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gojoshooter · 6 months

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Asking Jock!Yuuji To Teach You Lift Weights

pairing : aged up Jock!Yuuji x f!reader

an : here's to my first Yuji fic~ hope u like <3

A soft sigh leaves you. It has barely been fifteen minutes — fifteen minutes since the familiar strapping pinkette has walked into your local gym. If you take a rough guess... it has been a few weeks since he joined in, and since then, you've been anything but focused on your routine.

Anything but calm and ofcourse it's not because you're thinking about eight thousand and one ways to approach a cute jock boy without sounding like a fangirl. Ofcourse not, it's the treadmill. The only time you ever took a good look at his sweaty natural black undercut and the crescent smiley eyes is through the mirror in front. You know better, but the problem is you're a lil wimp like your bestfriend calls you.

Speaking of your dear bestfriend— you check your watch— who is late as ever, you take a couple long drags of the morning gym air.

I'll make it fast, let's do this, I have a chance. Maybe. How do the popular girls make a move? I can't think too much. Nooo no no. Alright, he'll not hang me for walking his way, chill out y/n. Not like I'll mind but—

He whips his head. Your first instinct is to stupidly turn around and skip out of the damned gym. But you're a human, and you need to speak before his brows lift higher. You've been walking his way all while reciting your inner monologue and almost tripped into the back of his damp sleeveless tee. You didn't even notice he was almost a foot taller than you, until this moment. Heat rises to your neck, crawling up your face.

“Uuh...” Seriously, of the thousands of times you thought of this moment, never did you think what then.

“Actually...” you start again, with a little more adrenaline to back you up. “you seem quite fit, heh... would you mind teaching me uh... bench press?” Not the best excuse cause, atleast your bestfriend knows you're one hell of a weightlifter. That's also one of the reasons why you're attracted to him. He's like... the level hundred boss of weightlifting, you've seen him do it.

“Oh... why not? Come up here!” his smile as innocent as if he doesn't shoot hearts with it. You watch him fan his sweating face with the loose neck of his tee as he makes his way to the other section. You follow behind, and a mental image of your friend rolling her eyes pops in your mind. Whatever, if you're gonna fuck this up, you're doing it good.

“Have you tried lifting before? I'll recommend squat bar weights for starters...” to which your head shakes fast. “No... I've tried that. I really wanted to try this you know... and... the coaches seem busy” his gaze lowers from your eyes to your subconscious little pout, and he's throwing that smile again. He'll definitely pass as a human golden retriever.

“No worries, I'm not the best teacher but since you're not new we can work it yeah?” he slips behind you, asking in a tone that if you'd try to describe, you'd either be called horny or exaggerating. “Can I touch you? I mean... to guide, you know?” one of his hands hover around your shoulder, to hint you to lay on the low bench. You nod with a smile as the boxes of your criteria fill with check marks. Tall, check. Cute, check. Big and built, check. Humble, check check check.

In seconds, there's a heavy palm on the small of your back guiding you to the long bar while you try looking as inexperienced as possible. You notice he's gentle and careful with details of execution, while fixing your back.

“Now look up at me,” he's instructing, as he looks down at your layed form. The lights above him makes a halo over his head and he smiles down at you. “keep your eyes up, mm?” you nod, suppressed your shy smile with a bit.

“I'm gonna touch your sternum... right here,” a slow poke below your chest that accelerates and stops your clumsy heart at the same time. “bring the barbell down there and then straight up with your arms, can you do that?” with a nod, warm rough palms guide your clammy ones as you lift the weight. “Easy... don't rush” firm.

“Am I being good?” you croak out, immediately clearing your throat. His eyes zero at yours, and he's chuckling. You prey to the gods to not make it seem like some sly innuendo. “You're being good, good girl, you're strong”. Fuels my praise kink, check.

All while you were lost in the abyss of training with your gym crush, you peek sideways when you feel a third presence.

Your bestfriend. Oh, she was late. “Maki... you're late,” The now divided attention causes you to loose your grip, and the barbell is now in the big palms and flexing bisceps of your almighty interest who's looming on the side of your head.

“S-Sorry! My b-”

“Are you distracted? Take a break” surprisingly gentle. A pout forms on your pretty lips. Whines to keep this lil training going are about to fall when your friend looks at you through specs, “What's going on... y/n?” “We're training! She's so good, you know. Almost too good for a starter”

You whip your head the other way when the weired out pretty face of your bestie look at your half-layed form. Don't say it, don't say it. “I thought she knows to lift better than me... what are you learning y/n?” Now, there are two heads looking you down. Never was a time you ever wanted to play dead on the spot as bad.

It's quite comical—and pretty cute if you ask him. Tilting his pink fluffy head, he inspects with a light giggle “Is that so, y/n?” When you turn your head, your eyes land on Maki. Seems like things are finally going down in her brain, and she shrugs away to the treadmills mumbling something along the lines of you being ludicrous. No one's there to save you now, you're by your own with eyes everywhere but on him as you slowly sit up.

“Um- I can explain actually-”

“And it's not another lie?” you stop mid way, thinking about whatever you'd make up as an excuse and it indeed would've been a lie.

Before you burst out of embarrassment or the gym — he snickers as he pinches your cheeks.

“I'd be lying if I say that wasn't adorable,” you look down, licking your dry lips when the little pinch turns your cheeks rosier “but pretty girls don't need antics like that, do they?” You're not even thinking anymore, flushing red and nodding along like a kid. You see him standing up from the bench.

There's a heavy sigh — not out of frustration. “Gym time's over for me I guess... ” he's chewing his lower lip, sliding his phone out subtly. Contemplating something?

“Here... I can teach you some more if you like” he's the one to call you cute? boy should see mirror. you look up at his face and down at his phone twice “oh... OH!” your smaller hands scramble to take the phone, punch your number with shaking fingers.

As you give the phone back, you stand to greet him byes, tucking a few loose strands behind your pink ears. He smiles shyly at your little hand wave, reciprocating as he walks out of the gym lights.

Heartthrob, check!

masterlist !!

p.s. never thought I'll research for a fic XD but yup, i did some. also please do not try this to win a boy lol. annnd likes and rbs are appreciated! hope you enjoyed this <33

tags. @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @4sat0ruu @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts @kxhyuns @cha0thicpisces @robynnnhooddd @megumishousewife @doumaverse @reireyrei @leiahsblog @beccygojo @kvid4t @whodoesthatanymore @pupkashi @swaggygurlbae @k-usuo-saik-i @ladyslayage @kissyhalik

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izvmimi · 10 months

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our time - izuku x reader

cw: minors dni, fem!reader, reader implied to be a hero & high school sweetheart, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex, public sex, hot tub sex, shower sex, sex toy use, safe word use, rapid shifts between humor, smut, and hurt/comfort, lots of cheesy jokes tbh, deku is a little bit sassy, bakugou and shinsou have unnamed female partners, baby mention. summary: you and izuku share a yearly tradition. a/n: i'm reposting this hella self-indulgent selfship fic because i can!

“This is a lot of packing for a two day trip,” Izuku teases, as you hand him your overstuffed suitcase, the same dark green typical of his merchandise. He places it next to his noticeably lighter one, which coincidentally is a deep purple and has your Hero name plastered all over it.

“Yeah, but I’m guessing you want to see me in as many outfits as possible in a 48 hour period, right?” you tease back, tapping him gently on the nose. He leans in as he presses the rear door close button to the SUV, then grins.

In a low voice, he whispers, “that’s quite a bit of clothing for me to tear off. Are you sure?”

Your face warms and you hate that you never win at this game, but try to come up with something quick to say.

“I’ll be swiping your card indiscriminately to replace anything you ruin this year,” you add, eyes lowering to where your finger is prodding his chest. His eyes seem to twinkle.

“Sounds like I need to make more money then.”

He’s won this round. The warmth spreads to your ears and reflexively you hit his shoulder. His grin widens and you slip from his gaze to run to the passenger side of the car. No more time for banter.

“We’re gonna be late, Izuku!"

Bakugou has given you clear instructions to pick up the keys to your shared vacation home between 6 to 7 pm and will give you absolutely no room for tardiness. You anticipate that he’ll make all manners of disgusted facial expressions when you show up to his place, given that he knows exactly what you’ll be doing for the next 48 hours, and you are still trying to decide whether or not you should play along and double down or admit that you’re a little embarrassed ever since you started this tradition.

Or at least that you’re embarrassed your closest friends are aware of what exactly this tradition entails.

Izuku, on the other hand, never has any shame it seems. If anything, he’s a little overeager for this “retreat” this year, and it’s almost certainly because the past few weeks at work were nothing short of a nightmare for him. Catastrophes that seemed to only prop up as far as humanly possible from you seemed to be the order of the day recently, and you hadn’t had time for dedicated physical intimacy in a while, let alone even see him between missions. The only thing that made it easier to tolerate his absence was that you fell asleep so fast these days due to exhaustion that you barely noticed his side of the bed stayed empty the entire night.

As he drives, possibly a little too fast and somewhat recklessly (frankly unexpected for a person like him), he holds your hand with varying levels of tightness as though he’s playing with the feel of your hands in his - remembering it, reacquainting himself. He doesn’t say much yet but you can tell by the look in his eye and the twitch in his lips (controlling his urge to talk under his breath), that he’s daydreaming. You have an idea what of.

Pervert.

“What are you thinking of, Izuku?” you inquire after a moment. The goal of the statement is to disarm him which only works half the time.

“Sex,” he replies, bluntly. He doesn’t turn to look at you, focusing on the road carefully, but his fingers tighten again around yours as you pull away indignantly.

“Stop!” you hiss and he laughs loudly. Every time he sneaks a glance at your flustered expression for the next few moments, he breaks out into another bout of laughter and you can’t help but smile too.

“People need to know how ridiculous you are sometimes,” you murmur. “I should expose you, honestly. Let them know who their hero really is.”

“I thought you hated sharing me with everyone,” he says. You meet his sideways glance as he turns, hand over hand, into Bakugou’s driveway. You consider his words for a moment, then sigh.

“I guess you’re right. I do.”

The car slows to a stop and he parks then faces you in the car for a moment. Sometimes you wonder how he manages to do this - look at you every so often like it’s truly the first time he’s ever seeing you, even if you’ve known each other since you were high-schoolers. He places a hand on your knee as you turn towards him.

“I’m yours, okay? Not just during our birthday vacation but all the time,” he reminds you. You twist your mouth to the side. There’s something about Izuku that indulges the more immature parts of you, and he handles them all the same.

“Understood?” he insists.

You nod, pretend-reluctantly, and he whispers, “Good girl,” before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Things have been hard recently, you think, but when he’s close to you like this, everything you go through feels worth it. There’s another kiss that makes it to your lips, and perhaps your arms make their way around his neck and-

“I swear to God if you guys start to fuck on my property, I will tear both of you a new one.”

With Bakugou’s irritated voice calling out to you, there’s a flash of the driveway lights that nearly blinds you, as though you are teenagers being caught getting too close in the driveway of your parents’ home.

Izuku steps out of the car first and Bakugou throws a set of keys at him before flashing you an annoyed look. You give him a cheeky raise of the eyebrows to acknowledge him similarly, pretending not to notice the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt, and look around him to see one of your favorite people make her way out of the house from behind him.

She’s wrapped haphazardly in a shawl and you laugh as she hugs you, able to tell she clearly just threw those clothes on ten seconds ago, if the breathiness in her voice and the flush in her cheeks is not enough to make it obvious.

“Please do not poke my eye out with your titties, I’m begging you love.” She grins widely as she squeezes you tighter.

“You don’t need your eyes to suck cock, do you?” she whispers into your ear. You roll your eyes.

“Can you ever be civilized?”

“Good question,” Bakugou asks, but not before slapping his wife’s ass on the way back into his house. “Don’t crash on your way there, Midoriya, I don’t want to pick up your shifts.”

“That’s his way to say ‘drive safely’!” your friend translates as she gives Izuku a quick, slightly more chaste hug, then jogs backwards back into the house where Bakugou is waiting. “Happy birthday! Let me know when you guys get there!”

“We will! Thanks!” you wave.

When you turn, Izuku is already getting back into the car. It doesn’t take long for both of you immediately to burst into laughter.

“Kacchan is such a hypocrite. As if we don’t see the bite marks all over his chest.”

“And __’s neck. Embarrassing.”

You tease but it’s cute to see them so happy. Of all your friends, you think they’ve been stable the longest, and their relationship simply fell into place. It helps you believe that perhaps things will be good for you long-term as well.

As if Midoriya can read your wistful thoughts, he picks up your hand and kisses the knuckles idly for a moment as he continues to drive, the highway tapering off into a smaller paved road as night settles in. Both of you are tired from the week, and opt for peaceful silence and music played at a low volume. After all, you will have plenty of uninterrupted time shortly.

---

You’re not sure when you dozed off exactly.

Izuku nudges you gently to wake you then carries you out of the car with one arm and produces a couple dark tendrils from Blackwhip with the other to pull the luggage behind you.

