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#i need to work on it a bit more .some of his spots are out of place and his paws kinda dont make sense
citrustan · 1 day
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dating girl (jjk)
pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: you try to convince yourself that you're really okay with 'casually dating' your crush.
genre: college au, fwb kinda thing but more than friends ygm? angst!
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"Are they allowed to cancel an entire day at college? That can't be good for anyone..." Your mother ponders out loud as you walk around the city hand-in-hand.
"There's not much you can do if someone decides to paint over every projector lens on campus." You nod.
"Lucky for me, I get to spend time with my little baby," she nuzzles her nose into your hair, squeezing you in a side-hug, "Still can't believe we have to schedule our hangouts now."
"Yeah, there's that..." You smile half-heartedly.
You stop near a flower stall, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city. It's especially crowded because of your university abruptly cancelling a bunch of classes.
After your day had freed up unexpectedly, you had invited your sorta but not really boyfriend, Jungkook, to go cafe hopping to find where all the good teas are because you knew he'd bee available. But he never responded.
So your mood has been a bit damp all day.
You had just stepped out of this store that sold handmade sweaters and yarn balls. Not even a good shopping spree could lift your spirits.
What definately doesn't help is randomly seeing said sorta but not really boyfriend who didn't respond to your texts out and about with some leggy blonde girl.
You've never seen her around.
Not that you know every single person on campus, but if they've crossed Jungkook's path, you know them.
They're dining together al fresco, at one of the cafes you had literally listed in your text to Jungkook.
Talk about a slap in your face.
For a second, you think she might just be his sister or something.
That thought bubble is quickly shot at with a razor sharp arrow when you see him kiss her knuckles.
Your eyes involuntary darken, and your mouth forms a pout. The kind one has when they're trying to hold back a cry or a sob.
All the while, your mother had talked about your grandparents' separation, the local diner having caught fire, and matching mother and daughter shoes she had bought for your birthday.
You were listening passively so you didn't quite catch everything.
"You're still seeing him, aren't you?" She tilted her head in confusion.
When your mother notices the look on your face, she frowns, following the line of your vision.
At spotting Jungkook and mystery girl, she gasps angrily, "Oh, no, he sucks." She turns back to you, "Honey, I'm so sorry."
"No, mom, this is normal," you smile weakly, "And it's okay."
"Yes." You nod, "I am."
"But then he's there," she points at the pair with her chin, "seeing her. How's that okay?"
"It just is, mom! Really," you attempt to convince your mother (and yourself) that you were 100% fine with witnessing Jungkook out with other women. "We're keeping things casual. Very... casual."
"And that's a mutual decision?" She confirms.
"We both agreed." You concur.
Your mother's still unsure about your choices. "Well. Okay then."
You glance at Jungkook and mystery girl one last time.
The picture isn't pretty. He's leaning into her ear and has his large hand placed over her bare thigh as she caressed his arm with her much smaller hand, thoroughly enjoying his attention.
Your mother watches your expression go stiff, "So, how does this work?"
Snapping you out of your daze, she pushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes.
When you frown at her she sighs, "Sorry..."
"Oh. Um..." You exhale, "Well, we see each other and we see other people, and that's that. We're cas-" - "Yeah, casual, I heard." Your mother interrupts your blabber.
"It's ok." You look down at your feet, kicking a few stray pebbles out of the way.
"I just--- I thought you guys were sleeping together." She blurts.
"Mom!" You exclaim, looking around to see if anyone had heard her, "It's not that big of a deal. I want this too. And I need to learn to date too."
Again, you try to ease your mind about your decision.
You lightly cringe and look around, "Uh... Nobody yet. But this guy from one of my extras--- his name's Hoseok but we call him Hobi, or Hoba, depending on how close you are to him--- anyway, he asked me out to a halloween theme party next week."
"So who else are you dating?" She asks pointedly.
This is suddenly getting very exhausting.
Your mother gives you a knowing look, deciding to play along anyway, "Oh! You've never mentioned him before."
"Mhm. Because it's new." You hunch your shoulders nervously.
The party was hosted by the student body to raise funds for, you don't know, collegiate stuff.
You had imagined going with Jungkook, with matching Dentist and Tooth Fairy couple costumes. But he hadn't asked you yet and you definitely weren't going to bring it up first.
Maybe you can do the look with Hoseok instead.
It's less than a week away, so you're not expecting anything from him either. He probably already has another date lined up.
You wonder if it's the blonde he's with now.
"So, are you gonna do it?"
"Do what?" Was she in your head?
"Go with Hobi or Hoba." She makes air quotations for 'Hobi or Hoba.'
"Oh, yeah. Yep. Definitely." Suddenly remembering, you add, "Oh and can you make me my costume? I want to be the Tooth Fairy?" You softly ask her, knowing it's a little last minute, but also knowing she wouldn't deny you.
"Why of course! Does... Hobi need a costume too?" She asks carefully.
"Oh, no. Probably not." Well, you don't know. You don't know if his offer even stands now and you might end up not going at all.
Your mother rubs your shoulder, "Ask him and let me know, 'kay?"
You force out an uncomfortable smile and nod, "Thanks."
Although your mother's not convinced, she decides to drop the topic all together.
"Well, that's good," she smiles down at you warmly, "Do you want to get that sweater exchanged?"
It was vague, but you appreciated her attempt either way.
"Mhm. Back to the store we go." You narrate with an airy laugh.
Your mother was in the lead, already making her way to the store you had just walked out of.
Once again, your gaze falls on Jungkook and his date, and to your surprise he was staring right back at you.
You want to give him a little smile. To show him you're unbothered. But you couldn't seem to force one out this time.
So you settle with giving him a small wave, which he returns, mirroring your expression.
His date follows his line of sight and spots you too, giving you a tight smile. It's not passive aggressive, just... decent. Not polite either. But why should she be?
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Jungkook blinks at you as you hurriedly leave trying to keep up with your mother.
Maybe you should focus on Hoseok for now.
note: nobody asked for this but i was feeling a little silly :p needed some angsty ouchie with the possibility of a favourable conclusion so i indulged!
hey bonus points if you can tell what inspired this! and if you read all this lmk what you think regardless :D
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imagine logan seeing you again, pt.3
logan x reader
summary: In his universe, Logan and you were in love. Then you died. Now he’s in a different timeline and you are very much alive.
warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words. THIS PART IS UNEDITED SORRY
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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The air smelled like cigarettes and regrets, the perfect kind of bar for Logan Howlett. He walked in, tugging at his dark jean jacket. The place was dark sans a few overhead lights here and there, but he spotted you instantly at the bar. With your back to him, he watched as you slapped the counter several times. At first he thought you were made but he noticed the way the bartender was laughing. He moved closer to see what was going on and walked into the tail end of a story. “...and then Wade shit his pants! It was amazing.”
“I did not!”
Logan hadn’t noticed Wade next to you but the merc grew louder in trying to defend himself. Slightly amused, Logan ordered a beer and watched the pair of you go back and forth until you finally noticed him. You smiled and a hand fell on his shoulder as you stood up from the stool. He recognized how wasted you actually were and without thinking, caught you by the waist. “So you’ve been here for a while, I take.”
“Only like thirty minutes,” you mused, plopping back down onto the stool. Logan smirked and chugged down the beer placed in front of him. He was a certified drinker and the beer was basically water for the man. It felt good. He hadn’t drank much since coming to this new world - he was trying to be better but tonight, as he watched you mercilessly mocked Wade he felt like indulging. 
One night, would it be so bad?
“Logan, let’s take some shots.” You pulled him down next to you and he adjusted himself onto his seat, ignoring the way your hand on him made him feel. He needed more to drink if he was going to survive the night, so he ordered a round for the three of you. Then another and another…
“...is he always like that?”
You gazed up from the shot glass in your hand and followed the direction Logan was facing. Wade was caressing the pool stick in his hand as a failed attempt to distract the poor fella who agreed to a round. Laughing, you said yes and shrugged. “Wade is anything but boring. I like that about him.”
“How did you two get mixed up together?”
Logan felt more relaxed than when he first arrived two hours ago, his jacket was hanging off his chair and the sleeves to his dark henley were pulled up to his forearms. You tried not to stare too hard but you were only a woman. He was gorgeous and rough around the edges, defeat in his eyes but there was something more to the man next to you. 
“A friend introduced us, well, more like a frenemy of Wade’s. We’ve worked off and on for the last few years. He’s honestly, don’t tell him this, not that bad. Kind of annoying…”
Logan laughed, which surprised him more than you. His smile faded when the expression on your face turned into her. He felt ashamed, bashful, and he quickly ordered two more rounds. Sensing a shift, you changed the subject and asked if he had talked to Laura lately.
“She called the other day. Not sure I can give her what she wants…”
“Laura just needs support. People she can count on, friends,” you assured him. The rounds of tequila were brought over and Logan slid two shot glasses to you. You took one and lifted it up to him. “To Laura.”
Logan looked at you, eyes softened as his old heart beated faster than he cared for. Your hair was out of your face, eyes a bit glazed from the alcohol but there was something so different about you. Something the version of you he had loved didn’t have - happiness. You were just happy and satisfied with your life, and he couldn’t fathom it. Logan couldn’t understand how you could be so different from, well, you. There had been something so sad about the woman he loved, so melancholy. Always living for others but you, you sat next to him happy as a clam to be in some shitty little bar. With Wade accosting other customers, sitting next to a man you hardly knew but was so kind to. Logan felt sick to his stomach, guilty as hell because he wouldn't admit it. Too scared to admit that he was enjoying this version of you. Lighthearted and fun. 
You piece of shit, after all she had done for everyone. This is how you repay her? By drooling over another version of her? She died in your arms, you prick!
“Logan.”
Your voice was quietly sweet and he realized he had dazed off, immediately he pushed away all thoughts and chuckled. “To Laura.”
You grinned and clicked your glass against his before downing it. Then you toasted to Wade and Logan begrudgingly joined in for the second shot. Too much alcohol had circulated in your body now, your head felt lightheaded and suddenly, you were braver than you had ever been. Recognizing the song playing over the speakers, you casually suggested Logan take you out to dance. Logan snorted at such a suggestion, thinking you were messing with him but you just stared at him.
“You can’t be fucking serious!”
“Don’t cuss at me, Logan.”
Your tone felt very final but the smile on your face was light and in that moment, Logan couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He stood up from his stool, a cold stone expression on his face as he took your hand and cursed under his breath as he pulled you to the small dancing area across the room. He ignored the staring coming from Wade, who was still playing pool. Holding back a laugh, you allowed Logan to pull you to him, one arm around your waist, while the other held your hand. His body felt strong against yours yet his fingers were gentle, tender as they held you.  Your hand slipped up his back and Logan stilled for a single moment when your head rested against his shoulder before he relaxed. He led the dance, slow methodical steps but maybe it was the drinking that had you feeling dizzy and far too relaxed. Neither of you said a single word the entire song, Logan just held you in his arms and hated that he didn’t hate it. He could have gone all night on the dance floor with you against him, his hands on you. He didn’t mind it one bit and when the song ended, he felt disappointed in so many ways.
“Thanks for the dance, Logan,” you mused, patting him on the chest. His hands fell from your body and he couldn’t manage a smile. His eyes were glued to you as you mentioned you needed to use the restroom.His fingers slowly, painfully released you from his grip. You smiled at him and walked toward the bathrooms. Logan stood there as the next song played, something more upbeat and he could feel Wade’s annoying stare but he couldn’t take his eyes off where you stood. Back home, he never danced with you. You weren’t the dancing type, you had been far too busy to enjoy those sorts of things. This had been a first for him and tried so hard to picture the woman he loved in his arms but all he could see was you. 
“You’re so fucked.”
Logan snapped out of his thoughts and glared at Wade, who stood at his side. “Got the hots for the ghost of your girlfriend, huh?”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Wade threw an arm around Logan’s shoulder and noted he knew more than he led on. “That cute little snapshot you have in your wallet? I gotta say, you have a type.”
“Don’t touch my shit again,” Logan warned him. He forgot about the photo in his wallet. Wade smirked and nodded to where you were coming from the bathrooms. 
“Your secret is safe with me…for now, asshole. Just letting you know, you break her heart and I break your small little dick, got it?”
Logan ignored the man and pushed him away as you walked up with a curious glance. Wade flipped him off and wandered back to the pool table. You asked what that was about and Logan said nothing. “Another round?”
“Hell no,” you laughed, bouncing on the heels of your feet. “I am hungry though…I know a really good burger place…”
Perfection. That’s what you were, that’s what this all felt like for Logan and he knew then, Wade was completely right - he was so fucked. Logan agreed, the two of you walked back to the counter for your things. He put on his jean jacket and you grabbed your bag, both of you agreeing to sneak out before Wade could follow. The night was cold but Logan felt nothing but a surge of warmth fall over his body as you walked alongside him. Talkative and a bit clumsy, so much so, he resigned his hand on the small of your back. You didn’t seem to mind and he didn’t either.
So the two of you walked on, disappearing into the night crowd of the city - Logan’s hand, warm on your back. 
...............
leave comment for a tag. (I tagged those from the OG post who seemed interested in seeing a second part)
@pushingdaisies1
@johnnysilverhandeeznuts
@murderhousemuse
@carolinameinicke
@abysswhiskey11
@weallhaveadestiny
@cosmiccandydreamer @airwolf92 @fidgetingbee
@bananarepublic58 @ilove-sexydilfsnmilfs @an-tkc
@wotcherboo
@theslvttysimp @cauqhtz @ittoscumdump @sad0ni0n
@lostinspace33 @corpse-ihte71 @somekale08
@britthiddlesbatch @doradora8008 @aheadfullofsteverogers
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@killerwendigo @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @theprettyarachnid
@meg11 @moonrosekk
@luna-usagi-chan @lucienjynix
@xxshantixx @unlikelycupcakequeen
@morishitoshi
@between-the-pages-ofa-book
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buggybambi · 3 days
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hi. this is also a smutty 18+ only blurb, minors go get your smut fix somewhere else cause it aint from me.
no thoughts but secretly hooking up with carmen.
it’s just casual between you two. you both agreed; no feelings, just sex.
it started small, at first. he was stressed at work and you offered to help him with inventory one late night. and well? one thing led to another. suddenly, you’re sat on his desk, spread open as he laps desperately at your cunt, fingers curling inside of you as you moan his name like its a prayer.
it isnt long after that you propose a.. co workers with benefits ordeal. he gets you, you get him. simple.
its second nature at this point, truthfully.
it was a stressful lunch rush. the printer had been malfunctioning all day, leading to some orders not coming through or at all, until nat had to fix the issue.
after a few meltdowns, explitives and throwing of potatoes from the head chef, he walks up behind you as you’re cutting something up.
“my office.” is all he whispers to you, before he’s walking towards his office. you ask another chef to take over for you, grateful that they do, as you follow him.
your asks of “what’s going on?” is muffled when he presses your back against the oak door, his lips on yours in an instant.
“god, i need you so bad.” if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounds like he’s begging. but you can tease him on that later.
you begin unbuttoning his chefs coat, then taking off his undershirt. from there its a toss of clothes.
your pants, his pants, your panties.. his fingers in you.
he prefers to finger you first. get you worked up for him, have you begging for just a little bit more friction, begging for more of him.
“shit, babe. already so wet for me.” he murmurs, as he fucks you with his fingers. he knows when to curl them, he knows where to arch them at, he knows everything about you.
after a few orgasms (most of which he had to coax out of you with praises and promises he’d fuck you good), he finally took his boxers off. disregarding them aside along with your panties that were already thrown to the floor, he slides you closer to him where you lay on the desk.
you and him dont have a lot of time before anyone would notice its suspicious you’ve both been gone so long. so, he thrusts into you at a pace thats enjoyable but will let you both finish quickly.
a few rubs of your clit, sucks of your neck, and him thrusting into that spot? yeah. you’re done quickly. so is he.
getting you both cleaned up, you slip your clothes and chefs coats back on. you head back out to your stations at seperate times.
one mississippi, two mississippi, three.. then you walk out.
casual. second nature.
it isnt until you go back to your station you realize tina is looking at you weirdly. “what? did i miss something?” you ask her as you resume your cooking.
“not at all, carmen.” she says. you’re about to ask what the hell she means when you realize.
both of you have white chefs coats.
well, shit.
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warping-realities · 2 days
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Beautiful Things
Hey, everyone! This story is part of the Viral Transformation funfarre proposed by the one and only @occamstfs, in celebration of hitting 2K followers! Congrats, bro, you totally deserve it. He’s one of our top authors and never fails to bring the best stories.
Before I dive in, I gotta give you a heads-up that this is a story about corruption, where good people turn into the worst kind of folks. If that’s a sensitive topic for you, I’d recommend not moving forward. Trust me, in the original project, things were way worse, but after chatting with the MAN himself, who helped me with some edits, I softened the tone of the story a bit. If you’re interested in the original version, I can post it later, but this is the final cut.
That said, I hope you all enjoy it and join me in celebrating this awesome author!"
