#who accidentally finds something in each other

[thrfted]

꩜ DATING MR. CRAWLING .ᐟ

SFW GN!Reader HCS after the blissful love life ending.

Italics is in the other world’s language! Sometimes more the implied message rather than a direct translation. I'll probably do Mr. Hood later too :3 !

Your bed is much more comfortable than anything in the other world, and it only makes it better that mr. Crawling gets to be in it with you. He grows accustomed to your nightly routine and is always excited to cuddle up. Big spoon, little spoon, facing each other—all of it makes him as happy as can be!

(^ As someone who still has a twin size, some of us have to invest in a much bigger one lol)

Generally so so affectionate and loves when you’re physically affectionate !! You can kiss his head and he’ll giggle, maybe point at his face and ask “Again!” You leave kisses all over his face, and his hands pull you in close when you finally kiss his lips.

One of Mr. Crawling's strongest traits is his patience—especially when it comes to you. The first day you come home without him trailing behind (much to his dismay, and honestly yours), he’s at the door to greet you, smiling and giggling as you wrap your arms around him. You find out he hadn’t done much but wait for you to come home. (With no complaints of boredom on his part, and all the worry on yours.)

He'll sit as you play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles or putting in clips. “Me cute? Pretty?” he asks. And if you let him do the same in return, he'll giggle and compliment you too.

I think he’d look through your closet and enjoy watching you try on clothes too. He compliments you and feels each of the fabrics, liking the ones that feel softest. He might try on some of the accessories if none of the actual clothes (sort of…) fit, and is really happy when you match!

Mr. Crawling is a fast learner. You worry he'll feel overwhelmed with all the new technology and words and whatever else, so you focus on making sure he’s comfortable. But he points at things and ask what they are, repeating after you. “You teach me language?” he asks and you laugh softly before nodding. “I teach you language.”

He will accidentally touch a hot stove top or pot if you don't remember to warn him beforehand. Then whenever you cook he gets worried you'll hurt yourself, watching to make sure you're alright (forgive him if he pulls your hand away and says “Danger! Don't touch!”)

Since he doesn't know his birthday, you make the day you returned special instead! He's happy to just stay in with you, eating a good meal and watching or learning something new.

Mr. Crawling also learns when yours is and does his best to make it a good day for you too. He tries singing happy birthday and makes food with what you have at home, mimicking the meals he's seen you prepare.

You teach him how to call your phone while you're away. It's supposed to “be for emergencies,” but you both know he's going to call just to hear your voice, and who are you to complain?

I think he gets sad sometimes when he sees or hears you talking to friends—the way you communicate and laugh so easily compared to conversations with him. The other world's language itself is limited, and he hasn't learned enough of your own. You spend some evenings reassuring him, reminding him learning is a process, and it doesn't change your feelings!!

He does his best to learn on his own. You buy (exercise) books and show him shows for younger kids and he spends a lot of time alone with them, both to surprise you, and also just because he loves talking with you and wants to talk more and more.

The first time he speaks your language is a special day. After many days of calling out that you’re back, he decides to say it himself. “You home!” You almost drop everything in your hands, and that’s when he continues, “Miss you.” It feels odd hearing it in his voice, but he’s grinning so wide, and you won’t find out for a while just how excited and nervous he was waiting for you to get home.

One of Mr. Crawling’s favourite things to say and hear is “I love you.” Every time you say it, he gets all giddy and tries to get closer to you (as if that’s possible while already cuddling in bed). He says it a lot while you’re doing chores or really nothing, just to remind you and see you smile. There’s no way in his mind for those 3 words to lose their meaning, or become any less special.

[hedwig221b]

Witch or magical Stiles recs..?

Hi! I did magical!Stiles fic recs here! This time, let's focus on witch!Stiles (my beloved)

A Thousand Fiery Suns of Angst - Just Press Play by apocryphal

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It's all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

The Wolf in the Tower by exclamation

Too many people are scared of witches so when Stiles accidentally sets a building on fire with magic, he is taken prisoner and dragged before Lord Hale. Rather than leave an untrained magic user free, Peter Hale thinks he might be able to make use of Stiles' skills and hands Stiles over to his sorceror Deaton to be trained. Stiles is still unsure about his future, but he's even more confused when he finds out that one of his new duties involves feeding the black wolf imprisoned at the top of one of the towers. There's something very strange about this wolf and Stiles can't help wondering if magic might be involved.

Dead Things by standinginanicedress

Derek blows some more smoke out. He chooses to look at Stiles’ mouth instead of in his eyes, again. “I need you to bring someone back.” “Back.” “From the dead.” “Absolutely not,” Stiles scoffs, shaking his head. “Not for you, not for all the money in the world.” Derek looks at him, just looks. He is not going to accept no for an answer, and Stiles knows it, but it doesn’t matter, because Stiles will not do that. He cannot do that, not again. “Why not for me in specific?”

For My Flesh Had Turned to Fur, and My Thoughts Had Turned to You by literaryoblivion

They’ve known about the other pack for quite some time now. They know the pack is young and small, formed together more by accident and necessity than anything else. But, they haven’t done anything about them because they’ve been fairly quiet, kept to themselves, and haven’t caused any trouble. That is until the Hales start hearing rumors about the McCall pack acquiring a very young and inexperienced but powerful witch. So Alpha Hale sends her eldest son, Derek, for all intents and purposes, to spy on the McCall pack and their so-called witch, to see what the truth of the situation is.

The Ink Under My Skin by rainsoakedshoes

Derek is looking for an Emissary. What he finds is Stiles Stilinski; resident witch. Stiles would do whatever it takes to protect the Hale pack and his Alpha. “I want to protect my pack as well as I can,” Derek continued. “Emissaries traditionally keep balance, having someone who wants to tip the odds in our favour may come in handy.”

Destiny is the Rising Sun by asswords

Stiles and Derek are best at keeping secrets – the biggest one being the fact that they knew each other long before Scott had to go and become a werewolf. (The second biggest secret belongs to Stiles, something about how he’s not allowed to tell Derek he’s the trusted advisor and kind of a witch.)

your fangs against my skin (the sound of your bones)

This was it, then, huh? It was that easy for Derek to invite someone to his den. Someone other than Stiles. He healed the wolf. Stiles killed his tormentor, mended his blood and bones, and let him sleep beside him. But none of it was enough. He wasn’t a spark, after all, but a witch — evil and alone, locked up in his tower. Witches didn’t get happy endings.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life. There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

These Scars Tell A Story (But It’s Not Mine) by HappyJuicyfruit

Derek’s eyes widened in confusion as Stiles babbled at him. “I know it’s not up to you, but you’re like, my guard, right? You’ve been keeping an eye on me? Tell your mom I wouldn’t lie about this, my dad deserves to stay here. He’s happy here, please let him stay!” Guard? Keeping an eye on him? “Stiles, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stiles face crumpled, his hands clung to Derek’s shirt tighter as tears and snot dripped off his chin. Derek frantically tries to think of the right thing to say. “You think- you think I’m your guard? That I’ve been watching you to, what, make sure you don’t do any magic? Stiles, that’s ridiculous. Beacon Hills is a sanctuary for supernaturals. We allow people to use their magic. I was just trying to be your friend.” Stiles breath hitched. “My friend?”

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | mafia | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse

[monstersflashlight]

hi can i ask for chubby m reader with gymrat orc and minotaur roomates. where they just came back from the gym about to take a shower together not realizing their chubby roomate was already in there and they get reallh horny after seeing him naked in the shower and fuck him together pls🥰

Sweaty

Orc x minotaur x male!reader || sharing is caring, shower sex, lowkey dirty talk

You were singing in the shower when your music was turned off rudely. “Ey!” You screamed, wiping your eyes and turning around in time to see the two pieces of meat that you called roommates. They were staring at you with open eyes and gaping mouths, and a smirk slowly spreading through their features.

It had been hell to share an apartment with two big monster himbos that knew no decency and spent most of their time half naked around you. Especially when they turned physical and started to make out with each other just because. You guessed they didn’t care if the human in the house watched, they paid you no attention at all. (Or so you thought).

You weren’t even sure they were a thing, but every time they were bored they started making out in the couch, driving you insane. You had to run out of your shared spaces more than on because they were on the edge of starting striping each other in front of you, not caring that you were there. You had to run to your room with a hot face and an aching hard on. You masturbated hearing them sigh and moan against each other more than once, much to your own embarrassment. But who could blame you? They were hot as hell and didn’t let you forget it.

And now they were staring at your naked body under the spray and smirking like you were their next meal. Fuck. You didn’t know fear erections were a thing, but right now you didn’t know what to feel when your dick started getting hard in front of you as you tried to cover. They weren’t trying to hide anything, though. Their smirks grew bigger and bigger, the green orc taking off his clothes in a rush of clothes as the minotaur struggled to get the sweaty shirt over his horns.

“Wha-?” You didn’t get to finish that thought before the orc was pressing against your back, completely naked and with an impressive hard dick pressing against your fat ass. He covered your neck with his hand as he caressed your chest with the other hand.

“Fuck, you two look so good together,” the minotaur whined as you felt him slip past you, pressing his front to your front, his very big erection pressing against your stomach. He accidentally touched the shower head with his horns, and the three of you got a spray to the face, making you choke as they giggled.

What the fuck was happening?

Between the sweat and the soap on your body you were slippery against their bodies. The rocking of two big monsters made you the filling of the best sandwich in existence, and when you whined, they cooed at you.

