, you must be turned into a halfling before you die."

"A halfling?"

"Half demon, half human." He said. "Lucifer's servant. The only way to do that is to be wed to a demon...in hell."

"So...that dream..."

He nodded his head. "That's the only way I could marry you without you coming out to be too corrupted."

You couldn't say anything, remembering how you ran away from him in what you thought was a lucid dream. You could also feel the fuming rage that you had for your father. He sold his own newborn baby's soul to the devil for some stupid company. For money. Maybe he deserved to burn. It was only a hint of what was going to happen to him when he would eventually get to hell.

"(Y/N)?" He rested his hand on your knee, but you brushed it away.

"What if I don't marry you? Then what will happen?" You asked him.

"Lucifer...he'll devour the souls of the rest of your family." Kai said. "And doom all of you to burn in hell for eternity...including me."

You felt a deep sense of doom inside of you. The anger you had for Kai wasn't strong enough to cover how important he was to you, and for him so suffer just because of your father, you couldn't have that happen.

"What did you mean earlier? When you said something about me coming out too corrupted?" You asked.

"When you go to hell as a human, it...it changes you. I'm not sure how to explain this well, but you won't come out the same." He said. "Yet, of you to go hell in your dreams, you will remain unchanged. A wedding in hell is worse. In order to go back home, you have to be ungulfed into flames...something more painful than you've ever experienced in your life."

"Why would I go back home?" You asked.

"You don't have to." He said. "It's a choice. Just like marrying me is. But, not coming back up here just means that you die at an early age. There's a possibility to just get married and then come back with your life unchanged, apart from the fact that you'd be a halfling."

"What would I be if I don't come back home?" You asked.

"Then you'd just be a demon. Like me." He said, then he frowned. "Do you...do you not want to be here?"

"No..." You said. Kai didn't answer, but there was no explanation needed. He's been with you your whole life and he's seen sides of you that you haven't shown anyone else. You weren't even as close with your parents as you were with Kai. So, he knew your troubles and he knew your stressors. He knew that you'd be much better off not being in this world, as horrible as it sounded. "I'll get married to you. And I'm sorry from running away from you in that dream. I just didn't know what was going on."

"That's my fault." He said, hesitantly placing his hand on your knee, afraid that you'll push him off, yet you didn't. "I should've told you earlier. And I shouldn't have made your week bad...I'm a terrible person."

"No. You're just a demon." You said with a quiet chuckle.

"Ah...it appears that I am." He said with a laugh.

"Will the wedding happen tonight?" You asked.

"It'll happen whenever you're ready." He said. "But I must warn you...when you come with me, you'll die up here. And once you die, you can't come back. Yet if you go in your dreams, you won't die."

"I'll go with you." You said quickly. He nodded.

"Oh, and, please don't freak out, but..." He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

"What now?" You asked, starting to get worried again.

"Well, it's...in order to uh, complete the marriage..." He gulped. "It's required to have a consummation...after the wedding."

"...a what?!"

—————————————————

It took a few days for you to be mentally ready for the wedding. You maybe have not been the fondest of your parents, but you had to find a way to say goodbye, or to at least leave your mark.

Meeting your mom after you went out to relax by the beach, you were surprised by your reaction.

"Hey, (Y/N), oh-" She looked over to beside you. "Who's this?"

You furrowed your brows and looked to the side, seeing the one and only Kai. You knew he was there the whole time, but you don't think he's ever showed himself to your parents.

"Oh, uh...this is Kai. My...friend." You said to her.

"Friends don't get married." He mumbled under his breath, but you judged him with your elbow.

"Kai...?" She raised a brow. You then noticed that you told her the name of your imaginary friend, who was essentially the same person, but she didn't know that.

"Yeah, Kai short for Kaipo." Kai lied, saving your ass. "It's an Hawaiian name."

"You're from Hawaii?" Your mom said, taking off her glasses in awe, and Kai nodded. "Ah, how wonderful."

"Uhm, we have homework to do." You said to her. "So, we're just going to go to my room."

"Oh, alright then." Your mom said. "Study hard."

"We will." You said. "...bye."