“I can walk,” you murmur, although you like the idea of being carried, and hope he insists, which he does, and you nuzzle closer into his chest, taking in the scent of his cologne.

There’s a small gate outside of the cabin that is truly underestimated by the word; rather, it is a large and lavish three-winged property, U-shaped, and fairly secluded in the forest and trees. A section, the rightmost one, belongs to you and features the name ‘Midoriya’ on a welcome mat in front of the entryway.

Izuku takes in an exaggerated deep breath as he opens the door, and excitedly exclaims,

“Finally. Peace and quiet.”

You try to stifle a laugh as he sets you down, and stretch out a hand for him to toss you his phone and drop in a special safe hanging from the side of the wall along with your own. There’s a preset timer set for 48 hours (except for emergencies) on its display that you contemplate before confirming.

“It’s silly that we do this!” you call out, feeling the disconnection to the outside world immediately the second the safe beeps to signal that it’s locked. Yet it’s necessary, because both of you are bad at blocking out the outside world and simply relaxing when needed.

Izuku steps out of the master bedroom, completely undressed aside from a pair of boxer briefs which he is also actively in the process of shedding. You take in his body, impressive in its shape and decorated with scars and freckles, and almost miss what he says.

“What’s silly is that you’re fully clothed when it’s hot tub time.”

Your eyes widen and you blink a few times in succession as you watch him strip to nothing, and suddenly you forget that you’re exhausted. Swallowing hard, you make your way towards him, but really past him, towards the room where your packed clothing lies, and he intercepts you on the way there, grinning widely as he towers over you.

“I need to get my bathing suit,” you pout, knowing very well you’re not getting past him.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lays kisses on your neck that immediately disarm you. You can feel your body sink into him, as you make soft sounds of protest but soon you’re in his arms again and he’s carrying you to the hot tub, lips connected with every step.

…

The night continues and you sink deep onto Izuku’s cock, heat rising around and inside you. Your fingers cling to his broad shoulders as you slide onto him repeatedly, half-lidded eyes gazing down at him. He aids your descent, gliding you onto him as he worships your bosom with his tongue, laving a different wetness along your nipples and the curve of your breast, sucking at the sensitive skin.

“God, I needed this,” he whimpers as he buries his face into your neck. He cums, holding you tightly, filling you for the first time that night. The splash of water as he moves you so that your back presses against him and he can kiss the nape of your neck is somewhat soothing to your ears, as is the sound of his breathing as he holds you close.

You need him more - always, really. You revel in the way he plays with your hair and runs his calloused hands along your skin.

You also revel further in the way he dives deep between your legs, after you’ve sat together in the tub and let stress melt away, and after you’ve fucked a second time in the shower, your back pressed against the warm tile, and his hands supporting the weight of your thighs, steady despite the slippery water running over your bodies. He sucks your clit and blows softly against your folds, excited by the tensing of your thighs against his head and the relentless moans.

“‘Zuku, it’s too much…”

It’s never too much, because you can always handle more of him, and he eats you out till you cry and cum all over again, messy on his face, wrists in the palm of his broad hand. He kisses your belly as you practically convulse and come down from your high.

“Wanna rest, baby?” he asks. It’s hard for you to speak as your head spins, so instead you curl up against him. He takes it as a yes.

You fall asleep in his arms, beating hearts pressed close together. There will be more in the AM.

---

The smell of breakfast wakes you before a gentle ache in your thighs. As you shift and reorient yourself from the unfamiliar surroundings, you can hear Izuku make his way in the room with an impossibly loaded tray of breakfast foods he sets precariously on a coffee table across from the California King bed.

“Rise and shine, love.”

Before you can shift, Izuku makes his way on top of you, laughing as you wriggle under him.

“You’re so freaking heavy,” you hiss, but your arms make their way around his bare chest and you inhale his scent. His natural smell is comforting in its familiarity and despite the fact that you’ve been skin to skin nearly all of last night, you crave more closeness. His voice rumbles against your skin as he holds you tightly.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

“Like a baby,” you reply.

“Perfect. We should have breakfast,’ he insists. “We could go on a short hike and watch some of the birds in this area.”

“Mm, definitely.”

You kiss his forehead and satisfied, he rolls off of you too quickly for you to reach and slap his ass. He gives you a cheeky look and you crinkle your nose at him first before you decide to get out of bed.

You slip your feet into warm fuzzy sandals and head to the bathroom to brush your teeth first. A blanket is wrapped around your naked body, because you don’t like how the floor-to-ceiling glass windows make it easy for anyone (anyone who dares to anyway) to peep at you. Izuku is at the second sink at the far end, rubbing day-old stubble on his chin to decide if he wants to shave.

“Keep it,” you ask him as you press toothpaste onto your toothbrush. In response, he scratches his chin against yours as you bat him away.

“Maybe I will.”

Breakfast is filled with chatter and laughter, realizing you haven’t had enough time to really speak to each other in the past few months, despite living in the same house. You hold his hand as you walk up higher and higher up the mountain, clad in shirts and cargo shorts and too much sunscreen, bellies full but not heavy.

Izuku has a guide in his hand that you cannot fathom when he had the time to read that identifies more than a couple of creatures that soar above in the early morning, and you get surprisingly good pictures, particularly when Izuku uses his Quirk to get you high into the treetops for a better vantage point.

You do some foraging as well, of different fruits and flowers to add to your scrapbook, petals to press later -

Much like you find Izuku pressing into you shortly after, shrouded in the denser part of the brush, away from the shy fauna. All you can feel is him, all you can see is him raised above you, and the caws of birds that are probably embarrassed to witness how easily you drip like sap around him.

“..h-harder, Izuku,” you demand, scratching at his neck, his chest, his back, anything to communicate your feral desire. He bites your shoulder as he grunts in response, driving as much cock into you as he can muster, and you get what you asked for.

---

“I can’t believe you convinced me to roll around in the dirt with you.”

You gently admonish him with a kick of your leg, sending bathwater splashing at his face. He grips your leg and straightens it, laughing as you give him a slightly surprised look.

“As opposed to everything else you’d be willing to do for me?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your ankle. You can feel heat spread to your neck as he kisses further but stops just short of your knee, and then wades from his end of the bathtub to yours, pulling you to his side.

“When did you get so cocky?” you flick more water at him with your fingers as he grins. Your bodies shift in position, until your back rests against his chest and he’s holding your breasts in your hands, grazing your nipples with his thumbs.

“Way back when I finally got your attention.”

You turn suddenly to kiss him then pause. His lips are parted and soft and he looks somewhat surprised by your sudden movement. There’s something that’s said between you two without words, something that whispers I’ve missed you despite the fact that you and he have always been here.

“Do I still have it?” he whispers suddenly, as his lips ghost yours.

“Always.”

The scent of rose and jasmine fills your nostrils and love fills your heart.

---

“I’m surprised even though this is the third time we’ve been here, I never get tired of this place,” you say as Izuku lays his head in your lap. Izuku might as well be something like a cat or a bunny at this rate - you can practically feel him purr with the gentle scratches of your nails against his scalp, and his hand squeezes your thigh gently whenever you stop. “I still don’t think we’ve seen everything,” you continue.

“Probably not,” he agrees. His wavy hair is slightly damp still, and the rise and fall of his chest is slow and steady. He’s staring up at the ceiling and you can tell his mind, for once in a long while, is almost completely clear.

Almost.

You can’t lie that you haven’t been a little worried about your phone messages and other updates you’ve been missing while you’ve been engrossed with Izuku, and you can tell he feels similarly, a little bit of guilt settling in. It’s the same for you. Work, work, work. That’s what life has been like between you two as you’ve climbed your respective career ladders, trying to save the world as best you can. Times like this are rare and need to be protected as something as precious as people’s lives.

“Oh my God, do you remember the last time we were here and your nosy self thought it was a smart idea to start exploring the other wings?”

Izuku’s eyes widen as he recalls.

“Fuck.”

You start to laugh and kick your legs and he gets up, shaking his head.

“Shinsou told me the next time I trespassed he would have me shit myself in public. I hear him in my nightmares sometimes, honestly.”

You laugh even louder, doubled over as the image of Izuku, suddenly dangling from the ceiling by his ankle the second he passed through one door too many.

“The way you called my nameeeeeee!” you cackle as he pouts. “You were swinging there like a trapped animal!”

He purses his lips at you but you’re too busy laughing your ass off to notice, and eventually he ends up laughing too, falling back into your lap. His hands reach up to press your cheeks together.

“You know, it’s weird how many ropes and traps and harnesses are just littered around… Your friends are into some kinky shit,” he points out. Remembering many a midnight conversation about Shinsou and your friend’s ventures into shibari, you simply have to agree.

“I don’t know, I guess she likes being tied up.”

Izuku shoots you another glance, and you can see the glint of mischief in his eye.

“Do you want me to tie you up more?”

You tap his forehead with two fingers. “If I were into that, you’d know by now.”

He pretend-bites your fingers the next time you poke him. “Things can change.”

“Fair,” you reply. You pause, and then you look at him suspiciously. “You have ropes in your bag, don’t you?”

Izuku laughs frankly at the accusation. “I actually don’t, but I’ll keep that in the back of my mind… Plus Blackwhip is always handy.”

You can feel your face grow hot and he pats your face teasingly.

“I have other things packed, though.” Izuku grins.

That’s how you end up, spine curled into a C and legs raised with ankles by your head, panting and trembling as Izuku intermittently presses a vibrator against your clit.

“Come on, one more for me, baby,” he pleads, kissing the sweat on your brow as he holds your wrists above your head with one hand and torments your pussy with the other. Your voice comes out in soft cries as you try to recover from muscles clenching around nothing every time he makes you cum, swallowing the noises that slip out of your throat in orgasm with a kiss.

“I d-don’t have any more!” you cry, tears at the corner of your eyes. He gives you a long look and switches off the vibrator, and the last few pulses threaten to send you over the edge again. You’re too tired to wriggle out of the position and he doesn’t move you, keeping you in place.

“Temperature?” he asks.

You consider for a moment despite your lust-filled haze.

“Hot,” you finally decide. He smiles then bites your lip before switching the vibrator back on.

---

“I don’t want to leave,” you say first.

The two of you watch the stars around a small bonfire and share bites of cake that is slightly too sweet for his liking and slightly too heavy for your liking but somehow neither of you can get enough of. He says nothing but nuzzles into your neck more as you cuddle.

It’s surprisingly quiet and melancholy now, as if just a couple hours ago you weren’t screaming his name, as if his thumbs weren’t just dug in the spaces where you back and your glutes meet as he gave you relentless backshots.

“I wish we could stay forever like this,” you continue, then you laugh. “But you’d get sick of me, wouldn’t you, Izuku?”

“Never.”

You turn to look at him. He sounds a little bit too serious. He’s not looking at you but at the fire ahead and you worry that he’s worrying about facing tomorrow yet again. Izuku has once told you that it’s not that he’s no longer nervous, but that the anxiety is less and less able to prevent him from acting the way his heart tells him to as time goes on.

His legs move first. Always. And yet, it doesn’t mean the fear is no longer not there. It creeps when the rush of adventure is no longer able to drown it out.

It creeps when he holds you like this.

“You’d get tired of me first,” he adds as he fixes his gaze onto you.

“You know that that’s ridiculous,” you giggle. But he isn’t laughing and the crackle of the fire is suddenly too loud.

“It isn’t. There’s a lot you can have that I can’t give you all the time.” He says. Your heart starting to race, you pull away from him just slightly and his hold on you releases just enough for you to turn and really face him.

“I don’t want anything else,” you insist.

“You should,” he says. The tone of his voice is a little quieter now, and then he repeats himself louder. “You should want someone who is present.”

“I want you.”

He doesn’t say anything else because he knows you will argue away anything he tells you. So instead he sighs, not wanting to ruin the last few hours of vacation.

“Someday, it’ll just be this,” he says, “and it’ll be more than enough.” He kisses the top of your head. “I promise.”

You believe him. You know what he means by this intrinsically, as though you were in his head. A space for just the two of you and nothing to worry about. Where you can grow old together, where you are no longer weighed down by what you have yet to achieve and what you have already accomplished.

---

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear.

You know he does. You know, and if for even a second you forget, he will tell you over and over and over again.

Your fingers intertwine with his and you sigh, back arching as you open up for him. You fit together perfectly, again and again and again. Forever.

There’s a deep flush in his cheeks as he whispers words of praise into your skin. Another year passes and your love only continues to grow, tended to or not.

“I love you too, Izuku. Happy birthday.”

---

“The second my phone turns on, she’s gonna call me, watch,” you joke, as you open up the phone safe. 48 hours are up, and yes your legs are wobbly, but the red string of Fate that ties you two no longer frays. As expected, there is a flurry of texts that blow up your phone, and as Izuku prepares the car, you try to see which one you can respond to first.

I set the timer by the way 👶🍼. May the odds ever be in your favor.

gtfoooooo 💀, you text back to Shinsou’s favorite rope bunny. But as you watch your husband disappear into the distance, you think that it might not be so bad to have a little one.

“So how many?”

The expected phone call arrives while the two of you are back on the road.