The orc started talking before you could verbalize your confusion. “You like that, little human? You like the feel of monster cocks against your slutty body?” You couldn’t answer, your brain too foggy because of their traveling hands. “You know we’ve been watching you, little human… We heard you jerking off as we made out. It was so hot.” Your embarrassment was making your brain even more foggy, all the blood rushing between your cheeks and your hard dick, rubbing against a slippery minotaur thigh. “We’ve been waiting for you to say something, but you haven’t… And then we come home after the gym and find you here, washing your lush body and moving your fat ass in beat to the song… Do you know what that did to me? To us?” They press their dicks against your soft body at the same time, making you groan like a bitch in heat.

“Don’t torture him, darling, he’s more than enjoying himself,” the minotaur said as he grabbed your cock and started pumping.

You whined, a green finger finding our mouth and making you suck on the digit as they groped and caressed your body along the warm water. It was intoxicating, arousing to the point of insanity, and you were so hard. You were so close and they barely touched you.

The orc pulled his finger away, his big hand traveling down until it found your puckered hole, and didn’t let you catch your breath before he was pressing inside, making you groan and plead, the minotaur’s hand against your dick making it difficult for you to focus. They were monster-handling you in tandem and it was almost too much for your poor human brain.

“Please,” you whispered, making them chuckle.

“What do you say, darling? Should we give our little human what he deserves?” You nodded vehemently as the orc behind you laughed loudly, the movement of his body making you press harder against the minotaur.

“Sure thing, let’s give him what he deserves,” the edge of his tone made you shiver in anticipation. You weren’t sure what was happening, but you weren’t about to question two big monsters about to make your fantasies come true.

The finger inside of you turned into two, and you felt a squirt of something against your crack, making you shiver at the coldness. The orc shushed you, his tusks against your pulse point as he opened you up rapidly. His fingers were so big, easily double the size of yours, and in no time you were begging him to fuck you. They laughed, teasing your nipples, your soft belly, your dick… The combination of sensations was making you see stars and they weren’t even inside of you yet.

“I call dibs!” The minotaur said, making the orc grumble behind you and say: “No way, I stretched him, I’m gonna cum in his fat ass first, he’s been driving me insane.” They bickered a bit more, but you were far beyond their voices, your body almost at the edge.

That’s why you weren’t expecting the big dick that pressed against your asshole and took your breath away. He pushed in slowly, and the minotaur claimed your mouth in a punishing kiss. He distracted you as the biggest dick you ever had bottomed inside of you, letting you accommodate for a total of two seconds before setting a frantic pace that had you trusting them to not let you fall, your knees already giving out on you.

“Come on, little human, come for us,” the orc whispered against your ear as the minotaur swallowed your groans.

It was like he hit a button and your body stopped responding, pleasure so high and so intense your vision blacked out for a second before you were screaming his name and rocking back into his hard dick. He grunted and thrust one more time before you felt his release painting your insides.

But they weren’t done. They turned your body around and your used hole was being filled again. A chorus of “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” coming from behind you as the orc chuckled and kissed your face tenderly. His pace was slower, but somehow it felt more intense and deep. His thrusts were controlled and before you could even comprehend what your body was doing, you were coming without even getting hard, a dry orgasm hitting your body and making you see stars. You felt his release inside of you not two seconds later, his sweet words against your neck as he came down from it.

Your body gave out and they grabbed you, laughing at each other as they cleaned you and themselves, kissing every part of your body accessible to them as you floated in a cloud of post orgasm bliss.

“I think we broke him,” the orc joked as the minotaur carried you out of the shower.

Yeah, he was probably right.

[dayabelle]

Close Enough to Stay

Pairings: Shota Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Lmk if I made any mistakes I didn't proofread at all

---

Y/n had never been one for grand entrances or dramatic encounters. She preferred the quiet moments—the kind where you could sit in the corner of a bustling coffee shop, headphones on, and let the world blur around you. But life had a way of throwing her into unexpected situations, and that’s how she met Shota.

Shota had the kind of presence that could fill a room without saying a word. He was stoic and reserved, the type of man who rarely showed what he was feeling but somehow made you feel it anyway. To most people, he seemed distant, almost indifferent. But beneath his quiet exterior was a man who noticed everything and cared more deeply than he’d ever admit.

They met in the most unremarkable way: in a library. Y/n had been browsing the shelves for something—anything—to take her mind off the noise in her head. She’d been struggling to choose between two books when a deep, even voice spoke behind her.

“That one’s better.”

She turned, startled, to find Shota standing there. His dark eyes scanned the book in her left hand.

“The author has a way with words,” he added, his tone as neutral as if he were commenting on the weather.

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “And what if I prefer this one?” she countered, lifting the book in her right hand.

“Then you’d be wrong.”

She blinked, unsure whether to laugh or take offense. But there was a subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth—the barest hint of amusement—that made her set the book back on the shelf and take his recommendation instead.

That was the beginning.

Their encounters in the library became routine. Y/n would always arrive with her bag slung over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up when she spotted him. Shota, ever punctual, was already there—usually seated at the same table near the back, where the sunlight filtered through the high windows. They’d share the space in comfortable silence, Y/n engrossed in her books, and Shota pretended to focus on his paperwork he always had, though he often found himself glancing at her instead.

Their conversations began gradually. At first, it was book recommendations or brief observations about the weather. But over time, their words grew longer, deeper. Y/n would tell him about her day as a nurse, the patients she cared for, and the challenges of being quirkless in a world that often underestimated her. Shota listened intently, his gaze steady and unwavering, offering the occasional thoughtful comment. He rarely spoke about himself, but Y/n learned to read between the lines, piecing together the puzzle of his life as a pro hero.

There were small touches, almost accidental at first—a brush of fingers when they reached for the same book, the fleeting warmth of his hand on her back as he guided her through a crowded aisle. Each touch sent a quiet thrill through her, though she tried not to let it show. Shota, for his part, seemed unaffected, but there were moments when his gaze lingered just a little too long, or his voice softened in a way that betrayed his carefully guarded demeanor. The curve of her lower back, her hair and the way she kept it, her eyes and how she looked at certain things, how warm his hand felt against her skin.

One rainy afternoon, their library routine changed. Y/n had been late, rushing in with windblown hair and an apology tumbling from her lips. She’d forgotten an umbrella, and the rain had left her soaked. Without a word, Shota shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, the faint smell of his cologne mingling with the dampness. Y/n looked up, startled by the gesture.

“You’ll catch a cold,” he said simply, his tone as even as ever. But there was a softness in his eyes that made her heart stutter.

From that day, their connection began to extend beyond the library. Shota learned more about her world—how she worked tirelessly as a nurse, caring for others despite the challenges of being quirkless. He admired her resilience, though he struggled to express it. Y/n, in turn, discovered the weight Shota carried as a pro hero. She noticed the faint scars on his hands, the shadows under his eyes after long nights, and the quiet way he carried the burden of protecting others.

One evening, after a particularly grueling shift, Y/n found herself sitting on the steps outside the hospital. She was exhausted, her scrubs wrinkled and her hair a mess. Shota appeared out of nowhere, his presence as grounding as ever. He didn’t say much—just handed her a cup of coffee and sat beside her. They didn’t need words; the quiet companionship was enough.

Over time, their bond deepened. Shota started showing up at her apartment unannounced, usually with takeout in hand. Y/n began leaving him notes in the books she returned to him, little snippets of encouragement or observations she thought he’d appreciate. Despite his initial attempts to deny it, Shota found himself looking forward to their moments together. She became the exception to his self-imposed rules, the person who slipped past his defenses without even trying.

For Y/n, Shota was a quiet strength, a steady presence in her unpredictable life. And for Shota, Y/n was a light he hadn’t realized he needed, someone who reminded him that even the most guarded hearts could find solace in another. Together, they built a connection that was quiet but unshakable, a bond that transcended words and grew stronger with each passing day.

---

The Christmas tree twinkled softly in the corner of Y/n’s apartment, casting a warm glow that danced across the room. Snow gently fell outside the window, muffling the sounds of the city and wrapping the world in a quiet blanket of white. The faint scent of pine mingled with the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies cooling on the counter.

Shota sat on the couch, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, wearing a pair of navy pajamas Y/n had bought but misjudged the size of. They were just a little snug on him, and she’d teased him about it earlier, laughing at the rare sight of him in anything remotely silly. She, meanwhile, wore her favorite penguin pajamas—bright and cheerful, with little birds in scarves and hats printed all over.

“I don’t know how you can take yourself seriously in those,” Shota said, his voice laced with dry humor, though his expression softened as he watched her.

She grinned, holding up a cookie she’d decorated earlier. “Says the man in too-tight pajamas. And besides, they’re festive.”

He smirked but didn’t argue. It was rare for him to relax like this, but somehow, in her presence, it felt natural. Easy.

The night had been filled with a string of small, intimate moments. They’d debated over which book was better—one of her favorites versus one of his. That had led to a spirited conversation about the merits of storytelling, Shota’s quiet baritone weaving effortlessly with her animated retorts. Then, a detour into movie discussions while a Christmas classic played in the background, neither of them paying much attention to the screen.

There had been laughter, soft and unguarded, over their attempts at decorating cookies—his looked like a chaotic mess compared to her meticulously crafted designs. “I don’t think frosting symmetry is a transferable skill for a hero,” he’d deadpanned, and she’d nearly choked on her laughter.

The snow fell softly outside Y/n's apartment window, muffling the world beyond and wrapping the night in a serene quiet. Inside, the glow of string lights reflected off the silver and red ornaments they’d just hung on the small but charming Christmas tree. The room smelled of fresh-baked cookies, mingling with the subtle scent of pine from the tree.