"Bye?" Your mom raised an eyebrow and chuckled at your awkward and misplaced goodbye. You then tugged Kai with you to your room, shutting the door behind you.

"That was awkward." Kai chuckled.

"What was I supposed to say?" You asked. "It's all I could do..."

"Did you meet up with your dad?" He asked and you nodded.

"I left him a note." You said, not wanting to elaborate.

"Oh, alright..." He said. "So does that mean...you want to get married tonight?"

     "Y-yeah." You said, a nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew what you had to do in order to get there, and so did Kai. He reached in his back pocket for the orange bottle of pills, hesitatingly giving them to you.

     "I'll meet you there then." He said.

     "Can't you stay with me?" You asks him.

     "No. I can't...I can't watch you die." He shook his head. "That's too much."

     "Ah..." You nodded. "Then I'll see you there...I'll be okay, right?"

     "You'll be fine." He smiled. "When you wake up, you'll be just fine."

—————————————

      Opening your eyes, you were greeted with a familiar setting. You were in the same place as you were when you were in your dream. You were at the beginning of the wedding isle in your black and red dress, the dead bouquet of roses in your hand.

      This time, though, you were happy to be here. You were still anxious and unsure, but you now understood the importance of the wedding, and you were willing to partake in it. You wouldn't have done it if it wasn't Kai. Now, it wasn't weird to have a romantic liking towards him. That was a relief.

      The demons on both sides of the isle watched you, their eyes big and black, with no soul or emotion behind them. At the end of the isle was your soon to be husband, which turned out to be a demon this whole time. Was that good or bad? You wouldn't know.

     You began your walk down the isle, this time, you weren't forced to do it against your will. You didn't want to run, and you didn't want to cower away. You wanted to pull through, and that's exactly what you were going to do.

     Just like in your dream, you faced Kai at the end, and the demon beside the both of you spoke in the language that you still couldn't understand. It didn't matter, though, as you knew by the end of all this, you'd understand everything.

     Kai lifted your veil over your head, revealing your face to him. This was it. This was the part where he would kiss you. He looked at you as if he was asking if you were alright. You weren't sure how you picked that up in his pitch black eyes, but you shave him a small smile to which he returned before leaning in. You shut your eyes right before you felt his soft lips against yours, and then, quicker than you wanted, he parted from the kiss.

     All the fleeting thoughts of kissing Kai finally came true, and it was much better than you expected. It was short and sweet, yet he left you wanting more.

     Yet both you and him knew that soon, there would be more. That sole thought left you zoning in and out throughout the wedding, just imagining what the hell was going to go down.

——————————————

     You were in a room alone, stripped out of your dress and left in a revealing yet classy lingerie set. The room only consisted of a king sized bed and a vanity, where you sat to check your appearance.

     You felt a little weird about it, yes. You've known Kai your whole life, you shouldn't feel self conscious, but at the same time...you've never done anything remotely close to what you were about to do. Kai was just imaginary, but now, you were about to give yourself to him.

     You watched the door, feeling nervous. He was going to enter at any time now, and being alone in such a different place scared you.

     You then heard the door creak open, and Kai slowly revealed himself to you. The two of you met eyes and you gulped, suddenly feeling exposed. You could tell that Kai was at least somewhat enamored by the way you looked, and he didn't do the best job of hiding it.

     "H-hey." He said.

     "Hi." You replied.

     "You look really...really nice." He said, walking closer to you. Sitting down, you noticed how he towered over you, and you stood up to not feel too small, but his gaze still did so. You nearly curled in on yourself, becoming even more exposed.

     "Thank you." You said, looking up at him.

     "Hey, let's not make this awkward." He chuckled. "Let's not think about it too much."

     "How can I not?" You asked, looking down.

     "Oh...does that mean...you've been thinking about it this whole time?" He asked with courage. You were too shy to answer, but he already knew just by the bashful look on your face. "Because I have, too."

     You gulped, looking into his black eyes, seeing no reflection in them.

     "Are you scared of me?" He asked.

     You shook your head.

     "You don't have to lie." He chuckled. "It's okay to be scared. You've never seen me like this. But I'll take care of you. I'll be gentle...if that's what you want." He looked down at your lingerie clad body, his pants becoming tighter. He was needy for you, but he didn't want to make it obvious. But the way you stood in front of him like he's never seen before...it was doing things to him. "C-Can I touch you?" He asked.