Alois was strolling mindlessly in the morning towards the student exchange center in Seattle, where a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat students from all over the world were gathering for the adaptation phase of their exchange semester. The eighteen-year-old Austrian was loving the experience of taking a gap year before diving back into his studies in Vienna, where he planned to become a doctor. As he walked down the busy street, on what should be the only sunny day of the year, he spotted one of those types he had seen around the city. They were all buff and tall, with wavy, well-groomed hair, and the big ol' mustache that defined them, giving off the vibe of some douchebag brotherhood or whatever. This one in particular was jamming out to music on headphones that looked straight outta the nineties, just like his outfit, which consisted of Levi’s jeans, a white tee, a dark jacket, and combat boots. The whole look cranked the douche factor up to eleven, making Alois's heart race a bit as a shiver of attraction ran through him. When the guy passed by Alois, he shot a look at the smaller red-headed man, dripped with arrogance while a smirk played at the corners of his lips, like he knew some secret that Alois was clueless about. To make things worse, the music blaring from his headphones was so loud that Alois couldn’t help but catch a snippet.
“Please, staaaayyyy…”
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That stupid song again. At first, Alois thought it was kinda interesting, despite all the religious preaching in it, which rubbed the young atheist the wrong way. What he didn’t realize was that the singer was all about filming a lot of TikTok videos to promote his work, videos that inevitably flooded the social media feeds of a gay dude with an unfounded attraction to that type of guy. A type that seemed to be multiplying on the streets of Seattle every damn day. Sure, Benson Boone was from Monroe, just a few miles away, but still… Maybe he was looking at things from the wrong angle, maybe it was the singer who was cashing in on the style of the group he and his fellow exchange students had dubbed the Mustache Gang.
The fact is, after several months, the hype around the song should’ve died but apparently that was still far from happening. Trying to leave the discomfort aside Alois headed to the coffee shop that had quickly become his favorite spot during his short stay in the city. As he walked along, head down like most introverts do, he got lost in thought about what kind of work the exchange agency would hook him up with, until his daydreaming was interrupted when those familiar chords hit his ears again.
“I want you, I need you, oh God…”
But this time, someone had slapped a cheerful electronic beat onto the song, which not only butchered it but also made it even more annoying. Looking for the source of that cacophony, he lifted his head and glanced to the side. He could’ve sworn he saw a chubby dude coming his way, but now there was no sign of him, just another one of those big-mustached douchebags strutting around with the swag all of them seemed to have, along with the usual cocky grin. Dressed in a white tank that showed off his defined arms and hairy chest. There was no one else close to Alois on the street at that moment, which was a blessing, since his dick was starting to stir at that sight. But that also freaked him out. Where the hell did that damn music come from? Was he seriously imagining things now?
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Distracted and worried about his sanity, he stepped into the coffee shop. At that moment, the place was almost empty; there was just an old dude, well past his prime, fiddling with his phone, looking like he was in a bad mood while he seemed to be listening to something that deeply disgusted him through the giant headphones he was wearing. Apparently, the use of those things was a trend around there.
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Passing by the old guy, Alois headed to the counter and ordered his usual coffee with cream and sugar. As he made his way back to the exit, still freaking out about his mental state, disaster struck. Clumsy as ever, he tripped and faceplanted on the floor, coffee spilling everywhere and staining a good chunk of his clothes.
“Alois, du bist dumm…”
He said stunned in embarrassment, as he turned to the side, starting to get up. His view landed on black combat boots that ended in large calves covered in denim, leading up to thighs as thick as they come. But the old man was wearing a suit, no? Clearly not, since the Levi’s pants had been replaced by a black hoodie that concealed a massive chest, which the sleeves were stretched to the limit by powerful biceps. The grand torso gave way to a handsome face framed by wavy brown hair, and right in the center, the ever-present slick mustache that even the guy’s prescription glasses couldn’t diminish the douchebag effect. With his eyes closed and a focused expression, he didn’t even seem to notice what just happened right next to him.
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But Alois couldn’t help but wonder, where the hell did that old guy go? While trying to figure out when the old dude left the shop and the Mustache Gang member took his spot at the table, the man seemed to wake up. Smiling and fixing his hair, he finally noticed that a kid was trying to get up from a puddle of coffee right next to him.
“Need a hand, little bro?” he asked, though not with a genuinely empathetic expression; on the contrary, the grin he shot at Alois did little to hide how much he found the situation hilarious.
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“No, I’m good, thanks!” Alois replied, finishing getting up and bolting out of the shop as the guy burst into loud laughter behind him. Apparently, this dude wasn’t just rocking the look of a douchebag. Rushing to wipe the coffee off his hoodie, Alois continued his march to his destination. Luckily, no other mortifying events unfolded along the way. Upon entering the classroom, he passed by Charles, a French dude with long blonde hair and delicate features, who was checking something on his iPad while also rocking a pair of those old-school headphones. Not wanting to disturb his classmate, he didn’t say hi and headed further back in the room, where bis friends Arjun and Qian, hailing from India and Taiwan respectively, were hanging out. As he passed Charles, he heard that stylized version of Benson Boone’s song again.
“I found my mind, I'm feelin' sane
It's been a while, but I'm finding my faith…”
Apparently, he wasn’t going crazy after all. He quickly turned towards the source of the music only to find one of those big-mustached douchebags and no music font at all. But he could’ve sworn that… wasn’t there another person there? A kid with long, well-kept blonde hair? Well, his hair was definitely blonde and well-kept, just like the his mustache. Wearing a tank top that showed off his arms and staring at everyone in the room with an air of immense superiority that made Alois feel torn between attraction and disgust.
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Resuming his path back to his friends, he discreetly adjusted his boner in his sweatpants while sitting down and trying to forget about that damn song.
“So, who’s the jerk sitting at the front of the class like he owns the place?”
“We’ve been wondering that too, man,” Arjun, the skinny Indian boy with long limbs replied.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” continued Qian, who was more compact, as their teacher, Mr. Sizemore, spoke to the class.
“Guys, today I brought the manager of one of the establishments where you might work. Chuck works at a pub called Shooters; it’s an opportunity we typically offer to our students over twenty one. However, the place has expanded and now also has a Hookah Lounge, the Puff Palace. Although I must say the best option would be for no one here to inhale anything, this is still a decent job opportunity. Without further ado, here’s Mr. Chuck Morris.”
The guy smiled arrogantly before stretching and scratching his neck, causing the lightweight, almost see-through fabric of his tank top to expose his nipples, which didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took his sweet time getting up, like he was in some kind of private show.
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But in Alois’s opinion, it would’ve been better if he had stayed seated and shut up, because the first words that came out of his mouth to the class raised a wave of utter dissatisfaction.
“Hey there, guys! Happy to finally leave your miserable countries behind and be in the greatest nation in the world?” The conversation didn’t get any better after that, and Alois was sure that whatever happened, he’d never set foot in that bar called Shooters.
After class, he was chatting animatedly with Arjun as they headed back to their dorm.
“I’d love to know what that illiterate would do if he knew he was talking to future doctors, engineers, journalists… while he’s gonna spend the rest of his life working in a bar serving people like him,” Alois commented.
“Probably nothing would change. People like him always think they’re superior just because of how they look and because they were born here in the States. Doesn’t matter if they live in a trailer and rely on government assistance.”
“True, ahhh, I want a coffee; I spilled mine all over this morning. Do you want one too?” Alois asked as they passed by his favorite coffee shop again.
“No, I’m good. I’ll go ahead; we’ll catch up later,” Arjun replied, continuing on while Alois entered the coffee shop. After carefully getting his to-go coffee to avoid a repeat of that morning’s fiasco, he turned and headed to the exit when he heard the synthetic chords again, accompanied by that familiar lyric.
“Don't take these beautiful things that I've got…”
This time, he saw where the sound was coming from—a Latino guy a bit older than him was listening through those giant headphones. Feeling sure he wasn’t losing it, Alois allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief, only to get a major scare. In the blink of an eye, where the guy had been, now sat one of those big-mustached dudes, this one bigger and more muscular than the others, but with the same wavy hair and infamous mustache.
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Alois was stunned, staring at the man, who in turn pointed a finger at him as if to assert something and gave him a smile that freaked the young guy out to his core.
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Not knowing how to handle that situation, Alois bolted from the shop, trying to make sense of what he had seen. Still in shock, he entered the room he shared with Qian in the dorm, where his friend was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his phone, still dressed in the button-up shirt and khakis he wore to class.
“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I... I forgot... How bizarre, I'm sure it was important Qian! Qian? Is everything okay? Qian…? You good?” he asked, realizing his friend hadn’t heard a word he said, just to see his face contort and his eyes roll back as if he were convulsing, and then… puff. Right in front of him stood another member of the Mustache Gang, wavy hair, slick mustache, a chiseled face and a muscular body on display.
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“You good??? Qian? Who the hell is Qian? I’m Ken, you foreigner dumbass.” Said the young man of Chinese descent, the irony of using that kind of comment not even crossing his arrogant and brutish mind. “You’re here only because I couldn’t score with an American ass. But a hole’s a hole…”
“I… what…?”
“You just accept a quick hookup on Grindr man, It's not that difficult. Gonna act all shy now? Here in America, that kind of behavior doesn’t fly. Either you do what you came to do or bounce, but then you'll miss out on all this,” the guy replied, flexing his powerful muscles while giving him an arrogant grin. Alois was thinking about where exactly he was and what he was doing there.
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“So ginger, what's it gonna be?”
.....
When he got to the dorm for international students  after getting his ass wrecked by the massive schlong of his Grindr hookup, who he discovered was co-manager of Shooters and Puff Palace alongside Chuck —those two even shared an apartment above the pub—he hated himself for getting into that mess just for a quick lay. Yet, at the same time, it was the best fuck he’d ever had. As he stripped down and got ready to shower and wash off the sweat and sex smell from his body, the distinct ping of a Grindr message caught his attention. Opening the app, he found a new message from Ken Lee.
“Hey ginger I think you’re gonna like this.” Ignoring all common sense, thinking it might be a nude, he clicked the link the other guy sent along with the message. Strangely enough, it was a clip from a podcast where a young woman interviewed a flamboyant man, who was wearing a bright and flashy suit, both chatting animatedly. Everything about them screamed obnoxious  starting with their shrill voices that didn’t stop talking for a second. Losing interest and wondering why a guy like Ken would send that to him, Alois let the video play as he headed to the bathroom in the room he occupied alone in the dorm.
“… so, Benson Boone? He’s such a total hottie, girl!”
“Don’t even get me started, Yasmin! I melt for a guy like that! I’d do him in a heartbeat.”
“Me too, Nico! But with that whole Christian boy vibe, I’m not sure he’s got the moves.”
“Girl, it’s just marketing. A guy like that, with that body? And anyone rocking a mustache like that knows exactly what to do with a girl… or a man.”
“Nico you slut, I heard some rumors…”
“I know, girl! I wouldn’t doubt he’s hooked up with more than a few, after all, a man has his needs, and to a guy like him a hole’s a hole like my brother used to say”
“Oh, my brother always said the same thing. What’s going on that there aren’t any more men like him in America?”
“I’ll tell you, I don’t get it either. Everywhere I look, I only see snowflakes and wimps. They say they are our allies, but this talk about toxic masculinity has turned all of them into whiners. Of course I prefer not to be attacked in the street by a bunch of homophobes, but sometimes all we want is someone to fuck us senseless And no one does it like a good douchebag, and don't come to me with that talk that this is a white, cis man's thing, yada yada yada... all due respect to the cause, but we need more men like this hottie, not less. Real American men, who know what they want and make it happen, I don't care what they do with their lives as long as they fuck me right. So I vote for more douchebags, of all races, creeds and sexual orientations, sis!
“True, Nico! I wish I could make that happen…”
“Me too, girl, but how about we listen to his updated song while we wait for the real American men to come back?”
“Sure, girl, this version is way better and more danceable, perfect for a man to sweep me off my feet. Play it!”
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Then, the chords that had been haunting Alois all day started playing, and he quickly turned on his way to the bathroom to stop the video—there’s no way he’d want to listen to that on his own.
“Mm. Please stay. I want you, I need you, oh God…”
As he turned towards the source of the sound, he froze, hearing it as a feeling of numbness invaded his head and took over his body, barely letting him take a step back before being flooded with memories and sensations that weren’t his. His childhood in Austria was being replaced by one  in Virginia, time spent studying swapped for sports practice, the memory of a skinny physique giving way to a powerful, muscular body, atheism giving way to worship at church every Sunday, even if he spent most of the time distracted, checking out the girls present. And speaking of girls, nights of sex, just banging them in the ass to keep his virginity intact, and when a girl refused, there was always a twink willing to step in. After all hole’s a hole. Then there was the end of school five years ago and the move to Seattle, working as a personal trainer during the day and a bartender at Shooters at night, the apartment shared with Chuck and Ken, and all the possible and imaginable orgies they had . He knew that, as a good Christian, he’d eventually have to give it all up, settle down, and start a family, but until then, the single life was too good to pass up, and he was gonna enjoy it. And even after he gets married if the desire arises, well a man has his needs and one thing he has learned is that no one is a better bottom than a slut boy desperate for a fuck.
“No… no… what the hell…. This can’t be real…” Alois grumbled as he tried to move towards the phone that he now knew had to be the source of this whole bizarre situation. However, with every step he took, his muscles expanded. His skinny chest exploded into slabs of meat that are now pecs, below his abs form into six brick-like blocks, and his arms and legs thicken to a considerable size. His hair grew longer in well-kept waves, and that infamous mustache sprouted and grew on a more masculine and angular face. At the same time, the room he was in transformed, and he found himself on the other side of the city, in the place he had just left a little over 40 minutes ago.
When he got to the phone, Allen adjusted it, fixing the camera angle. That video was gonna be perfect for his TikTok, especially with that new version of Benson Boone’s song, one he’d used in a bunch of other videos, but this remix version was fire.
Fixing his hair and flexing his powerful muscles, he smiled at the camera.
“Yo, what’s up, fam? Today’s heavy lifting day and a wild night at Shooters. If anyone’s interested in what I’m packing here, just swing by or hit up the link to my OnlyFans in the bio. Only for the grown folks, are you really gonna miss out on this?” he wrapped up, crossing his arms in front of his body and flashing one of those grins at the camera.
“Damn, that looks so good!” he said, posting the video on TikTok and heading towards the living room of the apartment he shared with Chuck and Ken, not even bothering to shower. He had a new client coming to the gym in the next hour, so why waste time on more than one shower? “Tonight’s gonna be lit for sure, guys,” he said, talking to his roommates.
“Are you talking about the Indian skinny boy who’s training with you?”
“Ugh, definitely not. Dudes like him are for when there are no other options. But it wouldn’t be a Friday night if Big Al didn’t get some real action.!” He said grabbing his cock and balls over his shorts, laughing. "I can't wait to get some ass." He concludes while shaking his huge cock out of his shorts and making everyone burst out laughing.
“We’re all gonna get some, man. Chuck’s been spreading the word in an exchange class; soon, it’ll be packed with foreign slutty chicks and twinks looking for an American dick, and we can bang them all we want, Red.” Said Ken with a mischievous grin.
"And God bless that! "Chuck added beside him with an identical smile, which was also mirrored on Allen's face.
...
Allen was sitting on a bench in front of the gym, waiting for his new student, a scrawny Indian dude from the exchange program named Arjun.
“You coming, bro?”
“Sorry, I’m on my way. Got held up.”
“So, meet me in the gym locker room so we don’t waste time. In the meantime, check this out,” Allen said, sending the link to Yas and Nico podcast, she was a hot babe even if she seems as dumb as a rock. Not that he cared much about that at all; she was hot, and that was good enough for him, and that Nico had a very fuckable butt. He didn’t even stop to think about why he was sending that video; it just felt like something he should do.
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.....
While he was chilling on a bench in the gym locker room, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he didn’t notice the transformation happening to his student right behind him. The skinny Arjun was rapidly inflating with muscles and attitude without Allen even realizing it. It was only when he looked up and saw a dude of Indian descent with silky hair and the infamous mustache, wearing nothing but gym shorts, casually scratching his powerful pecs.
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“Art, you still haven’t finished getting dressed, you asshole? We gotta workout, take some pics of our pump for OnlyFans and hit the bar shift afterwards.”
“Chill, Al, I’m getting ready. It’s not like your muscles are gonna disappear because of a five minute delay in your workout.”
“Five minutes is already too much,” he replied, flexing his arms and smiling arrogantly. “Tonight, I want the max pump in these Beautiful Things I’ve got.”
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lexirosewrites · 2 days
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Slick Sundaaaaaaay!
I see a lot of ABO steddie fics featuring Omega Steve who is self conscious for one reason or another because he doesn't have a typical Omega physic and/or behaviors (which is super tasty yum yum) but I live the idea of Eddie being the more swlf conscious one.
Like, Eddie who is not deceptively strong for his size (he has a little bit of natural muscle tone as an Alpha but he never puts it to good use), and who is a little weasel who like to agrivate people but runs away from any kind of real conflict and doesn't have a strong manly scent or any desire for a high powered job to take care of an Omega unless you count is half fleshed out dreams of being a rock star.
Dealers choice of how it happens but Steve basically asks Eddie if he would be interested in couting the Omega and Eddie isn't blind, stupid, or heartless so he jumps on the chance to be with the Omega of his dreams but very quickly finds himself self agonizing about how to be the "right kind" of Alpha for Steve.