“How many what?” you ask suspiciously. Izuku glances at you with curiosity.

“Orgasms? What else?” she clarifies, and you’re immediately flustered, practically able to see the mischievous smile on her face. Izuku hears it through the end of the receiver and laughs, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Izuku, do not answer-”

“Whatever Bakugou’s capable of plus one,” he says loudly, leading in.

“Bullshit!” your friend shouts back, and you can hear her already shuffling to tell Bakugou and you sigh.

“I’m hanging up,” you announce before an argument begins.

“Why babe?” Izuku whines, but the phone clicks off and he laughs even louder. “He’s gonna be thinking about that all night.”

“Don’t pick up the phone,” you say, but a smile forms on your face. You look forward and the sun is setting on the horizon as you drive next to Izuku.

It was a nice weekend. You’ll have many more to come.

Together.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #deku smut #pro hero deku smut #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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Can I request a fic where Reader’s parents were recently killed and she has to look after her younger siblings. She needs to find a way to earn money so she is forced to become a prostitute/sex worker. Only thing is she is a virgin. And guess who takes her virginity as part of the job? (Joel!). Not sure how you can make it dark, but that’s up to you!

virgin sex worker

<1k words | joel x f!reader | masterlist

18+ virginity loss, unsafe PIV sex, bj, Joel talks you through the whole thing. Post-outbreak.

"Call me Joel," the john says.

"It's my first time," you tell him.

"No different from doin' it with a boyfriend," he reassures you as he unzips his pants.

"No, I've never. . . It's my first time, ever."

He looks stunned but not put off. "Why ya doin' this?"

"It's really none of your business, I'm not gonna justify myself to you."

"Why me then? Lotta men would pay top dollar for a virgin."

"You're a regular, right? The other girls said you'd be good for my first time. Nice and gentle?"

"Whew, that ain't me, baby," he laughs. "Must be their sick idea of hazing the new girl. . . Must want me to break ya in reeeal good."

Your face goes cold and your eyes prickle with tears.

"Don't worry baby, I can try my best . . . c’mere, let’s see what we’re workin’ with.” He pats the bed. “Bend over for me.” He takes off his jeans.

You bend over with your ass in the air. He lifts up your skirt and pulls down your panties. "Mmm now that's a nice lookin' pussy."

He strokes it but you aren’t wet. He puts his hands on your waist then asks “ok if I move ya'round and shit?”

“Um, yeah,” you answer.

He somewhat roughly throws you on your back. “Was that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“I’m gonna make it so it feels better for ya, k?” He takes your panties all the way off then puts his head between your legs. His tongue on your clit turns you on right away. He kisses, licks, and sucks at your pussy, always returning to your clit. You moan in pleasure, then he sticks a finger in.

“Good girl, now we’re in business.” He slowly pumps that one finger as he keeps pleasuring you with his mouth. Then he sticks another finger in. He grunts in satisfaction as he pulls his mouth away, and looks up at you from between your thighs. “Nobody ever been in here?”

“No, only toys.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “Well good, that means you prolly won’t bleed too much.

He slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you, then curls them. It’s quite a stretch, but still pleasant. After awhile, Joel sits up and gives you a little smile, thumbing your clit one last time as his fingers slide out.

“Alright, we’re warmed up, ready to go,” Joel says while palming himself over his boxers. “You wanna give it a kiss first, get to know it?”

You sit up, then bend over again so your head is at dick-level with him standing next to the old, dirty bed. His hard cock intimidates you but also sends a pang of arousal between your legs. You wrap your hand around it and he sighs. You put your lips around the head and he says “Yeah, attagirl.” When you begin to suck, he gives a low whistle. “Damn, you suck a good cock.”

You’ve done your research.

“Alright now.” You take your head off his cock and wait for his instructions. He sits on the bed with his back against the headboard. “How bout ya just come on up here.” He pats his lap. “Take it how you want it, and I’ll try not to interfere.”

You slowly straddle him and hover over his cock. He holds it for you in one hand and watches you hungrily. He fingers you again with his free hand, then urges you closer, pulling you by your ass. He aligns his tip at your entrance, then you slowly sink onto it. In a way, it feels amazing, but It’s a major stretch and also hurts. You wince. He breathes heavily, trying to control himself.

“Ok if I help?” he asks and you nod. His hands come to your hips and gently press down. You gasp and your face screws up.

“Sometimes ya gotta rip the bandaid off. want me to do that for ya, baby?”

You’re nervous but you don’t think you can go any further without more help.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Attagirl,” he says. His large hands pull you down hard on his cock and he grunts loudly. You gasp at the intrusion. It feels like he’s inhabiting most of your body. He thrusts up into you and you gasp again. It hurts, but not in a very bad way.

Then, he sits more upright and puts you on your back. He pulls out most of the way, then slams his cock into you and you both grunt as the force pushes you down the bed. He begins to really fuck you. “Tell me if it hurts,” he says and you nod. His face darkens, then he pounds into you repeatedly. It hurts, but not bad enough to say it. The feeling of being filled by him outweighs the pain.

After a few minutes, he says he’s about to come. “Wanna see how it tastes?”

“Yeah,” you say as he pulls out. He straddles you and walks on his knees up to your armpits, leans forward, and you lift your neck to accept him into your mouth. Then he groans and pulses into your mouth.

It's salty and a little tart.

"Good girl," Joel whispers as you take the last of his load. He gets dressed while you freshen up. He's sitting on the bed in his jeans when you come out.

"You're still here?" You ask.

"Yeah, you good?"

You nod.

"Can I give ya'a hug?"

You hug goodbye and the taste lingers in your mouth all day.

------

This was a quick one from the ask cellar. Ty for reading!

#dark!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #toxicanonymity ☠️

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roadkillremi · 7 months

Text

Kinktober '23

1 out of 11

Degrading

Billy loomis

MasterList. Kinktober

Summary : Pure filth. The characters are 18+

Warnings : smut without a plot, minors DNI, degrading, language, oral (m receiving).

Sorry it's a bit lazily written :(

You sat on your bed gripping the ends of your nightgown. Billy squatted down to your level as if you were a child.

"Understand?" He tilted his head so you could see his face fully. You nod, "I'm okay with it.".

He smirked standing up looking over your body. Your eyes scan over his body eventually meeting his. Your face flushed pink, "Don't act so innocent. Last week you begged for my cock.".

Your chest tightened as you nodded, "sorry.". He tilted your chin upwards, "So pretty...". He leaned down grabbing your nightgown to lift it up. You raised your arms to help it slide off of you. You shivered a bit as your bare chest hit the air.

"Just tell me if you ever need to stop."

"Okay.."you whispered. He raised his eyebrow and grabbed your jaw.

"Use your manners." He spoke strict and gripped your jaw tightly.

"Yes, sir." You corrected. He smiled, "Good little slut.". You tightened your legs together at his words.

"Now lay down and let me use you like the whore you are." He started undressing himself. You nodded laying down on your bed as you watched him undress. You tried to prepare yourself for Billy. He never gave you a second to adjust to his size. He always just got what he wanted, and you had no problem with that.

He crawled on top of you, "Lift your legs up.". You obeyed lifting your legs up wrapping your arms around your knees.

"There you go.. that's right open your legs for me." He whispered. He aligned himself dragging his members in your folds. You whined bucking your hips up craving more. He smacked your thigh gently letting you know to stop.

"So needy, hmm? Ready to be my little come dumpster?" He teased.

"Yes, sir.." you mumbled. He smiled entering the tip in. You bit your lip anticipating more of him. He steadied his balance placing his arms beside your head. He thrust his hips forward giving you a smirk. You moaned softly squirming beneath him, "Stay still." He ordered. You moved your hips against his causing him to force your hip down. His fingers from little crescent shapes on your hips. He leaned down close to your ear, his hot breath heating it up.

"God, I didn't even tease you and you're wet.. you really are just a little slut." His voice was low and raspy. You nodded as you let out a small moan. He glared at you, "Stop playing stupid. Use your damn words.".

"Sorry, Sir... it's..so.. so much" you whined. His cock was too much as he pumped into you without waiting. Your walls clenched as they tried to adjust. He smiled continuing to shove his hips forward.

"I can stop if you cant handle it."

You shook your head no desperately, he chuckled.

"Words." He demanded. You took a Shakey breath, "I can handle it.".

"Good..".

You glanced up at his face surprised to hear a praise. You parted your lips about to tease him for getting out of character.

"If you say something I will leave you needy-" he threatened. You closed your mouth and nodded, he grinned.

"That's better." He leaned down giving you a hungry kiss. His lips moved down to your neck, he left small pecks before biting. You tilted your head up hinting to him you craved more. He chuckled against your neck, "So pathetic.. all worked over some love bites.".

"Not pathetic" you breathed between moans. He sat up glaring down at you, "You aren't?". You froze not sure how to respond.

"Don't act like you can't talk now." He growled. You shook your head, "I'm not.".

"I guess I'll just stop then.". He pulled out turning away.

"No!" You sat up grabbing his arm. He smirked and turned back towards you. You looked down embarrassed, "I mean .. please don't.".

"That's better.." he smiled. He grabbed your hips pulling you closer to him. You let out a huff as you landed on your back. He gripped your plush thighs shoving himself back in. You let out a yelp of pleasure as he pushed himself further.

"Listen, I'm going to fuck you. And you're gonna take it. That's alright?" He tilted his head down to you.

"Yes, sir." You muttered trying to take it all in. He smirked leaning down, "Tell me how much of a whore you are for me.". You moaned softly trying to gather a response.

"use that dumb head of yours." He added. You tilted your head back, "i.. I love your... your cock.." you mumbled out. He hummed to himself, "I know you do... tell me.. do you want me to come in your mouth?". Your eyes shot up at him, "Yes! Yes please..".

"You think you deserve it?" He asked. You slowly nodded, he stared down at you. He tilted his head to the side, "I guess you were a decent cum slut today.". You got excited sitting up on the edge of your bed. He pulled himself out waiting for you to get on your knees.

You slid down to your knees and wrapped your hands around his legs. He smirked, "Ready?". You nodded opening your mouth for him. He stroked himself while leaning closer to your mouth. You stuck your tongue desperately waiting for him. He guided your head to his crotch by gripping your hair.

"That's it.." he mumbled. You bobbed your head while sucking him. Your cheeks strained and drool spilled. He chuckled, "Such a needy little girl.". He gripped your hair pushing your head down. You felt his cock hit the back of your throat. You groaned against him feeling the urge to gag.

"Almost done. Don't give out on me yet." He muttered as he continued to harsh your throat. You squeezed his legs leaving red crescent marks. He pushed your head back down releasing himself in your mouth.

"Don't. Swallow." He demanded. You hold his release tasting his warmth. He smiled, "Open..". You opened your mouth showing him his come. He grinned, "Mm.. such a dirty slut. Always so desperately listening to my commands.".

Tag list -

@hurlonsororitygirls @sanzumylovee @katie-tibo @horneybeach1

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smytherines · 1 month

Text

Fuck it, here's an Agent Mega dissertation

Alright since I have such elaborate headcanon for my beloved precious Owen Carvour, I guess I should do it for Agent Curt Mega too. Sigh.

So, going off of the last big one, if Owen is born in 1928, then I'm gonna say Curt was born in 1930. I'm forever won to the Texan agent mega headcanon, but I think it's safe to say that Mrs. Mega is not from Texas, probably more like New York or I've seen people say New Jersey.

We know nothing about Agent Mega's dad, but I imagine he was kind of a loser and low level con artist and moved his pregnant wife down to Texas to do scams around the bustling oil industry, and then soon after Curt was born a scam collapsed and he ran off. It's either that or an Aladdin 3 situation where he was secretly a spy the whole time and had to go into hiding.

So we've got mama Mega, raising a VERY hyperactive (read: ADHD) little boy on her own, in a place where she doesn't have any support, and he just becomes her entire world. But she has to work a lot, so Curt becomes used to taking care of himself, and most importantly- keeping himself busy so he doesn't lose it.

In this headcanon Curt would only be 15 when WWII ends- not old enough to fight, but definitely old enough to have personally known a lot of kids from his hometown who come home in caskets. I just truly think of WWII as a formative experience for both these guys. For Curt it just feeds into that inferiority complex.

Now anybody who has ADHD knows that you already spend a lot of your life feeling inadequate, feeling self-conscious about not being able to be the person other people want you to be (*especially* if you're queer). You get defensive, especially when criticized. You also get restless.

I headcanon Curt as growing up in Abilene, Texas, mostly because I have a friend who grew up there and I've visited and the vibe is right.

I don't know if anybody has ever seen The Last Picture Show, but its a film set in small town Texas in 1951-1952 (so a little late for our timeline but still) and it's (more or less) about two high school seniors essentially trying to escape this suffocatingly small, dying town before they become doomed to spend their lives trapped there.

That's definitely what I think about Agent Mega too- this gay, ADHD teenage boy climbing the walls of this little town, never being able to fully be himself. But he's got a lot of energy (and more than a little anger) to burn off, so he does sports. It's Texas, so football for sure. Maybe wrestling too. Perhaps wrestling is even where he has his gay come to jesus moment.