     "Y-yes." You nodded, watching as his large hands hesitantly settled on your exposed waist, stiff as ever.

     "You can touch me other places, too." You said, and he almost choked, his eyes going round. "I-I didn't mean anything too explicit...not yet, at least." You chuckled, relaxing a bit more to see that he was just as nervous as you.

     "So...I can touch down...here?" He slowly slid his hands down past your hips, and he gently cupped your ass. You felt your arousal start to grow as you nodded. "Can I kiss you too?"

     "You can do anything you want to me." You said.

     "Don't say that...I might lose it." He nervously laughed.

     "Well...isn't that what we're here for?" You stepped closer to him, close enough that your bodies were pressed together.

     "Y-yeah..." He stuttered, lowering down to slot his lips in between yours. You stood on your tip-toes to reach the kiss, your hands on his shoulders to support you. The kiss started out slowly, something that you could get used to so far. Just like he said before, he was gentle, his hands caressing your skin.

     After a bit, he slotted his tongue into your mouth, and you were surprised to feel that he had a forked tongue. You were fascinated, to say the least, twirling your tongue around his. Yet, just when it started to get heated, you felt the burn of your claves. You were on your toes for too long, and you went down on your flat feet, breaking the kiss. Kai chuckled at you, knowing what had happened.

     "Should we move to the bed?" He asked and you nodded. With his hands on your waist, he guided you backwards from the vanity to the bed, leaning you back so that you were laid down. From this point of view, he could see everything, now, and so could you. His bulge was large against his pants, and that's when you noticed that he was far too clothed for your liking.

     "Can you t-take your clothes off?" You asked him. He looked down at himself, almost as if he was surprised he even still had clothes on. He reached to take off his all black suit, which was a sight that you enjoyed seeing. Soon enough, he was bare before you, all except for his boxers.

     You knew this before, but without his clothes, Kai seemed even more broad than he already was, especially when he hovered over you. If someone was to look from a birds eye view, you'd be completely covered by him. You felt so small, and it heightened your arousal even more.

     Kai attached his lips to yours once more, his tongue immediately meeting yours. At the same time as kissing you, he spread your legs wide enough so that he could fit in between them, and you felt his bulge come right into contact with your clothed pussy. You moaned into the kiss and Kai parted from you, making you feel a bit embarrassed.

     "That was really pretty." Kai said. After hearing it once, he wanted to hear it again, prompting him to experimentally push his hips forward, grinding against your clit. You gasped at the pleasurable feeling, your pussy clenching around nothing. "Does that feel good?"

     You nodded, too scared that your voice would sound too fucked out already. Kai felt his chest swell up with pride as he took a gentle grab of your hips, grinding into you once more. If just grinding into you made you feel this way, he simply couldn't imagine what you'd be like when you'd be stuffed with his cock.

     He leaned over you, keeping a steady pace as he grinded into you. He wanted to savor your lingerie a bit more, but the urge to see your completely naked took over. And he released that urge in a bit of an aggressive way.

     You gasped once he ripped your lacy bra off of you, and he looked at the tattered fabric in his hand as if he was surprised as well.

     "S-sorry..." He trailed off as he caught sight of your breasts, free and exposed just for him. He forgot about your bra, tossing it to the side as he slid his hands up to your breasts to cup them. "You're so pretty." He mumbled, watching as he folding your breasts.

     You were still a bit distracted by the rolling of his hips into yours, but once your felt his mouth suckle around your nipple, you were snapped back into focus. The added sensation made everything more pleasurable, and he closed his eyes, his tongue swirling around your hard bud. You tangled your hands into his blonde hair, your mouth falling agape as your orgasm suddenly hit you by surprise. Your moans got louder against your will, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

     Kai locked his lips, watching as you calmed down from your high wanting more.

     "Fuck, you are so gorgeous." He said, scooting you back on the bed so he could fully hover over you.

     "Kai, I want you." You breathed out, already fucked out. "I want you inside me.”