So decides he needs to start working out so he can keep his Omega safe even if he knows Steve is more than capable of taking care of himself in that department but his first workout sends him into an asthma attack for the ages so he decides it's more important for Steve to have a living Alpha than a fit one.
There's nothing much he can do about his wet concrete and grass scent which on paper sounds super manly but mostly just smells like a suburban morning so he goes down the employment seeking rabbit hole. He applies for what feels like every Alpha-y job in the Hawkins area but his reputation proceeds him and he never makes it past the first interview. Eventually he gets a call back from a place he applied for after reading the word "painter" and wrote down the number in his notebook with no notes (he didn't say he had a good system) but it turns out to be someone two towns over looking for someone to freelance the painting of dnd and other such figures to sell in a games shop two towns over. It's an ideal job for Eddie but it's deeply entrenched in his need shit and not the kind of thing he was looking for to impress Steve and show him he can provide for him and their future pups. He still takes it because even if it doesn't pay a tone, whatever he DOES make can go toward pampering his Omega and saving up.
It all comes to a head when they go out and Eddie is feeling pretty down on himself after so many failed attempts to "improve" for his Love. Some guy is hitting in Steve while Eddie is RIGHT THERE even though Steve has said no many times and has told him he's there with his Alpha. The guy just keeps leaving and coming back and on his fourth return to their spot Eddie just launches is fist no warning into the guy's face.
That was NOT what he meant to do, he was just getting so fed up and territorial and he was gonna really tell the guy to piss off but the little goblin inside him made him throw a pretty pathetic punch that results in a busted knuckle for him and a slightly bruised and irate beta in front of them.
Steve drags him out and takes him back to the trailer, grumbling the whole time about "stupid Alphas and their stupid instincts" and finally snaps and asks Eddie what the hell has been up with him lately. Eddie just blinks his big dumb eyes at Steve as he points out the job search and the asthma hospital visit and the more expensive gifts and finally asks why he's been acting like such a knot head.
So they talk it out and Steve makes Eddie hold him in his lap so he can tell him all the ways, the ways that matter to Steve, that Eddie takes care of him. Tells him how he doesn't need an Alpha to fight for him but he's never had an Alpha offer him sanctuary like Eddie does. Eddie who never makes him feel stupid for his questions and reads his assigned books to him even though the Alpha is behind on his own school work and let's him build a nest in his bed.
Tells him that he appreciates Eddie trying to make money for their future family, loves that even, but what use does he have for fancy jewlery or a full bouquet of roses? Like, he doesn't even like jewlery that much and he gets much better use of the brand new wool socks Eddie thrifted for him last month in an Indiana winter and the wild flowers he brought him for their first date are much easier to press than huge roses.
Just a series of misinformed adventures for looser Alpha Eddie that end in comical disaster and his Omega who is utterly charmed his his earnest attempts to be a good Alpha but who really just wants a loving mate and partner.
oh i love this😭😭😭 Eddie just wants to be the perfect mate and alpha for his omega, meanwhile Steve can’t figure out what’s going on with the love of his life who is already perfect to him!!!!
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madhatterbri · 3 days
Text
Filling | D.M.
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Summary: A pie isn't the only thing that gets filled. 18+.
Authors Note: Happy first day of fall, y'all.
Drew McIntyre Masterlist
Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @keytothewardy @magicalbuttertarts @new-zealand-chic
Drew stopped in his tracks the moment he saw Y/N in the kitchen. The flannel he wore the night before covered her top. Short pajama bottoms barely covered her ass. The woman was trying to kill him. He just knew it.
"Morning," Drew greeted. He walked towards her. A bowl of pie filling laid before her. He moved her hair to the other side and kissed her neck. A shiver ran down her spine.
"Good morning, yourself," she hummed. His hands slid underneath the flannel shirt. Rough hands tickled her soft skin.
"I have got to say. The shirt looks a lot better on you than me," he commented. Y/N felt the shirt raise higher. The Scottish devil was trying to get a repeat of last night.
"And it will be staying on me," she informed him. Y/N swatted his hands away. He pouted yet pulled away from her. She turned around and sat on the kitchen counter. "Can you hand me a spoon, please? I want to try some to see if I need to add anything?"
Drew grabbed a wooden spoon. He scooped some of the filling in the spoon. The wrestler moved to serve her. She opened her mouth early to taste the sweet treat. Accidentally, as Drew insisted, some of the cool filling fell down on her chest.
She gasped and looked down. "Can I have a napkin, please?"
Drew had another idea.
He gripped the flannel shirt and ripped it open. She squeaked as her chest was now exposed to him. When she didn't hide herself, he leaned down and licked the filling slowly. His skilled tongue licked lower to her nipple. He sucked her nipple. Teeth grazed over the sensitive peak.
"Drew," she moaned. She clenched her legs. The tingling between her legs was a direct reaction from his teasing. He started to kiss up her chest and to her neck. His hand gripped her neck. His lips teased the shell of her ear.
"You cost me my flannel. I feel like this warrants a punishment. Bend over the counter and don't make me repeat myself,"
Drew took a step back. She slid off the counter. The wooden spoon fiddled in his fingers. He wanted her to know his instrument of the punishment. Timidly, she turned around and bent over. Her open palms and bare chest pressed against the cool countertop. Her face turned to the side in order to count.
His hands rubbed up her inner thighs. Her legs parted wider as his hands explored higher. The spot between her legs tingled more for him. He was so close to touching her, but he pulled away. She knew better than to show any signs of disapproval. It would just add to the punishment.
His fingers found their way to her shorts waistband and panties. With bent fingers, little effort was used to slide them down her legs. They pooled at her bare feet. She knew better than to kick them away.
"Maybe now you will learn to ask for permission to borrow my clothes. I expect to see you in that flannel for the rest of the day," he told her. She nodded and blushed darkly. His hands found their way on her bare ass.
He kneaded into her flesh. The massage started to calm her nerves. She visibly relaxed. His distraction worked in his favor. The wooden spoon struck her right cheek. She gasped and bit her lip. The wooden spoon left a red line and a nice sting.
"One,"
Drew smiled at the count. She was such a good girl for him. Well, when she wanted to be. He paced each smack of the wooden spoon. Some were in quick succession while others were spaced apart. Drew didn't want her to expect the spanks. Nonetheless, she counted each one to his liking.
"This hurt me more than it hurt you," he attempted to assure her. Drew placed the spoon down in front of her face. This is a reminder of what was to come if she disobeyed. His hands rubbed her bare ass once more. A hiss fell out of Y/N. She wanted to move from his touch. Her breath sucked in when his hands explored lower.
His middle finger slid ever so slowly between her slit. His hand rubbed up and down. Another finger, his ring finger, joined in the teasing. He spread her lips apart before allowing them to close several times. Her juices covered his fingers.
"Hands behind your back," he ordered. A soft slap to her bottom to show the urgency in following his simple order. No hesitation when the message was read loud and clear. Her wrists lay on top of one another on her back.
The same two fingers toyed with her once more. This time, they found their way to her entrance. He teased her. Only allowing up to his fingernails inside of her. Her walls clenched around them to keep him in. Y/N closed her eyes to keep from getting frustrated. Drew loved when she was patient.
With no warning, his fingers slid inside of her. She sighed in relief. Her walls clamped down around his fingers. Drew thrusted his fingers in and out. Her hips pushed back against him as if to allow him to go deeper. He showed mercy this time. Her actions went on without risk of punishment.
Her breathy moans started to pick up. No matter the situation, her body craved his touch. Drew curled his fingers. A whine of his name filled the cabin kitchen.
"Oh, Drew,"
Satisfied, he removed his fingers. Y/N caught her breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she waited for his next plan. Unable to see him, the rustling of the clothes was the only indicator of what was to come. His jeans were kicked away once they pulled around his feet.
The Scotsman rubbed her hips and outer thighs. The tender moment cut short when he placed her bent leg on the countertop. He reveled at the sight of her. She was so exposed to him. All for him.
Drew wasted little time. She jerked slightly when he pushed himself inside of her. Her eyes opened. Their breathing picked up. He went slow. This was a punishment for her, after all. He allowed himself in a little at a time before pulling out. An amused smirk on his handsome face. Y/N was frustrated yet didn't dare to say anything.
Showing mercy, he thrusted all the way in. His pelvis smacked against her ass. He repeated this a few times before picking up the pace. With her hands still behind her back, he gripped her wrists in his hand. His other hand was placed on the counter behind her head for better leverage.
Her body clamped around him the moment he picked up his pace. He swore he saw her eyes roll to the back of her head. She swore she saw stars. When he thrusted forward, Drew pulled her towards him. With her leg propped up, she swore he reached places no man had before.
"My good little baker. Baking a pie for our friends for later. If only they could see you now," he chuckled. Her mouth hung open, eyes rolled, toes curled, and a thin sheet of sweat covered her body. She nodded. His words sounded so far away.
"So close," she warned.
"I've got you, love," he assured her.
Drew's eyes roamed over her body again. When she first suggested a cabin for the weekend, he was a little perplexed. After last night and this morning, he could see her reasoning. No cell service. No distractions. Just the two of them catching up from his busy work schedule.
He let go of her wrists. She moved them away and rolled them around gently. The position made her a little stiff. His now free hand roamed by rubbing her back, butt, and settling to the bundle of nerves between her legs.
Y/N cursed as her orgasm seemed to come at a much quicker pace. His skilled fingers manipulated her to her peak. His thrusts grew sloppier as time went on.
"Drew!"
With one last cry of his name, Y/N comes on his cock. Her fingernails left crescent moon indents in her palns. He thrusted himself fully one last time and stilled. His cum filling inside of her. Never allowing himself to finish first, he placed both his hands on the counter.
Her legs shook under her. She would be on the floor if it wasn't for the countertop and Drew. When ready, he pulled himself out of her. The tell-tale sign of their dirty deed rolls down her thighs. He grabbed a kitchen towel and wiped away the evidence.
With a secure arm around her waist, he helps her off the counter. Her body is sore from the position, but she is satisfied. Her bare back pressed to his bare chest. He whispers sweet nothings in her ear. Soft, gentle kisses left on her cheek.
He spun her around and sat her on the countertop. Their foreheads pressed together. Drew is still trying to gather enough strength to take them to the bathroom to bathe. He kissed her gently. His fingers ran through her hair before nestling any loose strands behind her ear.
When enough time passed, he scooped her up in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Legs were wrapped around his waist. Her head rested on his shoulder. Before drifting off to sleep, she looked at the counter. The bowl of filling left temporarily forgotten on the counter.
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blackberries45 · 2 days
Text
A Helpful Bath
Beetlejuice x fem reader (could picture Lydia or whoever)
Word count : ~900
Warnings : he gets her off 🤷🏼‍♀️
Notes: she needed a bath and he helped 😆 sorry about misspellings or grammar errors. I word vomit occasionally but suck at it. This is just for me to have fun.
~~~~
It was just a simple bath to calm her down. She was over everything and just wanted to lay in the warm water and relax. But one thing led to another and she thought there might be a way to be a tab bit more relaxed.
Scooting down so her head was comfortably on her bath pillow she closed her eyes and took a long slow breath. Now who to think of. Well, there was that guy in the new book she just started. No, she didn’t know enough about him yet. Maybe he was a creep. There was that cute guy at the store today. Fuck! What if he was a creep too??
She figured she should start before her bath water became cold and someone would just come to mind. Taking another deep breath and slowly letting it go, she moved her hand across her hip. Gently she found where she needed and started to make the circle motions she had made many times before. Her other hand came up to softly tug at one of her nipples. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
Several faces started to come in and out of thought when suddenly, the creep of ALL creeps popped up. Her eyes opened wide as her hands dropped back to her sides making a loud splash. This can’t be happening. How in the world could she think of him of all people while getting off?? After a few seconds though she started to give in. What difference would it make? She wasn’t summoning him, only thinking of him. And his roughness. And is need to prove a point. What a jackass. Oddly it was making her horny again.
She let her eyes close and her hands moved back to their positions. She breathed through the thoughts of him putting her in her place. His wicked laughter and…she laid dead still. She was instantly aware she wasn't alone. Before she could open her eyes though, a hand covered them and a rough voice demanded for her to keep them shut. A slight nod is all she could give for she felt she was in no position to argue.
What felt like ages went by of her thinking about what he must be doing. Was he examining her? Did he think she looked fat or gross? Was he disappointed? Wait, why did she care if he was disappointed or not?? Just when she was about to speak, she felt him lean down next to her ear and ask quietly, “Would you like some help honey?” once again all she could do was slightly nod while biting her lip.
She could tell he was in his suit by the way his sleeve touched her stomach as he replaced her hand with his on her clit. The angle was better with him next to the tub but she tried to focus on the feeling and not wondering if his suit was getting wet. As he started making small slow circles, she calmly grabbed his wrist to hold onto. She could feel him start to lean next to her face again. Like some puppy, he nuzzled his way between her jaw bone and shoulder. Picking up the pace slightly, he worked a moan out of her. He couldn't help himself and lightly bit that soft spot on her neck which caused another breathy moan. This time a dark chuckle escaped him in response. She felt herself starting to clench down to it. Fuck.
Beetlejuice decided he wanted a better angle. He wouldn't go further himself tonight with her, but he'd be sure she'd be satisfied. She could feel when he shifted and was getting into the tub over her. He didn't stop his circles as he bent down, his knees on either side of her legs. She could hear his boots squeak against the side of the tub where the soles rubbed above the water line. He must be soaking wet now. Why would he get into the water with his suit and boots?? Shit! Focus!!
Using both hands now, one to keep her legs just barely a jar since there was a lack of room, and one still circling, she felt him once again right in front of her face. “Breathe” he finally had to remind her. Giving her about two breaths to relax again, he couldn't help himself any longer. He circled her hard and as she opened to moan again he leaned forward and kissed her. She almost protested but at the same moment he had slipped the other hand from keeping her apart, to putting two fingers inside her. She couldn't help but give in.
Her arms that had been still at her sides automatically reached up around his neck, causing the kisses to deepen as her head was tilted back against the cold tile. Long ago her pillow slipped down but all cares had disappeared. She was so close but she started to think again, now about it ending too soon. She was fulling enjoying the sensations and making out with him. “Cum for me honey” Beetlejuice said in a demanding voice as he put his forehead against hers. It was all she needed, his commanding and cool skin against her hot head and she was gone. Crash after crash she clenched down on his fingers. He gave her mouth space to curse and moan until he started slowing down his movements and gently kissed her once more.
Thank you she whispered feeling him starting to back up. His smug and satisfied laugh echoed in the tub though it has a tone of sympathy somehow. Suddenly as he had appeared, she knew he was gone. She opened one eye and then the other. No sign of him to be seen. She pulled herself up in the tub and held her knees. Maybe she was dreaming. The only sign would be the next day when an almost undetectable bite mark in the scoop between her neck and shoulder would appear.
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Text
A Quick Warm Up for A Long Marathon
This is literally just being silly. I know it's super short, but honestly for this part of the story? I think it's just hilarious. I love how this story turned out! Anyways, enjoy some hybrid!CoD
TWs: None, except König being an ass
Wordcount: 800
Art from This Post
Story Below the Cut
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A Quick Warm Up for A Long Marathon
So the cafe was a disaster. Well, not every idea can be brilliant. You'd hoped to break the ice between you, but so be it. You’d still keep trying with König, even if it killed you. Of course with how determined König seemed to shut you out, it started to look like you’d be taking yourself out pretty soon.
You’d dealt with difficult hybrids before. You’d dealt with a tokoloshe shifter that had been determined to undermine any and every attempt to get through to her. You’d eventually won her over by providing her a plethora of fruits from South Africa and two weeks of vacation to visit her aunt during the summers over the holidays, and after that, it was smooth sailing. Maybe König needed something similar? He seemed so closed off all the time. Maybe it was because he was just overworked?
The thought helped calm you. It was a light at the end of the tunnel to look forward to. The knot that had worked itself twixt your shoulder blades started to unwind as you walked down to the gym. You wondered if maybe König would actually be a bit more relaxed once in the gym. Usually, a bit of light jogging was enough to clear your head, so maybe your hybrid might be more friendly when he’d unwound a bit. That, or he’d be particularly bristly. It was a coin flip, really. Not one that you really wanted to hedge your bets on either. You’d really rather not have to put your fate in somebody else's hands, but König had a firm grip on you and he was happily dragging you down to the bottom of the crab bucket.
The walk to the gym led you winding round the base until you came to a wide door, which in turn led to what seemed more like a stadium than a gymnasium. Inside, you turned around as you walked to get a full lay of the land. Around you was a giant track while the ceiling was lined with hoops for hybrids to duck through or swing off of. Hurdles lined one end of the track while a great obstacle course took up the center of the room. Finally, you spotted the equipment lining the far wall. There, you made your way to the back corner, where a small group of hybrids were training using punching bags and kicking pillars. At the end of a line of ten sandbags, König was practising his hooks.
“Hey!” you held up a hand as you walked over to where your colonel stood, “sorry about being late. I got a bit busy.”
König glanced over towards you before focusing back on the red punching bag.
You looked at the bag and then back at him, “So, do you need me to hold some pads for you?”
König stilled, then slowly turned his head towards you. He didn't bother hiding how his eyes squinted as he looked you up and down, “You think you can do that for me?”