And when he isn't doing sports, he's home, alone (mama Mega is working so hard), out back drinking a beer (or two, or three) and teaching himself how to shoot. I think he becomes hyperfixated on becoming an expert marksman, because with all of this shit he cannot control, all the stuff he is supposed to be but isn't, this is one area where it feels like he has the power here.

What starts off as "kid drinking beer to feel cool and rebellious" starts to morph into a lifetime dependence on alcohol. Substance use is a big issue for a lot of ADHDers for the same reason I think it would be for Curt- it calms him down. It eases that constant restlessness in his bones. It softens the edges of other people's criticisms of him. It makes him care a bit less what others think about him.

In a vicious cycle, he drinks to avoid feeling those big feelings (especially as a man, especially as a gay man, especially as a gay man in Texas), but the drinking leads to more criticism, which leads to more drinking to numb the emotional response to that criticism.

But his hyperfixation on learning to shoot pays off. Let's say he becomes a junior state champion trapshooter (did I look up trapshooting competitions from the 1940s? yes I did). He's good, especially when he hits the sweet spot of drinking just enough to calm his ass down but not so much that he's useless. Maybe this is how he comes to the attention of the A.S.S.

And he fully believes that these skills he cultivated, the ability to hit hard and run fast and shoot accurately, his ability to escape when it doesn't feel remotely possible, is why many years later he just kinda rolls his eyes at Owen for insisting that they do things carefully and methodically. Careful didn't get him out of small town Texas. Careful didn't get him the exciting non-stop life he has now, a life where he *almost* gets to be himself a lot of the time.

When Owen "dies," and its Curt's fault, he naturally turns to drinking to numb that pain. But its a lot of pain, so it takes a lot of alcohol to kill it.

I'm sure I could go on, but as always I have rambled a lot here so I'm just gonna leave it.

#spies are forever #agent curt mega #saf headcanon #SAFtistic

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coryothesub · 9 days

Note

Coryo wanting to be dominant, only receiving ridicule from the reader (it excites me and at the same time makes me laugh so much)

I have no idea how to tag this, I guess they're both switches?? Anyway I loved writing this!

nsfw / mdni / switch!coryo / switch!reader

“Now let's repeat your safe word!”

“Trust me we ain't gonna need it,” you giggled looking at Coryo, all serious and slightly annoyed at your laughter.

His wish to try out the dominant role was nothing but amusing to you, but he seemed to take it very seriously.

“Safe word!” He repeated in a stern voice.

“Coooryo, are we in the role already?” You kept bantering. Maybe ramping him up a bit would make him do better.

Coryo gave you “the look” and you finally replied.

“Alright, alright, it's “constitution”.”

“Constitution…” Coryo raised his eyebrow.

You nodded.

“Alright now kneel!” he said casually.

You just shook your head and stayed where you were. It turned out that being a brat was actually fun.

“Kneel!” Coryo sounded more impatient, but not enough commanding for your taste. Still you obeyed and got on your knees the cocky smirk never leaving your face.

“Open your mouth for me!”

“No, not like that,” you bursted into laughter again, making Coryo visibly frustrated.

“It has to be short and confident, without hesitation,” you were trying to describe the right tone, gesturing with your hands, but suddenly you were caught off guard by him grabbing your jaw and tilting your chin up.

“Open it up!” His voice now sounded low and raspy and you actually found that pretty hot.

You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue waiting for what was gonna happen next.

Coryo struggled a bit to pull his half-hard cock out of his pants and you couldn't help but let out a little laugh.

The boy shoved it into your face and started slapping your cheeks and lips. You quite enjoyed that, yet it wasn't convincing enough.

“Now take my cock!” He instructed.

“And what if I don't?” You gave him a bratty smile batting your eyelashes innocently. “What then?”

“No talking back!” Was the last thing you heard before Coryo slapped you across your cheek and that sting went straight to your pussy.

The boy was learning.

He hadn't told you not to touch yourself so your hand quickly dove under the waistband of your panties.

After rubbing your painful cheek you leaned forward and took his dick in your mouth starting to suck it in a lazy manner.

You noticed the frustration in Coryo's face. Something wasn't right here, but he wasn't quite sure what to do.

“Can you do it with more enthusiasm?” Coryo whined.

You let his cock out of your mouth and gave him a devilish smirk.

“Well you’ll have to make me then.”

Coryo put his hand on the back of your head and pushed himself deeper, but you knew damn well he was saving his strength and it was quite easy for you to wiggle out of his grip.

“Is that all you can do?” You started laughing again. “This is truly pathetic!”

You noticed Coryo clenching his jaw as his bright blue eyes went slightly darker.

“I'm gonna make you shut up,” he growled and grabbed your head aggressively pushing his cock all the way down your throat, so deep that your nose hit his pubic bone.

Eyes full of raw lust, he held you in place marveling at your cheeks turning red and your eyes welling up with tears as you were gagging and fighting for air.

Now that was something. And you were loving every second.

Feeling that you won't be able to hold on any longer, you grabbed onto his thighs, making him finally release your head. You had turned into a coughing drooling mess struggling to catch your breath. Being manhandled like this made your panties soak in wetness. You needed more of this.

You looked up at Coryo and his breath sped up seeing your teary eyes and swollen lips. You could see exactly how much it was turning him on.

He couldn't believe that you were still laughing though.

“Is that all you got? That's some amateur level shit,” you were taunting him on purpose knowing he would snap eventually. And he did.

“Is that so doll?” He cooed, but his intentions were pretty sinister.

“Maybe a little face fuck will do the trick?”

He grabbed your head and shoved his cock down your throat again but this time he started fucking your mouth at a relentless pace, holding you in place firmly and pushing his tip against the back at your throat with full intensity, again and again.

Your ears were ringing and your head got all floaty, you knew full well that your throat was gonna be sore for a few days at least. Tears were streaming down your face and saliva dripping down from the corners of your mouth, but your pussy was leaking from arousal as you kept rubbing yourself manically.

“Look at you, serving my cock so well, such a pretty little whore,” Coryo muttered praises and curse words, his thrusts becoming even harder as he was chasing his own release using your mouth as he pleased.

You closed your eyes and let yourself float in bliss, giving into a full submission, your fucked out mouth full of cock and your cunt throbbing with arousal.

Your eyes were flooded with tears and you weren't able to see much, all you could feel was your mouth being empty again and a sudden burst of warm cum spurting on your face. The white pearly liquid covered your cheeks and lips, it was dripping down your chin, some heavy white drops landing on your cleavage.

“Fuck, you look so delicious like this,” you heard Coryo speaking through your daze.

It took a hot minute for you to snap out of it. You raised your head and looked up at Coryo who was watching you curiously.

“So, how did I do?”

You looked back at him and let out a small laugh.

“Still much to learn, baby.”

“Can I take a picture of you?” He paused, realizing how weird that sounded. “Y-you just look so beautiful like this.”

“What are you going to do with it?” You chuckled.

“Just save it for the memory. Well at least until I become a serious politician. And… Maybe send it to Sejanus to show him what a good little cumslut you are.”

As weird as it was the thought kinda turned you and you let him grab his phone and snap a little incriminating pic.

“Cumslut, huh?” You leaned closer to Coryo and whispered into his ear.

“Guess who will have to clean up all this mess.”

The boy's eyes went wide as soon as he understood what you were hinting at. But it was already too late. You were laying on top of him, pinning his hands to the bed.

“Time for a little revanche.”

#thank you for the ask #coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #thg #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg tbosas #blurb #cts ask

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callsigns-haze · 6 months

Text

Hit you again, like a truck..

THIS IS REPOSTED FROM MY OLD BLOG!

A/n: This is the second post to my new blog so please be nice! I'm going to try to make this into a series so please show this story a bit of love and reblog!

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/n 'Haze' Mitchell

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Y/N has finally showed herself after seven years. The reuniting with her friend with benefits may have not been the best but the new confidence boost helped…

Based of the song: Lavender Haze by Taylor Swift

Warnings: Angst and cursing

“Bradshaw!” You yell through the hard deck as your eyes lay upon the familiar to aviator .

“Is that you, Haze?” Bradley calls out not believing that the other Mitchell would be back stateside or even at the perimeter of California, “This is how I find out you’re stateside, Haze?”

Bradley takes of his sunglasses laying a proper look at you as he tucks his glasses into his beloved Hawaiian shirt. “Yeah, I just thought I’d surprise you.”

You do a tiny run up on the three small steps at the deck, making you level with the floor the pool table is; where Bradley and unknown to you aviators are.

“Hmm.” Bending down, he engulfs you into a hug having to lean down a bit due to height difference .

He never thought he would see you again. For the last seven years you've been like a ghost. Text came in from you once for every couple months, maybe a call ever year or so and then you'd disappeared like some old haze.

"You know I think you've gotten shorter from the last time I saw you," he says still engulfing you, inhaling the familiar lavender scent, the sweet perfume you've always chose.

You lift your knee, putting force in the forward motion as it makes direct contact with Rooster’s groin.

He grunts, thinking that somehow the violence of short Mitchells has made itself upon you. Rooster bends, clutching his stomach with a pained expression. “I guess I surprised you twice than.”

Rooster squints in pain as he lift his look directly at you putting on the most unsuccessful smile, “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” you replies but quickly distract yourself by a following question that you ask. “Do you know if he's he—.”

Changing the song on the jukebox to the 86th number and making his way back to the group giving over a beer to Coyote, Jake gaze falls upon you.

“Haze,” he lets out, as he takes the cue out of Bobs hands before he could shoot. “As I live and breathe.

“Hangman,” You say back, looking at the man who feeling you have for are unsure, for the first time in seven years.

“You look…fairly alive.” Hangman lines up his cue with the ball, “Well, I am alive, Haze.” The two of you finally connect eyes, those green eyes as mesmerizing as you remembered, “I’m very alive, Haze. In fact, I really thought someone would have got ridden of you right now.”

All turn to Rooster in disbelief and that look that tells you to fill someone in. “So,” Coyote start, “What's brought the witch back to life?

“Call me a witch one more time, Javy, and I will strangle you with your own testicles ”

The balls clatter as Jake re-takes a shot hitting in the remaining ball.

“You've changed quite a bit, Haze. Last time we talked there was not that much confidence in you.”

Rooster rubs his stache with that ‘you can’t seriously bring this up again.’ “At least I don't lead anyone to an early grave.”

Low punch, grave deep for you.

“Well, look at you Lieutenant, you would've never made it this far without your daddy's and godfathers help,” Hangman steps closer, the distance between his face and yours barely exists.

“Mention my father Seresin and I mention yours.”; The next sentence that comes out of your mouth is solid cold but that doesn't stop you.

"And it's not Lieutenant anymore, Jakob, it's Commander Captain to be exact and the Commander Captain that will be flying with your team for the next couple weeks. So watch out Hangman. One wrong move and you're out."

Hangman really wanted to build up on your nerves and had no problem doing it, “First time I see you're not with your asshole and not running back to me, Mitchell, what happened? Daddy knocked some sense into you?” Jake licks his lip while smirking, “Now that I know that you're not in a grave yourself I might do the honors and put you there.”

“Watch it, Seresin,” Phoenix snapped at him, but got ignored by his act. She might fly with him and barely know you but that's beyond the point.

He's getting to arrogant even for himself and at this point it's just bullying. “I love this song.”

‘Slow ride.'

He smirks and walks back down to the bar.

“Well, he hasn’t changed,” you says with the lack of surprise in your tone, expecting worse than this.

“Nope,” Bradley agrees, hands in a fist still mad at what Jake said to you. “Sure hasn’t.”

Fanboy comes up to you and Rooster full shock of what just happened, “I don't know if we're on your side or not but the way you stood up to Bagman was just wow.”

He waves his hands in front of you trying to prove his point. Fanboy doesn't know you but surely is already impressed that he gets to work with you.

Phoenix puts her cue down, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “Y/n "Haze" Mitchell. The legend of the sky is finally back and hopefully can kick Bagman's ego down to the grave. This little lady is a legend and a god. The things that she does in the air are mental.”

Fanboy exhales, not expecting your second name to be Mitchell.

“Mitchell. As in Maverick kinda Mitchell?”

“Ughhhhh people still recognize me as that—yeah Maverick is my dad. And I'm not a legend Phoenix, I'm a psycho, nearly died last time.”

Rooster frowns, “What happened?” This is not the first time he heard such thing.

Hangman glances over to Rooster and the rest of you talking like he still cared, “Milo, McKenzie, Conor, Eammon, Jacklin, Marko, Nathan all got shot down. Only Marko, Nathan and Milo survived. We all got caught it a dead end.”

They all feel sympathy just aren't showing it in the same way.

“Shit, Haze, I'm so sorry,” Phoenix answers, the sympathy is the only thing she's showing.

“Bit of a while back but everything is okay now.,” You answer. It was a crap few months you're not gonna lie. Seeing and hearing your fellow pilots getting shot down or crashing is not a sight anyone wants to see but it happens and you learned how to deal with it.