     "You sure it won't be too much for you?" He asked, an innocent look on his face, yet you knew him too well, knowing he was teasing you. "You came so easily just now, baby." With the added pet name, he tried to make his words soft, but there was the hard undertone underneath that, making you gush in your useless underwear.

     "Please, Kai." You whined, dragging your hand down to his boxers. He chuckled, pulling down his boxers and releasing a long, girthy cock. You knew he had to have something lengthy down there, seeing how big he was, but it was still a surprise to you.

     He went to remove your panties, your wetness sticking to it as he pulled it down. His mouth was watering, seeing just how wet you were. He made a mental note that he was going to eat you out next time. As if in a trance, you noticed him staring at your pussy with hungry eyes, and you felt shy once again.

     "K-Kai, please." You whined.

     "Sorry," He breathed out, hovering over you once more, his tip aligning with your entrance. "Are you ready?"

     You nodded. With that, he started to slowly push his cock into you, and you felt delicious yet painful stretch. It wasn't too painful to where you needed to stop, so you felt him keep going until he had his whole cock stuffed inside of you. He sighed in pleasure at your walls wrapped around him.

      He started to thrust inside of you, slowly but deeply. He bit his lip in concentration while you held onto his shoulders, savoring the feel of his cock inside of you. He picked up the pace, going steady, but not too fast to where you were overwhelmed.

      "Fuck, Kai, your cock feels so good." You moaned out.

      "Yeah?"

      You nodded. "Please go faster."

      "How fast?" He asked. "I don't want to hurt you."

      "You won't hurt me." You said, moaning as he continued to go at a steady pace, and you bit your lip. "I like it fast. You can do that for me, right?"

      You smiled at Kai's surprised face, his thrusts slowing down. He quickly recollected himself, positioning himself to where he'd be able to pleasure you properly.

      "Yeah, I can do that". He said. He started to thrust faster into you, his thrusts gradually becoming faster and harder.

      As your moans got louder, he went harder, you spurring him on, and it got to the point where he was pounding you into the mattress.

     You cursed, holding onto him as you noticed that every thrust pushed you up the bed. He grabbed onto your hips tightly with his large hands, holding you down as he pistoned into you.

     This was exactly what you wanted. For him to lose control. Your wetness was evident, the noise combining with the slaps of skin on skin as well and your moans. He muttered profanities into your ear, using more of his strength to fuck into you to where it was almost painful, but the pleasure always out ruled the pain.

     You were borderline screaming at this point, not knowing that Kai was capable of making you feel this way.

     "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." He whined into your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy. You felt his cock throbbing, even with how fast he was pounding inside of you.

      "Cum inside me, please, I want it." You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist. He nodded against your neck groaning as you felt his cock uncontrollably twitch inside of you.

     Then, you felt ropes of his cum pour into you, paired with his high pitched whine. He thrusted into you, milking himself until his cum was spilling out of you in a mess.

     After he finished cumming inside of you, he pulled out, watching his cum drip out of you. He licked his lips, not forgetting about you. You yelped in surprised once he dipped down, taking your swollen clit in between his slip.

     You moaned loudly, your hands going to tug of his hair as he fiercely sucked your clit, quickly bringing you to your second orgasm. You heaved out moans as you shut your eyes, grinding against Kai's face to ride out your high.

     After you had calmed down, you felt a bit embarrassed at how desperate you were, but Kai didn't seem to care as he kissed you again, a mix of yours and his cum on your mouth. It was filthy, yes, but after what had just happened, that was nothing.

     After the heated act that just took place, Kai rested his head on yours, a lazy smile on his face that you matched.

     "So...it's done now?" You asked him. "You're my husband?"

     "Yeah...and you're my wife." He chuckled. "Now, all you have to do is meet with Lucifer. Then, we'll...we'll be able to be together here."

     "Lucifer..." You muttered under your breath.

     "Are you scared?" He asked. "Don't be. I'll be beside you the whole time, okay?"

     "Okay..." You smiled, and he kissed you again.

     "I can't believe we just did the devil's tango." He giggled, going back to the Kai you've always known.

     "It seems like you want to do it again, huh?" You smirked, feeling his hardness against your thigh. He looked down, laughing as he didn't notice before.