Y/n laughed, holding up a penguin-shaped ornament. "This one’s my favorite."

Shota tilted his head slightly. "Why penguins?"

"Because they’re clumsy on land but elegant in the water," she said, hanging it carefully on a branch. "They remind me that everyone has their own kind of grace, even if it’s not obvious."

He glanced at her, a faint warmth flickering in his usually unreadable eyes. "That’s... surprisingly insightful."

She smirked. "Surprisingly? Thanks a lot."

Shota’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers as he adjusted a crooked ornament. The casual touch made her heart skip, though she tried not to show it.

After a while, they settled on the couch, the soft glow of the tree illuminating the almost pitch black room. Y/n curled up with a steaming mug of cocoa, the silly penguin pajamas she wore making her look both cozy and endearing. Shota sat beside her, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the borrowed pajama pants making him look slightly out of place but entirely comfortable.

"This is nice," she said softly, glancing at him. "I’m glad you’re here."

Shota turned his head, his dark eyes meeting hers. There was something unspoken in his gaze, a depth of emotion he rarely let anyone see. "I’m glad, too," he admitted, his voice quieter than usual.

For a moment, the world outside seemed to vanish. Y/n felt the heat rise to her cheeks, and she quickly turned her attention back to her cocoa. "You’re surprisingly good at this Christmas thing," she teased, hoping to lighten the mood. "I thought you’d be more of a Grinch."

"I don’t usually do this," he replied, his voice steady. "Decorating, baking, any of it."

"Then why now?" she asked, her tone gentle.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the mug in his hands. "Because it’s you."

Her breath caught, the simplicity of his words hitting her harder than any grand declaration could. She set her mug down on the coffee table, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her pajama top. "You know... I don’t really know how to say this without sounding cheesy, but—"

Before she could finish, Shota reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered for a moment, the calloused warmth of his fingers brushing against her skin. "You don’t have to say anything," he murmured. "I already know."

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, and for once, she didn’t try to fill the silence with words. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her eyes searching his face for any sign that this moment wasn’t real. Shota’s expression remained calm, but there was a softness in his eyes that spoke volumes.

He leaned back slightly, giving her space, but the closeness between them remained. "You’re special to me, Y/n," he said quietly. "I can’t always show it the way I want to, but... you are."

Her lips parted, but the words she wanted to say caught in her throat. Instead, she reached out and took his hand, her fingers lacing with his. "You’re special to me too," she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

They sat like that for what felt like hours, the quiet crackle of the heater filling the room. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, everything felt warm and safe—as if the world had shrunk down to just the two of them.

"Do you think," Y/n began hesitantly, breaking the silence, "we’ll ever get tired of this?"

Shota’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand in a slow, deliberate motion. "No," he said simply. "Not with you."

Her chest tightened at his words, and she couldn’t help the small, tearful laugh that escaped her. "You’re really bad at being a Grinch, you know that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it."

She laughed again, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Your secret’s safe with me."

And as they sat together, the world outside blanketed in snow, Y/n realized that this—the warmth, the laughter, the quiet moments shared with him—was everything she’d ever wanted. And for Shota, who had spent so much of his life keeping people at arm’s length, it was a reminder that sometimes, letting someone in was worth the risk. Now he finally realized what Yamada was trying to tell him.

Now, as they sat on the couch, a comfortable silence fell between them. Y/n tucked her legs beneath her, sitting cross-legged as she absentmindedly toyed with the hem of her pajama pants. Her gaze flickered to Shota, her heart beating just a little faster as she studied him. The light from the tree played across his face, casting shadows that softened his usually sharp features. He looked so at peace—so different from the weary hero she’d come to know.

But something weighed on her. The warmth of the evening, the intimacy of their moments together—it felt like a fragile bubble, one she was terrified of bursting. She didn’t want to let this night end with regret for something she was too scared to do.

Shota turned his head, his dark eyes meeting hers. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low and steady, as if he could sense the conflict brewing within her.

Y/n hesitated, her hands tightening around her ankles. She bit her lip, unsure how to voice what she was feeling. Finally, she shifted slightly closer, her movements tentative, her breath catching as the distance between them lessened. Her gaze flickered to his lips for the briefest moment before darting back to his eyes.

She didn’t move further, frozen by her own nerves. But Shota did.

Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against her cheek. His touch was warm, calloused yet gentle, and it sent a shiver down her spine. He studied her for a moment, as if searching for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he leaned in, closing the gap between them.

His lips met hers softly, tentatively, as if testing the waters. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them bathed in the soft glow of the Christmas tree. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed, her hands instinctively reaching for him, one settling lightly on his chest while the other rested on his arm. His hand remained on her cheek, steady and grounding, his thumb brushing against her skin.

The kiss was unhurried but then deepened as the seconds stretched, each heartbeat louder than the snowfall outside. Shota's hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, anchoring her in the moment, while Y/n's fingers curled into the fabric of his borrowed pajamas. The warmth between them was in stark contrast to the cold world outside, and the glow of the Christmas tree made the whole scene feel surreal.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested against each other, both catching their breath. Shota’s dark eyes searched hers, a mix of vulnerability and something stronger lingering in his gaze.

“Y/n…” His voice was quieter than she had ever heard it, a near-whisper, but it carried weight.

Her lips curved into a small smile as she ran her fingers over the edge of his sleeve. “I didn’t want to end tonight with regrets,” she admitted softly, her cheeks flushed, both from the kiss and the courage it took to say it.

“You won’t,” he replied, his tone firm, as if making a promise.

The tension in the air softened, and Y/n let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Shota’s hand lingered on her neck a moment longer before falling away, but he didn’t retreat. Instead, he shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest. She nestled against him, her head resting just below his chin as the two sat quietly, letting the peace of the moment envelop them.

She was layed on top of him, his kegs stretched across the long couch fully. He squeezed her close to him, afraid to let go and lose her. Somebody that became so special in his dull life.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the city in quiet. Inside, Y/n and Shota stayed wrapped in their own little world, a sanctuary they had built together without even realizing it.

But she wanted more. The kiss had only stirred a longing within her that had been growing for months, ever since the first time he’d let his guard slip around her. The soft glow of the Christmas tree, the faint scent of pine, the gentle hum of the heater—it all felt too perfect, too fleeting. Y/n wasn’t ready for this moment to end.

She lifted her head from his chest, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. Shota's dark eyes, half-lidded from the quiet peace that had settled between them, opened fully to her. For a moment, she simply stared, memorizing every line and shadow of his features. The faint stubble along his jaw, the sharp angles softened by the warm light, the way his messy hair fell over his forehead—it was all uniquely him. She thought he’d never looked more handsome than he did right now, relaxed and unguarded in her presence.

Her heart raced as he caught her staring, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she smiled nervously, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

Shota’s brows furrowed slightly, his expression curious yet unreadable. “What?” he asked softly, his deep voice a quiet rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/n shook her head, her cheeks flushing. “Nothing… it’s just… you look different like this. Comfortable.”

He smirked faintly, though his eyes softened. “I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not.”

“It is,” she said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze dropped to his lips for a fleeting moment before darting back to his eyes. “It is,” she repeated, more firmly this time.

Shota’s hand moved again, brushing against her arm in a subtle yet deliberate gesture. He was quiet for a moment, studying her as if trying to read the unspoken words in her expression. He traced his fingers lightly up and down her arm, and he pulled the blanket over them when he felt her shiver. Though she was only shivering because of him, at his touch.

“You’re different too,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “Not many people make me feel… like this.”

Y/n’s breath caught. The tension between them thickened, the air heavy with unspoken feelings. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as she leaned closer, her nerves trembling with the weight of her actions. She wasn’t sure if she was being too bold, but her patience was wearing thin.

Still, she stopped just short of closing the distance between them, her lips hovering a breath away from his. Her eyes searched his face, silently asking him to meet her halfway.

And he did.

Shota’s hand came up to cradle her cheek once more, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. His movements were deliberate yet tender, as if reassuring her that this was exactly what he wanted, too. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was deeper, more certain than the first.

The world around them faded—the twinkling lights of the tree, the faint crackle of the heater, even the soft snow falling outside the window. All that mattered was this moment, this connection that felt as natural as breathing.

Y/n melted into him, her hands sliding up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. Shota’s free hand moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer as the kiss lingered, filled with everything they hadn’t said aloud but had always felt.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingled in the stillness. Y/n opened her eyes to find Shota watching her intently, his expression softer than she’d ever seen it.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

His lips curved into the faintest of smiles, and he brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “So have I.”

The honesty in his words made her heart swell, and she couldn’t help but smile back, her earlier nervousness dissolving into a quiet, shared joy.

The night stretched on, filled with soft laughter, whispered conversations, and quiet touches that spoke louder than words. For the first time in years, Shota allowed himself to feel something he’d always been afraid of. Love.

Y/n felt herself drifting off, her body sinking into Shota’s warmth as the exhaustion of the evening began to take over. Her head went limp against his chest, and her breathing grew steady and soft. Shota glanced down at her, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips.

For someone who kept his walls so high, Y/n had slipped past them with ease. He didn’t know how or when it had happened, but now that she was here, he couldn’t imagine letting her go.

Carefully, he shifted her weight and stood, cradling her in his arms as though she were fragile. She clung to him loosely, her fingers brushing against his shoulder in her half-asleep state, resembling a baby sloth clinging to a branch. Shota couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the rare sound barely audible.

