cauzukofleascum

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Returning to this years later. I was fine. Give the skinny nerdy villain boy the sweetest wife with the fattest ass

Giving the skinny nerdy villain boy the sweetest most caring wife with the fattest ass 😈

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I'm working...

...on a few new things. I took a long, long break from writing because I simply had no inspiration. I hadn't realized how long that break was... my last update was when I was 19. I'm almost 21. It's been so long...

anyway some gojo fics coming

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I think I should say one last item, I feel as though my writing was not understood- I do not think I can be on here either for awhile.

Please remember not to reprimand others on my behalf, I know the intentions but its not worth your anger and time. I think focus on being kind to others instead, having fun with you and yours! (I will figure it out, do not worry!)

Additionally, my post was not to set new boundaries on work- (What has happened has happened, you know?) It was just writing. Everything is the same, as it is displayed on my pinned post!

Thank you!

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Redrew that sc of dabi with piano teeth

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Sorry updates took so long life has been rough. Working on the mirio date chapter as well as the second chapter to the hawks x reader. I might do some other fandoms, maybe jjk…

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I didnt realize people wanted me to actually update my works. Stay tuned

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No Good Man or Beast (Chapter 2)

The captured dragon’s white-hot terror melted into dread. The dull feeling sent blood rushing to his ears, partially from fear and partially from the humiliation of now being leashed to some strange winged madman who seemed to have a knack for dramatic flair. Ess didn't flinch or show any emotion, but his eyes seemed to fade from that enchanting silver to cold, dull steel. After a moment of too-much hand shaking, Ess pulled his hand away and wiped it onto his pants, "Where are you going to take me?"

Zane noticed the little motion but decided to ignore it, turning on one foot and looking up at the sky. "Now that I have a dragon...we are going to pay the humans a little visit. His wings began to slowly unfurl once more.

“A war weapon, of course,” Ess grumbled, glancing at the ruins of his village before stepping back and shifting to his dragon form. He was hesitant; was the price of his freedom worth the senseless violence to come? ‘Don’t think like that, Ess. You saved your people. Besides, who cares if a few humans die? They’re horrid creatures anyway, no better than bugs.’  The dragon’s thoughts were interrupted as Zane took off into the air, the ground below his paws shaking slightly from the force of the god’s scarlet wings. ‘What a showoff.’ Ess thought, rolling his eyes before taking off after him. 

The flight wasn’t very long, but Ess dreaded every moment of it. He stared at Zane as he followed in his wake, wondering just briefly if he could kill him. ‘No, I’ve made my choice. I should stick to it. Besides, if I fail, that means my entire species dies and their blood is on my hands,’ He let out an exasperated puff of steam. As he mulled and planned and pondered killing his subduer, he was quickly drawn out of his thoughts as a small village, tucked neatly in a valley between two hills, came into their line of sight. 

Banking his wings, the god landed in the tall, green sweetgrass that rolled down the hill and crouched down. Resting his forearms on his knees, he peered down at the village and started to observe its traits. Humans, for a reason unknown to him, seemed to exist in different time periods from each other. He never knew what to expect when he found one of their habitats; some of them were so advanced that their vehicles soared through the air as if they were birds, and others, like this one, seemed to be stuck in a strange suburban era. Women walked around in little kitten heels and flared yellow dresses with gaudy white polka dots while men carried around briefcases filled with who-knew-what. Narrowing his eyes and biting his lip, Zane pressed his armored fist to the ground to stabilize himself as Ess landed behind him. He tapped the ground twice before looking at his newly acquired companion, “How many humans have you killed?"

The dragon himself seemed to be quite out of it, not answering for a moment as he watched children play in their yards and fathers come home from work. ‘What does he want with these creatures?’ He wondered, the corners of his lion-like mouth turned down in a slight frown. Zane realized Ess vaguely reminded him of a Fu Dog. A dawn-pink, blue-maned Fu Dog with pale grey eyes that burned with life and fury. What an odd creature he’d found. Finally, he spoke, his voice hardly above a murmur: “None.”

Nodding solemnly, Zane turned his gaze back to the village. They still hadn’t been spotted. "Well, good luck. I have been watching these humans for a while, they seem to be more advanced than some of the others."

Ignoring his warning, Ess began panting softly before looking over at Zane and beginning to plead his case. “Do I have to kill them? I agreed to stay by your side but I never swore my body to your beck and call.” 

Zane raised a red eyebrow and smirked. "Only if you don't want to die." The amusement vanished from his face as he turned his attention back to the village and pointed down at it. A few steely chains slowly emerged from the ground behind him and loomed over the crusaders like snakes, aiming directly at the village.

The dragon shuddered as he looked up at the chains and he found that he was grateful to no longer be on the receiving end of Zane’s wrath. He let out a huffing noise, a small steam cloud leaving his nose as he hauled himself to his paws. “Fine.”

Zane nodded to himself as he picked the perfect starting spot. Like striking snakes, the chains immediately dove into various places, smashing through buildings and wounding dozens at once. Satisfied, Zane stood up and unfurled his wings, taking a step from the hill and gliding into the center of the villa to make his grand entrance.

Ess stood, spread his wings, and dove into the city, choosing not to follow Zane and heading to the nearest fallen building; a collapsed house. When he landed, he turned to his human form and ran inside, planning to sneak out any survivors while Zane wasn't watching. However, when he went inside he wasn’t prepared for the powerful scent of blood that filled his nostrils. He slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from vomitting. There was no time for sickness, there were lives to save! As he gathered his nerves, a weak voice filled his ears, crying out for help from underneath a pile of broken purlins and trusses. “I hear you,” He called as he searched for the injured person, “Just be patient!” Minutes of throwing off roofing debris felt like hours before he found the deeply wounded young man. There was a wooden beam protruding from the human’s stomach. The man’s voice was weak: "K-Kill me, please.." As the man sputtered he spat blood onto Ess' face, forming a small splatter on his cheek. He reached out and touched the beast’s dusty leather boot, his hand shaking violently as he pulled slightly at the shoe, wanting Ess to kneel down. Without hesitation, Ess kneeled down beside the man and took his hand, "I can help you, just stay still-" The speared man pushed his hand away and grabbed onto one of the large knives strapped to Ess' thigh, looking him in the eye and pleading wordlessly. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ess took out the black bowie knife and slit the man's throat, keeping the cut deep and quick. Blood gushed onto Ess' leg and torso, staining the dark blue fabric of his clothing and overwhelming his nose with the stench of death. He could do nothing but stare down at the body, tears welling up in his eyes but evaporating before they could fall from his lashes. Everything felt surreal as if he was trapped in some sort of horrible nightmare. He hated killing, even if it was just a measly, vile little human. He hated fighting, and the more he thought about what he hated, he wished Zane had never shown up, he wished he was never born. He was startled out of his thoughts as a nearby building crumbled and exploded nearby.