So you were right, you know how to deal with it, “Now can you explain to me why you call Jake, Bagman?”

Hangman took in the information. He added up that all the people you have just named were in the 'Stricker Crew'. The Strickers' were established seven years back after the storm in mid May.

The strongest fighters were randomly called down to a mission, completely off-grid. He heard Mav talk about this but never expected the miny Maverick to be called down there herself especially the night of their last scandal.

Hangman makes his way back down to you, beer in hand and cue in the other. “Let's see if you still got it in you.” He puts out the hand he held the cue in but instead you take the beer.

He makes pure eye contact with you as you lift the bottle up to your lavender chap sticked lips taking a sip frow the nice cool beer and never drop the eye contact with him.

His eyes were the hue of the new spring growth, bright and soft all at once. There were flecks of strength, of the kind of green that comes only as summer advances.

And you remember they were never more beautiful than when he cried, when his gentleness flowed over his cheeks, nor when he became the cocky man you came to depend on, decorated with laughter lines. Yet the soul and the eyes are ageless, and to you, so was he.

You take the bottle away from your lips handing it back over to him “Cheap….. just like you,” you smirk as his one falls, “I'll see you bright and early on Monday, Jakob. Don't be late.”

And you leave, leaving him shocked just standing there with a cue and bottle in hand watching you walk away like all those years ago.

Fanboy just casually walks over patting Hangman on the shoulder, “Like I said, I don't know if we are on her side or not but she's wow.”

To Jake, you really were wow.

A/n: And this is the second post for Haze and Hangman! Please reblog this post and give them love! Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist and follow this blog since we're only getting started!

Tagging some friends:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@callsign-dexter

@rosiahills22

@horseslovers2016

@djs8891

@hookslove1592

@emma8895eb

@hardballoonlove

@kmc1989

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the-fiction-witch · 4 months

Text

The Magic Of Men

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Smut Discussions

Requested: Could you do a Jack Dawkins one where she has no experience and doesn't really know how men work (because it's 1850s and she isn't married lol) but she's curious? Up to you what you do with that :)

I felt insanely awkward about doing this, but... not like I had many other options. I headed up the stairwell of the hospital and up to the little room I knew well. I gave the door a tap, and soon enough his voice answered.

"Come in,"

So I held my breath and headed inside the little room, seeing the usual objects littered about and two figures, Fagin sat in the chair fiddling with something not sure what, and then Jack stood by his wardrobe changing his shirt. Immediately I blushed and looked away, "Hi,"

"Hi Y/n, Just a sec I'll be down." Jack smiled as he got a clean shirt on, "Sorry had to change we had a bloody nightmare of surgery. You ready to go?"

"Actually, I was thinking... Maybe we could stay here tonight?"

"uhhh right, Why?"

"Well given everything with Darius, I figured maybe we could just stay and play cards here tonight. I brought us some cookies to bet with?"

"Aww you're sweet, that's great actually I can't spend any money." He laughed, "Alright piss off Fagin."

"Ohh lovely, I see when I'm not wanted." Fagin complained getting up and shuffling to the door, "Bloody sweet talk to the man who raised you!"

"Out Fagin," he told him again,

Fagin then left leaving Jack and me alone,

"You alright?"

"Yeah sorry uhh long day is all..."

"Alright, well get comfy."

"Thank you," I smiled taking a seat setting my basket down and unpacking it,

"Ohh did you make pie!?"

"I did,"

"Can I have some?" he asked sheepishly

"Of course," I smiled cutting him some pie,

"Ummmm! you are an angel you know that."

I blushed but we started our card game as usual, we played for a good while the whole time I was eager to ask but I didn't want to just jump out the gate with things. But I knew I couldn't wait much longer.

"Jack?" I spoke up breaking the flow of our gentle conversation,

"Yeah?"

"Can I... Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he shrugged,

"Could you tell me, about- Men?"

He froze a moment his eyebrows lowered, his eyes looking at me questionably, "What about men?"

"...Everything,"

"Right..." he began, "why?"

"Well, It's just..." I began, "My mother is getting, insistent on me starting to court, starting to look into me getting married and I know so little about men, how they work, what they like, I have no idea and I'm very confused."

"Men are a mystery" He chuckled,

"I know, But I just want... some knowledge."

"All right."

"Really?"

"Yeah, can't leave you completely clueless." He smiled, "You're such an innocent little thing, the first man who realizes just how innocent and... naive you are, will take advantage of your lack of information." He explained,

"They will?"

"Ohh yeah, the first man figures out you don't know what you're doing there's no telling what he'll make you do." He chuckled, "But why are you asking me?"

"Becuase I trust you."

"Do you?" he shot me a look,

"I trust you enough."

"Thanks,"

"Also you know… you're a doctor I imagine you're able to explain it better than the average man”

"Good point, So? You wish to know the magic of men?’

“I do”

“Alright then… Well, how much do you know?"

“Well… I know on the wedding night the lady must lie on her back and open her legs for he husband. And then he will make babies.”

“...that's it?”

"more or less”

“Ohh my god- how does anyone expect you to know what you're doing with that, you sure you aren't told anything else?"

"that if I raise my skirt too high or too low men will be excited”

“...I mean, yeah that kinda is true.” He nodded, "There's more to it but on a basic level I guess... anything else?"

“Uhhh my mother said if you let a man put his baby goo in your mouth and swallow it you'll have babies growing in your tummy”

"…What!”

“If you let a man-”

“I heard you! I'm just fucking astonished!”

“Is that not true?"

“No! You can't get pregnant like that!”

“Ohh I see… why would my mother like to me?"

"I assume to stop you putting men in your mouth… she tell you anything else?”

“The female orgasm is a myth”

“WHAT! your mother is fucking nuts!"

"Is that not true?"

"No! I am very VERY sure about that!"

"Ohh..."

"Ohh you poor little thing..." He said,

"Why?"

"You need an education." He said, "So when a man and a woman love each other very much..."

"Yes?"

"They start to kiss, and cuddle, and tell each other how they feel. And then they may decide to be... Intimate."

"I see," I nodded very eager to learn,

"And yes when a man sees under a lady's dress he may get... excited." He smirked, "A woman's body is often very exciting for a man to look at, and if he gets excited enough he'll get hard."

"Hard?"

"His... you know."

"His what Jack?"

"you really are innocent aren't you," He chuckled, "Well a man has a cock. most of the time it's just soft and not really anything all that important but when a man gets excited his cock gets hard, It'll stand up and kinda make itself stiff."

"Ohh... Why?"

"It's all the blood rushing there and causing it to expand and stay stiff, so he can use it for sex."

"Ohh Okay, so it gets hard for sex?"

"Yeah, it gets hard when he's excited and aroused."

"Okay, then he makes baby goo?"

"Baby goo?"

"Yeah, he gets excited until baby goo comes out."

"... It's called Jizz. or ejaculate. but yeah it makes babies."

"Jizz. makes babies. But not in mouths?"

"No, only in your pussy."

"Pussy?"

"The ... hole between your legs y/n."

"Ohh my special place."

"Yeah, you lay on your back, or your side, or you can sit up too there's a lot of options but the main point is he puts his cock inside your pussy, and it feels amazing for both involved and yes you should get an orgasm you both should and when a man orgasms then yes he will Jizz and if it is inside of your pussy there is a RISK not one hundred per cent just a risk that you may get pregnant."

"Hu... Thank you, Jack,"

"You're welcome. See men aren't all that magic and mystical... we are pretty simple, to be honest."

"What about other than sex?"

"Other than sex? Well yeah if you put a man's cock in your mouth it will also give him an orgasm but you can't get pregnant,"

"Do women get orgasms other than sex?"

"Yeah, they can, a man can use his mouth, or his hands, or even women can do it themselves."

"That's possible?"

"Very possible."

"Can... men do it to themselves?"

"Yes."

"Hu... Then why do you need a wife at all?"

he looked at me and laughed, "Because it's not the same having sex and giving yourself an orgasm isn't the same feeling,"

"Ohhh..." I nodded, "That makes sense,"

"You alright now? Anything else you wanna know?"

"Uhhh... Kinda,"

"Go on then,"

"What does a cock look like?"

"Uhhhh are you serious?"

"I've never seen one before... I'm curious."

"Yeah, I don't exactly have pictures of dicks laying around y/n."

"This is a hospital if anywhere has pictures and diagrams of dicks it's here."

"No, I don't, sorry Y/n," he chuckled going to lay on his bed for a moment, "I'm rather tired after all that explaining" he yawned,

"Sorry Jack," I smiled sitting on his bed with him,

"It's fine, I'm happy to explain to you, at least now you're not so naive,"

"I guess now, I'm thankful to be less naive."

"Good, I'm glad I could help."

For a moment we just sat enjoying one another company as we often did, before I little spark of a whisper popped up in my brain, and I giggled.

"What?"

I smiled and held the skirt of my dress lifting it a little to show my leg all the way up to my knee, Jack's eyes met my skin and a smirk grew across his lips,

"what are you up to y/n?"

"Just curious."

"Curious?"

"Umm, I wanna see the magic of men."

"Do you know?"

"Mhm, so? Are you excited?"

"...A little." He smirked, "This what you want?" he asked sitting up and I nodded excitedly, "Alright Y/n, Come on I'll prove to you about the female orgasm" He smirked tugging me into the bed with him,

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas sangster #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #theartfuldogger #thearttfuldodger #the artful dodger

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liesmyth · 1 year

Text

Blood cancer, necromancy and physical ailments

This started as a reflection on the evergreen “but could John have healed Cytherea’s cancer?” and then it went off… somewhere else, namely necromancers being physically frail and what it means for the worldbuilding and thematically. Bear with me etc.

what do we know about the nature of Cytherea’s cancer?

Very little! We know it runs in the necromantic line of the Seventh, but we don’t actually know how house heirship is passed, so we don’t know if it only affects one / a few family lines or most of the House. Cytherea-as-Dulcie says that her family “wanted her to keep the genes going,” implying that the illness was rare outside her immediate family, but Dulcinea doesn’t seem to have been under the same pressure, from what little we know.

Another guess is that the Seventh hereditary cancer is tied to necromancy in some way, as it seems to only manifest in descendants who also exhibit necromantic attitude. If that’s the case, then it’s likely it is a strain of leukemia that manifested post-resurrection and didn’t exist before (like necromantic ability) and like necromancy, it can’t be studied properly – because the understanding of the illness barely evolved from Cytherea’s time to Dulcie.

[FOUR more bullet points under the cut]

why I don’t think John lied about not being able to heal Cytherea

A variety of reasons. The obvious one is that it would be pointless not to heal her, if he could. The Lyctors dismiss the theory that cancer makes a necromancer stronger (“Seventh House woo-woo,” cit. Augustine) and so does Palamedes, who studied it for years. I'm going to assume they're right. Then there are no benefits to John in keeping Cytherea ill, except watching her suffer, and this is deeply at odds with John’s entire shtick in which they’re all a happy family and he makes a point to personally serve everyone at dinner because he’s just some guy. John likes to think of himself as the good guy, even when he's being actively terrible, and there’s no way to spin ‘let someone live with cancer for millennia’ in a way that makes you look good to yourself.

Additionally: if he had lied, then it would have been with the knowledge that it would backfire horribly if it ever came out he had, and completely shatter for good the happy family act. Conversely, the Lyctors have had ten thousand years to consider their long list of grievances against John, and they all studied Cytherea's cancer to figure out how to help her when she joined them (per HtN) but don’t even seem to consider the possibility that John refused to help when he could have. Mercy, the ultimate anatomy savant, is so pissed off at John that she’s ready to kill him — I think if she had even vague suspicions it would have come out in that confrontation. The only reason it didn't, IMO, is because she knew how the illness worked better than we readers do and had reasons to confirm John's claims herself.

if John wasn’t able to heal Cytherea. Why? he’s God, etc

This is where I take a step back and look at the broader picture. Necromancers are frail. They are physically slight, have low endurance, and are physically weak. Judith is a decorated officer but she runs a 10 minutes km (a fast-paced walk) and Ianthe can barely hold up her arms to do her hair (probably an exaggeration by Corona, but not by much). These are also people who could kill someone at a distance with only moderate effort, but can’t turn that power inward to give their own bodies a boost. The same goes for the various reproductive issues we hear of in the series – Harrow’s parents, of course, but also Abigail and Magnus being unable to conceive even with all the resources of the Fifth.

It seems that necromancy can be turned against others – manipulating their bodies – with a lot more ease than it can be used to fix necromancers’ bodies, which have some level of ‘flawed by design’, probably related to the way their bodies process thanergy. There's no juicing up Judith’s lungs to make her run faster, and necromancy doesn’t make Abigail and Magnus's genes compatible for reproduction. IF the Seventh House cancer is tied to necromancy in some way, it seems plausible that it can’t be “suppressed” from the organism of a necromancer, because it’s just another facet of their abilities.