He carried her to her bedroom, the soft glow of the Christmas lights following them as he navigated her cozy apartment. He knew some people might consider this an intrusion, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving her tonight—not when she’d become so much more than just a companion to him. Not when the thought of leaving her alone made something in his chest tighten.

Gently, he laid her down on the bed, his hands careful as he adjusted the blankets around her. But as he pulled back, Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

“Shota?” she murmured, her voice groggy but soft.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, his voice uncharacteristically tender. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just didn’t want you sleeping on the couch.”

Y/n blinked at him, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Don’t apologize,” she said, her hand reaching out to grab his wrist before he could pull away.

Before he could say anything else, she tugged him down, her movements quick and decisive despite her sleepiness. She kissed him again, her lips pressing firmly against his in a way that left no room for doubt about what she wanted.

This time, she didn’t pull away.

Instead, the kiss deepened, her fingers tangling in his hair as she shifted, pulling him down onto the bed with her. Shota’s surprise was fleeting, his body responding before his mind could catch up. He leaned into her, one arm sliding around her waist to steady her as she moved to lie on top of him again, mirroring their earlier position on the couch.

Her weight against him felt comforting, grounding, as if she were meant to be there. Their lips moved together with an urgency that hadn’t been there before, the kiss growing more heated, more intense. Shota’s hands moved instinctively, one settling on the curve of her back while the other cupped her cheek, anchoring her to him.

Y/n pressed closer, her body molding to his as her kisses became bolder. The soft sound of her breath against his lips sent shivers down his spine, and he couldn’t help but respond in kind, his usual stoicism melting away in the warmth of her embrace.

The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of them tangled together in the quiet intimacy of her bedroom. The twinkle of the Christmas lights spilled faintly through the doorway, casting their figures in a dim, golden and red glow.

For Shota, the moment felt surreal—like something he’d only allowed himself to imagine in his loneliest moments. But now, with Y/n in his arms, her lips against his, it felt real in a way that nothing else ever had.

And for Y/n, every touch, every kiss, was a culmination of all the moments she’d spent longing for him. The quiet tension that had always simmered between them had finally reached its breaking point, and now there was no holding back.

Neither of them spoke after they parted, breathing heavily, they didn’t need to. Every movement, every touch, said what words couldn’t—that they’d found something rare, something worth holding onto, even in a world as chaotic and unpredictable as theirs.

After her lips left his, she began trailing a slow, deliberate path down his jawline, her breath warm against his skin. Shota’s chest rose and fell beneath her as she shifted slightly, pressing herself closer as her kisses wandered lower. She paused at his neck, her lips brushing the sensitive skin there.

Shota froze.

It wasn’t a visible flinch—anyone else might have missed the tension that suddenly gripped his body—but Y/n could feel it. His hands, which had been resting on her waist and back, stilled, his fingers curling slightly as if unsure of what to do.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her brows knitting together in concern. “Shota?” she murmured softly, her voice laced with uncertainty.

His dark eyes met hers, and for a moment, he seemed caught between wanting to pull her closer and needing to put distance between them. His usual stoic expression faltered, vulnerability flickering across his features.

“I—” He hesitated, his voice low and rough. “I’ve never…”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Shota Aizawa, the reserved and unflappable pro hero, had never been in this position before. He wasn’t used to letting people get this close, wasn’t used to giving in to the kind of intimacy that left him exposed.

Y/n’s eyes softened as understanding dawned. She cupped his face gently, her thumb brushing over the faint stubble on his jaw. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice steady and soothing. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Her reassurance was met with silence, but she could see the conflict in his eyes. He wanted this—wanted her—but the unfamiliarity of it all left him uncertain.

“I’m not…” He sighed, his gaze shifting as he searched for the right words. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t,” she assured him, leaning down to rest her forehead against his. “We’re figuring this out together, Shota. There’s no right or wrong here.”

His arms tightened around her slightly, grounding himself in the feel of her against him. The tension in his body slowly began to ease, though there was still a cautious edge to his movements.

“Just tell me if I’m going too fast,” Y/n said, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile.

He nodded, his grip on her waist steadying as he let out a slow breath. “You’re not,” he said quietly, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly in what could almost be called a smile.

Encouraged, Y/n leaned in again, her lips brushing against his neck once more. This time, his reaction was different—his hands relaxed, and his head tilted slightly to give her better access. She continued her gentle kisses, her movements slow and careful, giving him time to adjust.

As her lips lingered on his skin, Shota closed his eyes, letting himself feel the moment fully. It was new, unfamiliar, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Y/n’s warmth, her tenderness, made it easier for him to let go of the doubts and fears that had always kept him at a distance.

He wasn’t used to being cared for like this, wasn’t used to being vulnerable. But with her, it felt… safe.

For the first time in a long time, Shota allowed himself to trust—to be fully present with someone who saw all of him and didn’t shy away.

Y/n could feel Shota start to melt beneath her, his initial hesitation giving way to quiet acceptance. She continued leaving gentle kisses along the column of his neck, pausing every so often to let her lips linger, savoring the way his pulse quickened under her touch. Each kiss seemed to pull him further from the walls he’d so carefully built around himself.

His hands moved from her waist, one sliding up her back to rest between her shoulder blades, the other threading cautiously into her hair. It wasn’t rushed or forceful—just a quiet acknowledgment of the connection they were forging in this moment.

"Y/n," he murmured, his voice a quiet rasp that sent a shiver down her spine. There was something raw and unguarded in the way he said her name, like she’d broken through to a part of him that no one else had ever reached.

She lifted her head, her lips brushing against his jawline one last time before meeting his gaze. The soft glow of the Christmas tree illuminated the vulnerability in his eyes, a rare glimpse of the man behind the stoic exterior.

“Is this okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t want to push too far, too fast—not with him.

Instead of answering with words, Shota pulled her closer, his lips finding hers again in a kiss that was deeper, more assured than before. It wasn’t hurried or frantic—it was steady and deliberate, a reflection of the quiet strength that defined him. Y/n responded in kind, her hands sliding from his shoulders to frame his face, her thumbs brushing against the rough stubble of his jaw.

The world outside the apartment seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them cocooned in the warmth of each other’s presence. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree cast shifting patterns on the walls, the only witnesses to the intimacy they were sharing.

When they finally broke apart, both of them slightly breathless, Shota rested his forehead against hers, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

“You’re different,” he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent.

Y/n tilted her head, a small smile playing at her lips. “Different how?”

Shota’s fingers trailed lightly through her hair, his touch both tender and grounding. “You make me feel… less like a hero. And more like a man.”

Her smile softened, her heart swelling at the quiet confession. “You are a man, Shota. A good one. And you don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders when you’re with me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if letting her words sink in, before pulling her into a tight embrace. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Do you want to continue.. or no. I'm not saying we have to I just, if you want to-'" he groaned, unable to find the words and afraid of messing anything up. She just laughed and played with his hair.

"Shota, do you want to go any further? You don't have to be afraid to ask. I just don't want you to feel pressured" she spoke quietly, looking at him with the purest intentions. She thought fir a moment. He knew this moment would come eventually, and with someone as special as her. He wanted to, he's wanted her so badly.

"Yes" He said, unsure of how to proceed. She sat up from on top of him and giggled at his nervousness that he tried to hide.

As Y/N sat up slightly, the soft glow of the Christmas lights cast a warm ambiance around them, illuminating the desire in her eyes. She took a moment to meet his gaze, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling between them. With a gentle motion, she lifted her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the side, revealing her bare skin beneath.

He couldn’t help but admire her bravery, his heart racing as he reached out, his fingertips grazing her waist, feeling the warmth radiating from her. The connection between them intensified, their breathing deepening as he navigated this new territory together with her. Y/n leaned in closer, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, while he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her.

The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as they explored the depths of their emotions, savoring this newfound intimacy amidst the twinkling lights.

As Y/N settled atop him, the closeness ignited a rush of feelings that they had both been holding back. She leaned forward, capturing his lips in a deeper kiss, her heart racing with each passing second. He responded eagerly, his hands finding their way to her back, gently tracing the curve of her spine as she felt the weight of his gaze on her.

The world around them seemed to fade away, the only sounds being the soft rustle of fabric and their synchronized breaths. With each kiss, they explored not just each other’s lips, but the connection that had blossomed between them over time. Y/N’s hands wandered to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips—a rhythm that matched her own growing excitement.

Feeling bold, she shifted her weight, moving her hips against him, seeking that electric connection. He gasped softly, placing his hands on her hips, guiding her movements as they found a rhythm that felt both exhilarating and new. The combination of cool air and their rising heat made the moment feel surreal.

She caught his eye, her expression a sweet mix of eagerness and a bit of trepidation. “How about this far for tonight, sound okay?” she whispered, searching for affirmation. He hummed.

Encouraged, she leaned back in for another kiss, one that spoke of unspoken promises and the thrilling unknowns that lay ahead. As they continued exploring, kisses turning softer and more passionate, they both knew they were crossing into a beautifully shared moment that would deepen their bond in ways they had yet to fully grasp.

After the quiet intimacy of the moment, Shota and Y/n lay side by side, the weight of everything between them settling into a comfortable silence. The Christmas tree lights flickered softly in the corner, casting a gentle glow over them both, but it was the warmth of their closeness that truly filled the room.

Shota, still processing the emotions rushing through him, turned to face her. His heart was steady, but there was something tender in the way he looked at Y/n—something that spoke volumes of the vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. He reached over, pulling her close, his arm wrapping gently around her. She nestled against him, her head resting on his chest, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. It was as if the very act of being in each other's presence was enough to say everything.