More chains started to tear through the buildings as Zane walked through the city. He smiled gleefully as he took in all the chaos and hummed to himself as his ears were filled with the lovely sound of agonized screams. He looked over at a woman who had survived a fallen building, hardly wounded, and heading toward the town’s exit. That wouldn’t do, the last thing Zane wanted was a survivor. He finger-gunned at the woman and a chain burst from the ground and impaled her through the chest. The chain then shot through the wall of an unnaturally tall house, slamming the gored woman into the wall fast enough to kill her on impact. “Oh, did I miss one?” He muttered as he looked up at the house. The chain started tearing through the building, winding through the floors and shattering each window as it destroyed the infrastructure. Children could be heard screaming, some jumping from the broken windows in a futile attempt to escape from the metallic snake and splattering onto the ground below spewing bright red viscera against Zane’s deep brown skin. He stared down at the pile of mush, once human, that littered the ground in front of him before turning on one heel and walking away. 

The shrieks of children sent Ess into action again. There was no use crying over the contract he’d agreed to. As he tucked the knife back into its holster and scrambled to his feet, he made a beeline for the door, but quickly stopped as a woman appeared in the doorway. They gave each other a once over. The lady’s pink dress was covered in dust and grime, with tears in the fabric and one white glove missing from her dainty little hand, a pink pump missing from her foot. She looked horrified as she took in the bloodstained man with the reptilian eyes and deep blue hair, “Oh…oh my god! A demon!”

 “W-Wait, I didn't-" Ess started, eyes wide as he stepped back and lifted his hands, “I’m not gonna hurt you, please-!” The explanation fell on deaf ears as a man shoved the woman to the ground between them, shouting "Goddammit woman, move!" He hoisted his shotgun to eye level, aiming directly at Ess' head. In a rush of instinct and a burst of wind, Ess turned to his dragon form and swatted the villager away just a little bit too roughly. The man flew into the pile of debris where the other corpse lay, now impaled on a jagged piece of wood. The woman on the ground screamed again, curling into a ball as if that would protect her from the reality of the situation. ‘No, no! I have to get out of here!’ Ess thought, spreading his wings and surging up through the roof of the building. He felt trapped and wanted to escape as quickly as possible. He hadn’t meant to hurt the human, but it was far too late to explain that he was a friend, not a foe.

Zane turned when he heard the clamor of Ess rising through the roof and started to laugh but quickly stopped as a bullet grazed his cheek. Scowling, he crouched down and shielded himself with his wings as bullets flew and fell like hurled stones against his crimson shield. "Pests..." He quickly rushed two of the villagers, using one of his wings to cut one's head off while grabbing the other’s face and slamming his head into the ground, crushing his skull like a watermelon against the cold dirt. Wincing, he touched the blood that dripped from his cheek before staring coldly at the remaining villager that attacked him. The man, who had been dressed in a rather nice business suit, promptly began to wet himself when their eyes met. The feathers on Zane’s wings puffed up in anger as he marched toward the suit-man. The man dropped the gun and tried to run away to no avail. Lunging forward, Zane extended a wing and cut the man’s head off, muttering angrily under his breath. His mood had quickly turned sour and he decided that now was the perfect time to finish the job he’d started.

Meanwhile, in a frantic flurry of fur and feathers, Ess descended clumsily from the sky, turned to his human form, and took off into the shadows as quickly as he could. His natural form was too big to hide, much to his dismay, so he was forced to use his inferior form. The villagers gave chase, shooting at him as he ran to an area of the village with more coverage. Finding the perfect spot, Ess melted into the shadows of a ruined home, hiding just behind the doorframe. His heart drummed in his mouth as his ears strained to pick up the voices of his pursuers: “Where’d that damn demon go?” "No idea. Let's split up and try to ambush her, I think she went that way." "Pretty sure it was a guy." "Is that important? Now, you three go this way, we'll go down here." Footsteps moved toward the building Ess was hiding in. Biting down on his tongue, Ess grabbed his bowie knives and mentally prepared himself to take another life.

Meanwhile, Zane flew up into the sky above the village. "All of you are a plague on this beautiful planet…” He held his arms out to his sides and extended his wings as far as he could, the sky beginning to turn black and angry as clouds rushed to blot out any signs of sunlight. Lightning began to split the abyss above them, thunder booming like the applause of a cruel audience as the wind began to howl tales of Zane's anger. The spectacle caught the attention of Ess’ pursuers. 

"What is-" The villager never got to finish his sentence, Ess had plunged one of his knives deep into the back of his skull, his face contorted into the snarl of a trapped animal. "Wait-!" The gunman cried, aiming at Ess and pulling the trigger. It jammed. Before the man had a chance to run, Ess had already plunged his other knife deep into his belly and pushed it upward, gutting the poor villager like a fish. The third one took off down the alleyway, screaming hysterically for their god to save them. No god answered, only the sickening crunch of a body crushed between steely jaws. Almost immediately, he shrank down to his human form and placed a shaky hand on the wall of the destroyed house while quickly shoving the other hand down his throat, trying to purge the human corpse from his stomach. No use. He didn't want to kill those people, nevermind eat one, but his hand was forced and his instinct demanded he did. Before he could wallow in his dismay, his attention was drawn to the sudden burst of energy in the air, the static so intense that his hair, now a deep violet in certain spots due to the blood of his victims, began to rise and wave in the air. Just as he realized what was happening, a blinding brightness filled his vision and a nearly unfathomable pain surged through his body. Then, he was unconscious.

Lightning descended on the village, igniting houses and zapping any creature the god laid his eyes on. He let out a maniacle laugh as the winds rose and began tearing apart what few buildings remained, snatching up hiding humans and tossing them high into the air before dropping them to their deaths. Bodies rained from the skies, charred and smoking, landing on debris and littering what was once a beautiful little town. It didn’t take long before Zane’s rage was satiated, the winds quieting down their deathly wails and the lightning retreating into the cloudy sky, leaving the god and beast alone in the fruits of their labor. The entire village reeked of blood, death, and ash; and Zane couldn’t be happier. With a careful flap of his soaked wings, he landed and looked around at the mess.