(That said, it all hinges on that big IF! My theory that it would make very little sense for John not to heal Cytherea if it was within his abilities IMO holds whether the cancer is tied to her power or not, but if it’s the second one then I can’t begin to guess why.)

the #THEME of it all

Look. I just think that “some things can't be fixed by necromancy if they are rooted in it” is pretty plausible as a worldbuilding detail (setting the limits of a magical system) and also it really resonates as a doylistic writing choice. Magic has a price, and so on. I just think it’s neat!

(And, again, I think it makes more sense as a framing for the characters’ actions, from how John likes to play the good guy to how Cytherea probably has some amount of control over the tumors in her body, post Lyctorhood, just as Lyctors have detailed control over every other cells in their organisms. There’s something about the way she decided to go on for millenia, “mostly cancer and a little bit woman” as a funeral monument to her lost humanity. I’m not eloquent enough to put it into words but I’m gonna link to these tags by @thewinterstale on this OP by @theriverbeyond. Big thoughts, big brains etc.)

IF cancer doesn’t make someone stronger, why do people think it does?

We know “thanergy boost at the moment of death” is a real thing. It is a leap that slowly dying for years = more power during your lifetime, but it’s not an unreasonable conclusion. What is odd is that we have multiple informed accounts that it doesn’t (Augustine, Palamedes) but the idea keeps being perpetuated.

(Ianthe seems to believe that it does, but fwiw this is not Ianthe’s area of study and I find it plausible that she’s just repeating something she has been told which, again, makes sense superficially)

Anyway. Cytherea knower @thewinterstale has suggested that maybe Cytherea herself is the reason why the Seventh House, to the present day, believes that cancer = power. She was incredibly talented despite the illness, so much that the Emperor summoned her specifically as the last disciple in his super-exclusive circle. And that was the last the Seventh House saw of her.

If the memory of Cytherea that lives on was that of an incredibly powerful necromancer, the miracle at Rhodes, cancer-ridden and so powerful… that’s enough fuel for a dangerous myth. Maybe, through the millennia, all the Seventh House hoped to achieve was to produce another Cytherea – suffering and all

#tlt thoughts #cytherea #seventh house #tlt theories #DEATH. DYING. ILLNESS. PRICE OF POWER #I JUST THINK IT'S NEAT #the locked tomb #tlt

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quinloki · 1 year

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Hello! Can we get Smoker, Crocodile, and Corazon with the kinks: smoking kink (like shotgunning and just the act of smoking during sex) corruption kink, and size kink! Thank you very much💝

ROSINANTE \lol/ OMG SOMEONE FINALLY ASKED ABOUT THE OTHER DONQUIXOTE <3 <3 <3

I have no issue writing about Doffy (he is a blorbo), but I was just thinking "I'd love for someone to ask about Rosi, and if I catch up and no one has, I'll ask for asks including him" - and then I got this -^_^-

(Also I've been compiling these, and we're at like 21k words xD )

Hmm.. let's do this by character. Oh I really like all these characters - I need to write some good Smoker and Corazon something at some point, they're just good characters. (Gods there is so much DILF vibe energy in this ask, I just need a second.)

Smoker:

Smoking Kink - FUCK Yes - Considering his devil fruit I think it's safe to say that there's just more Smoker can do when he's got a surplus of smoke to work with. Plus he knows you like the sound of his voice when he has cigars in his mouth. There's just something missing from it otherwise - until he takes the cigars out of his mouth and leans down low, speaking right into your ear in that low voice that seems impossibly smooth and commanding.

Unless you smoke on your own he won't shotgun you. But the scent of the cigars during sex aren't taking anything away from the experience, that's for sure.

Corruption Kink - I guess - I can see Smoker being willing to role-play corrupting you in someway, but I can't see him doing so legitimately. The vibe I get is that you would both be on similar pages when it came to how worldly you were (or weren't), and while there are several kinds of corruptions to choose from, I don't see Smoker being a V-card collector anymore than I can see him being the one teaching you about bdsm, or trying to get you to steal xD

I can see you both learning about kinky things together, but yeah. He's a little cinnamon-roll-y to me <3

Size Kink - Smoker isn't very-- *looks up his height*... short. He isn't very Short. Holy shit this man's 6'10" ?!?! Hells, I thought he was like 5'8"-5'9"... *ahem*. I'mma need a minute.

Haaaa - okay, Smoker is a Sure/Yes for size kink and I think he feels a little bad about it. People can't control their height, but he does enjoy being the bigger one in the relationship. Possibly because at his height it's hard for him to not be the bigger one, but if he met someone at his height or taller, he wouldn't just dismiss the idea of a relationship with them either. I mean, it would be nice to trade off who gets to be the big spoon.

That said, he does like being able to basically engulf you. From easily being over top you as you pant and squirm under him all the way to being able to cuddle you like you were little more than an over-sized teddy bear. (he's also got a weakness for tilting your chin up so he can kiss you, cause you always look flustered even if it's just for a split second).

Sir Crocodile:

Smoking Kink - FUCK Yes - Crocodile's cigars smell good. It's a scent that slips along your skin and soothes your nerves. It's a little citrus, warm spices, and almost a kind of hot sand smell. It's lazes in the room and no matter how much he smokes it's never overwhelming - if anything it's relaxing. (I'm not saying he's laced his cigars specifically to calm you, but I'm not not saying that either).

This man will shotgun you - after he's already got you used to his cigars, and probably has you enjoying one every now and then. He certainly smokes during sex, well, depending on the kind of sex. He's not risking burning you or setting something on fire, but if he's leaned back and letting you do the work, the air's certainly heavy with smoke.

Corruption Kink - Yes - He's not a good guy, and if you understand that from the beginning then you'll certainly get some level of respect for it. But he's more than happy to pull you into his world - whether you want to be a part of actively or not doesn't really matter to him. You don't have to become a functional part of whatever business venture is going on, but he's not going to keep things from you either. You'll sink into the sandy depths with him, but he'll keep you from drowning, so don't panic.

He is, to me, the one with the most experience in the relationship, so he'll guide you through any kink you didn't already have, while happily indulging almost any other kink you do have.

Size Kink - Sure - Crocodile is very middle ground for this. He does enjoy being larger than his partner, but that just might be because when you're as tall as he is, statistically people are going to be smaller than you. He's not against an equal or larger partner, size hardly matters in any capacity, but even less so in terms of power dynamics. He'll be in charge no matter who's bigger than who.

Plus, if he wants you to have to stretch a struggle to take him, there's several ways to make that happen regardless of whether you're bigger than him or not.

Rosinante -

Smoking Kink - No - Rosinante doesn't even like that he smokes - if for no other reason than the habit costs him a lot in replacement coats and clothes. But he's already half a nervous wreck about having a slip up in the midst of sex, he's not bringing in extra risks. The smell of those cigarettes do cling to him, and it's not unpleasant at least, so if you like the scent of him smoking you're at least not missing out on that.

Corruption Kink - Oh god you have no idea - Something about nurture vs nature, but he is a Donquixote. He wants to own you, pull you into every kink he loves and make you irrevocably his. The biggest difference between him and his brother, is that he does want your permission to do these things to you. In every aspect that he can be your first he wants to be it - no matter what it is, no matter what you've already done, he's not going to turn you away if you've already been with someone, but he'll struggle to hold himself back if you haven't.

He wants to mark you and mess you up, behind closed doors, in sessions, without shattering who you are. It's a fine line, but he's been tight-rope walking his whole life, so he's good at it.

Size Kink - FUCK Yes - He wants to be the little spoon so bad. Coming at an impressive 9'7.5" though, he's uh... he's maybe not going to get that chance unless he can come across someone who has a devil fruit power that can change his size. Or hey, if you're tall enough (OP-sona go, go!) then you can certainly fill that desire for him.

All that said, he's not going to cast you aside if you're shorter/smaller than he is. The kink only rates that high because he's resigned himself to it never being fulfilled quite the way he'd like, and he'd probably cry if it happened.

Kinky One Piece Head Canon

#kinky one piece head canon #donquixote rosinante #rosinante x reader #x reader #smoker one piece #smoker x reader #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader

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wandringaesthetic · 7 months

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OVERTHINKING 30 SECONDS OF ALUCARD CASTLEVANIA:

I deliberately spoiled myself for whether he would be showing up before I started watching because I didn't want to disappoint myself if he didn't. So I saw this screenshot out of context and was like "no, put him back." He looks a bit too smooth and cherubic. Doll-like and a bit too feminine.

In context it's not so bad, in profile the change isn't so drastic and I think it's more that they have him exceedingly pale and that flattens out all of his shading than that they changed his facial shape much. Some of this is also just the slight difference in art style. Lines are lighter and more sketchy here and we don't have as much dark dark shading.

I expected that he would probably have white/gray hair a la Symphony of the Night and he does. A lot of the Ayame Kojima artwork he looks more pale blond but I most people playing the game interpret that sprite as having gray or white hair.

Also like Symphony of the Night, he's got a cravat. All laced up to the chin versus loose, low necked shirt or walking shirtless scene in Series 1

I always guessed that they had his first appearance like this to confirm beyond a doubt that the long haired pretty person was male so foreign language markets wouldn't be tempted to change his gender. And also I guess let's show off that scar.

ANYWAY. I always interpreted Alucard's silvery SotN hair as an expression of age/weariness/grief. He's canonically been taking a dirt nap for a while, right? An expression of the fact (?) that he hasn't been feeding. Homeboy is anemic.

By the way, it's never really made clear in Castlevania the animation whether Alucard needs to drink blood. I always assumed that he did at least sometimes. In part, because of this:

He has a confidence here that says to me that this is not the first time he has lunged after someone's throat.

Also it looks like the coffin apparatus he rises out of when he's introduced is feeding him blood somehow.

[He also eats food obviously, from his foraging and cooking montages in S3. my fanon interpretation of this is that he needs some of both but not as much blood as a full vampire would need and not as much food as a full human would need. He can survive a long time (probably a very very long time) without either but he'd suffer for it]

Some Castlevania vampires have more inhuman features than others. I'm speculating on this being more true the more old/powerful the vampire. Drolta's black sclera, Dracula's ridiculous height, Olrox's glowing eyes, etc. So the white/silver hair (and the 'is he glowing or is he REALLY white' complexion) might be an expression of Alucard aging and coming into his powers. Because a lot of our Castlevastle vampires are paper white but not all.

Him being laced to the chin versus tits out implies a more closed personality. Maturity, perhaps. Less emotional and sexual availability.

(In the first season he just woke up so you can't blame him for not wearing a shirt. In season 4 the shirtlessness is a Choice.)

I would say "please, someone fuck this man" but we all know how that went.

IIRC, in games canon he went immediately to sleep after Castlevania III and then didn't wake up until Symphony of the Night. This implies some self hatred and maybe depression. Feeling like you're something that shouldn't exist but being unable to easily self terminate and/or sticking around just in case you need to fight a monster worse than you.

Animated Alucard doesn't seem to have that level of self hatred. In series 1, he seems to identify more as a vampire than as a human (his comment about being less than excited about the Belmont hold because it's a museum dedicated to the extermination of his people) and doesn't seem to think that existing as a vampire is wrong in and of itself. In fact he seems to have some pride in vampires as preservers of knowledge even after the events of season 2. ALSO, his relationship with his father seems more positive in the animation than in the games. In the animation, he loves and respects his father up until the point he decides to exterminate all humans. In the games it seems like that father son relationship was more fraught and possibly more distant.

HOWEVER. If his kill count really is in the thousands, that makes me believe that not only has he been awake most of the last 300 years, he's spent most of that time killing vampires and that he may have started killing vampires generally rather than just those making problems. Even if he hasn't come to the conclusion of "all vampires must die and then when I have finished my grim work I shall die too" if he has been hunting and killing vampires for SO LONG he has to have started seeing them, and the parts of himself that are like them, as the problem.

I don't love that kind of moral absolutism, but. In Castlevania we have (correct me if I'm wrong) two morally ambiguous vampires (Dracula and Olrox) and the rest are evil. Castlevania the animation seems to not come down on the side that vampires are soulless monsters, but the overwhelming majority are evil. I think it would go against the series core to argue that vampires aren't people or can't be good people, or that you get one choice and that determines your whole life and impact on the world going forward (how Christian of you--also, a lot of them didn't get a choice!) But the fact remains that vampires have a strong incentive to view human beings as not really being people.

Alucard MIGHT be choosing to abstain from blood and that MIGHT be why he's so pale he glows. Drink your juice, Alucard. Take care of yourself.

I don't love the idea of Alucard being so self hating because I love him and I want what's best for him, but I have to admit that this kind of self hatred is what makes Symphony of the Night Alucard and most notable dhampir characters compelling. A monster fighting worse monsters. A cursed, bastard existence that nonetheless gives you great power. Choosing to do good even though you yourself are damned. Being constantly on the verge of a fall, of awful temptation, of becoming the thing you hunt. Fighting for a world that has no place for you in it.