Y/n, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, closed her eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of him—the faint trace of cologne, the comforting warmth of his skin. She felt safe, more than she ever had before. In his arms, everything felt right, as if the pieces of her world had finally fallen into place.

She could feel the weight of the day—the events, the shared laughter, the quiet connection that had deepened into something neither of them had fully expected. But now, in this moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the connection between them. She could sense the steadiness in Shota, his emotions not easily given away but there in the subtle tension of his muscles, the quiet way he held her close.

Shota, for his part, was just as quiet, content in the calm that had settled over them both. He knew this moment would stay with him forever. He had never allowed himself to get this close to someone—had never let someone in this far—but with Y/n, it felt natural. She wasn’t like anyone else. She didn’t ask for anything more than his presence, and in return, she gave him a peace he hadn’t known he was missing.

He had always been cautious, protective of his heart, of the life he led as a pro hero. But here, with Y/n, he felt like he could finally exhale. He could finally be himself, not the hero or the stoic man everyone saw, but simply Shota. And that meant more to him than he could express.

As they lay there, the room growing quiet as the night deepened, both of them felt the pull of sleep. The day’s emotions had worn them out, but neither of them wanted to break this moment. So they stayed where they were, comfortable and close, the silence between them a peaceful one.

Y/n shifted slightly, her hand resting gently on his chest, the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat lulling her into a sense of calm. She felt the tension in her own body ease, her thoughts drifting. This was a moment she would carry with her, and she knew that in the days, months, and years to come, it would be a memory etched in her mind.

Shota, too, felt the pull of sleep, his eyelids growing heavier. He knew it would come to this eventually—the closeness, the bond that was formed between them. He was glad it was with someone like Y/n. Someone who was patient, understanding, and who made him feel something he had been afraid to feel for a long time: at peace.

As they both drifted off to sleep, the world outside faded away. The snow continued to fall softly, blanketing the world in quiet, and in the warmth of each other’s arms, Shota and Y/n knew they were exactly where they were meant to be.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Loyalties chapter 2🔞

Loyalties Masterlist

Simon was almost sure that hell had to be a one month long leave. His skin itches from not being able to rip and maim any targets. His nerves were jumping because he so desperately needed the structure that was base. He could count on training recruits, doing simulations, anything to exercise the testerone from his system. Before he took his leave he had requested another shot of suppressants and was promptly denied by the base doctor. Now that had irritated him to high hell. Didn't they know that his alpha, unless it was chemically sedated, would want to rip and run free, gnash and gnaw until it felt satisfied? It was suggested that he find relief in a barracks bunny, but the snarl that left his mouth told the doctor to shut up. In the end while it wasn't suppressants he was given, he was instead supplied with relaxants that while wouldn't chemically sedate him, it would keep his instincts calm. Simon could at least appreciate that he wouldn't cause issues or lose his carefully crafted control when he was released into the general public. After all, he was certain that Johnny wouldn't want to be bedridden because Simon tore his ass a literal new hole. He and the Scott , while often intimate, never had sex with Simon off of his suppressants. He didn't want to hurt him and couldn't trust himself to not accidentally knot the poor lad.

“Aye, ye okay Simon?”

Simon was brought out of his thoughts and into the present by Johnny. He only offered a grunt for a response and brought his pint to his mouth for another sip of his beer. The pub that they ended up in was the same one they were regulars at when they were in the city. It was always dimly lit, moderately loud, and always a bit more crowded than he liked and the cocktail of scents made his head hurt. But Klye and Johnny fancied the place and Price actually liked the food here, so he didn't complain about being dragged out by his pack mates.

“If you say so Lt.” Kyle shook his head, “Soap and I were thinking we could do a rage room tomorrow night, we heard some of the recruits talking about it.”

Johnny nodded his head, “yea, an hour to just fuck around an’ smash thing!”

Simon thought it was stupid, why pay for the fake experience when they were paid to actually fuck things up during missions? He didn't understand the novelty of it, because Price was agreeing, saying something about “it seems like a good idea.”

His nose twitches as he scents the air, a habit really of unconsciously searching for danger. But the scent of something sweet cuts through the other smells of salt, beer, musk from other alphas. It was pleasing, made his teeth ache in a way it hadn't ached since he met Johnny. His eyes scan the pub looking for even a hint at what it could be. Whatever it was, had caught the eye of several other alphas and a few betas in the pub, both male and female. The hostess, a slip of a thing, had walked by and following after her were three women, all of them omegas. They were talking to each other, and he recognized from how they carried themselves and the accent and the chosen words of referring to the place as a hole in the wall bar, that they were American. All of them had pretty brown skin and two of them were holding hands, while the third followed behind them. If the walkway was wider, he had no doubt that they all would be side by side holding hands and laughing.

The hostess had shown them to the booth that was right next to theirs and Simon watched as Kyle and Johnny caught a whiff of the women. Johnny, was sitting with his back towards the group of omegas, it was adorable how he tried his best to not turn around and gawk at them. His eyes had caught sight of them, but he so desperately wanted to scent the third woman who had walked past their table. John and Simon were seated facing the booth that the women were at, and for the first time in history, he swore he saw his captain’s nostrils actually flare. He wasn't normally the type to scent places openly, he was the type to do so discreetly by just simply breathing, but this was clearly a deep breath.

“Symphony, are you sure Malik and Aaron are gonna be able to find this place?” The woman who had burnt orange hair asked. She was one of the ones that walked in holding the woman with black hair that was cut into a bob by the hand.

“Gloria girl, if they can't follow Google maps, then they should have gotten off work earlier.”

A waitress had come up to the booth, smiled and asked the women what she could start them with. The ones named Symphony and Gloria both looked at the third woman who had her eyes trained on her phone. Simon was watching her closely even as his pack mates continued to chat about the rage room. But it was clear that all four of them were listening, zeroing in on the table of omegas.

“Bambi, the waitress asked you a question.” Symphony had prodded who was clearly the lead in their group.

Bambi. What a sweet and shy name. Simon kept his eyes on her and took her in. Her pretty brown hair faded to a honey blonde, and when she looked up, Simon was greeted with the lightest brown eyes he had ever seen. Her lips were shiny, gloss probably, eyes lined in deep black eyeliner that swooped up and lids painted in a light shiny pink. American omega girls really did things differently, because coming to a regular pub so dressed up seemed overkill.

“We're starting off with tequila shots, two for us each. And we insist that you bring us something good that you recommend.” Bambi's voice was smooth and sweet but also commanded the listener to pay rapt attention.

The waitress, a beta, shivered and wrote down the order. “We have some of the best fish and chips around if you ladies want to try that!”

Bambi looked at her two companions and they nodded along. “Yeah, whatever works, and after our shots the fruitiest drinks on the menu.”

“Are you ladies celebrating something fun tonight?” The waitress asked, she was planning to upsell them.

They all laughed and Bambi nodded her head, “It's my birthday, I just turned twenty-six and me and my pack mates are gonna do a bar crawl. This is our first stop.”

Johnny grinned when he heard that. It was an in to speak to the nice smelling omega in the booth next to them. Who would turn down free shots ordered by handsome men? The waitress wished Bambi a happy birthday and when she went to put the order in Johnny stopped her.

“Aye lassie, the birthday girl, ya send her and her mates another round of shots from us yea?”

The waitress raised an eyebrow and smirked. She was well aware that the table with the foreigners was about to have drinks sent to them left and right from alphas trying for their attention. And she was about to get tips because of it. “Sure thing hun.” And she went to put the orders in.

Johnny looked at Simon, who still hadn't stopped staring at the booth behind them. So badly he wished he sat next to him instead of across because all he could do was smell the sweet scent coming from those women. Underneath it though, he could scent (and Johnny was sure everyone could scent this), the musk of an alpha. Two of those women were off limits and he prayed it wasn't the one that was wearing what had to be the world's shortest pink dress and a cute little sash that says birthday girl.

“Here are your shots,” the waitress had come back with the nine shots of tequila, “your other drinks are being made now.”

“We only ordered six in total.” Symphony had an edge to her voice.

“Oh the gentlemen behind you sent the extra, for the birthday girl.” She explained.

Johnny pulled a few notes out to slip to the waitress as she walked by. All four of them gave the waitress a knowing look, no other drinks were to be sent to that table unless it was them sending it. The woman of the hour laughed and finally looked directly at Simon and her gorgeous brown eyes slid over to Price.

“Symphony, switch places with me.” Bambi stood up and the woman with the burnt orange hair got up and traded places with her. The two of them traded spots, and Simon and John watched as the girls cheered.

“To twenty-six years and counting! Bless me and bless the shots!” Bambi then downed the shots, three of them back to back. When she was done she turned in her seat and leaned between Johnny and Kyle. She folded her arms across the back of the booth.

Kyle, who had been busy talking, stopped abruptly and turned slightly. “Good evenin’ lass”

“Which one of you darling men sent me and my sisters the extra shots?” She smiled and her eyes were half lidded. With her this close up they could now discern that the musk that accompanied a claimed omega was absent on her.

“From us all yea.” Johnny smiled, “Names Johnny, that's Kyle, John and Simon.” He was all bright and friendly. Simon knew that his boy was going to try his damndest to fuck her this evening (if they were all lucky they would all get a turn, even if that would be a bad idea). He could scent the underlying hint of arousal from him.

“Aw thank you, I'm Bambi.”

“Like the deer?” Johnny teased.