"Well done, dragon. I’m surprised you cooperated so quickly."

Zane’s words were met with the soft drumming of the rain hitting the dirt below his feet. Furrowing his brow and crossing his arms, he called a bit louder: “Dragon come to my side.”

It took a moment, but his companion finally appeared, his heavy paws thumping against the ground and his massive head hanging low. As he approached, Ess shifted to his human form and continued to take weak steps toward Zane. He was burned, clothes were soaked in blood and he had mud caked all over him. When he was in front of Zane, he spoke in a quiet voice: “Have we finished?”

Zane raised an eyebrow when he saw him, a brief look of surprise crossing his face. ‘I must have hit him with my lightning,’ He thought, ‘I should be more careful next time.’  "Yes,” Zane said as he sized him up and smirked. He was surprised the dragon had lasted this long, especially since the humans seemed to give him such a hard time.

Hearing his words, Ess' body suddenly felt like it was made of stone. It hurt to even breathe, his muscles felt like he'd been put through a shredder. Blue spots began swarming his vision and he felt lightheaded. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and the top of his head was burning hot, as if he his hair had been ignited like the houses that surrounded them. The world began to slowly tilt and spin. He only managed to whisper a soft, "Ah, good.." before his bright eyes rolled back and his knees gave out. He collapsed on the ground in front of Zane, just laying there as if he himself had joined the corpses, his breathing was light and shallow. The back of his shirt had been burned horribly and blood was beginning to pearl and spread across the dragon’s brown skin. 

Zane crouched down next to him, watching the blood spread into a puddle. He gently nudged the dragon’s cheek and checked his pulse when he got no reaction.  Seeing that Ess was still alive, though completely unconscious, Zane smirked and lifted Ess in one strong arm.

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Old Comforts in a New World (Togata Mirio x Reader)

Chapter Six: Apologies and Confessions (Smut)

You were awoken by Mirio climbing into bed with you, carefully curling around you into the big spoon position, holding you close. He didn't say anything, thinking you were asleep, just placed a kiss on your ear before finally sitting still. "What'd you get for dinner?" You asked quietly, taking hold of his hand and moving it off of you. "Just Ch*k-F*l-A, I thought you were asleep so I left your food in the fridge," His voice was low, hardly above a whisper, and tinged with confusion, "Did I do something wrong?" You didn't reply, eyes searching in the darkness of your bedroom for an answer to give him. You felt Mirio sit up and give you a bit of space, you were sure that worry was shining in those deep blue eyes of his, those stupidly charming deep blue eyes of his. His hand found yours, "If you're upset, I can give you space." You shook your head and started, "It's not that, it's just..." You took a deep breath, "H-How do you feel...about me?" Mirio let go of your hand, "Hm?" The motion and the reply told you all you needed to know. You swallowed, feeling a lump grow in your throat, your cheeks flushing with shame, and your eyes welling up before you could blink away the tears, "N-Nevermind, get out." Mirio set out a scoff of sorts, "I didn't get to-" "Just get out. I don't want you to use me for sex anymore." Mirio grew silent, listening to the sobs you were trying to hold back. He pulled the covers off of himself and walked away to leave you crying alone in the darkness.

Or, so you thought.

The bedroom's overhead light suddenly flicking on caught you a little off guard. You looked up, your watery eyes resting on Mirio. He was frowning, leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his white t-shirt, legs crossed in his favorite grey sweatpants. He had his hair pulled back in that ponytail you adored so much. He looked upset, concerned even; "Why do you think I'm using you for sex? We haven't even had sex since..what...last week? That isn't fair."

You hadn't thought about that.

You sniffled, a few more tears spilling from your eyes, "I just...I don't know what to think, I don't know how you feel about me anymore." Mirio moved toward you, climbing back into bed and opening his arms, "Well I'm not using you for sex." You hesitated, then moved into his lap, resting your head against his chest as he wrapped you up in a warm hug.

"Then how do you feel?"

Mirio didn't answer for a moment, then spoke slowly, carefully; "I...I'm...I want to show you. I've never felt this way before about anyone."

He carefully lifted you and laid you on your back, moving so that he was positioned over you, staring into your eyes. You gazed back into his, your heart starting to pound in your chest. You closed your eyes as his lips met yours. The kiss was cautious and hesitant as if the two of you were afraid to embrace each other completely. Mirio broke it, sighing, and sat back on his feet. "Y/n, I'm...scared. I want to show you how I feel, but I don't want you to feel used anymore. I can't say it, I don't know why but I just can't, I-I've tried but-" his voice cracked, and he quickly went quiet. You sat up quietly, eyes taking in Mirio's slightly trembling figure, his head resting in his hands. You reached out and placed your hand over his previously injured one, tracing a scar that was left there. He looked up at you, eyes watery, an expression of awe plastered onto his face. "You can...show me if you still want to," you said softly, smiling gently at him.

Before you could blink, his lips were on yours again, his right hand gently cupping your face as he used his left to pull you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands reaching to pull the hair tie out of his long golden hair. He seemed to like this, letting out a satisfied 'Mmm' as his hand moved to your chin to gently open your mouth. His tongue danced over yours, your instincts telling you to put your tongue out. Mirio let out a soft chuckle as he slurped your tongue into his mouth, biting down a little. You let out a soft cry, the foreign feeling catching you off guard, Mirio shifting to press his sex against yours before letting your tongue go and placing a small kiss on it. Your tongue felt like it was throbbing as you leaned back, staring at him, "That's...that's new." Mirio grinned, "I may or may not have been holding back because of my injuries. Plus I really want to show that I..." He blushed, looking down before shaking his head and laying you on your back. He carefully guided your t-shirt off of your body before pausing to take a look at you. His head tilted to the side as he studied your body and suddenly you became aware of every possible imperfection on you. 'Why would that matter now," you thought, 'We've had sex tons of times, so why am I suddenly embarrassed about it?' Mirio smiled, "Sorry, I just got caught up in how beautiful you are." He didn't wait a moment longer to place kisses down the valley of your chest, his hand gently caressing your side before trailing his fingers up to your breast and giving it a rough squeeze. You yelped, flinching a little. Mirio quickly let go and looked up at you, "I'm sorry, tell me if I'm too rough okay?" "Just..gradual, okay?"