You scoffed, “Of course I can! I’m your handler. It's my job.”
König gave you another once-over before dropping his stance. He shrugged and said, “Try your best.”
You turned away to hide your eye roll, but you figured it was time to finally prove your worth as a handler. If you couldn’t get to him on a personal level, he could respect you as a trainer. You’d dealt with plenty of hybrids before König, how could he be any different?
You sauntered back to him with a hefty body bag over one shoulder, your other hand swinging easily by your side. König tilted his head back, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to one foot in a perfect show of bemusement. You snorted to yourself as you held up the pad to your side, shifting to a proper front stance as you readied yourself for the blow.
“Ten roundhouses on the right, ten on the left,” you declared, “sound good to you?”
“What about stretching?” König countered.
The tips of your ears were flushed as you scrambled and sputtered, “I mean, you were doing some exercise earlier, so didn’t you already do some?”
König shook his head, “I did, but did you?”
You paused. He had a fair point.
“Okay, um, can you give me fifteen and I’ll come back to you?” you asked.
König shrugged, “I’ll be here.”
Good enough.
A good fifteen minutes later, you were fully stretched and ready for whatever König was about to throw at you. You picked up your body bag and returned back to your place by König’s side.
“Alright big guy,” you gave him a wicked grin, “I’m not letting you put off leg day anymore!”
König glanced down at his legs, then back at you. The fact that his thighs were thicker than your head was left unsaid.
“So, remember, ten on one leg, ten on the other, alright?” you hoisted the pad up, “starting on the right. Ready?”
König nodded and fell into a comfortable front stance.
“Alright, one!”
Boom.
With one swing, you were sent clean across the gym. You fell into a jumbled mess of limbs, scrambling for traction on the floor mats as you sprawled out. When you managed to find your footing, you stumbled to your feet and turned to face König.
“Maybe you should use the pillars,” you mumbled.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that König was grinning behind his mask.
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Konig Dump
Alternate Universe Stories
41 notes · View notes
yanverse · 1 day
Text
Good Morning - Morgan Lane
plot: morgan doesn't want you to go to work <3
(cws: gn! darling, lazy sex, anal, unprotected, fingering, dirty talk, begging, quickie, lil jealousy factor, slight size difference, established relationship)
word count: 2.1k
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It was the sun rays peeking through the curtains that had first woken you up, but the rumbling of Morgan's light snores against your back was the second. He had passed out on top of you, holding you like a teddy bear in his sleep, and although he was soft it didn't mean he wasn't strong enough to keep you there. Morgan had always been a big guy, and without some decent leverage or just a convincing argument for him to let you up, you'd watch the minutes on the alarm clock pass by on his bedside until you were late.
“Gotta go to work, baby.” You tried to wiggle out from under him, but Morgan's hefty frame kept you pinned, as did his thick arms around your waist. He whined and mumbled something incoherent into your hair, though it was clear enough that he wasn't intent on letting you leave the bed. “Morgan, c'mon. Can't be late again.”
“Yes you can.” He huffed softly into your ear as he shifted around, finally pulling his head up to reach it so you could hear his sweet, hoarse voice, and feel his chapped lips press kisses to your jaw. You both were a bit raspy from the night before, but from the way your boyfriend had exerted himself he was a lot worse off than you were. Your scalp was sore, your back ached, but aside from that and a smattering of bruises all across your body you at least had some energy to spare. Morgan might as well have been dead weight on top of you–well, except for one not-so-small part that was a bit more excited.
“Morgan.” You warned with a stern tone. He rubbed lazy circles into your hip, the spot where your underwear didn't quite reach and it was just bare, smooth skin.
“‘m not doing anything.” He shifted his hips, but the distinct stiffness digging into your thigh didn't let up. It only moved to align more with your cheeks as he ground it gently against you.
“Yes you are.”
“No ‘m not.”
“Yes you are, Morgan Lane.”
“Can't help it.” Morgan finally moaned, his breath a flutter of air as his hips stuttered. As much as you used it to be firm with him, you knew good and well how much he liked it when you pulled out the “government name” as he called it. Probably just because he really liked bugging you. “Feels so nice…I bet you look so pretty.”
“I need to go to work.”
“Work can go to hell,” He panted, moving up all of a sudden to sit up on his knees. “I'm sick of missing time with you.” The calluses on his huge, warm hands rubbed against your skin as he lifted your shirt up, and squeezed soft handfuls of your ass in his palms as he started playing with it. Your butt had such a hold on him that it drove you crazy, you'd rarely seen such an ass man in your life–although maybe that was in part because he had to feel it to see it, or maybe just because your boyfriend was a deplorable freak in bed.
“Morgan-”
“Pleeeease,” He begged selfishly. “Please, baby, I'll be so good if you give it to me. Promise! I want you so bad…I can't survive the day without a part of you with me..” He put on that false, whiney tone while his whimpers hit your ears like a weak spot and the low, soft rasp of his voice sent tingles down your spine. Morgan knew exactly what he was doing as he groped you, there was no playing innocent with him.
You felt him tug on the waist of your underwear–not enough to yank it down, just to plead silently with you for permission–and just like you always ended up doing, you let out a sigh and a “be quick, then” and he grinned into a kiss on the back of your neck.
“Ultra-speed service, I promise.” He chuckled, tugging the fabric down to your knees.
“That's not something to brag about.” You rolled your eyes, but Morgan had his tongue on your thigh in seconds and you just sort of forgot about it. He liked the tease of inching up closer and closer to your sex, sometimes he'd start at your knees or he'd even kiss his way up from your calves if he had the time. This morning it was quick though, and he spread your cheeks apart with little ceremony as he sucked his two fingers into his mouth. Slowly, he eased the tips of them against your tight rim, but chuckled hoarsely when he felt them wiggle in with more immediate acceptance than he anticipated.
“You like it, huh?”
“Don't start.” You warned, but your tone was undeniably cheeky. You could only hide your small, prideful smile by burying your face in his pillow.
Morgan inched his fingers deeper, taking time not to strain you but keeping a steady pace to make sure he didn't make you too late. You'd already be limping into work anyways with how hard his cock was as it stirred in his boxers.
“Always knew you were fuckin’ dirty.” He murmured under his breath, and when he took that tone with you your legs buckled and started shaking with the intensity of your moans. Morgan liked talking dirty but he always had some anxiety that you didn't, so it was rare that he'd let it go completely and just say whatever came to mind. But he had no idea just how hot it was and how good he was at it, especially with his voice all low and raspy from a night of sleep. God knows how you did any work around him when he was sick. “You like it back here, huh? You like getting your ass played with?”
“Morgan-” You cried out, but only finished with a squeal as he brought his palm down on your behind. He could leave welts if he really tried, but usually some swelling and a bit of soreness was the norm. If you were good, that was.
“Want your coworkers to find out you like this?” He muttered as he straddled himself over you, your thighs pinned to the bed as you listened to the shlick of him freeing his cock and stroking it into readiness. He spit into his palm to work some slickness into it, but obviously realized that wasn't enough as you caught his hand in your peripheral reaching to the nightstand to crack open your bottle of lube. A bit of patting around led him right to it. “Bet they'd think you're a whore. Wouldn't they?” You listened to the squirt of fluid splashing into his hand. With your nails digging into the sheets and gripping them shakily, you nodded into the pillow.
“Good.” He huffed, guiding his sticky, slick tip between your cheeks to nestle in against that tight, rough spot. “Then they'll know I fuck you too good to take you away from me.”
“Morgan–nngh-!” A squeal erupted from your lips, not quite caught by your hands as you clapped them over your mouth, as the bed suddenly dipped and pressure spread you open in an instant. Morgan gasped himself as he slid in too quickly and paused with just the tip inside, his hands planted on either side of your head to grip the sheets in earnest.
“Oh my god, oh my…fffuuck sorry, shit, didn’ mean to–” Your walls pulsed around him and he froze, but his lungs seized to push out an airy moan that was so high you weren't sure he could ever copy it. “Ooohh, honey, are you looking at me? No, right?” He gasped out like he'd just been holding his breath. His hand slid over to thread through your hair, and he felt you shake your head with your face in the pillows. “Mmnh…okay, I got a good picture in my head. Jesus-” Morgan thrusted forwards, burying himself entirely in that impossibly tight space, and his grip on your hair jolted pain through you as he yanked it back. “-fucking christ! Shh-hit-”
It wasn't abnormal for Morgan to get a little lost in the thick of it when he was getting off, but things only grew more intense the longer you spent together. Somehow the honeymoon phase wasn't just a phase, but more like a transitional period; with every mundane effort Morgan got more sensitive to you, he liked you more, he was satisfied easier. You weren't sure what it was about him or you or both of you as a couple, but it seemed like every time you came together your boyfriend grew more attached to you. In fact, it felt like he nearly wanted to be a part of you–especially once he hit a good rhythm, and bucked his hips down with the aim of getting as deep into you as he could possibly manage.
“Feel it in your belly? Yeah?” He moaned from behind, lips flush to the back of your neck. “Ohhh, fuck, fuck–”
“M-Morgan-!” You spluttered out, having finally found your voice. You hissed at him to quiet down, to not wake up your neighbours so early in the morning, but he only bit down on your shoulder and his cries still thrummed muffledly throughout the apartment. You'd just have to accept your fate at this point. Morgan snaked a hand around your waist and pressed his huge, warm palm to your belly. The sensation of him sheathed inside you, whether imagined or really felt, had his hips pinned to your backside as he barely pulled back out to thrust. Every shlick, shluck, shluck vibrated through your body as he let your sweet walls suck him in closer.
His fingertips grazed your scalp to remind you he was there, to ensure his grip on you wasn't forgotten as he rutted against you with moans wasted against your skin. I love you, I love you, I love you. Those words would be his if his teeth weren't sunk into your flesh as he grunted them, humping feverishly to claim that end he wanted so badly. Morgan pitched you forward further into the blankets, weight pinning you completely under him; and with your nails dug into the crisp sheets you'd just washed this week, you felt a cord inside you snap with need that awashed you, suddenly, with an all-encompassing sense of bliss to block out the ache of Morgan's depth. He shuddered, stilled, and your woeful spasming rendered him utterly speechless–he stiffened and blew out each burst of love he'd kept locked up, and only as he did so did he finally melt into your sweat-soaked back like his bones had turned to jelly. His teeth finally unlatched as he shivered out a deep sigh, a kiss placed to your broken skin before he laid his cheek to your spine and puffed out each low, laborious breath in time with your heartbeat.
As the peace slowly returned, your high coming down with relative ease, you shifted slightly only to feel a dribble of hot, sticky warmth pulse downwards. Like glue, it stuck the two of you together, but you nudged at Morgan to move himself apart so you could clean up from the aftermath. For once, he agreed without complaint and slid off of your tired body to roll over on his back beside you. The expression on his face could be described as nothing less than complete, serene bliss as he caught his breath, one of those huge hands perched on his chest.
“See?” He panted, eyes blankly staring up at the ceiling. “Super…fast.”
“You made a mess,” You hushed dryly, slipping out of his loose grip on your thigh to head into his bathroom. You wobbled, caught yourself on the nightstand, and although he called out in worry if you were okay, you certainly were. A bit of stumbling was nothing new when Morgan and the bedroom were involved. “I'm taking a shower.”
“Me too?” His face lit up, he heaved himself up on one elbow to face the bathroom door, and before you could stop him with an absolutely not, you mongrel he was already feeling his way along the wall to slip inside. Joining you would almost certainly lead to something even messier, but…it was Morgan. That boyish charm, messy curls, bright, freckled smile as he patted your face and lifted it up to kiss it–the soft rasp of his voice as he let you know how good you were, how nice you felt, how beautiful he knew you were, the hand on your lower back as he steadied you and nudged the dial to spray a hail of fresh, warm water to soothe your aches…and how could you ever, ever say no to that?
36 notes · View notes
thebunnednun · 3 days
Text
Build a Boyfriend 🧸🩷
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Pairing: Pro Hero! Mirio Togata x Build a Bear helper! Reader
Summary: Mirio takes Eri to Build a Bear and falls for the pastel goth helping Eri pick out a new cuddle buddy. After some intervention from the guys he stumbles into her registrar to find she's even prettier up close and thinks he missed his chance with her.
Until he finds her note.....
TW: Cuteness overload
On with the show!!~
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The workshop was buzzing with the low hum of families, children, and the occasional burst of laughter as small hands sifted through shelves of soft, plush animals. The inside of the store was a bright kaleidoscope of colors—soft pastels, warm yellows, and gentle blues—all blending together to create a welcoming, cheerful environment.
Display stands were stacked with teddy bears, bunnies, and a whole host of other creatures waiting to be brought to life by eager kids.
At the heart of it all, the sound of stuffing machines whirring and squeaking filled the air, punctuated by the chatter of customers and employees. Soft pop music played overhead, further adding to the lively yet calming atmosphere.
A few young children were gathered near the sound booth, picking out voice boxes with silly phrases to stuff inside their soon-to-be cuddly companions. Others ran up and down the aisles with parents trailing behind, trying to keep up.
Mirio stood at the front of the store with Eri, his hand gently resting on her head as she stared wide-eyed at the rows upon rows of plush animals. Her large, curious red eyes scanned the store with wonder, her small hands clutching the hem of her dress, shifting slightly as she took in the world of soft toys around her. Mirio, ever the doting older brother figure, smiled down at her, eyes sparkling with excitement for her.
It was sensory overload for her, truely. And while he felt bad about it, Mirio would rather Eri get the full experience of picking out her snuggle buddy than choosing it fo herr. He wanted this to be a gentle push into feeling more secure and independent for Eri.
Plus, he just wanted to spoil her. 
“Alright, Eri, feel free to look around, okay?” Mirio said brightly, crouching down to meet her gaze, his grin wide and reassuring. “I just need to pop to the restroom for a sec. But don’t worry—Shinsou’s on his way, and I’ll be right back.”
Eri nodded shyly, her gaze shifting from Mirio to the endless selection of stuffed animals. He gave her a gentle pat on the head before standing up and sending a quick text to Shinsou, letting him know where they were. After giving Eri another smile and checking the time, Mirio quickly made his way toward the back of the store, disappearing into the hallway.
Eri, now left to her own devices, wandered through the aisles slowly. She kept her hands close to herself, unsure if it was okay to touch anything. She passed by shelves filled with fluffy bunnies, tiny bears with sailor hats, and even some superhero-themed plush toys, her steps hesitant and light.
Meanwhile, you were working the floor, wearing your red apron over a pastel goth outfit that contrasted sharply yet charmingly with the colorful ambiance of the store.
Your black, ripped jeans paired with the soft lavender of your belt, along with streaks of pastel blue and royal purple in your hair, stood out against the otherwise bubblegum, playful environment. Your outfit was a perfect blend of soft and edgy, a subtle rebellion that felt at home in a store that encouraged creativity and individuality.
As you helped another customer pick out accessories for their bear, you spotted Eri, her small form almost lost among the towering shelves. She seemed unsure of where to go or what to do, her wide eyes darting from shelf to shelf as if searching for something familiar.
“Hey there,” you greeted softly, approaching her slowly so as not to startle her. You crouched down a bit to her level, keeping a respectful distance. 
“Are you looking for someone special today?”
Eri blinked up at you, her eyes a little wary but not frightened. She nodded, pointing toward the top shelf where a fluffy white bear sat. It was out of her reach, and you could tell she didn’t want to ask for help outright.
You smiled warmly, standing up and walking over to a nearby ladder. “Let me grab something real quick, and then you can do the honors.”
After propping the ladder in place, you climbed up to grab a toy "grabber" from a top shelf—a long plastic tool that could be used to reach high items. You offered it to her, the soft click of the mechanism echoing slightly as you showed her how to use it.
“Here, why don’t you give it a try? You can get the bear all by yourself,” you said, handing her the grabber with a gentle smile.
Eri hesitated for a moment, her fingers twitching nervously around the grabber’s handle. But after a moment, her determination kicked in. She extended the tool toward the bear, eyes focused in concentration as she squeezed the handle and caught the plush animal.
With a small, triumphant smile, Eri pulled the bear down, holding it carefully in her arms as though it were fragile. You gave her a little cheer, nodding in approval.
“Great job! That’s a cute one,” you said softly, watching as she hugged the bear close to her chest, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Do you want to make it extra special? I can help you with the heart ceremony.”
Eri looked up at you, curiosity filling her eyes. She nodded, and you led her to the heart ceremony station, where the soft plush hearts were kept. You gently explained the steps, making sure to give her the space to do everything herself, guiding her through the motions.
“Rub your heart in your hands for warmth,” you said with a kind smile, mimicking the action with your own plush heart. Eri followed suit, her small hands rubbing the heart together.
“Pat your heart for your friend's heartbeat forever, rub them on your head for smart thoughts, and rub them on each other so they know you're best friends.”
As you continued through the ceremony, Eri became more engaged, a light giggle escaping her lips as she touched the heart to her elbow when you added with a playful grin, “And don’t forget to tap your elbow so your new friend will always be funny!”
Eri’s eyes lit up with the little details, and she smiled brightly as she hugged the heart to her chest before placing it inside her new bear.