     "It appears so."

——————————————

     Your dad woke up from his slumber, his arms wrapped in bandages from the burns. He had once more day until he was able to be discharged, and he was excited to be reunified with you and your mom.

     Looking at the table beside his hospital bed, he noticed a folded piece of paper that wasn't there before. He furrowed his brows in confusion, grabbing the piece of paper and un-folding it, revealing a letter.

     Dear Father,

I hope you're having a great time with your company booming and all. You know you have to, especially when you know you're doomed to burn in hell. When you get discharged, I'll be dead, but you knew it was going to happen one day, right?

That's all I have to say to you. I hope you love with the guilt that your daughter's dead because of you.

    Love, The Daughter Who's Soul you Sold

[prof-peach]

if i may ask — with prof peach’s family, is there a post kinda explaining the history w them/ who they are/ what they do? i’ve seen a couple things mentioned here and there but i’ve had trouble seeing much beyond vague mentions and was curious!!

I’ve been cagey about it all because it’ll come up in the upcoming comic, and I was hiding some stuff for storyline reasons.

Here’s what I can say so far:

Peach’s mother is the current leader of the family, a matriarch with manipulation skills like you would not believe. She gets you to do what she wants you to do, no exceptions. She’s able to wrap people around her little finger, very charming, but very stern.

Her dad was paid off to join the family, his genes the only reason he was married in. He was cold and distant towards his only daughter. He was once fun loving and lively, but the family broke that in him. He’s a shell of a man now.

Peach has two aunts, both of which handle operations day to day in the family business. One aunt is very outgoing, strong and loud, the other is more reserved, looked at as a weak link in the chain by the others. They both had kids, both boys.

The cousins were all raised in the same house, with the same set of expectations, peach included. The only difference is the other two were boys, and so they were told very early on that they wouldn’t be able to take over the family business, no matter what they did. It’s a historic tradition not to let men lead the family, as once before they led them to near ruin. The trio of kids got on well at the start, friends, played together, grew together, hung out all the time. And then the real work started, peach got pulled away from them more and more, the boys became jealous, angry, afraid. Their relationship broke down, one cousin being brash and aggressive towards her, he wanted to lead the family, and didn’t understand why she didn’t want it too. The other cousin was the weaker and smallest of the three, and the adults always picked on him, he became bitter and twisted, angry that peach or the others wouldn’t stand up for him, wouldn’t help him avoid the scrutiny of the adults. They have not seen each other in near enough 14 years.

There’s grandma, the retired leader, acting advisor, a very harsh woman, critical, heavy handed for someone so old and frail looking. She works with the accounts, makes sure nothings out of place. Her connections are widespread and questionable, methods-very old school.

Grandpa, watches everything, always observing. If you think you got away with something, odds are he’s seeing and is telling someone else, so you get in trouble. Very quiet guy, very unnerving.

And one remaining uncle, a man who apparently left the family, and wasn’t killed for it. No one’s seen him in years, and information is very sparse on him and what he was like.

The family business is fronted by a farm, people in the community like the family, they see them as honest good folks, who invest in local communities, appear at all the parties and offer great generosity, helping those around them. For a price. They have hands in all the big-wig pockets, and know how to twist political arms to get the maximum out of their deals. Peach’s people have moles in police, government, and many other important businesses, rangers included. Their work puts them square in the middle of supplying monstrous Pokemon to war lords and “private security”, the farm front means no one notices when several milktank go missing to feed the nightmarish Pokemon they breed and train in private. Their methods are harsh and cruel, and whatever doesn’t meet their exacting standards, feeds something bigger and meaner. They are the manifestation of ‘wolf in sheeps clothing’, very devious, very evasive, very manipulative.

After they strong armed peach into the ranger course, hoping she would finish it and come home with useful skills, peach fled the family after a year, after a run-in with actual real poachers, seeing her future in their actions.

She believes they cannot find her. She should know better.

((Right now I’m on a villain AU tangent on the side blog, if you want to delve a little deeper into that hypothetical, search ‘fruit-salad-ship’ just a heads up though, that blog is 18+ and had a lot of stuff that isn’t so Pokemon-y too, so it might not be all to your taste))