Mirio nodded and went back to trailing kisses down your chest to your stomach. He placed his hands on the waist of your pants and pulled them down, tossing them over his shoulder to be forgotten until morning. Mirio rubbed up and down the length of your legs before laying down between them, his warm breath against your pussy leaving your insides with butterflies. You gripped the bedsheets, already aware of how weak you were to his touch, already aware that he wasn't going to be as nice as last time. You squeezed your eyes shut as Mirio used two fingers to open your lips and slowly ran his tongue over your clit. Mirio's tongue dipped from your clit to your folds, his tongue slipping inside of you as he shifted his hand to rub where his tongue had left. He moved to suck gently on your clit, slipping his middle finger inside of you, gently pumping and curling against you, smirking as you gasped and mewled under his touch. You let go of the bedsheets and laced your fingers in his hair, your back arching involuntarily as his tongue coiled around your sweet spot like a snake about to strike. A weak whine left your lips as Mirio pushed a second finger inside of you, your toes curling to endure the pleasure. You began to lose yourself to his techniques, your body tensing up as you got closer and closer to climaxing. Mirio waited until you were almost at your peak, fingers pressing and teasing the edge of your g-spot, tongue drawing tiny circles around your clit, your legs shaking and trembling as you slowly descended into intimate insanity before sitting up and withdrawing from your body.

You opened your eyes and sat up, staring at him, "Wh-..why?" Mirio looked up at you, smiling, "Hm? You didn't think I'd let you off that easy, did you? You still hurt my feelings with what you said earlier!" He turned his head and pouted like his feelings were hurt, but couldn't hold back a rather devious smile. "Buuut," he purred, standing up and scooping you up and holding you by your thighs, "If you say sorry, maybe I'll be a bit nicer to you?" He moved so that your back was pressed against the cold wall, and using one hand he pulled his sweatpants to mid-thigh level, his dick tapping against your pussy. You flushed, "I'm s-" Mirio's hand clamped over your mouth as he slowly pushed into you, his grip on your thigh tightening as he let out a soft grunt. You tried to relax, although no matter how many times the two of you fucked you could never quite get used to that initial feeling. Mirio knew this and let go of your mouth for just a moment to place a quick kiss on your lips, "You alright? I'm sorry." "No, no it's okay, don't worry." You replied, smiling to reassure him. He studied your face for a moment, then lifted his hand to cup your cheek. The sweet moment lasted no more than two seconds before his hand was around your throat and his dick was sliding, slowly, in and out of you.

You dug your nails into his shoulders, eyes rolling back in pleasure as his cock rubbed against your insides, the slight curve upward hitting your spot just the way you liked it. That familiar sound of rushing blood in a muffled world filled your ears, you could feel your heartbeat throbbing in your veins, feel the contraction of Mirio's body as he entered and receded yours like a lazy ocean wave. The slow pace was killing you, you needed him now, now, now! Mirio bent his knees slightly to deepen his thrust. Strangled moans of blissful agony managed to escape from you, stars starting to form in your vision. Not that you cared, the slow, deep, rough thrusts into your body were driving you insane, bringing you to a close climax but not quite getting you off, at this point death would be a blessing.

Mirio's fingers loosened, just enough to let you gasp and cough, to which Mirio reacted with a sadistic smile, "What's wrong, sidekick?" "F-fuck me, fuck me!"

Mirio raised an eyebrow, "You hurt my feelings and now you want me to please you? So selfish. You're a selfish little bitch, aren't you?"

You suddenly seemed much more sensitive to the throbbing torture device inside of you. What was happening? Why did that turn you on?

Your expression must have given your thoughts away, because before you even knew it, Mirio had your face down on the mattress and was towering above you. You turned to look back at him, eyes wide with surprise and fear. Mirio smiled a sickeningly sweet smile and placed a hand on your hip, pulling you back onto his dick without warning. This was new, terrifyingly, electrifyingly new. Mirio started fucking you slowly at first, gauging your reaction. After making sure you were still comfortable, Mirio's pace started to pick up. You found yourself making bitchy, weak gasps, your hands gripping the bedsheets as Mirio's voice filled your ears; "Wh..mm. Where's my apology, Y/n?" With half lidded eyes and a foggy mind, you looked back at him and managed to whimper out a confused "Wha?" You were quickly taken out of your trance when Mirio's hand slapped your ass hard enough to leave a red mark on your brown skin. "S-Sorry!" You yelped, tears rushing to your eyes. "Good job! Can you say: 'I'm sorry Mirio?" He purred, placing his thumb in your mouth and pulling back your cheek just to fuck with you. "I'm shorry Wirio-" Mirio's thrusts got rougher, "A-again, say it like you mean it!" You could hardly process his words, you were too busy letting out moans that mirrored sobs and drooling a rather grody amount onto the pillow Mirio had so graciously allowed you to place your head on while he railed you. You offered another worthless apology, an embarrassing "I'm shorry" as he grinned above you, watching your measly expressions as he finally showed you what he had been holding back for so long.

Mirio removed his thumb from your mouth and repositioned himself so that he was completely covering you, his pace slowing for just a moment. "Ah, Y/n," he started, as if completely oblivious to your whines of pleasure, "Do you mind if I just..?" He wrapped an arm around your neck, holding you gently in a chokehold. "Is this alright?" He asked. You let out a distracted "Uh-huh!" and realigned your hips so that he could penetrate deeper inside of you. "Oh? Sorry, I guess I should go all out, shouldn't I?" He huffed, before whispering, "Tell me you love me and I'll give you what you want~?" Practically hypnotized by the feeling of his tensing muscles, of him pressing deep inside of you, you complied: "I, hah, I love you!"

Mirio's body shuddered as the words left your lips, his chokehold tightened he began thrusting into you at a speed you'd never felt before. You couldn't exactly moan due to Mirio's chokehold, instead, you gritted your teeth and pressed your body as close to him as you could, your hands holding his arm as your strangled breaths came in short little gasps. Your walls started to tighten as he ravaged you, digging your nails into his skin as you tried to resist the urge to cum. Mirio's moans became much more audible, his thrusts rougher, his hold tighter, "Yeah, ohhh god, I love you too, I need you!" Hearing those words leave his mouth brought a lot of mixed emotions, but you had no time to process how you felt as Mirio's dick hit your G-Spot and caused your undoing, the sensation so raw that your foot began to shake from the sheer intensity. Mirio quickly go of you, thrusting as deep as he could as he started to fill the condom. After a moment, he gently rocked his hips back and forth before sliding out and flopping onto the bed. "Next Sunday, you, me, movies," he muttered before snoring like a freight train.