Behind her, in the shadow of the store’s entrance, Mirio watched quietly, a warm smile creeping across his face. He hadn’t expected to see Eri so at ease, especially in a new place. The way you respected her space, never crowding or overwhelming her, made his chest swell with gratitude. He was about to step forward when he felt a familiar presence behind him.
“What’re you staring at?” Shinsou’s voice broke the moment as he approached, giving Mirio a teasing look.
Mirio turned with a grin, his blue eyes bright as he spotted Shinsou approaching. Shinsou, dressed in his usual casual wear—a dark hoodie and jeans—stood out among the bright colors and vibrant energy of the workshop. His messy purple hair framed his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets, watching Mirio with a raised brow.
“Just watching Eri have a good time,” Mirio replied, motioning toward the heart ceremony station. Shinsou’s eyes followed, his expression softening slightly when he saw the little girl happily finishing up the ceremony with her new plush bear. She was beaming now, her earlier hesitancy gone, replaced by a sense of accomplishment and joy.
“Looks like she’s having a good time,” Shinsou muttered, his tone more affectionate than usual. He had grown attached to Eri in his own quiet way, often showing up to hang out with her when he could.
He wasn’t the type to get openly sentimental, but moments like this made him feel lighter.
Mirio clapped a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder, his grin widening. “Thanks for coming, by the way. I know it’s not your scene, but Eri likes having you around.”
Shinsou shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well you know I can’t say no to her.”
As they stood there, watching Eri carefully adjust her bear’s fur you approached with a gentle smile. Spotting Mirio and Shinsou near the entrance, she gave them a nod of acknowledgment before turning her attention back to you. 
“Does your bear have a name yet?” you asked softly, crouching down again to meet Eri’s eye level. She looked up at you with that same small smile, thinking for a moment as she hugged her bear tighter.
“Yes,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, but there was a sense of pride in her choice. Mirio watches with some confusion as Eri whispers it to you.
“That’s a perfect name,” you said with a warm chuckle, standing up and adjusting your apron as you prepared to ring her up. “Let’s get him all set up, then.”
Eri followed you toward the shelves with outfits, clutching Lemi in her arms as she gazed around the store one last time. You noticed how she kept glancing toward Shinsou and Mirio as if checking to make sure they hadn’t disappeared. They both gave her a reassuring wave from across the store, and she visibly relaxed, her steps becoming more confident.
You glanced up from the shelves, your eyes briefly meeting Mirio’s. He stood near the entrance, staring at you a little longer than necessary, his broad shoulders outlined by the glow of the afternoon sun. He had that goofy grin, the one that lit up his entire face, but there was something more behind it, a quiet admiration in his gaze.
Just as you return to checking on Eri, a figure sidled up beside Mirio. Shinsou, with his shit eating grin, elbowed him lightly in the ribs.
“You’ve been staring at her for five minutes, man,” Shinsou teased in his usual deadpan tone. “Why don’t you just go over there and say something?”
Mirio blinked rapidly, his grin faltering for the briefest moment as his face flushed a deep pink. “W-What? No, I wasn’t—”
“Yeah, right,” Shinsou cut in, rolling his eyes. “I could practically hear your heart pounding from across the room.” He gave Mirio a little push toward you and Eri, who was carefully adjusting the tiny outfit on her new bear, completely oblivious to the commotion behind her.
“Go on, big guy. She’s right there.”
Mirio stumbled forward, awkwardly regaining his footing with a sheepish laugh. His usual confidence was nowhere to be found as he approached, Shinsou trailing behind him with a lazy, amused stride.
You stepped in front of Eri protectively the moment you saw the two boys approaching. Instinctively, you put yourself between her and the newcomers, your body tense as you sized them up, ready for anything. But before you could say a word, Eri’s face lit up at the sight of her two of her favorite boys.
“Mirio! Shinsou!” she squealed, her eyes bright with excitement. She hopped up and down on the spot, holding her newly made bear in front of her like a prized possession.
The tension in your shoulders eased slightly, but you stayed close to Eri, watching the interaction carefully. Mirio’s flustered expression softened as he knelt down to Eri’s level, his smile warm and familiar again.
“Hey Eri! Who’s this?” he asked, motioning toward the bear in her arms.
Eri beamed, a little confused, and pointed up at you. “She’s my new friend.”
Mirio leaned in, squinting at you with a faux-serious expression. “New friend, huh? Looks like a tough one,” he said, his voice light. You huff and laugh before he stuff his hands in his back pockets and rocks before he then pokes the bear gently and then adds with a sincere tone, “You’re so cool, Eri!”
Eri giggled, hugging the bear closer and you nod, “She is!”
You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, the warmth of it spreading through you. Eri seemed so comfortable with him, like a big brother and his quiet, teasing friend.
“So,” you began, looking between the three of them, “is this your brother?” you asked, gesturing toward Mirio, though you couldn’t quite keep the teasing edge out of your voice.
Mirio laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Ah, no, not exactly. But I do look after her,” he explained, his eyes softening as he glanced at Eri. “She’s special to us.”
You nodded, your heart warming at his response. “That’s sweet. You seem to care about her a lot.” Just as you were about to hand Eri back over to Mirio, the workshop’s door swung open once again.
The air in the room shifted as a tall, scruffy figure walked in, wearing his signature black scarf draped loosely around his shoulders.
Aizawa, with his ever-tired eyes and a slight slouch in his posture, made his way toward the group, his wallet already in hand. His gaze flickered between you and Eri, who immediately perked up at the sight of him.
“Dad!” Eri called out, her small voice carrying across the room.
Aizawa’s tired expression softened at her excitement, and he gave a small nod before turning his attention to you. “I see you’ve made a friend,” he said, his voice low but not unkind. He held up his hero license for your reassurance. “I’m her guardian.”
You blinked in surprise, your cheeks flushing as you realized your earlier assumption. “Great, these guys are nice but I couldn’t release her to them without a parents' permission,” you stammered, bowing your head slightly. “I just wanted to make sure she was with someone safe.”
Aizawa’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. “No need to apologize. You did the right thing by being cautious. I appreciate how well you’ve treated her.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, a sense of relief washing over you. Eri, still clutching the golden teddy bear, grinned up at Aizawa, clearly happy to see him. Mirio, ever the optimist, gave a thumbs-up toward you.
“See? You’re great with her,” he said, his usual enthusiasm returning.
Aizawa ruffled Eri’s hair gently, glancing over at you once more. “Thanks for helping her. She doesn’t trust people easily, but she seems to like you.”
Eri nodded vigorously, hugging the golden bear tighter. “I do!”
You could have been knocked over with a feather with how happy you felt making that little girl smile and help her create a core memory.
The moment settled into a quiet comfort, the soft hum of the workshop around you, as Aizawa stood by Eri’s side, and you felt a quiet sense of connection with the little girl.
She has a good family here, no doubt about it.
You chuckled softly to yourself as you grabbed the small wooden step stool tucked near the counter. With a fluid motion, you brought it over to Eri, who eagerly clambered up onto it. Her tiny hands reached up toward the counter and placed her new bear, who sat proudly.
The excitement in her eyes was contagious as she carefully took in the action of you scanning the bear and filling in the information Aizawa gave you into the database before sliding her friend back into her hand, giving the bear a quick once-over as if to make sure nothing was out of place.
“Look! Isn’t he cute?” Eri beamed, holding the new playmate out for Aizawa and Mirio to inspect. Mirio, still a bit flustered from earlier, managed to nod, though words seemed to escape him. Shinsou, as usual, wasn’t going to let that slide.
“Come on, big guy, she’s waiting for some praise,” Shinsou said with a raised brow, nudging Mirio with his elbow.
Mirio blinked, looking between Eri and the bear as if his brain had short-circuited.
“Y-Yeah! She’s adorable!” he finally managed to say, his voice a little too loud in his eagerness.
You smiled at the scene, turning back to Eri. “Alright, let’s fill out these ‘adoption papers’ for him, okay?” You handed Eri a small form—a fun, simple sheet for her to fill out with her little buddies name, favorite activities, and promise to care for her new friend.
Eri took the sparkle pom pom pen with a determined nod, sitting cross-legged on the stool as she began writing carefully.
As Eri focused, her soft voice floated up toward you. “Just like with me!” she said brightly, her small hand gripping the pen a little tighter.
The words sent a wave of silence through the room. It was as if time itself froze. Mirio, Shinsou, and Aizawa all exchanged looks, the weight of her innocent statement hanging in the air. The unspoken gravity of her situation, how she was adopted by Aizawa after everything she had been through, washed over the group. 
You, on the other hand, had pieced it together when you saw the two walk in and seen how nervous Eri seemed with touch. Hence why you offered her some alternative instead of being more hands on like your coworkers. 
For a moment, the noise of the workshop dimmed, replaced with a quiet reverence of her writing.
Before anyone could respond, the door burst open, and Izuku came stumbling in, dripping wet, his breath ragged and his wild hair sticking to his forehead. It was immediately clear what had happened—he’d just been thrown into the fountain outside. 
Again.
“I-I’m okay!” he wheezed, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Eri’s solemn face broke into pure delight at the sight of him.
“Izuku!” she cheered, waving enthusiastically, her spirits immediately lifted. She proudly signed the adoption papers with a flourish before handing them to you.
You smiled warmly, taking the papers from her and carefully boxing up the teddy bear. “Alright, your new friend is all set,” you said, handing Eri the box, which she clutched to her chest protectively.
Before anyone could fully relax, Monoma and Bakugou came charging into the room, both out of breath and clearly mid-argument.
Monoma was the first to speak, of course. “Just so you know, he—” he pointed dramatically at Bakugou “—backhanded Izuku into the fountain.”
Katsuki snarled, glaring daggers at Monoma. “Tch, for once it was an accident! I was trying to punch you.”
“Is that supposed to make it better?” Monoma scoffed, crossing his arms.
“Would my fist up your ass make it better?” Bakugou barked, clenching his fists as the two squared off, their bickering quickly escalating.
Aizawa sighed deeply, massaging his temples. “Of course,” he muttered under his breath before excusing himself from the registrar desk. He stepped between the two boys, his exhaustion palpable.
“Enough,” he said flatly, voice laced with authority, but it didn’t stop them from grumbling at each other.
Shinsou, watching with a smirk, took this as his cue. He gave Mirio a subtle nudge forward, his hands resting casually behind his back as if he hadn’t just shoved the older boy in your direction. Mirio, unsteady and blushing all over again, stumbled toward you, barely managing to stay upright.
“Guess you’re up,” Shinsou said with a sly, Cheshire grin before trailing after Aizawa, clearly entertained by the chaos.
You raised an eyebrow at Mirio, who now stood awkwardly in front of you, looking like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. His usual confidence had all but evaporated, leaving him standing there, fidgeting under your gaze.
You continued packing up a few more supplies, carefully organizing the boxes behind the counter. The soft rustling of tissue paper filled the air as you folded up some final pieces of merchandise, stacking them neatly. Mirio, still trying to recover from Shinsou's teasing, stumbled up toward you, his large frame knocking gently into the edge of the registrar desk.
“Oh! Sorry about that!” he blurted, immediately looking down at you with an apologetic smile.
You glanced up, amused by his flustered state. “No sweat. Nothing's broken, so we’re all good.”
You waved off his apology with a casual grin before returning to your packing, carefully organizing the boxes behind the counter. The soft rustling of tissue paper filled the air as you folded up some final pieces of merchandise, stacking them neatly.
“So,” you began, trying to ease the tension with a playful smirk, “is getting pushed around by 'Shinsou' part of the usual dynamic, or is this a special occasion?”
Mirio laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, I think he’s just having fun at my expense today,” he admitted sheepishly, his smile returning, albeit a bit more bashful than before.
Eri, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity to step up beside you, clutching her newly boxed bear and watching you curiously. She tilted her head, her brows furrowing as she observed both you and Shinsou in the distance. 
“Are you… emo? Like Shinsou?”
Mirio tensed beside you, his eyes going wide at the question. He shot you a nervous glance, as if expecting you to be offended. But instead, a laugh bubbled up from your chest, light and genuine, filling the space between you all.
“Emo? Nah, not quite,” you said, still chuckling. You ruffled Eri's hair lightly with the pen before pointing to the purple and blue streaks running through your own. “But I get why you might think that. I’m actually a pastel goth.”
Eri's face lit up with curiosity, her eyes widening as you untied your apron and did a playful little spin in front of her. “See?” You gestured to your outfit—ripped black jeans, a pretty lace pastel top in your favorite shade, and the rainbow chains that connected from your belt to your pockets that added a splash of color to your otherwise dark base palette.
“And these are my favorite!” You lifted one foot to show her your dip-dyed tennis shoes, a soft gradient of pastel shades fading into the white canvas. “I made these myself.”
Eri’s mouth formed a perfect “O” of awe, her small hands reaching out as if to touch your shoes. “Wow! How did you do that? They’re so pretty!”
You crouched down to her level, smiling as you explained the process. “Thank you, sweetie! It’s called tie-dye. You take plain shoes or clothes, tie them in different spots, and then dip them in different colors of dye. You can get all kinds of patterns that way! Want me to show you?”
Eri nodded enthusiastically, already imagining the possibilities.
Throughout the exchange, you didn’t notice the way Mirio was watching you. His eyes followed your every movement—how you spun effortlessly, the way you smiled so warmly at Eri, how you explained things with ease. His heart raced in his chest, he gulped, trying to shake off the strange, intense nervousness crawling up his spine.
Mirio couldn't understand why it suddenly felt so hard to breathe, why his palms were sweating. Every time he tried to speak, his mouth dried up even more, like a dessert made out of sandpaper topped with crunchy peanut butter. 
He desperately wanted to look away, but his gaze was drawn to you, like a magnet pulling him in despite his mind screaming at him to just fade into the wall and disappear.
Still, Mirio couldn't help but stay, silently rooting himself to the spot, unable to tear his eyes from the scene unfolding in front of him. The way you connected with Eri, the easy laughter between you—it was like a warmth that had settled into the room, and though it made him flustered, he didn't want to leave.
You were still kneeling, explaining the basics of tie-dye with a smile, using your phone to show her how she could create something similar. Mirio stood stiffly, watching you with wide eyes, and though he was usually the picture of calm confidence, today was different.
His nerves kicking up in full force.
He wanted to speak, maybe even add something to the conversation, but his brain couldn’t form the words. It was as if the more he watched you interacting with Eri, the more his thoughts and nerves tangled themselves into sweaty knots.
Still, you kept the conversation flowing naturally, completely unaware of the inner turmoil Mirio was going through.
"It’s all about experimenting and having fun with colors,” you said, showing Eri how different patterns could form.
Eri nodded eagerly, fascinated by every word, while Mirio stood beside you, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt like a deer in headlights, but every time you smiled or laughed, it felt like someone turned the temperature in the room up a few degrees.
Mirio blinked, snapping back to reality just in time to notice Shinsou staring at him from outside the store. 
Shinsou’s eyes held a mischievous glint, as he subtly gestured toward you with a small nod of his head. Mirio followed the motion, his mind catching up with the situation. His heart skipped when he realized Shinsou was egging him on, pushing him toward you in a way that was just as playful as it was serious.
Behind Shinsou, Fatgum and Kirishima were rolling up to join the growing group, both exchanging easy grins. Fatgum seemed relaxed, his large frame towering over the others, eating some mall pretzels, while Kirishima waved enthusiastically, clearly trying to disarm the chaos that was unfolding.
Meanwhile, Aizawa stood a little farther off, arms crossed, his usual weary expression in place as he muttered something to himself.
“Herding cats is easier than dealing with them,” Aizawa complained under his breath, side-eyeing Bakugou and Monoma, who were still bickering like two kids fighting over sub vs dub anime.
Izuku was caught in the middle trying to remedy the situation, still damp, as Monoma had his hands up in a dramatic display of innocence, while Bakugou looked like he was one second away from cold blooded murder.
Tamaki, ever the quiet one, had appeared in the background, looking completely lost in the flurry of activity. His wide, nervous eyes darted between his friends, trying to figure out what exactly was going on.
But when Shinsou leaned in and whispered something in his ear, a faint blush immediately crept up Tamaki's neck, turning his face a deep shade of red. He turned and gave Mirio a hesitant but determined “game face,” his sharp, elfin ears twitching slightly as he forced himself to give a thumbs-up of encouragement.
Mirio’s heart warmed at Tamaki’s attempt to cheer him on. A bright smile broke out on his face, a silent thank you to his friend. With Tamaki’s confidence-boosting thumbs-up and Shinsou’s teasing still hanging in the air, Mirio’s determination grew. He squared his shoulders and turned back to face you, taking a steadying breath.
But when he looked at you again, he nearly forgot how to breathe entirely.
Eri had somehow found her way into your arms, comfortably perched on your hip. Her small fingers were gently poking at your ear piercings, her wide, innocent eyes full of fascination as you let her touch the little hoops and studs. You were watching Mirio now, meeting his gaze with a calm smile that made something inside him turn to mush. 
'Fuck.'
It was like all the noise in the background—the bickering between Bakugou and Monoma, the faint grumbling from Aizawa, even the shuffling footsteps of students in the distance—faded into nothing.
“Uh…” Mirio started, trying to find his voice, but his throat felt impossibly dry again.
“Are they gonna be okay?” You nodded slightly toward the commotion behind him, where Bakugou’s voice had risen several notches as he squared off with Monoma.