“Maybe,” she batted her eyelashes at him, “but I've been told it's a variant of Bambina. But either way it's a name that sounds good being said when a person cums.”

The sweet voice didn't match the dirty words at all. Johnny's smile widened and Kyle turned to face the girl completely. John cleared his throat, unable to believe she had said that out loud (he was a traditional alpha, and often thought that while omegas garnered respect, they were supposed to be sweet and shy. Bambi was clearly not that.)

Simon however wished he hadn't put his surgical mask back on because he wanted a stronger hit of the arousal that wafted from Johnny, Kyle and Bambi.

“Aren't ye a tease.” Johnny laughed, “how long ye be in England for?”

“Hmm, we're immigrants, following my brother here for work.” She answered carefully.

She was hinting that she was not claimed and the pack she was in was headed by family. She looked at John and smiled. “Love the facial hair set up, it's a very unique and handsome look.”

“Thank you sweetie. I hope you're going to be safe this evening.” John smiled as he brought his mug to his lips.

“I'll be safe.” She watched his neck closely as his adam's apple bobbed while he drank his beer. Smart girl, she already figured out who the alpha of this pack was despite them all having that as a second gender. She licked her lips as she kept eye contact with John and then slowly those brown eyes landed on Simon.

It's rare that Simon feels unrestrained lust at the drop of a pin, but when she looked at him his alpha wanted to desperately growl and find a way to claim her. There was electricity between the five of them and Simon for a second was glad he had the relaxants to help him reel in his instincts (if he had suppressants he wouldn't be able to experience this and all of the full context of this encounter. He's glad he didn't get a suppressant shot). He kept her gaze and nodded his head only once in acknowledgement. She smiled sweetly, pleased at him.

“Bambi, Malik said that he is lost!” The tension was effectively cut as Symphony got her sister’s attention. “The dummy said he can't find the damn bar!”

Bambi rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder, “Did you drop a location pin?”

“I did, but you know he's with Aaron and that damn Aaron is probably leading the way.” Symphony sighed. “He wants one of us to wait outside for them.”

Bambi sighed and slid from her booth. “I'll go outside, you two sit tight and pretty.” She then looked back at John with a sly smile on her face.

John already had one of his infinite cigars out and standing to follow after her. Johnny had a shit eating grin on his face and so did Kyle. Simon was mulling over quietly if he was going to even try to fuck the omega with his pack mates. And boy was that a fucking thought, he declined a barrack bunny, but a nice smelling omega that he just barely met, was where he was willing to cross the line?

There was the sound of a throat clearing and Gloria was looking at the three of them. She raised an eyebrow and smirked, “I hope you fellas don't think Bambi is gonna give it up right away.”

Johnny frowned, deciding to play dumb, “Nae ‘ure what ye are talkin’ bout.”

“Bambi likes to flirt and tease, and you buying us those shots puts you all on her radar.” She chuckled, “if she likes whatever your alpha says to her, then I'm sure you'll all have her number and be in a group chat before the night is over.”

“Does she act like this often?" Kyle asked.

“Hmm, no.” She looked at Symphony, “Sym, when was the last time Bambi even showed intrigue in another alpha?”

“Two years ago I think, and that ended because the alpha didn't like the idea of her calling the shots and at the same time demanded and tried to force her submission.” Symphony shook her head, her eyes still trained on her phone, “I'll be straight up honest, if you just want to get your knots wet be upfront with her. Can't promise she'll go for that though.”

Outside Bambi took in a breath of the early night air. Inside the bar it was suffocating with so many scents, but outside was where she could finally get a clear smell of one of the alphas that caught her attention. John seemed older than what she normally went for. His beard was the first thing she noticed, she was a sucker for facial hair. The smoky scent of his cigar paired with the natural woodsy fresh air that came from him, made her stomach flutter. She leaned against the side of the building and watched as he lit his cigar and took a slow drag from it. He was tall, not as bulky as the one in the black hoodie and black surgical mask. But his muscles were defined. Actually all of them were quite larger than average, not in a body builder way but in a kept physically fit way.

“Who exactly got lost?” He asked her as he exhaled the smoke in rings.

‘What a show off.’ Bambi smiled to herself.

“My older brothers are lost.” She giggled, “they wouldn't be able to find their way out of a paper bag.”

He chuckled and nodded his head, “how are you liking it here so far?”

“I like it alot actually. My folks used to vacation here during the summer and anytime my father needed to check on his business here. You ever heard of Temple Ballistics and Weaponry?”

John looked at her with a raised brow and nodded his head, “I have sweet heart.”

“Yeah, my brother is the CEO and we moved here for his work.” She shrugged her shoulders and shuffled closer to him. She very obviously took a deep breath and stared up at him.

John took a deep breath as well, enjoying the sweet scent of her. She obviously was going to be trouble and knew it. Personally in the past he went for the more demure and shy omegas but something about her scent and flirty personality drew him in. He supposed it was multiple layers of cultural differences that he was already starting to like. He knew American omegas in general were more open and forward, African American omegas from what he heard tended to take charge and demand that their submission be earned. She was not going to just roll over and let him and his pack claim her, not without them asserting dominance.

“What do you do for work?” Bambi asked, “I actually work as a public relations specialist.”

“You do PR?”

“Yes, my other brother and a few of his friends need my services. But I mostly do freelance.”

“I'm in the military. Can't say much more than that.” John smiled down at her.

“Hmm,” she leaned up off the wall and faced him completely. She was sizing him up, her gaze drifting down to his chest and then right before she got to his waist, those brown eyes were back on his. “You don't sit behind a desk do you?”

“Not often, no.” John thought she was a smart girl. And observant to boot. He finally took in her full body, she was thick like most omegas, her thighs looked soft and jiggly. She had a slight stomach pooch that was just barely noticeable in the short pale pink dress she wore. Her legs were bare and seemed to go on forever due to her matching pink platform pumps. Nothing about her was traditional, but John knew he was willing to overlook that. He was willing to do that because she was a deviation from the norm that he has experienced. That and the fact that she was sending his alpha howling, it made his blood run hot and he needed to know why. Why was she different?

“And I suspect the other three are what both your pack mates and subordinates?”

Another drag of his cigar and slow exhale, “How do you figure that?”

“You military men are all the same. You form packs based on rank and relationships built through training and battle.” She nodded her head like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Do you know anyone in the military?” He asked.

“No, but my brother does and I've heard stories from him, especially when he talks about the contracts he's allowed to complain about.” She laughed.

“You're a smart girl.” John was surprised when she preened from his compliment, the soft trill of a purr made him lean in closer to her. He was gently invading her space, backing her up to the wall again. Trying to subtly test the waters. His alpha was scratching at the back of his mind, quietly pleased by her response to him.

“I know I am John.” She placed a dainty manicured hand against his chest. Gripping his shirt and pulling him forward and closer. She wanted him to invade her space, blocking her from the view of people passing by them.

“You are certainly going to be trouble aren't you?” He whispered as he leaned in closer to her. She tilted her head up, but was careful not to lean over and expose her scent gland too much. Bambi, he realizes, will not be offering that to him unless he and his boys worked for it.

“Maybe I can be trouble for you and your pack.” Bambi was doing her best to suppress the shiver from John being so close. There were not very many alphas that she was attracted to, but when passed by his table she knew she had to at least try. She blamed it on the fact that her mother and father's and her uncle's dynamics set the bar high. And seeing how her brothers treated Gloria and Symphony over the past years made her want the same thing. But most alphas, be they men or women, always fell short of her expectations. John and his group looked like they may be able to successfully earn her submission and understand that she would not just be rolling the fuck over. They seemed strong, disciplined and they all probably worked well together.

John placed his free hand on her cheek and then slowly slid it down to just straight up hold her neck. He didn't apply pressure, just held her, just to feel her pulse quicken. His alpha was screaming at him to just mark her, pleased that she was even letting him do this. It's never acted up like this before. He glanced down at her lips and then back at her eyes. “What exactly is your scent Bambi?”

“I've been told I smell like cocoa butter with a hint of vanilla.” She whispered as she stared up at him with doe-like eyes.

Fuck he wanted to kiss her and then press his nose against her neck.

“BamBam we found you!”

Bambi snapped her head to the right and pushed John away from her gently. Coming down the sidewalk, finally were her three brothers instead of two. She scowled at the fact that they ruined her moment with John. Actually, why were all three of her brothers here? She was only expecting two. John took a respectful couple of steps away from her and breathed in deep. The cool air around them both smelt slightly of arousal and he was sure the three men approaching them could smell it too.

“BamBam, just for the record, we would have been here sooner if it wasn't for Aaron.” The young man who had shoulder length dreads smiled and scratched the back of his head.

“Way to throw me under the bus Malik.” The other young man who was tall but slender punched Malik in the arm. “If we didn't take a detour to grab Xavier even though he said he didn't want to come, we would have been here earlier.”

The last one, who was wearing a black balaclava (there was a heart and a flower stitched on the right cheek of the fabric), was staring directly at John. He didn't look too happy about what they all stumbled on. Out of the three alphas, he was the only one that was somewhat bulked up. They were all quite tall but the two that were arguing were lithe in their build.

“For fucks sake.” Bambi sighed and their petty arguing stopped, “get your asses inside, I'll be there in a moment and we can get the night going.”

Malik and Aaron, John assumed both looked at Bambi and muttered fine. They gave John a once over but did not say anything and just went inside. The only one not moving was the one in the balaclava. He slowly looked towards Bambi, a low rumble of a growl could be heard. It made his back straighten and John put out his cigar, but before he could say anything to diffuse the situation Bambi spoke up.