Too tired to clean him or yourself up, you simply laid beside him, panting.

Looks like Mirio was finally taking you on a date.

[cauzukofleascum]

Old Comforts in a New World (Togata Mirio x Reader)

Chapter 5: Mixed, not Fixed

Things with you and Mirio had gotten complicated. Mirio had been coming over practically every day since his return. At first, it was fine, you didn't mind him visiting for a bit, after all, he had just lost his quirk and he was still recovering from an awful battle with a strong villain. Soon, things began to change. Afternoon visits stretched into the sunset, sunset-lit goodbyes turned to nights filled with needy panting and moaning and an odd sense of emptiness as you laid alone in a slowly cooling bed. Even those began to change.

Those steamy nights turned into ones filled with cuddles and warm embraces, and you started to wake up to hot breakfast on the table. He was good company, his food wasn't bad, and quiet nights in his arms served as a wonderful destresser. The problem was, within the two weeks he'd been coming and going, you'd grown feelings for him, despite knowing his...reputation. You'd seen his phone, flooded with texts and Direct Messages from tons of girls. His social media pages, which you totally weren't stalking, were filled with thirst trap selfies, and under those posts were even thirstier girls. Guys too, especially whoever Mineta Minoru was. You were sure that Mirio was just using you as a quick squeeze until he felt better, and you hated that you were letting yourself be used by another hot guy with issues that used sex as an escape. Every time you let Mirio's hand rest gently on the top of your head or his fingers wrap around your waist, you mentally reprimanded yourself. The last thing you needed was another relationship, especially with a playboy like Mirio. You told yourself that you would text him and let him know that he wasn't allowed over anymore, that you needed to sleep alone, that you could cook your own breakfast, but deep down you knew that you couldn't turn him away.

The blonde heartthrob himself strolled into the dining room where you currently sat, typing away at your laptop, filling out the last data figures your company needed so that you could call it quits for the night. "Y/n~," he purred, leaning over your shoulder to place a kiss on your cheek, sending your heart into a whirl of mixed emotions, "I'm going to grab something to eat. Do you want anything?" "Er, no, I'm not really hungry." You said, not looking up from your computer. He didn't move from over your shoulder, he just stared blankly at you, lips pursed, thinking about something. You stopped typing but kept your eyes focused on the computer screen. Silence settled between you two like a cold blanket of air.

What the hell was happening right now?

Finally, he spoke: "You know you need to eat, I always get so worried if you don't eat." He stood up, sighing, and placed his hand on your shoulders. He gently pressed his thumbs into your back and began to massage. You relaxed under his big, warm hands and finally conceded, "Yeah, alright, just something small though." Mirio seemed satisfied with this, patting your shoulder and heading out of the front door.

You shook your head, closing your laptop, and went to shower and put on your pajamas. You climbed into bed and shut your eyes, waiting for Mirio to get back, even if deep down, a tiny part of you didn't want him to come back.

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Old Comforts in a New World (Togata Mirio x Reader)

Chapter 4: Return

It's been three weeks since you last heard from Mirio, and it was driving you insane.

At first, things with Mirio were amazing. Even if the two of you hadn't been on your first date yet, you'd been talking every night for the first two weeks of your budding relationship. You'd seen his bruises slowly heal, his arm come out of the cast and slowly regain its strength and color. His smile seemed to get more genuine, and whenever he smiled your heart gave way to him a little more.

Where had things gone wrong?

Oh, right.

Three weeks ago you'd finally decided to ask Mirio what had been on his mind so much, and why he wasn't at U.A. anymore. For just a split second, you saw despair in his eyes before he showed you a big smile and a lighthearted "Oh, just some personal stuff, just needed a break," left his lips. Before you could press further, Mirio was talking about how exhausted he was from the physical therapy, "Oh man, I'm really tired. Y/n, let's get some rest, okay? I'll tell you about it in the morning." "Okay, just promise you'll tell me the truth?" "I promise!"

The next day, Mirio didn't answer any phone calls or texts. It was like he vanished from the face of the Earth! You sat on your couch pondering this, tapping your foot onto the living room's hardwood floor. Shakily, you sipped wine from a crown-headed wine glass as you gazed at news articles on your phone. Seemed like all was right in the world.

A loud, booming knock came at the door, causing you to flinch and spill wine onto the cream-colored sofa. "Shit-" you cursed, trying to blot the wine up with a paper towel. The knocks came again, thundering against the door, causing you to jump to your feet and head to the door. Would it be cops? Is someone getting murdered? You cautiously opened the door only to find Mirio there, hair messy, clothes dirtied, tears running down his face as he leaned forward and wrapped you into a tight hug.

"Wh-Mirio?!" Was all you could manage to exclaim, reaching around him to hold him.

"M-My quirk," he sobbed, "I-It's gone! They can't bring it back, m-my quirk is gone!"

What? Quirks don't just disappear! Especially not a powerful one like Mirio's, there was just no way in hell!

More importantly, you needed to get Mirio settled.

"Okay, okay, come in, let's sit on the couch and you can tell me about it." You said in your most soothing voice, rubbing his back and giving him a firm pat. Mirio's sobs turned to hiccups as you took his hand and led him to the living room couch. You sat down and patted your thighs, indicating for him to place his head on your lap. He did so, sniffling, hiccuping, eyes red from how hard he'd been crying. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, smiling a little as his body relaxed under your hands. "Want to talk about it?" You asked softly, not wanting to upset him further. Mirio was quiet for a moment, then said:

"Back when I was in U.A., I was protecting a very special little girl from that terrorist Overhaul. When I was trying to stop her from getting hurt, Overhaul's crony shot me with a quick-killing bullet. I...I haven't been messaging you because I was working with a team to get my quirk back. It looks like it'll never happen."

Tears were dripping onto your thighs and Mirio's body started to tremble.

"I'll never...I'll never save a million people."

You gently caressed his cheek, listening intently. 'That's what the radio meant by early retirement,' you thought before finally saying: "Mirio, by stopping Overhaul you probably already saved a million people. Thanks to you he can't hurt anyone anymore." His trembles subsided from constant to the occasional shiver and sniffle. He was listening to you. "You're still a hero, Mirio! Being quirkless doesn't change that. Like M*men Rider from *ne *unch *an." You said with a smile, wiping away his tears. Mirio was quiet until finally, he said: "I don't want to be alone right now. Can I..stay with you?"