Just as you asked, both Bakugou and Monoma shouted something unintelligible, their voices overlapping in a chaotic burst of sound. You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, but nodded as if nothing was amiss.
Mirio rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his fingers brushing against the short hairs at the nape as he grinned awkwardly. 
“Yeah...they’ll be fine.” He tried to sound confident, but his mind was a mess of thoughts he couldn’t quite grasp. He noticed, more than ever, how close you were standing, with Eri resting in your arms like she belonged there, her small hands still occasionally fiddling with your piercings. 
The way you cradled her so naturally made something stir inside him—a mix of admiration and awe.
His heart started pounding again, the way it had before, but this time it was louder, more insistent. He couldn’t stop himself from noticing the little details about you. The way the light in the room softened around your face, casting a gentle glow on your skin. The hint of colors in your hair, the soft purples and blues catching in the air like a breath of wind. 
And that smile—warm, inviting, and effortlessly beautiful. It made him feel like he was standing in the middle of a sunlit field on a perfect summer’s day, the kind where everything was alive and vibrant, and you were the brightest thing in it. 
You weren’t just pretty. No, pretty was too small of a word to describe how you made him feel. You are beautiful.
'Breathtaking.'
Not just because of how you looked but because of your whole aura. It was like you radiated this light, this quiet strength, that made people around you feel safe and welcome. It was in the way you held Eri so gently, like she was the most precious thing in the world, and the way you spoke with such ease, your words always soft yet full of warmth.
Mirio could swear he saw the rest of his life in your eyes at that moment. He imagined laughter, quiet moments, and endless afternoons spent in the kind of peace only you seemed to carry with you. It hit him like a wave—this overwhelming sense of admiration and something more, something deeper, that he wasn’t sure how to name yet.
You tilted your head slightly, studying him for a moment. “You okay there, Mirio?”
Your voice broke through his swirling thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Mirio’s cheeks flared with heat, and he quickly rubbed the back of his neck again, this time laughing a little too loudly.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good!” He forced out the words, his smile still bright, though a bit shaky. “Just... you know, keeping an eye on those two,” he added, motioning again toward the argument that was now simmering behind him. 
Kirishima had dropped his bag of hair dye in favor of holding onto Bakugou’s middle, whose hands were crackling faintly, while Izuku stood in front of Monoma, bandaged arms spread as Monoma looked like he was enjoying talking shit way too much.
Aizawa was laying into them for doing this again in public as Shinsou was holding up Tamaki who looked like he wanted to pass away from the onlookers and Fatgum is trying to divert the attention while also handing out fliers to his favorite restaurant in the mall. 
“Yeah, they totally have it under control.”
You glanced in their direction before looking back at him, your lips curving into a smile that sent his heart racing all over again. “Seems like you've got your hands full.” You poke Eri in her belly and she squeals before holding onto you again.
Mirio chuckled, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.”
Just then, Eri tugged gently on your sleeve, drawing both your attention. “Can I see the shoes again?” she asked, her voice small but eager.
You smiled down at her, giving her a little nod. “Of course.” You shifted her in your arms and then lifted one of your feet, showing her the soft colors of your tie-dye shoes again. She giggled, reaching out to touch them, her fascination with the colors and patterns not yet fading.
And as Mirio watched the scene unfold—the way you moved so effortlessly with Eri in your arms, the soft way you spoke, the ease with which you brought light into the room—he couldn’t help but think, 
‘Yeah, I’m a goner.’
Mirio blinked, his mind momentarily lost in the haze of his own thoughts as he watched you. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until he noticed your lips moving, the soft curve of them drawing his attention. For a second, all he could focus on was the way they shaped each word, the gentle rhythm of your voice fading into the background.
He didn’t register what you were saying—just that you were talking to him.
Then, as if shaken from a dream, Mirio blipped in surprise, his eyes widening as he coughed awkwardly. “Oh! Sorry! I—uh, what were you saying?” His voice cracked a little, his embarrassment clear as he rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “I’m so sorry, I’m not sure what’s up with me today.”
You chuckled softly, a sound that made Mirio’s heart skip a beat. There was no judgment in your eyes, just warmth. “It’s okay,” you said, your tone teasing but kind. “Are you okay, though? You seem a little… distracted.”
He forced a smile, though his heart was still racing. “Yeah, I’m good now. Just—” Mirio stumbled over his words for a second before letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “I think I just spaced out for a bit.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, clearly unconvinced but playful. “Well, as long as you're not running on empty or something.” You flashed him a smile, and Mirio couldn’t help but return it, feeling the tension ease a little.
The two of you fell into an easy rhythm after that, making light conversation. You asked him how his day had been, and he asked you about yours. The small talk flowed effortlessly, and despite the occasional flustered moments on Mirio’s end, the interaction felt natural. You told him a funny story about one of your coworkers accidentally scanning a customer’s face instead of their item, and Mirio laughed, his usual cheerfulness slipping back into place. 
He was starting to feel more like himself again, even as he struggled to keep his thoughts from wandering back to how much he liked your smile and how warm and good your voice is.
He could listen to you read the phone book for all he cares!
As Mirio lingered, his gaze darting between you and the door, he finally cleared his throat, summoning a bit of courage. "You know," he started, rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar, nervous way, "you’re, uh… pretty good with Eri. I bet you could make a career out of making people feel special."
You laughed softly, raising an eyebrow as you leaned against the counter.
"Oh yeah? Does that include you?"
Mirio froze for a moment, his heart skipping a beat before he quickly stumbled over his words. "W-Well, I mean… you’re already good at that too." His cheeks flushed pink, and he tried to recover by flashing you one of his signature, bright smiles. "I guess I’m just lucky to be on the receiving end."
You smirked, crossing your arms as you leaned in a little. "Is that so? Mm, I’ll have to make sure to treat you extra special next time, then."
Mirio’s face heated up further, but he managed to chuckle nervously, scratching his head. "I, uh… I wouldn’t mind that."
Suddenly, a small voice piped up from below. Eri was tugging at Mirio’s sleeve with a sweet smile on her face.
"Are you two flirting?" she asked innocently, her eyes wide and curious.
Both of you blinked in surprise, exchanging a quick glance before bursting into laughter. You crouched down to Eri’s level, gently ruffling her hair.
"Maybe a little," you teased, glancing up at Mirio, whose face had turned a deep shade of red.
Mirio bent down too, his hand resting on Eri’s shoulder. "Just a little," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "You caught us." Eri giggled, clearly pleased with herself. "I like it. It makes you both smile."
You and Mirio shared a look again, warmth spreading between you as her innocent words sank in. Smiling, you reached out and gave Eri a playful poke on the nose. "Well, we’ll just have to keep smiling for you then, won’t we?"
Eri perks up at that and looks at you with something you can’t place. But she leans into your face to close her eyes and hug you tight. You return the hug, your cheek against the crown of her head and let your warmth radiate into her.
Mirio’s heart swelled at the sight, his smile soft and sincere. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice a little quieter now. 
"We will."
Outside the store, the once-heated argument between Bakugou and Monoma was finally winding down. Their voices, which had been loud and chaotic earlier, were now quieter, only a few muttered grumbles echoing in the distance. Aizawa reappeared shortly after, looking more exasperated than before but clearly relieved that the chaos had subsided.
He approached the counter, tired eyes flicking over to Eri, who was still happily holding the box containing her new teddy bear. “You all set, kid?” he asked, his voice softening ever so slightly when addressing her.
Eri nodded eagerly, hugging the box tighter. “He’s ready to go home!” she declared with a big smile.
You smiled at the sight, already scanning the item at the register as Aizawa fished around in his pocket for his wallet. As you rang up the bear, your fingers discreetly punched in a few extra numbers on the keypad.
Mirio, standing just off to the side, happened to glance over and caught the brief flash of numbers. He furrowed his brows slightly, noticing that you’d keyed in what looked like a discount code. Before he could say anything, you turned to him with a wink and a sly smile, your lips curling at the corners in the most mischievous way.
You handed the bag you placed the packages in to Aizawa with a casual grace, as if nothing unusual had just happened. “Here you go,” you said, leaning down slightly so Eri could see the bag. “Take good care of him.”
Aizawa gave you a nod, his expression as unreadable as ever, though there was a slight glint of gratitude in his eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. He turned to Eri. “Ready to go?”
Eri nodded enthusiastically, still cradling her new friend. But before they left, she looked up at you with wide eyes. “Thank you for helping me adopt him!” she chirped happily, her excitement contagious.
You smiled back, giving her a little wave. “Anytime, Eri. You and your new friend take care of each other, okay?” She nods and holds up the box to the frazzled group of boys before tugging Aizawa with her to go show them. 
As Aizawa and Eri made their way out of the store, Mirio stood there for a second longer, watching the interaction with an odd mix of admiration and butterflies. You turned to him once more, your smile lingering, and for a brief moment, he swore the whole world had narrowed down to just the two of you.
“You like kids, huh?” Mirio finally asked, his voice light with amusement as he raised an eyebrow.
You gave him another wink, the same mischievous glint in your eyes. “What can I say? Perks of the job.”
“Mirio come on!” 
“I’ll be right there!” 
The blonde waves to you before racing out of the store (almost hitting his face in the glass doors too) before rejoining the group outside. The atmosphere was filled with a blend of excitement and warmth. Mirio stands off to the side, watching you as you got back to work, expertly tying your apron into a neat bow around your waist, your fingers deftly maneuvering the fabric. 
There was a lightness in the air, a hint of magic lingering in the moment, and he couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Eri’s excitement.
“Hey, how did it go?” Shinsou nudged him playfully, a sly grin spreading across his face.
Mirio chuckled, scratching the back of his head, his cheeks a little pink. “Oh, you know, just normal stuff,” he replied, trying to play it cool despite the butterflies dancing in his stomach.
The boys—Izuku, Kirishima, Monoma, Bakugou, Tamaki, and Fatgum—quickly gathered around, their curiosity piqued. “Did Eri get her new friend?” Izuku asked eagerly, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.
Eri piped up, bouncing on her toes. “I did! His name is Lemi!” she declared proudly, clutching the plush bear to her chest. Mirio felt a rush of emotion at the name; it felt personal, like a little piece of her heart wrapped in the soft fabric.
“Lemi? That’s adorable!” Kirishima exclaimed, leaning closer to get a better look. But then Eri faltered, her expression shifting as she realized she hadn’t dressed him yet.
Just then, Aizawa approached, his expression mildly bemused. “You can come back another day to dress him,” he said, and Mirio, without thinking, immediately volunteered, “I’ll take her!”
Eri’s face lit up, and she eagerly opened the box for everyone to see, her excitement palpable. “Look!” she exclaimed, revealing Lemi nestled among other items.
Bakugou, who had been watching with a critical eye, leaned in. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, crossing his arms with a hint of suspicion.
Aizawa paused, confusion flickering across his face before he reached into the bag and pulled out what looked like a small collection of outfits. The group gathered closer as he spread the items out on a nearby table in the food court, their eyes widening in amazement.
“Are those…?” Kirishima began, his voice trailing off as they all realized the outfits were mini versions of their hero costumes.
Mirio felt his heart swell with pride and warmth. He glanced at Eri, who was practically glowing with joy, her eyes shining like stars. When she spotted Mirio’s hero costume tucked inside, she squealed in delight.
“Look! It’s just like yours!”
With an infectious smile, she hugged him tightly, and in that moment, Lemi echoed a familiar phrase: “You’re so cool!” Her joyous squeak made everyone burst into laughter, and as she dropped the bear in surprise, Bakugou lunged forward, catching it just in time.
“Careful!” Bakugou grunted, a mix of irritation and fondness in his voice. The group shared a knowing look, the camaraderie palpable.
Izuku gently took the bear from Bakugou and squeezed its tummy. “Wow, it talks!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with amazement. Lemi chimed in again, this time explaining that the voice must have come with the bear.
Mirio’s heart raced as he pieced it all together, realizing you must have been the one holding the voice box when he first approached Eri. A warm smile spread across his face at the thought of you crafting this magical experience for her.
Just then, Aizawa pulled out a note from his pocket and handed it to Mirio. There was a hint of a smile on his usually stoic face. “This is for you,” he said, his tone teasing yet encouraging.
Mirio took the note, his breath hitching slightly as he swore he could feel the warmth from your fingertips  had left for him. 
As the teasing continued, Mirio felt a wave of nervousness wash over him, the excitement now mixed with anxiety. The note felt heavier in his hands, and he was unsure how to handle the sudden attention. With a quick glance at Tamaki, he decided to pass the note to him instead, hoping his friend might read it without the weight of all their curious eyes on him.
Tamaki accepted the note with a shaky hand, his face a mix of confusion and surprise. He cleared his throat softly before unfolding it, his cheeks already turning a deep shade of red. As he read, the whispers and laughter around them faded, all eyes drawn to him.
Mirio watched anxiously as Tamaki’s eyes widened, a hint of disbelief crossing his features. “U-um…” he stammered, before glancing back at Mirio, his voice barely above a whisper. “S-Sorry,” he managed to say, quickly handing the note back with a beet-red face.
“What does it say?” Izuku urged, leaning in closer, curiosity shining in his eyes.
Tamaki, flustered, mumbled, “It’s… um… really nice.”
Mirio took the note back, heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath and began to read aloud:
“Hey! :D Mirio, right? Thanks for being so wonderful today! I really enjoyed spending time with you and Eri. You’ve got a really cute smile! If you’re not seeing anyone, let's hang out soon! If you ever want to chat or need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d love to hook Lemi up again. ;3
Looking forward to seeing you and your Eri<33! — Your local Pastel Goth
x-678-999-8212
It was a simple thank you, but at the bottom, your number was scrawled neatly, making his heart leap.
Eri watched him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “What does it say?” she asked, her tiny voice full of curiosity.
“It’s a note from the lady,” he said, unable to hide the grin on his face. “She said we can plan more fun days together.”
The boys exchanged glances, a mix of surprise and teasing delight washing over their expressions. Eri squealed with excitement, her little hands clapping. “She thinks you’re wonderful!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy.
“Look at Mirio, all blushing!” Monoma laughed, while Bakugou rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a smirk.
Mirio’s heart raced, warmth creeping into his cheeks as he tried to play it cool. “It’s just a note,” he stammered, but the grin on his face betrayed his feigned nonchalance.
“Just a note? Dude, that’s definitely more than just a note!” Kirishima chimed in, clapping him on the back with enthusiasm.
Tamaki, still blushing, looked down at his feet, mumbling, “I-I think she likes you…”
As the teasing continued, Mirio couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness blooming inside him. The nervousness ebbed away, replaced by excitement at the thought of seeing you again. Eri’s bubbly enthusiasm and the camaraderie of his friends made it all feel so much brighter, like everything was finally falling into place.
Bakugou rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “You’re such a dork,” he teased, earning a playful shove from Kirishima.
Fatgum chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You boys better watch out. Mirio’s got a secret weapon now,” he said, gesturing to the note with a grin.
As the playful banter continued, Mirio felt a swell of happiness. The bond he was forming with you, Eri, and the rest of the group felt like a bright beacon in his life. He couldn’t wait for the next mall adventure, knowing that you would be a part of it.
“Let’s get home before your classmates burn the dorms down.”
🌞 😄 🧱 👊🌞 😄 🧱 👊🌞 😄 🧱 👊
As the day wound down and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow through the window of Aizawa’s living room, Mirio found a cozy spot on the couch with Eri nestled against him. The warmth of the moment wrapped around them like a comforting blanket, Eri’s small fingers clutching the note you’d written, her eyelids growing heavy as sleep threatened to claim her.
Mirio, still buzzing from the day’s events, felt the soft rhythm of Eri’s breath against him, her little body rising and falling in a peaceful slumber. He couldn’t help but smile, his heart swelling with affection for the girl who had quickly become so dear to him. The note rested on his chest, a tangible reminder of you and the promise of more moments to come.
Just then, Shinsou, lounging nearby, couldn’t resist the urge to capture the scene. He quietly pulled out his phone, careful not to disturb the tranquil atmosphere. The sight of Mirio, looking blissfully content with Eri curled up beside him, was too precious to pass up. With a mischievous grin, he snapped a quick picture, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his face for just a moment.
“Adorable,” Shinsou whispered to himself, stifling a chuckle as he looked at the picture. Mirio stirred slightly but didn’t wake, a gentle smile still gracing his features. The room was filled with a sense of warmth and safety, the bond between them solidifying in the simplicity of the moment.
As Mirio drifted further away, he felt a sense of contentment wash over him. It was a day well spent, and he couldn’t help but look forward to what tomorrow would bring for them all. 
🌞 😄 🧱 👊🌞 😄 🧱 👊🌞 😄 🧱 👊
The morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table where Eri, Mirio, and Shinsou were happily digging into a stack of fluffy pancakes. Eri’s eyes sparkled with delight as she drizzled syrup over her stack, the sweet smell wafting through the air.
As they chatted and giggled, the sound of shuffling feet approached. Aizawa emerged from his room, tousled hair and sleepy eyes, just as Yamada bustled in, carrying a plate piled high with golden pancakes. 
“Good morning, Shouta!” he called cheerfully, setting the plate down in front of him.