LASTLY. As a Trephacard shipper. In animation canon he probably AT LEAST stayed awake for more or less a human lifetime. With Sypha and Trevor, in whatever capacity. Undeniably, he loved them. But there are ways that might contribute to the self hatred. It would have distanced him from the vampire part of his identity. I keep thinking of the fact that Trevor corrects Alucard ONCE when he refers to Dracula as "my father" and Alucard refers to him as "Dracula" for the rest of the series. I keep thinking about him staring at the cabinet of vampire skulls in the Belmont hold and Trevor and Sypha both seeming to not really notice. It would be tempting to minimize or fight against that part of his identity. He might feel like he has no place with them if he doesn't.

(AND THAT'S NOT EVEN GETTING INTO THE FACT THAT DRAC IS ALIVE NOW. I have no idea how they're going to choose to deal with that, but I have trouble imagining Alucard and Dracula having a positive relationship going forward. That might even contribute to Alucard feeling like he had to choose.)

#Castlevania #Castlevania nocturne #alucard #alucard castlevania #castlevania nocturne spoilers #here it is here's The Post

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whereonceiwasfire · 1 month

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I saw @theshadowrealmitself's post the other day about what if a supervillain outed their secret identity becuase they infodumped to the cashier (who happens to be the hero) and you know I had to do a DP oneshot for it. It's a few different kinds of AU, so you just have to roll with me here.

Without further ado:

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT (EXCEPT WHEN THEY'RE AN EGOMANIACAL SUPERVILLAIN)

Automatic doors slide apart with a woosh as Danny bursts through the entrance of Hattie's Haunted Hardware Emporium, unzipped backpack barely caught in the crook of his elbow, one arm stuffed through the armhole of the gaudy yellow vest of his uniform.

He's out of breath as he scrambles past the customer service desk, gives a frantic, “I'm here, I'm here!” to the startled employee behind the computer as hops the counter. He’s sprinting past stacked boxes of returns for the door with a STAFF ONLY sign slapped askew across the chipping green paint when a voice stops him in his tracks.

“Danny Fenton.” The words drip cool disapproval, and Danny's shoulders immediately hunch toward his ears, his fingers uncurling from around the door handle.

So close.

“Y-yes?” He slowly turns around, his expression sheepish as he comes to face Hattie herself.

She stands, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed, a MANAGER tag pinned to the chest of her tucked in shirt. The polo is the same hideous yellow as Danny's vest but has the Hattie's Hardware logo—a floating hammer surrounded by a ghostly glow—sewn onto the breast pocket. A funny gag, no doubt, when the place decided to open in the heart of haunted AF Amity Park. Less funny, probably, now that the store room is in disarray every other day because some low-level specter keeps casting stock haphazardly about and flinging empty boxes everywhere.

“You're late,” manager Hattie says, expression pinching. “Again.”

“Aha. Yeah. About that.” Danny scrubs the back of his neck with a palm, teeth bared on something that's more a grimace than a smile. “The bus was behind schedule?”

She doesn't look particularly like she believes him, which is entirely valid, since it's a bald-faced lie. But what is he supposed to say? That he got sidetracked by his new archnemesis, that freaking Plasmius ghost, because the guy somehow managed to compel an entire doggie daycare to do his bidding? What that crackpot needed a canine army for, Danny didn't even want to know, but he wasn't about to just let it go down. Stopping ghosts is kind of his whole shtick as town hero, after all.

He’s just lucky the whole thing didn’t take that long—once Danny managed to snap his fluffy foes out of their trance, they kind of took care of Plasmius for him. Guess they weren't too happy about being mind controlled. Go figure.

But again, Danny can’t exactly just come out and tell his manager, well, any of this. As far as everyone knows, Danny Fenton is a very normal, very human kid—one who maybe isn’t great at the whole being punctual thing and has a penchant for running to the bathroom when ghosts show up—but otherwise exhibits no symptoms of being undead. He’s hoping to keep it that way.

Manager Hattie’s eyes narrow, as if she can tell what he’s thinking, but she just gives a curt jerk of her chin in the direction of the staff room.

“Don’t let it happen again,” she says, and he gives an overzealous nod of assent as he lets out the breath trapped in his chest.

“You got it, boss!” he says, giving her a two-fingered salute and throwing himself into the back before she can change her mind.

***

“That’ll be eight twenty-two. How will you be paying for that?” It comes out a bored drawl as Danny shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“It’ll be cash—just—give me a sec. I know I had change in here somewhere.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Danny crosses his arms over the chest of his garish vest and tips his gaze toward the industrial ceiling, trying to find literally anywhere to look so he’s not the overly intense cashier staring at the woman across the counter as she rummages through her oversized, bubblegum purse for a couple of nickels.

He hadn’t even wanted to get a job—staying on top of school, protecting the town from ghosts, and keeping his secret identity from everyone in his life was enough of a struggle, nevermind trying to fit his weekend sentences at Hattie’s Hardware into the mix. But turns out if you break your phone (in a ghost fight), lose a couple of backpacks (after dumping them in an alley so you can go stop a bank robbery), mysteriously misplace articles of clothing (AKA, throw them away because ectoplasm apparently doesn’t come out in the wash), or otherwise ask your parents to replace your crap enough times without a decent explanation, they’ll stop paying for it.

So, as much as he’d love to not be watching stacks of nickels, pennies, and dimes grow on his counter—the bottle-blonde slapping each coin down with a decisive clack before thrusting her arm back into the depths of her bag—he really can’t get fired. Not only does he desperately need a new pair of shoes after stepping in a suspicious puddle Cujo left behind (please just let it have been radioactive drool), but he has to prove to his parents that he’s responsible, even if he’s going through a bit of a “destructive phase” with his belongings.

“Eight twenty-two!” the woman declares proudly, hiking her purse up onto her shoulder and beaming down at the skyscraper diorama of coins piled up on his counter. “I told you I had change.”

“Yes. You did,” Danny says with a defeated breath, scooping the first stack of nickels into his hand, and spreading them out across his palm.

Five, ten, fifteen…

“It’s eight twenty-two. Trust me.”

“Sorry, policy. I have to double check,” Danny says with his best apologetic grimace before turning his gaze back down to the coins in his hand.

Five, ten, fifteen…

“Well, that’s kind of unfair, don’t you think? Isn’t the customer always right?”

“Right, of course.”

Twenty, twenty-five, thirty…

“This is a bad look. It makes it feel like you don’t trust your clientele.”

Danny gives a half-hearted shrug, not lifting his eyes from the coins. “Sorry. Not my policy.”

Thirty-five, forty, forty-five…

“Well, I never.”

Danny makes the mistake of looking up as the woman tsks, gripping the strap of her bag and giving him a scandalized glower.

“Sorry,” he says again, shoulders slumping as he lets out a sigh, his gaze falling back to the mess of nickels in his hand.

Five, ten, fifteen…

***

Danny’s fellow cashier heads up for their lunch during the mid-afternoon lull, leaving Danny up front alone, standing at his till, pretending to be busy in case Hattie wanders past. He types random SKU numbers into the computer to see if it’ll bring up anything, he flips through the binder of faded lumber codes, he sprays his counter down with a bottle of something that smells like death and wipes it away with paper towels that come away gray with grime, he sorts the air fresheners that hang on a display beside his counter. And after all that is done, he’s managed to kill about seven minutes.

It’s almost a relief when a customer finally wanders up to his till. Almost.

The man wordlessly plops a length of cord, a roll of duct tape, and a box of garbage bags down on the counter—doesn’t even bother to glance up at Danny, just rolls up the cuff of his dark suit jacket and checks his watch as though the point five seconds he’s been waiting is already too long.

Danny manages to plaster on his best customer-service smile, hoping his eyes don’t give away the “not this asshole again” that he’s thinking.

Nearly once a week, buddy here shows up—way overdressed, with his smarmy ponytail and his suit—acts put out that he has to breathe the same air as the rest of Amity Park’s peons, then proceeds to purchase some of the sketchiest shit Hattie’s Hardware has to offer. Danny’s always left wondering if he should be calling the police instead of ringing up the serial killer’s checklist of supplies on his counter.

But, honestly, he does not get paid enough to keep tabs on Hannibal Lector over there, so he lets it slide.

“Find everything you were looking for today?” Danny asks as he tips the garbage bags on their side and scans the code on the bottom with a beep.

The man gives the vaguest grunt of acknowledgement, and just before his sleeve falls back in place over the face of his Rolex, Danny notices the fresh scratches marking the man’s pale forearm.

His brow furrows, but instead of prying, he just plucks up the duct tape and cracks a friendly joke as he twists the roll to find the barcode. “Already got the shovel and axe at home, hunh? Good for you.”

The beep is the only thing to split the silence, and when Danny glances up, it’s to find the man’s dark gaze pinned on him, lips pursed on a thin line. He is very much not laughing.

“Just ah—a joke.” Danny blanches as he gestures weakly at the items on the counter. “Because uhm. You know. If you had a shovel and axe, this would look kind of like you were, ah…”

“I get it,” the man answers frostily.

“Okay,” Danny answers, chastened as he drops his head and picks up the rope.

Immediately, he can tell Sketchy McBillionaire completely ignored the sign in the hardware aisle asking customers to get an employee’s assistance with the custom lengths of cord—there’s absolutely no SKU or length written anywhere, but Danny makes a show of turning the rope in his hand anyway.

“Shoot. It looks like your label must have fallen off?” he says, doing his very best not to sound too accusatory, just in case the guy really isn’t above murder.

“I’m sorry?” the man asks pointedly, brow arching, and it is so very clearly not an apology.

“Uhm. Well. Since you grabbed a custom length of rope instead of a pre-measured spool, there should be a tag on here somewhere. I need that to ring you up,” Danny tries, gesturing uselessly at the cord.

“Are you serious?” the man asks, teeth gritting. “This is just what I need right now.”

“I can, uh, page someone from hardware to get us the number?”

“No need. I’ll go get a pre-measure spool.” The words drip with derision, as if this is somehow Danny’s fault, as the man snaps up the rope and twists on his heel.

“Actually—” Danny cuts in, withering under the man’s icy gaze as he snaps his head back around. Sheepishly, he continues, “Once the length has been cut, we can’t really keep it…”

The man’s shoulders heave with a deep breath, his grip curling tight around the cord between his fingers.

“Fine,” he snaps, tossing the looped rope back onto the counter with a thud. “But make it quick. I’ve already been significantly delayed today.”

Danny gives a curt nod, picking up the receiver beside his register and paging for a hardware employee, his crackly, amplified voice sounding weak as it reverberates through the store. Which is so stupid. He’s a literal superhero—can punch a ghost three ways into next Thursday—so why is he cowed by some guy strutting around the hardware store in a suit?

Maybe because he knows punching this dude isn't an option unless he wants to get fired.

Ugh, why do bad things always happen to him?

Danny tries to play nice—determining not to piss the guy off or lose his job—and schools his features into an affable smile.

“It’ll just be a couple minutes,” he says.

The man gives a tight “hmmm,” crossing his arms over his chest, brows dropped low over cold blue eyes.

As the silence stretches between them, Danny awkwardly drumming his fingers against the metal till top, the urge to claw out of his skin grows unbearable. Against all better judgment, he finally blurts, “how’s your day going so far?”

“You want to know how my day is going?” The man’s tone drips vitriol, teeth bared as he steps in closer to the till. There’s something hysteric in the twist of the words as he repeats himself. “You want to know how my day is going?”

Danny tries to backpedal, jerkily shakes his head no, but it’s too late. The man gives a laugh somewhere just left of unhinged (why does it almost sound familiar?) and is off on a tangent before Danny can stop him.

“My day started with a very unwelcome intrusion, weeks of hard work thrown out the window because of some insolent boy and his need to stick his nose in where it doesn’t belong. My day found me bitter and behind schedule, interrupted at a crucial moment because someone has decided to treat my work like some blasted video game. My day”—the man’s eyes dart to the nametag on Danny’s vest, heedless of the way he’s stiffened, heart beating hard in his throat—“Daniel, has left me thwarted, again, an extension of a dismal several months in this wretched town, a string of one disappointment after another. And now I’m delayed once more, stuck waiting here with you, for someone to perform a menial task on my behalf since you can’t identify a length of rope. So tell me, boy. How do you think my day has been going?”

It’s how he spits the word boy, the cadence of the diatribe, the implication behind the words.

Danny just stares at the man, wide-eyed, any kind of response at all sticking in his throat as his palms brace against the back of the till.

It's then the employee from hardware comes bounding over, her cheery, freckled face split on a smile, oblivious to the weighted silence. “How can I help y'all?”

“I need a price on this.” The man practically snarls the words, snatching the cord and thrusting it at Poppy or Penny or…Genevieve?

Crap. Danny has got to get better at remembering his coworkers’ names.

“O-oh,” she stammers.

“The SKU actually,” Danny manages, and her expression softens with relief—that that’s all he needs, that she doesn't have to put up with this nightmare of a man before them.

She pulls free a small notebook from a pocket in her ugly vest. Thwipping through the pages, she drops a glance to the rope in her hands, flips a little further, then reads off some digits from her hand-scrawled notes. Danny taps them in obediently as Poppy/Penny/Genevieve turns the rope forward and back.

“Probably about twelve feet,” she guesstimates.