"Of course."

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OC Fun Facts

So, I recently thought up a little bit more lore for Esai. I think he's gonna be transmasc. Simply because he has a twin sister that looks exactly like him but with much longer hair (and female secondary sex characteristics). Not to mention Esai does have a particularly round/soft face.

I think one thing I'll keep though is the fact that Esai has a fully functioning c+b. It's my fictional world and I say that fictional bottom surgery comes with fully functioning cock and balls.

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Cloud Dribbles 1

The Maximum Stimulus Episode One

Based on This Prompt

Somewhere on the busy streets of some huge crowded city, a young boy named Sato Keisuke, no older than 17 and no more remarkable than anyone else, walked along the crowded sidewalk carrying a backpack full of textbooks and a pocket full of dollar bills he managed to scrape together from working as a waiter at a crummy burger joint. It was a Friday night, and school had just ended for the year, which meant he had the time to go to the convenience store and buy as many snacks as his money would allow and binge-watch his favorite tv show without worrying about oversleeping for school or dealing with his mother yelling at him over a missed homework assignment. He slung his backpack to the front of his body and wrestled with the zipper for a moment, but managed to yank the bag open and pull out the item that was so dear to his heart: his brand new sound-canceling, ear-suctioning, bass-boosted, four-hundred-dollar headphones that his parents bought him for his birthday, which was two months ago but, in his own words, “A late gift was better than no gift.” Giddy with excitement, he delicately placed the headphones on his head and pressed the jet-black power button. Just turning them on made the rushing sounds of city traffic melt into soft white noise, the type you would hear in the background of a big-city romcom movie where the romantic couple is having a lovely date in a cafe just before some embarrassing catastrophe hits. Not bothering to close the bag, he shouldered it onto his back once more and whipped his phone out of his pocket to turn on some underground band that sang about climate change and the woes of capitalism. The beautiful sound of a shredding guitar coupled with loving, soulful taps of the djembe and the chorus of three angelic voices caressed his ears and serenaded his heart before transporting him into his own world of inspired thoughts. Keisuke stepped through the grimy, creaking automatic doors convenience store.

Before he realized how long it had been, Sato Keisuke had spent twenty minutes humming and dancing in the chip and cookie aisle. He hadn’t heard the owner fussing at him from over the counter and practically jumped out of his skin when the middle-aged man tapped his shoulder. Sato quickly took his headphones off, “M-Mister Garcia, I-” 

“Listen Keisuke, this isn’t MTV and it sure as hell isn’t your own personal music video. Get your chips and get steppin’! I close in thirty! Stop romancing the chips and get to the counter.” Mr. Garcia grumbled, smelling like cigarette smoke and irritation. He waddled back to the sticky checkout booth, opened up the bulletproof glass cage, stepped inside, and glared at the high schooler as he locked it up again.

Not wanting to overstay his welcome any more than he already had, Keisuke grabbed the first few bags of chips that he saw and hustled over to Mr. Garcia’s booth. The checkout process was a bit awkward, considering Mr. Garcia was tearing him a new one over playing his music too loud before shoving the bag full of snacks into his hands. Keisuke put his headphones back on as he stepped outside of the store again, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and started his short walk home. He opened his eyes and stepped out onto the street, not hearing the blaring horn of an out-of-control delivery truck thanks to those sweet, angelic voices telling him about climate change and the woes of capitalism. 

Lucky for him, someone shoved him out of the way. He hit the pavement hard, knocking the headphones off just in time for him to hear a loud thud and the screams of dozens of people. He rolled over and looked back to see what the commotion was and quickly wished he hadn’t.

There was a mass, vaguely in the shape of a body, lying yards away from him, mangled and bloodied and unmoving in the street. Blood pooled from the heap of torn flesh and started to slowly traverse down the warm grey road. People rushed to the corpse’s side, trying desperately to do anything they could to help her. All Keisuke could do was lay there in shock. He couldn’t cry, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even open his mouth to scream in horror with the other bystanders. He could only stare at the person who had exchanged her life for his.

In a strange new world, a woman woke up laying on technicolor-green grass and staring up at a sky that was a little too blue for her liking. She sat up and looked around. Strange boar-like creatures no bigger than housecats grunted and poked around her, their violet eyes staring down at her as if asking ‘Why are you here?’ She was no longer in the busy city she called home, shoving a stupid teenager out of the erratic pathway of an out-of-control delivery truck. A rather handsome man walked over to her and leaned over her face, “Are you alrigh’? ‘S not normal to be sleepin’ in strangers’ cattle fields.” 

“What…the fuck?!”

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𝓒𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓭 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

ALT Text: Cloud Storage Masterlist

Author Introduction

Cloud Dribbles (Random Works)

Cloud Dribble 1: The Maximum Stimulus Ep 1

OC Writings

Esai's Backstory

No Good Man or Beast

Chapter One

Chapter Two

MHA Fics

Old Comforts in a New World Ch 1 (Mirio x Reader)

Old Comforts in a New World Ch 2 (Mirio x Reader)

Old Comforts in a New World Ch 3 (Mirio x Reader)

Old Comforts in a New World Ch 4 (Mirio x Reader)

Old Comforts in a New World Ch 5 (Mirio x Reader)

Old Comforts in a New World Ch 6 (Mirio x Reader)

Slow Dancing in the Dark Ch 1 (Hawks x Reader)

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I wrote this post about a literal time-terrorist. The skinny villain boy is a global, extradimensional, god-killing terrorist. Was I okay?

Giving the skinny nerdy villain boy the sweetest most caring wife with the fattest ass 😈

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Backstory One: Esai Rising

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an OC backstory. I very much suggest you read the tags first. All tw/cw's are there. And there are a lot. The door to the study creaked open and a balding middle-aged man with beady eyes as gold as a hawk’s stepped into the room. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto his night-black robes, glistening like little stars in the faulty light of the candles. He swallowed and licked the beaded sweat off of his lips before speaking, his voice coming out as nothing but air before cracking and breaking the silence.

“Father Saul.”

A man in pure white robes sat at the desk, his hands folded in front of him as indigo plumes of smoke rose from a tiny, horned altar in front of him and caressed his slightly yellowed skin. He opened his eyes, the flames of the candle dancing stiffly in his blood-red eyes. The glare he cast almost made the intruder’s heart stop from fear. He spoke his lip curling slightly with his words.

“Brother Peter.”