“Did everyone sleep well?” Aizawa asked, his voice still raspy from sleep as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
Eri beamed up at him, her cheeks stuffed with pancakes. “I slept great! And guess what, Mr. Aizawa? Mirio called that lady from the store last night to set up a playdate at the park today! We’re going to hang out together!”
Mirio’s face instantly turned crimson, his cheeks matching the color of a ripe tomato as he fumbled with his fork. “I, uh... it’s not like that!” he stammered, his embarrassment palpable. Shinsou, sitting across from him, stifled a laugh behind his hand, a smirk spreading across his face as he watched Mirio squirm.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Just be safe, you two. And remember to keep an eye on Eri,” he added, glancing pointedly at Mirio, who was still blushing fiercely.
“Of course!” Eri chirped, her excitement infectious. Mirio, despite his flushed face, couldn’t help but feel a rush of joy at the thought of seeing you again. He grinned, the anticipation bubbling within him as he tried to play it cool. 
“Yeah, we’ll have a great time!”
Meanwhile, on your end, you were sprawled across your bed, heart still racing from the phone call. Your face was buried in your pillow as you squealed, muffling the sound of your excitement. He really called me! He really called me! you thought, replaying every detail in your mind, savoring it like your favorite song.
You remembered the moment his number flashed on your phone screen. Not knowing who it was, you picked up with a casual, "Hello?" but inside you were buzzing with nerves, especially when you heard his voice crack a little as he started talking.
"H-Hey! It's Mirio... I hope I'm not calling too late," he said, his voice warm but tinged with a kind of awkwardness that made him even more endearing. You could practically see him rubbing the back of his neck, just like when he’d been standing in the store earlier.
"No, you're fine!" you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you pressed the phone tighter to your ear. You had just finished working around midnight before heading home to eat a grilled cheese and shower before climbing into your black strawberry print sheets.
Did your bones ache? 100% absolutely, no doubt about it. But you really liked the afflictions of his voice and it beats the boyfriend asmr you listen to sometimes to fall asleep. 
"What’s up?"
There was a pause, and you could hear him exhale, almost like he was gathering courage. "I, uh... Eri wanted to go to the park tomorrow, and I thought maybe... if you’re not busy, you could... join us? If you want. No pressure! I mean, it’s just a park. A public place. With, you know, swings and stuff... so, uh..."
You giggled softly, letting him off the hook. "A public place, huh? That sounds very safe. I'd love to come along."
He sighed in relief, but then there was a moment of silence before he awkwardly admitted, "I... actually realized I never got your name. Kinda... embarrassing, huh?"
You grinned, teasing him just a little, "Oh, so you called me without even knowing my name? Bold move, Mirio."
He chuckled nervously. "Y-yeah, I guess so! I just... I couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it was talking to you today. You’re, like, really easy to talk to. And, uh..." He hesitated again, and you could feel the shift in his tone, his vulnerability coming through.
"You’re really pretty, too. That’s... part of it. You’ve got this energy, you know? It’s just... it feels good to be around you. So I figured I’d take a chance."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt a wave of warmth spread through you. You teased him again, just lightly. "Oh really? Well, you’re not too bad yourself. I’ve gotta say, you did look pretty good today with the sun shining over you like that."
'I wanted to bite your lips when you smiled.'
There was a bashful laugh on the other end of the line. "You think so? I felt so nervous talking to you, I thought I might trip over my own words."
"Well, you did great," you replied softly, feeling your own nerves start to settle. Talking to him was surprisingly easy, despite how flustered you both were.
You thought back to the way he had smiled earlier, how his eyes crinkled in the most charming way when he looked down at Eri, and how, for a moment, you'd feel a little flutter of nerves yourself. Thank God for Eri being there to smooth over the tension. You found yourself wishing you had asked him for a hug before he left.
'No,no,no, that would be weird! AGH!'
As you lay there now, hugging your pillow, your mind wandered back to how close he’d stood to you, and that same flutter of nerves returned. You dropped the pillow from your face and sat up, grinning like a kid. Your heart was still racing, but this time it was all excitement.
“Can’t wait,” you whispered to yourself, the smile lingering on your lips as you hopped out of bed to get ready for tomorrow’s ‘play date’—if that’s what you could even call it. 
You had a gut feeling it would be more than just that.~
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I'm whipping up a part 2, what do you all think?
Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!
I own none of the images or art!!!
Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Bakugou here in the master list. I also have a Pro Hero! Bakugou x Sugar Baby fic and a Aizawa Fic.
Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.
I promise I bite~
See you soon my loves!!
(。・ω・。)ノ♡
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freakyformula · 2 hours
Text
How could I say no to such a pretty plea...
Summary: Reader and Max "wind down"
Writers comment: I've been wanting to do a Max fic for so long now and I finally got to it lmfao
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, praise kink, smut without a plot, google translated dutch, oral (both receiving), fingering, not proofread
Word count: 1,1k
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"Max, please…" You whine as you look down at him between your legs.
His mouth was attached to your drenched cunt, working you up towards another orgasm.
"You're so beautiful, liefje. My good girl." He says as he dives down again, preparing her for him.
You feel him sucking on your clit, and then he adds a finger, teasing your entrance.
It slowly slips in and you both moan in unison.
"So fucking wet for me." He says in awe and curls his finger toward your sensitive spot, making you roll your eyes back and see stars.
As he adds another finger, you feel the stretch, but it's a nice and very welcome feeling.
"More…" You ask of him.
"Patience, love." He states.
He's good with his hands, there's no denying it. He knows exactly how to make you feel good. Something you hadn't experienced with any man before.
Max pumps his pointer and middle finger in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. You grab his wrist out of instinct to pull him and his fingers closer, deeper. Then, he pulls out of your sopping pussy, making you grunt disapprovingly.
He knows exactly how to tease you and you can confirm that his antics work.
"Only good girls get to cum." He says with a smirk on his face, leaning back.
"I am! Please, I'll be a good girl for you, Max."
"To prove it, I'll give you a task. Now, wait here."
And with that, Max gets out of the bed and undresses in record time. You take a moment to admire his naked body and Max takes notice, posing for you.
"Like what you see?" He beams at you.
You nod, biting your lip.
He crawls back into bed and grabs your face and squeezes your face, making your jaw fall open.
"Open up wide for me, you want to be good for me, don't you?"
And you do as you're told and open even wider.
He brings his cock to your mouth and you close the space between his tip and your lips. Max surely enjoys the treatment as he leans back on his back.
As you bob your head up and down, you also grow bolder, going deeper. When you feel his tip at the back of your throat, you start gagging. Max's head springs up to look at you in an instant.
He smiles at you, "Just a little deeper, okay, mijn schat?" He asks of you.
You look up at him with hooded eyes, sucking on him languidly, feeling his hands at the back of your head. He isn't pressing you down, but rather guiding you further down on his length. You haven't even worked down half of his cock yet.
You take a deep breath and manage to swallow his member just a little bit further down, gagging, struggling, and desperate to make him feel good. Max pulls you off him after a couple of seconds and you gasp for air. You repeat the same procedure a couple of times.
"I-I'm close." He admits as he pulls you off him one last time.
He sits up on his knees and hovers over you, making you fall back on your back as you straddle his hips.
"Do you feel ready for me?" He checks in as he idly plays with your clit and adds a couple of fingers into your heat.
"Max, please, need you." You breathe out.
"How could I say no to such a pretty plea…" He answers as he gives his cock a couple of pumps and lines himself up with you, adding some lube to his tip.
You could swear that you'd never get used to Max's size. He wasn't just long, he was also thick. The first time you did it you thought he wouldn't fit but after a couple of attempts, it worked.
"I'm so sorry for hurting you, liefste. The pain will be worth it." He tries to comfort you.
As he works his tip into you slowly, you tense up and whimper, making it impossible for him to get in.
"Shhhh, relax." He leans down and peppers kisses all over your face. His gesture makes you relax just enough for him to slide in, if only just a couple of millimeters, but enough for you to yelp.
He watches your contorted face and holds your head in his hands.
"Deep breaths… I wish I could do something to make this easier." He looks down at you with pity in his eyes.
You focus on your breathing and on Max's face, giving him a pained smile.
When he pulls out and penetrates you a little further, you scream out in pain. Your pussy was on fire, it felt like. Sliding your hand down between your bodies and to the place you were connected, you felt him pumping his tip in and out of you carefully. You start circling your clit to feel some sort of pleasure and you quickly feel the familiar feeling of ecstacy building up.
When you feel ready, you pull him a little closer with your legs.
The burning sensation wasn't as intense as before, you start to actually enjoy him pushing his way deep inside of your tight pussy.
"Mijn god..." He whispers in your ear.
As he bottoms out, you grunt loudly, enjoying the feeling of him in you.
He looks at you for approval to move and as you give him a quick nod, he starts to pump into you slowly, still taking care not to hurt you.
"You feel so good, Y/N, I won't last long." He breathes out.
"Please, please, please..." You shant.
He slides out and picks you up with his strong arms, turning you around. You end up on your hands and knees, much to Max's liking. This was your favourite position and you were sure he enjoyed it as much.
Before you can comprehend that you've even turned around, you feel him sheathing his cock inside of you again.
Max and you moan out in pleasure, with him pumping into you and holding you close. He slides his hands down to your lower stomach, feeling his cock deep within you through the skin.
You feel yourself getting closer again as he starts playing with your clit and picking up the pace even further.
"Cum with me, yeah?" He asks.
"I'm close!" You yell out.
And with a couple of final thrusts, you feel Max's cock twitching and you tumbling over the edge. You both scream out your orgasms and grab each other for some sort of stability.
As you come down, Max collapses on top of you, clearly tired, just like you.
"That was..."
"...Amazing." You finish with a smile.
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monstersandmaw · 12 hours
Text
Monthly story - male bat-like forest monster x male character (nsfw)
This one was a really sweet one to write, though as ever, it's about 10k words longer than I intended. I hope you enjoy these two and the autumnal forest vibes. There are also a couple of tiny little Gabe & Odessa easter eggs in there, if you spot them...
Summary: a heartsick author books a remote fire lookout tower for some solitude after a messy breakup, and for the chance to finish his latest novel, only to fall slowly in love with a voice over the radio.
Content (light spoilers): stormy conditions, then lost while hiking, forest entity attacks with constricting vines (not romantic interest). Nsfw includes oral, no penetrative, messy sex, come marking(?), and there's some purring too.
Wordcount: 13,238
(for the tower lookout vibes, this reddit link should help)
Preview:
“You’re renting a what?” Lavinia snorted, setting down her coffee cup with a clunk and gawping at Bowen like he’d just grown another head. Or maybe like he’d lost the one he’d had to begin with.
“I’m renting an old fire lookout in the Pinewatch Range for a month.”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” she blurted. “Seriously, I know the breakup with Mike fucked with your head, and with good fucking reason because the man is a complete —”
“— it’s not about the breakup, Lav,” Bowen interjected heavily, taking a sip of his own drink and wincing. Instead of his usual coffee, he’d opted for a remarkably bland chamomile tea, and was regretting it enormously. “It’s just… I’ve been wanting to work on my novel. I think a place with no electricity other than a solar panel to charge my phone and radio, and no running water, is going to suit me just fine.”
“No running water?” Lavinia looked truly horrified at that. “Seriously? How are you gonna shower? And, like… flush the toilet? Oh my god, don’t tell me you have to shit in the woods…”
At that, Bowen bit back a rare, true laugh. “There’s a composting toilet in an outhouse. It’s not like I’m turning into a bear.”
She eyed Bowen’s gut, which was just a little softer than it had once been, and raised one eyebrow. “Sweetheart, if you put on a red flannel shirt and grew that thick scruff out into a proper beard, you’d be the definition of a bear.”
He rolled his cocoa-brown eyes at her and leaned back in the farmhouse style chair, gazing around at the new coffee shop that had opened up on North Street. Lavinia looked out of place in the cutesy, rustic tea room, but as usual, she paid her surroundings little mind. Instead, she regarded him from under her heavy, Goth makeup, with a back-combed bird’s nest of box dyed, black hair piled atop her head. Behind the dramatic makeup and the false eyelashes that looked like the kind of spiders Bowen only found in the deepest recesses of his basement, he could see real concern in her features,and his heart squeezed. He’d isolated himself too much from his friend in the past six months, and now he was running away to the wilderness.
He leaned forwards, just catching the creak of the rattan beneath his jeans above the clatter of the cafe as the chair shifted and groaned a little, and he rested his weight on his forearms. “Honestly, this will be good for me, Lav. I need to unplug for a while.”
“I’m just worried you’re not gonna be able to plug back in afterwards,” she muttered darkly. “I take it you don’t get phone reception out there?”
He shook his head. “Nope. There’s a radio that connects you to the forest service in an emergency, and there are a few other old lookout towers in the area, but unless there’s a very lost hiker, I won’t see another soul for the whole month.”
“Jesus,” she hissed. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing. And if I come across Mike in the meantime, I’ll hex his bollocks off and make him rue the day he dumped you.”
“You already did that.”
Something flashed in her eyes. “I made him rue the day he dumped you, but it was sweet little ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt’ Hazel that hexed him.”
Bowen rolled his eyes and chuckled fondly. “You and all that witchy shit, Lav. Ever since you watched The Craft in high school…”
Easy-going Bowen had always respectfully humoured his best friend’s interest and belief in the Occult, but he’d never subscribed to anything spooky himself. The spookiest thing that had ever happened to him was a traffic light going from red to green as he approached it. Hardly cause to call the Ghostbusters in, after all.
At first, he’d thought Lav had been joking, or just using some affectionate name for the group of people who had all met after class and at the weekends, calling them ‘her coven’, but over the course of their university degree, and the subsequent years of employment, he’d come to discover they all actually believed in the supernatural. Then again, Mike’s apartment had flooded the week after he’d ditched Bowen, and his had been the only one to suffer any damage. There was now some lingering problem with a particularly stubborn and rather toxic mould all over the ceilings, according to Lavinia’s mystical sources…
“Just promise me you’ll take good care of yourself, and you’ll fucking phone me the second you get back to civilisation,” she growled, and he solemnly promised with hand on heart to keep her updated when he could.
A week later, Bowen’s pickup bounced up the rutted track to the fire lookout station, with a fortnight’s worth of water and camping supplies lashed down in the bed. The nearest town of Pinewatch was a jolting, twenty mile trip down dirt roads before even reaching the main, tarmac road to get there, so he’d be using the truck for a resupply run in a couple of weeks, but until then, he figured he had everything he needed. At least, he hoped he did.
Read the whole thing on Patreon, plus gain access to every monthly story so far and join our chilled out Discord server here!
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cheynovak · 2 days
Text
Healing Waters - pt 8
Characters: Azriel x F/Reader Y/N     
Summary:  Azriel is sent by Rhysand to the Spring Court to investigate Tamlin's erratic behavior. While spying in the woods, he comes across Y/N, an Illyrian female bathing under a waterfall. Intrigued by her beauty and shocked to see the scars where her wings should have been, he is immediately captivated.
Warnings: 18+ish.... Hurt, pain, anger, nudity, spying, aggression, ...
English is not my first language 
*This story is my own fanfiction, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 
Part 8/8
* Published September 23th 2024 *
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** Y/N's POV **
Even though Azriel had just... well, fucked the breath out of my lungs, I still couldn’t sleep. The bed was too soft, and I was afraid to move and wake him. I hadn’t expected him to stay, yet there he was, lying beside me.
I watched him, how his chest rose and fell with each steady breath. His eyes were closed, one hand resting on his stomach, the other loosely on the pillow.
My gaze wandered over the inked lines of his tattoos, trailing down to where his hand rested just above his abs, the muscles still defined even in rest. The sheets covered him just enough, but I could still see the sharp lines of his pelvis, the veins disappearing under the fabric.
A deep hum interrupted my thoughts, his voice low and rough. “Stop staring,” he muttered, still not opening his eyes. “Get some sleep.”
Caught, my face flushed as if I were a teenager busted sneaking glances. I bit my lip, embarrassed but unable to help the soft laugh that escaped me.
Still unable to sleep, I whispered, "I can’t."
One of Azriel's eyes opened, and he looked at me, smirking. “Need another round?” His flirty tone made me smile. The stiffness that often came with his role as the Shadow Singer was gone, revealing a more playful side of him.
He caught me biting my lip, my body still sore from our previous round, and before I could even answer, he yanked me into his arms, almost on top of him. One hand cradled my head against his chest, while the other stayed firmly on my hips. Our legs tangled together instinctively, his warmth radiating into me.
Feeling the hard muscle under my head, I couldn’t help but relax. “Better?” he asked softly.
“Very much,” I whispered, finally letting the tension drain from my body as I closed my eyes. In his arms, I drifted off to sleep for the first time in what felt like forever.
** Azriel's POV **
The morning light poured through the window, illuminating her hair with streaks of black, brown, and deep red. I couldn’t stop running my fingers through it, the long strands slipping between my hands, sending sparks of warmth through every part of my body. Every muscle, every vein hummed with certainty—this is it.
She is it.
My mate.
My mind started racing. Did she know? Could she feel it? The bond was undeniable now, but what if she didn’t realize? What if she didn’t want this? What if she left? Would I follow her anywhere? Would I follow her to the spring Court. And better yet, would Tamlin accept me?