“Xavier, glad to have you but I really don't need an opinion.” Bambi was no longer the sweet and flirty woman from even five minutes ago. She was commanding the alphas in her pack. Xavier huffed, shoved his hands into his pant pockets and meandered inside.

John found it to be a strange dynamic. He wasn't sure how his boys would handle a bossy little omega. He could imagine Soap would lean into it seeing as how he came from a family of women. Maybe his Kyle would tolerate it. But Simon and him would want her to know who was in charge at all times. Then again, siblings in a pack wouldn't need to earn or give submission and dynamics looked different in packs where the parents weren't around.

“Sorry about them, they don't know how to mind their manners or business.” She turned her sweet smile back at him. “Can I have your number John?” Once again she batted her eyelashes up at him and he found himself helpless to say anything other than yes.

So they exchanged numbers, he watched as she put a cute pink heart next to his name. “If this is the type of pack that I think it is, share my number with the rest of them.”

“Will do Miss Bambi.”

She leaned up and kissed his cheek before she went back into the pub. John immediately sent the contact information to the group chat and right after made a group chat with the five of them.

[lovelaetter]

yay, I'm glad you liked it >< also, the way I had 4 paragraphs on this and accidentally clicked away, oops.... this is kinda rewritten from memory so not very good—but ask and you shall receive ! and I don't have an active blog atm, but I will be looking into it. maybe. the internet is scary D: also, lots of context once again, my bad "( – ⌓ – )

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ age gap & intox

⠀⸝⸝⸝⠀⠀( older!reader × nonidol!rosé ) you two met by bumping into each other (literally) at a coffee shop. so cliché: her cheeks reddening when she looks up at you, her freshly made iced americano poured all over your white shirt, and her doed-up eyes portraying the embarrassment. a bunch of quick apologies like "I'm so sorry, ma'am," and "I wasn't looking, oh my God, I'm so sorry–"

her best idea at the moment is to give you her number to "make it up to you later" and she saves herself as 'rosie ♡ (the clumsy one)', the heart not going unnoticed by you. you make your way out after reassuring it was okay, that you were only here to buy some pastries anyway, nowhere important to be. her eyes trail up your figure until you disappear around the corner, the door letting out a 'ding' as you exit.

⠀⸝⸝⸝⠀⠀a few weeks later and you get a text from 'rosie ♡' (you removed 'the clumsy one' part because it was a bit too dumb to label her with) which says "hello, I was wondering if I could repay you with some brunch??". a quick "sure" and you find yourself with a talkative rosé, she's sitting across from you and so social. it's obvious she has some sort of crush on you, you assumed it was the idea of an older woman—she seems like the type to be too 'babygirl' to have someone her age.

day drinking was never your strength, so you only sip your water as she downs a few sips of her whiskey. the smell is strong, not that you mind, and it showcases whenever she leans forward to refill your water—so well-mannered, with her speech as well—or hand you her fork because "this is so good, you need to try it!"

⠀⸝⸝⸝⠀⠀eventually taking her back to her own place. she's too tipsy to stand straight, let alone drive. only 1 pm and she's already wasted. you're thankful it's your day off today, wouldn't be able to take care of a needy rosé with some idiotic men who can't figure out how to sort paper blowing up your phone.

she's... so dumb. her tongue is loose, complimenting you left and right and growing bolder with her words. all you can do is let out amused responses because she's very clearly drunk, you shouldn't take advantage of that. but oh God, it's hard to keep yourself in check when she's whining and full on begging for just something, anything.

it's out of pity, at least that's what you tell yourself, when you shush her with two of your fingers in her mouth. she looks like she's gonna cum from just that because the thought of being babied is making her so hazy she just can't. and so, she does cum. untouched. but it's too small of an orgasm to satisfy either of you, so those same fingers keep pounded her skull in contrast to you gently taking off her clothes.

she's wearing some pink lace and you can't help but think—imagine—that she wore these just for you, that she wanted this to be the end goal. what a shameless girl. but you don't admire the cloth, it's down to her ankles in milliseconds, your index and middle finger are the only thing covering her, somewhat. the circles on her clit slow but still enough to have her thrashing.

when you let her speak again, taking your soaked fingers out her mouth and stuffing them one by one in her cunt until there's three, her manners show again. "thank you" and "right there, please," leave her mouth so constantly you doubt she can think of any other words right now.

when she cums again, it's so hard and pretty. her eyes rolling back and reaching forward towards you instead of arching her back. you can still see that she's drunk, but you don't feel bad, can't feel bad. not when she's mindlessly half-admitting to having wanted this: "so much better than I imagined." now you just have to wait for her to sober up for round 2, she's too comfy over your lap to reciprocate.

signed by ☃️

this !! i’m seeing stars, this is what rosé is about for me, this awful mess of a girl who crumbles under the attention of an older woman :( like you said, her drunk self, throwing her head back with a stupid smile and then batting her eyelashes at you, something about “you’re really pretty” and laughing that makes you just dismiss her with a “sure thing, rosie” and grip her waist harder and pull her harder to your side.

somehow remembering her manners while you have three fingers stretching her out is so on brand for her (and jennie), head empty, cunt achy, turns every girl to the most well behaved form :(

and i compared her to a little fawn on my other ask about her and i can’t help but do it again here because it’s exactly how i think she would act after, getting so sleepy and looking so fragile in your arms post-orgasm, body mushy, barely holding herself on her own legs and you take her to bed to proper rest and she smile and extend her hand, inviting you to lay with her and what are supposed to do? say no? and when you sit down she instantly curls up by your side… sigh, that one girl that’s too much of a cute wild animal for you.

you mentioning cute brunch unofficial dates and stuffing her mouth with your fingers here, me talking about having her on your lap and feeding her little bites on the sugar baby ask… oh, rosie girl, i know what you are. totally not thinking about million scenarios including oral fixation right now and the idea of her vibrating at the vague feeling of your fingers close to her lips, cleaning her smudged lipstick, shushing her, offering her something, all while her underwear grows damp and she has to resist the urge to open her mouth to bite or lick. or just being latched at any part of your body because that’s what it is about, your neck, your pussy, your strap, she just wants to feel some of you in her mouth.

and never apologize for writing lots of background, i do it too and i love it!!

[vesseloflukola]

Hello fellow Lukola shippers! I am here to tell you how I arrived on this ship, and offer you my, hopefully calm thoughts on how I continue to stay on this ship, continually unbothered.

I have loved Bridgerton from the first time I watched it back in 2020. I loved Colin, and especially Pen, from the very beginning. I read all of the books after watching that season and particularly fell in love with 2 of the books. I don’t have the energy at this time to talk about the second book I loved, so let’s concentrate on the first one, shall we? It was Colin and Pen’s story, of course. So, of course, I was delighted when I found out that their season would be moved up to season 3.

Now, I admit, as much as I loved the characters, and thought the actors were well cast, I was not truly excited until right before season 3 was released. Nicola and Luke’s names did not regularly roll off of my tongue as they do now. However, I was excited for the release of the first half of season 3 and started seeing TikTok video’s of them.

What was this? A world tour? With amazing interviews? How on earth did I not know that they had to REPRESS their chemistry!?! What? Wait! These two amazing people who can’t keep their hands to themselves and can’t keep their eyes from wandering are not somehow having a torrid love affair?

Well, I was a goner from that point on. My days were no longer my own. I absolutely HAD to find and watch every single video I had missed from every stop on the world tour so far. I had to know their back story. I had to find every picture I could. You would have thought it was my job to know everything I could about them. I learned a lot. Then I had to wait with everybody else for new interviews and new pictures to come out. It was hard being caught up, but then I could find out what the fans were talking about.

I truly believe that Nic and Luke love each other. They showed that love on the WT. They were both completely unhinged at times, and I loved every second of it. I also believe (based on his detailed memory from their first meeting) that Luke was drawn to Nic from the moment they first met and I think her feelings for him grew over time as they got to know each other better.

I know Luke had something with Antonia. I have personally been calling it a situationship. Obviously I don’t know any of these individuals, but from what we have been shown (by Luke in this case), it was completely casual. We have seen how he has been with past girlfriends and we have seen how he has been with Nic. In all cases he has been protective, warm, and happy around them. I have not seen a single picture (or video)of he and Antonia where he is any of those things. In fact, the few glimpses we have gotten of them together (especially the pap walk), he looked pretty miserable, or in some cases ambivalent at best. I am pretty positive he has not seen her since the Italy trip for his friend Rory’s birthday. I also think she is a true pest who wants everyone to believe what she had with Luke was a lot more than what it was and that it is still magically going on.

I think Jake is a good friend of Nics who accidentally got papped with Nic while Nic was being her regular friendly self. I think he is exactly who he (and his other friends) tried to portray himself to be before the Jakola’s tried to convince us otherwise. I think he is a good friend to Nic and in trying to protect her (from a certain DM) he ended up giving them exactly what they wanted to try to “prove” a relationship launch. I think he might have at some point tried to use that false narrative to try to get some notice, but I think it might have backfired and maybe (hopefully) he learned his lesson and is back in Nic’s good graces (which he appears to be after the friendly dinner pics we got recently). I’m just saying I don’t think Jake is a bad guy. I just don’t think he is dating Nic.

When all is said and done, I think Nic and Luke have been together since Chaos week in August. I think they are happy. I would love an announcement at some point, but I honestly don’t see us getting one any time soon. I will settle for the crumbs they are so lovingly willing to share. For now, I am only listening to what they have to tell us and not the noise of what anyone else chooses to release to try to disturb the fandom.