Peter adjusted his collar, suddenly feeling as if the tiny white plastic cutting into his throat. He cleared the phlegm from his throat before he spoke, “Forgive me for intruding on your prayer, however, there is an urgent matter that must be handled at once. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but-”

“Ezekiel?”

“Yes, sir. Holding hands with another little boy during your sermon.”

Father Saul stood up and ran a hand through his jet black hair, letting out a deep sigh that was laced with rage. He pressed his hands against the deep mahogany of the desk, leaning forward to pop his wrists. Peter swallowed nervously, “N-Not only that, Father, but one of the nuns found him and that same boy behind the-”

“Do not utter such abominations in this holy room!” Father Saul snapped, “You will not plague my mind…or God’s space… with something so unnatural.”

Peter flinched, mumbling some weak plea of forgiveness as his eyes searched for an exit at his feet. Father Saul sighed once more, pushing air from his nose, as sharp as a crow’s beak, as he walked over to Peter and shut the door. He loomed over the man, a stark 6’3 to Peter’s measly 5’7, the almost-hypnotic scent of Frankincense clouding Peter’s senses as he leaned in and asked: “My brother in Christ, you know we must handle this appropriately. If anyone else finds out that there’s a faggot in the church, things will go very, very, poorly for us.” “What should we do, Father?” Peter asked, his eyes searching the Father’s for an answer. 

“We fix him. So help us God.”

Tucked away in the safety of the clergy house, sleeping as innocently as a lamb, laid little Ezekiel. The bedroom was undecorated, the only evidence that it was used by anyone other than moths was the dying candle burned on the nightstand between the beds he and his twin sister rested in. The door slammed open, and the 10-year-olds shot up, cerise eyes contracting in terror as the silhouettes of angels were cast across their bedroom. Bewildered, the children sat up and stared at the door. Father Saul swept in, the heels of his polished shoes clicking on the tile of the floor as he grabbed the little boy by the front of his shirt and yanked him from the warmth of his nest, ignoring the sharp cry he let out as his back struck the footboard of the bed. “What did I do, Father?! What did I do?” Ezekiel cried as the priest dragged him out of the room, watching as Peter stepped inside and comforted Nadelai. 

The priest didn’t answer, savagely dragging the child along the stone floor to the chapel, tiny scratches appearing on his back where the stones were a little too sharp for his still-soft skin. Ezekiel managed to scramble to his bare feet and keep up with the priest’s quick steps. 

“Father please, tell me–!!”

Ezekiel's sentence was cut off by the sudden large fist of the priest striking him in his mouth, sending him sprawling back onto the cold stone path. He touched his sliced lip as blood dripped onto the steps, staring at his fingers as he tried to process the new red stains rolling down them and pooling into his palm. The moment he turned his head to look up at Saul, he received another strike. He didn’t have time to sob as his head bounced off of the path with a dull thud, his hand instinctively going up to protect his face from a third hit. His vision briefly faltered, the universe flashing by as he tried to stay conscious. His front tooth was crooked. “Father, please..Father…” He mumbled, shaking like a dog, “What did I do?”

Father Saul stood over the boy, seething with rage as he stared down at the thief in his temple, “Do you know the word of the bible, Ezekiel?” His lip twitched with rage as the silver-haired boy mumbled something in response. “Well? Speak!” The man barked, snatching Ezekiel up by the back of his shirt and holding him off the ground. Ezekiel hid his face and whimpered, “Y-Yes, Father! I know the Word!” “Good. That makes this much, much easier. If you know God’s word then you must pay for your transgression.” The Father mumbled, tossing Ezekiel to the ground and wiping his blood off on his white robe. He turned and started walking toward the chapel, whispering a soft prayer of forgiveness. The boy, disoriented and wanting forgiveness, stumbled after Saul.

The Father opened the doors of the chapel and glanced down, looking at the goat of a child beside him, almost wanting to spit out of disdain for him. The child looked up at his Father, eyes full of distrust and confusion. He let out a scream of terror as the man snatched him by the shirt once more and walked him down the center aisle of the church, his little feet kicking desperately toward the ground, frantically trying to stop his collared shirt from choking him. He was tossed against the altar, the pure white wood now smudged with the red blood from the new split in the Goat’s head. Ezekiel whimpered and curled into a ball, his small hands covering the gash in his head, confused at the smooth spot that didn’t feel like hair or skin. He rocked back and forth, starting to feel odd, as if this wasn’t his body, as if he were resting in bed and watching a television show with some pitiful protagonist being put through a horror that a child so innocent could never dream of. He was forced back into reality as he heard the voice of Brother Peter, cowardly and trembling, approaching from the aisle, “Father Saul, I brought what you asked.” Hot blood lined his scalp and dripped down his face as Ezekiel uncurled himself and extended a trembling, bloodied hand toward Peter, the man who found him and his sister. His voice was nothing but a whisper as the blood trailed into his lips, “Peter! Peter, please, please! I’m sorry! I–...” His voice trailed off when he realized what the hawk-eyed man was holding. He watched in dismay as Peter placed the cat o’ nine tails into the Father’s hands, tiny nails hidden in its thick rope knots. Peter glanced over at the Goat, his eyes widening before he turned his back on him. Ezekiel frantically shook his head, ignoring the dizziness he was inflicting on himself out of absolute disbelief. He never thought Peter, such a loving and kindhearted man, would turn on him when he needed him most.  “Ezekiel, do you know what you’ve done?” Father Saul asked, looming over the boy. “No, no, Father…” The boy stammered, staring up at the man in fear.

“Leviticus 18, verse 22: You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.”

Ezekiel’s eyes widened as he realized what this was about, “Father, I…we were only…we didn’t do anything!” 

Saul scowled and grabbed the boy, tearing his shirt off and forcing him to stare up at the white oak altar. “Beg me for forgiveness!” He snarled, lifting the cat o’ nine tails over his head and bringing it down on the unmarked, milky-white back of the little boy.