I couldn’t imagine letting her go. But the thought of revealing the truth, that she was my mate, suddenly filled me with a mix of hope and fear. If she didn’t want this bond...I couldn’t bear the thought.
I held her closer, burying my face in her hair as I tried to calm the storm brewing inside me.
On instinct, my hand moved over her naked back, tracing the curves of her shoulders as I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She stirred awake with a soft hum, her hand lazily running over my chest, her fingers trailing lightly, sending shivers through me. Her nails grazed over my nipple, and a sharp breath escaped my lips.
Noticing my reaction, she leaned in and kissed the spot, teasing it with her tongue before softly biting it. The sensation shot through me like lightning, and I let out a breathy, dangerous warning, “Y/N...”
But there was no stopping the tension building between us again.
She was playing with me, her mouth trailing higher, leaving a line of warmth over my skin until her lips hovered just inches from mine. “You like that, big boy?” she teased, her voice low and full of mischief.
To my own surprise, I responded, “You can bite me anywhere, anytime,” the words slipping out before I could even think to stop them. I pulled her fully on top of me, letting her feel exactly what she was doing to me. Her breath hitched, and I could see the shift in her eyes. I wasn’t the only one feeling the heat between us.
** Y/N's POV **
My hips grind against his.
I grinned at his response, feeling the power I had over him. His words echoed in my mind, and I decided to take full advantage of it. Slowly, I lowered myself to his chest again, my lips grazing his skin, placing gentle kisses down to his abdomen.
“What do you like, Azriel?” I whispered, my breath teasing his skin as I traced the lines of his muscles with my fingertips. His body tensed beneath me. I nipped at his side, earning a low groan from him. “Tell me,” I said, my voice sultry, “Do you like it when I bite you here?” I bit down softly on his ribs, my eyes flicking up to watch his reaction.
His breathing grew heavier, his hands gripping the sheets, but he stayed silent, his eyes locked on mine, dark and hungry. I moved to his hip, where the skin was softer, more sensitive.
“Or maybe here?” I nibbled lightly, and his whole body jerked. His reaction sent a thrill through me, and I laughed softly, nipping harder this time. “Come on, Azriel... Tell me what you like.”
His jaw clenched, his lips parting as a moan escaped him. “Everywhere,” he growled, his voice strained. “I like it everywhere.”
I lowered myself, my lips trailing down to his hips, biting softly, feeling his hard cock twitch against his abs. I wanted to return the pleasure he had given me, to make him feel just as good.
My tongue traced the sensitive skin of his shaft, while my hand struggled to fully encircle him.
I took him into my mouth, savoring the way he twitched and responded to my touch. My movements were slow and deliberate, my mouth working around him as I maintained eye contact, watching his reaction.
His breathing quickened, and I could feel his hands gripping the sheets tightly. The low, ragged sounds coming from him only spurred me on, and I continued, determined to bring him as much pleasure as he had brought me.
I had never enjoyed this before; my past experiences had left me feeling like a mere instrument rather than a participant. But here, with Azriel, I felt a thrilling sense of control.
My teeth gently scraped his shaft, and his hands tightened in my hair, yanking me down roughly. For a moment, my body stiffened, the old trauma surfacing, but Azriel immediately noticed and let go, his eyes filled with concern and apology.
I took a deep breath, shaking off the tension, and answered him with a determined lick. His touch was gentle now, allowing me to reclaim my rhythm. I continued, moving with a newfound confidence, eager to give him the pleasure he had so generously provided me. His reactions and the way he responded to me only fueled my determination, making the moment even more intense and intimate.
** Azriel's POV **
The second her teeth grazed my shaft, heat surged through me like wildfire. Every instinct in my body screamed to pull her closer, to lose myself in the overwhelming pleasure she was giving me. Without thinking, I yanked her down, my grip too tight, too rough. Her body stiffened, and in that moment, I realized what I'd done.
Guilt hit me hard—I hadn’t meant to force anything, but my body craved more of her, more than I could control. I let go immediately, an apology on my lips. But then she surprised me—she didn’t pull away or stop.
The way she took control ignited something deep within me, something primal and consuming. I couldn't take my eyes off her as she moved, her body lit by the soft morning light filtering into the room. Her curves, her beauty—it was even more breathtaking now than when I first saw her by the waterfall.
She slid on top of me, her hips grinding against mine with a slow, teasing rhythm that set my entire body on fire. My hands moved instinctively to trace her form, caressing every inch of her as if trying to memorize her.
She guided my hands with hers, our fingers intertwined as she pressed kisses to the scars on my hands and knuckles—scars from a lifetime of pain.
But in that moment, all I felt was her. I could hardly breathe from the way she made me feel, like every broken piece of me was healing with each kiss, with each movement of her body.
"You’re so perfect," I whispered, barely able to find my voice.
Her smile was soft, almost shy, but it lit up her entire face as she leaned closer. When she kissed me, I felt her words resonate deep within my chest. “I never experienced this before,” she whispered between our lips, “a male that thought of my pleasure before his own.”
I couldn’t fathom how anyone could have ever wanted to hurt her—this perfect female who deserved everything good. The thought filled me with a quiet, simmering anger, but I focused instead on her, on the present, on making sure she never felt anything but cherished.
I sat up, my hand sliding gently down her back, my lips grazing her jawline before I whispered, “I want you to feel everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Every pleasure, every touch that’s meant only for you.” Her eyes locked onto mine, and I could feel the trust, the vulnerability, and the desire all mingling in that look.
She was giving herself to me, and I swore to myself I wouldn’t let her down. Slowly, I shifted her, letting her feel every deliberate movement, every lingering caress, as I laid her down again, promising her everything with my touch.
** Y/N's POV **
Azriel’s lips were soft against my neck, sending shivers down my spine that made it hard to think straight. He made me come so many times I lost count.
But I still could feel the tenderness in his every touch, his every kiss. He was different this morning—softer, sweeter, more gentle than I had ever expected. I loved it.
I loved…
No, that was ridiculous.
I couldn't love him, could I? My heart raced at the thought, my mind spiraling. Could I really fall for someone like him, someone who made me feel safe, wanted, cherished? Could he be…? My thoughts broke the moment his lips trailed further along my neck, pulling me back to the present.
His voice, deep and soft, cut through my daze. “Do you want to take a bath?” he asked, his words so simple but carrying a tenderness that warmed me. I blinked, feeling a little embarrassed as I admitted, “I’ve never had real bath before.”
He lifted his head, his golden eyes searching mine with gentle surprise, and without hesitation, he smiled. "Then let me show you," he murmured, his hand slipping into mine as he guided me from the bed, his touch reassuring, comforting.
Azriel pulled me into the tub, his strong body slipping in behind mine as he adjusted his wings to fit comfortably. The tub itself was designed to accommodate wings like his, something I never would’ve considered before. My back pressed against his chest, his warmth seeping into me even through the hot water. I let my head fall back against his shoulder, feeling a sense of calm I hadn’t known in decades.
His hands moved slowly, reverently, over my body beneath the water, tracing every curve, every scar with the same care he’d shown me before. The warmth of the water, paired with the tenderness of his touch, made everything feel more intimate than I could have imagined. It had been so long since I felt anything like this—safe, cherished, and… loved.
I closed my eyes, letting out a soft hum of contentment as his fingers moved along my arms, my sides. The water lapped around us, soothing every tense muscle I hadn’t even realized was still coiled. The feeling of being enveloped by warmth, by him, was almost overwhelming.
“This is…” I trailed off, not knowing how to put it into words.
“I know,” he whispered, his lips brushing the top of my head. "Just relax. You deserve this."
Even when Azriel's hands touched my most intimate places—my breasts, my hips, even lower—it wasn’t like the heat from before, the raw passion we’d shared. This was something different, something deeper. His touch was full of care, tenderness, and something that felt dangerously close to love. His fingers traced along my skin with a gentleness that made my heart ache.
He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t taking more than I was ready to give. Every caress, every movement was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to remind me that I was safe. That this moment was about more than just desire.
I sighed softly, sinking further into him, into the comfort of his embrace. I had never known what it could feel like to be touched with such reverence, such patience. It wasn’t just about pleasure—it was about showing me what it meant to be cherished. For the first time in my life, I felt like more than just a body to be used.
“Azriel…” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly, though I wasn’t sure if it was from the emotions building inside me or the way his hands moved so delicately over me.
He pressed a soft kiss to the side of my head. “I’ve got you,” he murmured against my skin. And for the first time, I believed it. For once, I didn’t feel like I had to be on guard. Here, in this bath, with him, I could let go.
** Azriel's POV **
As I held her in the bath, the warmth of the water wrapping around us, I felt the tension creeping in. My heart hammered in my chest as I hesitated, before finally asking, "What's next? Are you… going back?"
I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t want her to return to the life she'd known before, not after everything she’d shared with me. Not after this. But she was quiet for a long time, and each second that passed felt like a blade twisting in my gut.
Please say no, I thought, again and again. I tightened my grip on her slightly, hoping she’d feel what I couldn’t yet say aloud.
She shifted slightly, her back still pressed against my chest, and I could sense the weight of her thoughts, the conflict that brewed beneath her silence. What was she thinking? Did she feel it too—this pull between us, this bond I was afraid to name?
Finally, she sighed, her voice soft but steady. "I don’t know, Azriel."
My heart clenched painfully at her words, though I tried not to show it. I knew she needed time—time to process, to heal, to decide what her future looked like. But the thought of her walking away, of not seeing her again, twisted something deep inside me.
“I…” she paused, her voice trailing off, and I could feel the uncertainty in her. “I don’t know if I can ever go back, back to what I was before.”
I swallowed hard, relief flooding through me, but I remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"I just… I need time to figure out what I want. Where I belong."
It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but it wasn’t a no either. I rested my forehead against the back of her head, my wings shifting slightly in the water, trying to mask the storm of emotions swirling inside me.
"Whatever you decide," I said, my voice hoarse, "you have a place here. You’ll always have a place here—with me." I hoped she understood the weight of those words, that I was offering her more than just a home.
She didn’t respond right away, but her hand found mine under the water, squeezing it gently. And though the uncertainty still hung in the air, I let myself hold onto that small gesture, praying it meant more than just comfort.
Even though she didn't accept my offer to stay with me, I was relieved that Rhys had given her a place in Velaris. It wasn’t the same as having her in my home, where I could protect her every moment, but it was enough. She was safe, still within the Night Court. Close enough that I could visit, could see her.
I made sure to visit her as much as I could—twice, sometimes three times a week. Each time, I’d bring her something small: flowers, her favorite pastries, or books I thought she’d enjoy. I wanted her to know she was cared for, that I was here for her, whenever she needed me.
When she let me in—whether it was her home, her body, or her heart—I cherished those moments. When she wanted to make love, I would take my time, letting every touch, every kiss, speak the words I couldn’t quite say aloud yet. And when she wanted something more primal, more urgent, I gave her that too, with all the passion she desired. Whatever she needed, I made sure to provide it.
But I was determined. I wasn’t just doing this for fleeting moments of intimacy. I wanted to show her that not all males were like the ones who had hurt her in the past. I wanted her to see what it was like to be treated with love, respect, and devotion—the way a male should treat his mate.
Because that’s what she was, even if she didn’t know it yet.
My mate.
I would be patient. I would give her time to heal, to find herself again. But in the meantime, I would be there for her, as a lover, as a friend, and when she was ready—as her mate. I would wait as long as it took for her to realize what I had already known from the moment I kissed her... No, from the moment I spotted her between the trees under the waterfall.
She was mine, and I was, completely and utterly hers.
--
Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.
Taglist: @lilah-asteria @sidthedollface2 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @mich0731
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amygdalagustd · 14 hours
Text
I didn't know that was a massage technique
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Summary: Yoongi has shoulder pain so you give him a massage.
Pairing: Yoongi × reader
Genre: fluff
Word count: 708
Series: tattoos and kisses
You were standing in the bedroom, hands on your hips, looking at your partner sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Shirt off,” you said in a fake demanding tone.
Yoongi raised his eyebrow, but gave in.
“Yes ma'am.” 
He pulled his shirt off. The hiss he made as he raised his arms above his head did not go unnoticed.
You climbed on the bed and positioned yourself behind him, determined to do something about that pesky shoulder pain of his. 
“Okay,” you said, “now relax.”
When you softly put your hands on his shoulders he immediately tensed up.
“That is the opposite of relaxing.”
“Your hands are cold,” he muttered.
You rolled your eyes, which he didn't see, but took a moment to rub your hands together and warm them up.
When you placed them back on his shoulders they yet again tensed up, maybe even more this time.
“You're so tense,” you said, feeling worried. “Relax Yoongi.”
“Never in the history of relaxing has someone relaxed after being told to relax.”
“Never in the history of massages has someone been this tense.”
“I doubt that.” Yoongi turned around to look at you as he was making his point. “Have you ever seen namjoon after working out-”
“Yes I have,” you interrupted him as you turned Yoongi back to face away from you, “now stop talking and start relaxing.”
“I want a different masseuse.”
You knew he was pouting even though you couldn't see it.
“Yeah, yeah, your life is so hard,” you said as started rubbing soft circles on his back. 
Despite all the complaints, you could feel Yoongi trying to relax under your hands. He took a deep breath, and as his shoulders went up and down again, a comforting silence fell in between you. 
You increased the intensity of your massage, paying attention to Yoongi's reaction, but he sat still as a tree.
“Does it hurt anywhere?” You asked.
“Not really.”
“You're lying.”
A single huff escaped from his mouth. "Fine, the usual spot.”
That meant his left shoulder.
You shifted your focus to the problem area and carefully went to work. At this point you knew exactly where to press and where not to press, how hard, how long. It made you feel sad that you couldn't completely take his pain away, so you made damn sure you didn't accidentally make it worse.
“Hmmm,” Yoongi mumbled after a little bit, “that's nice.”
Your thumb stroked across the little 7 tattoo on his shoulder.
It was such a cute little tattoo, with so much meaning, and you adored it. You loved teasing Yoongi with it, bragging about how he was now a tough guy, while the tiny 7 didn't take up more than a centimeter of his skin.
Before you knew what you were doing you had leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his tattoo. 
Yoongi turned around and locked eyes with you. Because you had just kissed his shoulder his face was really close.
“I didn't know that was a massage technique,” he said. 
You raised an eyebrow. 
“Did it help?”
The corners of his mouth turned up just enough to hint at a smile.
“It did,” he said. “You should use it more often.”
You blinked, not used to that kind of talk from him, and he took the moment to move closer and kiss you on the lips. You kissed him back and he leaned in, wanting more, and god you wanted to do the same, but you had a job to do. 
You pulled away softly and took note of the familiar pout on his face. “Turn back,” you said, “I wasn't finished yet.”
For a second you thought he was going to object, but then he turned around compliantly. 
You resumed your massage.
“You know,” you said, still feeling some tension in Yoongi's shoulders, “my special massage technique only works on people who know how to relax. So I guess I can't use it much on you”
“I hate you,” Yoongi grumbled.
“Nah,” you refuted, “you love me.”
As you felt him soften up under the gentle touch of your fingers, you didn't even need to hear him say it to know that it was true. 
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karda · 1 year
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wip of a tattoo im wanting to get for my dog pluto. what do u guys think ? i think a lot of memorial dog tattoos r depressing as hell so i tried to make it nice .
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fingertipsmp3 · 4 months
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Achievements today:
Did some tasks for my favourite work project
Did a qual to hopefully open up more projects
Diagnosed (sort of) and fixed bugs in my sims 2 game
Ran outside in the rain for the first time since school (which I only used to do because I was forced to)
Confused my elderly neighbour and his raincoat-wearing dog
Stroked the dog’s floofy head
Ran more than a kilometre without taking a walking break
#feel like the running thing is more impressive when you realise that it was raining diagonally at my face (directly into my EYES)#and wind chill was something like 9 celsius. i was wearing a t-shirt and leggings mind you#this was how i confused my elderly neighbour. he just shouted something at me and i was like ‘yeah i know frank’#then i fussed his dog’s head and his dog wagged at me <3#his dog looks JUST like my old doggy; kim. which is not surprising since they’re both flatcoated retrievers#i LOVE flatties but they all kind of look the same. i mean max is a bit bigger and i think he’s entirely black#kim had runt of the litter vibes and a big white stripe down his belly and two white spots on his paws#i used to think he was a mix but i’ve heard from flattie breeders that they sometimes breed them to be smaller on purpose#and that even purebreds can have white on them. so i don’t know. dog breed of all time tbh#oh ane the sims glitch was just that i kept getting the jump bug and couldn’t work out why#but i pulled a few files out of my mods folder and eventually it stopped#weirdly it was only/mostly happening in one household? but it made that household completely unplayable so i had to fix it#i also had to delete some custom food because my sims straight up couldn’t make it#i’d go ‘make breakfast -> oatmeal’ and they’d get all the way through the process of making it#but then the bowl would disappear and they’d have to make it again.. and again.. and again#so i deleted all the files by that same creator just to be safe#i have plenty of custom foods anyway. i don’t really Need to have oatmeal#i think i’m going to stop downloading mods now that i know my current configuration is fine#just cosmetic cc from now on. and probably a lot of it. i need clothessss everyone is just in t-shirts and jeans#which i mean.. so am i (usually. right now i’m in pyjamas) but still#personal
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