Sitting in my permanent seat on the ship.

[velvetvexations]

I have nothing against op but "sucks that trans women are having to support trans men :/" is just wild. When 90% of posts about transmisogyny end with "and that's why trans men suck", who is really putting the conversation about transmisogyny on hold for trans men? Probably the people who keep making transmisogyny about trans men??

Queer discourse always sucks, it sucks that members of our own community always have to defend each other against each other, but it's also kind of our responsibility to defend each other and anyone who's not a complete asshole will get that. So to be like "I'm sorry that you with your higher concerns have to debase yourselves for little ol us" is weird!!

I get your point and agree with it, but I do think you're reading a bit much into the post. I understand that they were framing it as it being a burden trans women are shouldering, taking away time and energy that could be spent on their own specific issues. You read that correctly. Nonetheless, I feel there's a broader context to take into account.

Transmascs are bombarded with messaging that makes quite a lot of them need transfems to have to tell them that no, they're not misogynistic for existing, and those transfems then have to use their relative authority in the discussion as the people claimed to be the Most Victim to shoot that shit down. I don't consider that a burden on me, but rather an exhausting and frustrating situation to be in for transmascs having to rely on the transfems vocally in their favor to tell people to knock it off because their own voices are diminished and it puts them in a very demeaning position.

So I think all that plays a part in the OP's feelings which I find understandable and coming from a place of more than just "it sucks trans women are having to show solidarity." It sucks having to go to your sister and ask her to get your bullies to leave you alone. It makes you feel guilty for relying on her and it makes you feel less powerful for not being able to do it yourself.

I think in retrospect I really regret not having added anything to it because you are right that solidarity should be the default expectation and I don't want transmascs to feel like their problems are a burden. I love my brothers and it's my sincere pleasure to advocate for them.

Truthfully, if not for this discourse I would be just about useless to the world. I can't advocate for my own issues, not only lacking the circumstances to even attempt doing anything IRL if I wanted to but also being horrifically triggered engaging with the outside world unless I ignore it as much as possible. When I used Reddit as my primary social media outlet I literally had lowkey PTSD from how many times I was accidentally exposed to news stories and had to be very careful to avoid them.

But so many people tell me I have a positive impact on them and their life. As much as I hate these circumstances, I'm happy to have found something I can do for others, and there's nothing wrong with needing your sister's help. <3

[careful-fear]

Just read your recent prompt about Quincey and Shrike! And I loved it! I wanted to know if there was a power imbalance in the relationship between the two of them, considering Shrike is a god. Do they really like Quincey? Or is there something more sinister behind it all?

had to drop everything to answer this because wow am i pathetic about them.

okay so power? it's complicated. shrike is a god, but any influence they had is centuries old. in fact, when they first met shrike had nothing but a crumbling temple and a few skeletons for company. and what shrike is capable of is mostly unknown. and honestly that is also little. they're weak, they're drained, they're falling apart. and for reasons that are spoilers, quincey does give them power. but still a small amount. quincey himself has been raised to think incredibly highly of witches, so he is also a bit arrogant when it comes to gods.

their relationship stems from loneliness and greed, and the fact that they are there. and even if it's under forced circumstances they're staying.

there is also a lot of manipulation, on both their ends. they both have things they want out of the relationship that is not considered healthy but boils down to complete reliance and possession of each other.

quincey can leave, quincey provides food for shrike, and shrike can not leave, but they can provide safety and even home. which, to me, makes their power dynamics incredibly complicated, and not really a case of one person continually having influence over the other.

but they do genuinely love each other. i speak a lot about quincey, and it might be easier to extrapolate his feelings, so---shrike adores quincey. shrike believes quincey is fascinating and beautiful and a reason. quincey stays, quincey expresses free will, quincey fights back, quincey serves them, quincey is perfect and feels like fate. and shrike would do anything for him, as long he remains shrike's.

their love isn't healthy, but it is mutual. they want to own each other and be owned. they want to protect each other to the point of burning down the world, and that's the crux of their relationship.

[akkivee]

part of my ichikuu agenda is supplanting the idea that ichiro and kuukou always shared their food, most times mutually, sometimes not lol

but whenever they both were just strapped on cash, they’d pull together whatever change they did have on them and share whatever fast food/convenience store they could afford 🥺

[deus-ex-mona]

“a sicks’ dream come true; coming soon to fanfic channels near you”

[ikemenomegas]

the myy oc is simultaneously the one to make obnoxious little squeeing noises whenever megumi does literally anything and make tsumiki bring along disposable cameras on vacation because it's the only way to get her to admit what she's *actually* looking at, and the one to literally puke in the bushes or hide against a wall when Satoru does something that gives them secondhand embarrassment

literally the can't take it but can dish it out guardian XD

[moon-daisie]

since the duffer brothers said they’re drawing on season 2 stuff and ideas that didn’t make it into season 2 im now imagining a scenario where the party (featuring newest member wayne munson ofc) captures kas!eddie and have to burn the mind flayer out of him

[dilfdicks]

★ bestfriend!satoru who laughs when you ask casually how big he is.

'why d'you wanna know, hm?' the tone he uses isn't accidental, and it makes you roll your eyes.

"dunno. i'm curious? girls tell each other their bra sizes all the time."

satoru looks away, raises his chin and like the cheeky whore he is, challenges you. "too big for you to take."

nd god do you want to hate him for that answer, you'd like to slap him across the head and berate him for even thinking of saying something like that to you. but there's a sight in the forefront of your mind now, of your best friend having to force himself inside of you. you wonder if he's telling the truth, or just trying to rile you up... if he is that big, how many rounds would it take for you to take him to the base without crying? would you cry regardless? would he want you to?

"you're full of shit," you cross your arms and squeeze your thighs at the same time.

and satoru looks at you, takes in the weird way you're looking at him, like you've just had the most pornographic imagery play in your mind in which he's the star and you're the poor soul who won't be able to walk for a week—and he laughs. "what, you want to find out?"

you don't think best friends say yes to that kind of offer... but the lines always been blurred with satoru anyway.

"sure, gojo."

[seth-whumps]

I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks

welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course. follow @whumperless-whump-event for more information and details!

Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!

RULES

Any and all art types allowed (GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.)

No AI generated content allowed

OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)

Trigger and content tags required, even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting still needs the emetophobia tag)

NSFT and NSFW are allowed, if tagged appropriately. This blog will not reblog them, as minors do follow it. However, you're still free to write as you please :)

If enough interest is shown, I will make an Ao3 collection (edit: ao3 collection is made and can be found here)

Side note: please let me know if there's anything I can do to make this post or event more accessible. Should I put the image transcripts on the ID too? Is the formatting causing issues? What can I do?

This is not a contest, just an event. The only awards will be announcements for people who completed the whole darn thing. My entries will not receive any announcements or awards, because I'm hosting

TAGGING

Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1; #whumperless whump event; and (optional) #whumperless whump event day 1: alcohol as a sanitizer

Tag @whumperless-whump-event please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!

If desired, tag the medium you used

Trigger tag and content warn (including nsfw/nsft)

If posting early, tag with #wwe early entry. If posting late, tag with #wwe late entry. If posting just for fun, no need to tag these!

IMPORTANT:

There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do 'em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! FOLLOW THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.

Prompts (text):

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”

It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”

Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”

Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”

Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”

It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”

It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”

Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”

In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”

I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”

The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”

It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”

Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”

Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”

Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”

We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”

That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”

What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”

Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”

Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”

Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”

ALTERNATES:

Seizure

Choking

Withdrawal

Mugged

Wild animal attack

Hangover

Strain/sprain

Broken bone

Bloody nose

Panic attack

[remlionheart]

⊹ ࣪ ˖☁️ daydreaming about...

𓆩♡𓆪aged up characters, MDNI𓆩♡𓆪

soft boyfriend megumi who is so secretly sentimental that he saves birthday cards, movie stubs, train tickets - that empty perfume bottle you were planning on throwing out? it's stashed away in his nightstand just so he can have a comforting little reminder of you on the nights that you're away.

soft boyfriend megumi who steals your hoodies and pretends he didn't when asked about it. "you must've accidentally left it here," he shrugs dismissively, knowing damn well that he'd swiped it out of your bag before you left his house last. "why would i have taken it?"

soft boyfriend megumi who spends so much time quietly observing you that he knows all of your mannerisms and what each of them mean no matter how subtle they might seem to others. the nervous laugh you let out when you feel like you've said something dumb, accompanied by your teeth slightly digging into your bottom lip as you look away. his hand finds the small of your back while the two of you continue your walk with yuuji and nobara, light fingertips digging into your hip to pull you closer to him.

soft boyfriend megumi who's always grabbing the sides of your face, gently forcing your eyes to lock with his, especially when you're upset. "tell me," his voice is firm but sincere, the palm of his hand warm against your cheek as his thumb trails across your jawline, "doesn't matter what it is, we'll figure it out together, okay? just tell me."

soft boyfriend megumi who reaches for your hand while he's on top of you, lacing his fingers into yours as he lines himself up with your entrance. whispering sweet heady nothings like, "you look so pretty, y'know that?", "focus on me, baby. yeah, just like that. always such a perfect girl for me."

soft boyfriend megumi who presses his lips against your forehead as his thrusts become deeper and more fervent, "i know," he whispers, mouth dropping open at how fucking good you feel as his face gradually returns back to yours. "i know, i know. right there, huh?" he soothes, feeling you tightening around him. "i'm not stopping, baby, don't worry. just hold onto me, i've got you."