The pain was incredible. The world almost immediately felt unreal, plunging into slow motion as he gazed up at the altar that towered before him. Ezekiel could feel the knots thud against his back, digging their screws into his back and resting inside of his body for a moment. His eyes continued to lift, peering behind the altar and looking up at the cross that hung over the entire church. ‘Abomination?’ Father Saul yanked the weapon back, the screws tearing deep trenches in Ezekiel’s skin as they slid down his back before lifting once more. His back burned, the yellowish fat on his still-chubby back seeping slightly from his wounds, carried out by the rivers of blood that began to spill down his body. The child screamed, his cry of agony shredding his vocal cords, bouncing from pew to pew before reaching the night sky, so shrill and sweet that farm dogs in nearby pastures lifted their head to cry with him. His bladder loosened against his will, urine spreading across the fabric of his pants and leaking down his pants leg, soaking the holy floors. The boy tried to run, his hands feebly clawing at the pulpit as he tried to pull his body away from his executioner, tears streaming down his face from the pain and humiliation. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the cross, silently praying that an angel would come down and save him. Saul reared back once more, bringing the cat o’ nine tails down on Ezekiel’s back once more. “No, no, no! Father, forgive me, please!” He cried, grabbing at the altar and leaving bloodied fingerprints on the once-pure altar, turning back to look at the man who raised him with pure terror, holding his hands up to protect himself. He felt as if he were looking into the eyes of a demon, ice-cold dread filling his blood as he noticed there wasn’t an ounce of forgiveness in the red-hot eyes that stared back into his own before tearing open his back once more.

He let out another high scream of pain, and again the dogs answered. Blood spilled down his cotton pajamas, staining the waistband and running down to his darkened feet. ‘I’m going to die here!’ The Goat thought, ‘He is going to kill me!’ Desperately, Ezekiel started to stand, his whole body screaming for him to give in as he pushed himself to his feet. The cat came down on his back again, tearing open the muscles and sending an icy-hot jolt through his body as the knots drummed against the exposed nerve endings and forcing his muscles to contract against his will. He instinctively swung his arm back as he wailed, pushing the altar over onto Father Saul. The Priest let out an astonished cry as the altar fell onto his ankle, shattering it to pieces. Peter gasped, running over to Saul and trying to lift the altar. Realizing his chance, Ezekiel forced himself to run, his legs giving out for a moment and sending him sprawling down the steps of the pulpit. “Ezekiel, stop!” Peter called, abandoning Saul to lunge at the child. Ezekiel’s heart almost stopped as forced himself back up and ran, blinded by blood and tears as he ran toward the doors of the chapel and into the moonlight. Peter went to follow but stopped when Saul called out to him. 

“Peter! Come back, let that bastard go.” 

Staring after the child and watching him stumble off down the dirt road into a world he barely knew, Peter sighed and closed the doors, returning to help Saul. 

“Why did we let him go, Father Saul?” He asked as he lifted the heavy altar back into its spot. He cursed, realizing it was broken.

“He’s no longer with us, and praise God for that. No room for faggots here.”

Peter paused, staring at the doors that Ezekiel had fled moments before, “What do you think will happen to him?” Saul scoffed and lifted the golden cross around his neck to his lips, kissing the cold metal affectionately, as if he had served it well. Holding it in his hand, he answered:

“He’ll be damned.”

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Old Comforts in a New World (Togata Mirio x Reader)

Chapter Three: Trying Again

The next morning you found yourself startled awake by a loud snore that made the soft chest you were laying on vibrate intensely. You gently picked up Mirio's arm, which was draped across your body, and moved to the edge of the bed. Mirio was out cold, a string of drool trailing from his mouth to his chin. Shakily, with a pained throb between your legs, you stood up and walked over to the dresser, pulling on a tank top and some pajama pants. Maybe not having a job was a good thing, you had no idea how you would have worked for 8 hours bussing paper from one end of the office to another, there was an awful limp in your gait. You walked back into the bedroom and started to clean up, folding Mirio's clothes and placing them neatly on the nightstand. You picked up the condom, once slick with fluids now dry and flakey, and tossed it into your bedside trashcan. For just a moment, your eyes flicked over to Mirio's sleeping face, and an odd emotional twinge pulled at your heart. Quietly, you left the room and walked into the kitchen to make breakfast.

You were in the process of scrambling eggs in bacon grease when you suddenly felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and pull you against a sturdy body. Before you could protest, a kiss was planted on your forehead and a soft chuckle danced in your ears. "Sorry sorry, I just couldn't resist," Mirio chuckled, "I really appreciate last night." He gave you a light squeeze, then let go to sit at the table. A blush rose to your cheeks, "U-uh, you're welcome, I guess. I didn't think it would go that far, you're smooth as hell, you know?" "So smooth that I can get your number?" You fell silent, the hearty crackle of freshly-laid bacon was the only noise between the two of you. After a moment that felt like years, Mirio gave a half-hearted chuckle and drummed his fingertips on the table, "Too much? That's alright, I can take no for an answer. Should I get going?" "N-No, it's not that, I'm just...unsure if I'm ready. I just got out of a pretty bad relationship, and-" "We don't have to be in a relationship! I'm not looking for one either. Though it would be nice to see you again, don'tcha think?" 

Your heart skipped a beat, and you mentally chastised yourself for it. You were not ready to go through another heartbreak! That last relationship fucked you up, you swore off men for the rest of your life, considered becoming a nun! Then somehow Mirio wandered back into your life with his gentle touch and bright smile and charming voice and sweet eyes and- 

oh hell.

Clenching your teeth with a slight growl, you slid eggs and bacon onto Mirio's plate, grabbed a fork, set it down in front of him and kissed his cheek. "Alright, maybe. But we can't go out til you get better," you huffed. Mirio grabbed your hand, gently, and placed a kiss on your knuckles, gazing into your eyes, "Not a moment earlier?" His voice was sultry and soft, the look in his eyes telling you he knew he had you where he wanted you. You looked away, flushed, taking your hand back, "Not til you get better. I mean it!" You left Mirio to eat breakfast and started changing the sheets on the bed. They smelled like sweat and had a few stains on them, so it was best to wash them now. You wrapped up the sheets, pillowcases and all, into a big bundle and carried it into the washroom. By the time you had finished, Mirio had eaten his breakfast.

"Y/n? I'm gonna go ahead and leave. I've Gata run a few errands." He chuckled, finding his overused joke quite amusing. You made your way to the front door, which is where Mirio stood, phone in hand. Rolling your eyes but unable to hold back a smile, you faked annoyance: "Ugh, I guess you can have my number." He handed you the phone and you added your number to his contacts, doing a quick glance over his contacts. Lots of other girl's numbers. Great. Mirio noticed the look on your face, and leaned down to kiss your forehead, "They're just classmates, I promise. Mwah-" You put up a hand to his lips, "We'll see, Mirio..." Pouting a little, Mirio gave you a quick hug goodbye and left to whatever adventure the day held for him.