“Awesome, thank you,” Danny says, the price coming up on screen as he taps in a one-two and thumbs enter.

The man has barely moved, his expression all hard, sharp, unimpressed lines as he stands back and watches them with crossed arms. Poppy/Penny/Genevieve flickers a glance in his direction, then away.

“Noproblemhereyougotalktoyoulater,” she says, the sentence coming out in one hurried breath as she drops the cord on Danny's counter and bolts.

With her gone, it's just Danny, the silver-haired man, and the suffocating tension between them once again.

Danny knows he should focus on getting the purchase rung through and getting the guy out of here, but can't help the beat too long he stares at the man.

He's about the right height, the same goatee, the graying stripe parting his long hair.

“I don’t have all day.”

“Right!” Danny starts, shifting his attention back to his till’s screen, his pulse fluttering in his chest. Could it be? “Uhm. That comes to—”

“Yes, yes, it’ll be on credit,” the man interrupts, thrusting a black card at him.

Danny catches the card against his chest, holds it there as he mashes the man’s total into the debit machine. Before swiping the card, he turns a glance down to the plastic in his hand, his eyes roving past the long string of numbers and the expiration date to find the raised silver lettering beneath.

Vlad Masters.

His gaze lifts, and he finds the man—Vlad—watching him impatiently. Danny jerks his eyes away as he swipes the card, hands it back, places the printed receipt on the counter to be signed.

Vlad huffs—doesn't say a word as he fishes a pen from his inside pocket and scrawls a quick, jagged signature.

The arch of his brow, the condescending weight of his gaze, the impatient snap of his movements...

As the man gathers up his supplies, scowling, and pushes through the exit, Danny picks up the merchant copy of the receipt left on his counter. His gaze fixes on the V. Masters on the till paper, his lips twisted on a frown.

He doesn't know how it's possible, but he thinks that man—Vlad Masters—is his archrival.

Which means…Plasmius is a half-ghost?

#danny phantom #dp #phan phic #danny phantom fanfic #danny fenton #vlad masters #AU #no one knows AU #sorry got carried away vamping #my hate letter to working retail

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maxislvt · 1 year

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Low Blows

Summary: After what happened between you and Carol, Wanda makes a plan to help you cheer up. Though she denies

Warnings: Smut, vaginal fingering, shitty relationships, sorry to the vision enjoyers

A/N: I'm very sorry to those who were interested in this series only to watch it flop and die in the span of a month! I do plan to release the next chapter either towards the end of March or early next month! Hopefully I won't be dog tired and then forget again

Series Masterlist

Wanda had always been bad at hiding things from people. Her parents had raised her to be as honest as she possibly could be. That meant if she did have to lie Pietro was always the one covering for her, but now Pietro was back home in New York City playing PaRappa The Rapper and trying to beatbox for his YouTube subscribers. Never would Wanda have thought that the absence of her brother would lead to her getting into almost cartoonish levels of trouble.

A heavy sigh fell from her lips as she sat down in the confession chair. The last time she was here they asked her how she felt about Carol after the situation with the shack of secrets. Now they were expecting her to explain her recent purchases and the huge box of beach toys.

"I just want to get Y/N out of the house for a few hours…" The confidence in her plan dwindled as the crew raised their eyebrows in suspicion. "Okay fine, an hour…at least a few minutes! I just don't want them to sit there and rot away in their sadness. That's just not them." Wanda pulled out a bag of sand molds and grinned. "I found this set of molds at the store yesterday. They were overpriced, but they had this cute little zebra one so I couldn't pass it up!"

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

The house had been pretty tense after what happened between you and Carol. Everyone avoided Carol like the plague and almost all attempts to get you out of the bed and back into the real world failed. Not even Monica and Mr. Strips could get out into the light.

Wanda had originally discouraged any attempts to force you to talk about what happened in the Shack of Secrets. You needed space and the others had to learn to respect that. So Wanda decided to take up your chores and cook for everyone while you come to terms with everything. It wasn't easy, but your comfort was more important to her

But when days turned into nearly a week, Wanda had no choice but to intervene. With a little help from Monica, she hatched a plan. First, she needed to make breakfast. blueberry jelly and marshmallow fluff toast with bananas for a face, a bowl of fruit, sausage, eggs, and pancakes. She made a little extra with the hope that you'd share, or at least make up for the lack of a full meal.

Wanda knocked on your bedroom door. "Hey, buttercup. I know you're not feeling all that well but I made you breakfast." She leaned against the door. "We don't have to talk about…that, but I just wanna check in on you." A frustrated groan could be heard from the other side of the door. For a moment, she considered giving up and going back downstairs. "Okay. How about if I can guess what you're wearing, you have to let me in and eat breakfast."

You frowned. That was such an odd bet to make, but it softened your heart a bit to see that she was trying. "Okay, but you're probably gonna get it wrong." You snuggled into the bed. Another sad nap waiting for you at the end of the conversation.

"Is it my off-white and purple NYU hoodie and the black Van Cortlandt shorts you swore were tacky and overpriced?"

You let out a defeated groan and got up to open the door. "You're such a cheater," You grumbled before grabbing one of the plates one had balanced in her arm. "How'd you even get this up here without spilling?" With your free hand, you moved the comforter over so you could eat without getting crumbs and jelly on it.

Since you were too busy crying and wallowing in regret, your room had become a mess. Dirty clothes and clean laundry just sat in piles with nothing to tell them apart, your incense holder had gone uncleaned and unused, and your bedside trash can was nearly overflowing with snack wrappers and tissues.

"And you're a clothes thief," Wanda said affectionately before kissing your cheek. She sat the remaining plates down on the bed and then snuggled up beside you. "I just took a bunch of extra slow steps, I spent like three minutes getting upstairs. " She excitedly grabbed the toast off the plate and presented it to you. "Look, I made Mr. Strips! He's so cute. "

You leaned forward and let Wanda feed you. It wasn't until you finished chewing the piece that you realized what had happened. Wanda didn't give you a chance to apologize. She forced you to take another bite before you could say anything. "Oh, is this blueberry jam? I love that stuff!"

Wanda affectionately wiped the corners of your mouth before kissing your cheek. "I was gonna take all the credit for it, but Monica did help me figure out some of the stuff you liked." Wanda continued to feed you. She found more pride in it than she expected. The last few times Wanda had seen you, you just looked miserable. She hated it. Now, you were relaxed and happy again. Wanda would do anything to protect that happiness.

Once you finished eating, Wanda stacked the plates on your nightstand. "Hey, I found a really nice spot on the beach the other day and I was wondering if you'd like to go." Her smile faded as your face began to shift into one of uncertainty. One of her hands reached out to hold one of yours. It felt right. Your skin was soft like it was made for her to spend hours kissing. Wanda probably would if you let her. "I just want you to get out…an hour?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"Forty-five minutes from the second we get there."

"I'll do thirty minutes from the second we leave the house."

"Fifty-five and I get to make dinner just for us."

You let out a defeated sigh. Arguing with Wanda was impossible. "Fine, an hour but you're not cooking dinner…That's still my job."

Wanda let out an uncertain hum before kissing your cheek. "We'll see how our date goes. Now shower up and put on that swimsuit, make sure it's the cute little Cabana set with the flowers on it. You look cute in it." She gave you a playful spank on the butt before collecting the plates and silverware.

A blush spread across your face. Being the center of Wanda's attention felt so good. She always knew just how to make you. "Wait, what do you mean 'We'll see'? Come here!" You turned around to face Wanda, but she had already left your room and made her way downstairs. Even though you were apprehensive about facing everyone again, the idea of Wanda worrying about you made your heart melt. You wondered what she had planned for you.

While you were waiting, someone knocked at your door.

It was Carol. Her mere presence made you uncomfortable. She stood tall and commanding. A couple of months ago, you would've found it attractive. Now it just made you dread whatever she was about to say. Carol raised her eyebrows expectantly and sighed when you did little to acknowledge her. Then she sighed. She made you feel ashamed without even saying a word. "Look-"

"Are you ready to go, baby?" Wanda asked just before Carol could finish speaking. She extended her hand out for you to hold. Wanda could feel the daggers Carol was staring into her soul, but they meant nothing. All Wanda cared about was you and your happiness. A smile brighter than a thousand suns spread across her face as you slowly stepped forward and grabbed her hand. "You look so handsome in your little sweet swimsuit," Wanda cooed as she guided you down the stairs.

You giggled. "You told me to wear it." Neither her proud smirk nor possessive grip was lost on you. Jealousy and possessiveness usually weren't things you enjoyed. But you were more than willing to make an exception for Wanda.

"Well, you're adorably obedient for wearing it," Wanda whispered before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "Now come on, I spent all this money on beach toys and we have to use them at least once." The walk to the beach was quick. Wanda wasn't going to risk anyone else intervening in your adventure. She whisked you out the door and down the shore without any interruptions.

After a couple of minutes, Wanda brought you to a cave with nothing but a blanket and another basket.

"Is this some crime of passion set up? If so, this isn't the best place to do it!"

Wanda simply rolled her eyes and pushed you towards the blanket. "Monica was right. You do read too many murder mysteries. Go play!" She sat down next to you and began pulling out the little molds, shovels, and buckets she bought earlier. "I got one of Mr.Strips!" She placed the tiny sand mold into your hands and smiled. "I wrote your name on it so no one can steal it."

You smiled and gave the mold a small kiss. "Well, I'll make sure to take good care of it."

The rest of the date was spent in comfortable silence. Wanda would walk back and forth between the cave and the shore with buckets full of water so you could build your castle without worry. When the buckets weren't sandy and in need of a refill. Eventually, your sandcastle had gotten too complicated for Wanda to help so she decided to sit back and watch you build instead. And when you finished your castle, you snuggled up next to her.

"I'm proud of you. It's not always easy doing what's best for yourself," She whispered.

"Are you proud of me for prioritizing myself or are you just happy you're the better option?" You giggled.

"I don't think those things contradict each other."

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

"I don't even really like Zebras all that much," You confessed the very second the cameras started rolling. "I only keep Mr. Strips because Monica bought him for me as an apology for our kindergarten divorce." You jiggled the bracelet on your wrist and showed it to the crew. "This is like the ninth piece of zebra-related jewelry she's given me and I don't have the guts to tell her…Anyway, what were you guys gonna ask me?"

"So, how was the date?"

"It was nice, but I don't think it was a date. I mean I would've loved for it to be one, but I don't wanna put any labels on anything!" For the sake of the footage, you opted not to say anything about the knowing looks the crew shared. "Okay fine! I like Wanda a lot but I'm too shy to make any moves…I don't wanna scare her off." You slouched in your arms like a petulant child. "I just don't wanna rush anything..leave me alone."

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

If you learned anything from being on a reality TV show in the past few weeks, it's that time moves fast. One day, Maria and Natasha were getting close again then the next they didn't even want to be in the same room as each other. Time moved even faster when you weren't directly involved with whatever drama plagued the house for the day. You were known to break up fights or stand up for some of the more soft-spoken cast members, but most of the issues in the house seemed to be above you. There were even times when you slept through the introductions of new people.

"Why do you care so much? You're more in love with them than you ever were with me!"

This is to say you had no idea what Vision and Wanda were arguing about. They had been called down to that dreaded shack, that much you could figure out.

"I care because I wasted two years of my life with you! I don't love you know but I'm allowed to be upset that I wasted time with some half-assed loser that got with me over a dare!"

Oh. Okay, things were much worse than you thought.

"Okay," You shouted to silence both of them. "Why don't you two go to your rooms for a bit before talking about this? That stupid shack is designed to piss you off and start drama, just take a break!"

Wanda took a deep breath. Her expectations for her ex were already in the dirt. Why was she shocked Vision had disappointed her yet again? "You're right. I'm not letting myself get worked up over this anymore. I'm going to my room." Before you could praise her maturity, she grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs.

Had you been thinking with your brain, you would've voiced your concerns about leaving Vision alone when he was just as upset as Wanda. But since you were thinking with your heart, you didn't bother looking back to check if he was okay. Your heart only cared about Wanda. It soared when you were tossed into the bed and Wanda possessively snuggled into you. "Baby, what…what happened?"

She huffed out and buried her face into your neck "Don't worry about it, alright? Let's just forget about him for a sec." Wanda littered kisses along the side of your neck. They continued upwards until she reached your jaw, then she started leaving heavier marks. "Where's my needy little baby, hm? It's been so long since I've touched you, I bet you're just aching for me to touch you." When she finally graces your lips with a kiss, it was greedy. Her tongue slipped into your mouth and stole your breath without a second thought. Wanda didn't let up until the both of you were in desperate need of air.

And despite the buzzing underneath your skin and throbbing between your legs, you were still worried about Wanda. You put your hand on Wanda's chest to stop her from distracting you again. "I- You…you gotta talk stuff out first," You stuttered out. You rubbed your thighs together to ease the heat, but Wanda was quick to spread them apart.

Your desperate whining was music to Wanda's ears. "You heard it already. Now, why don't you lay back and let me fuck you?" Her frustration was starting to slip through the cracks. She squeezed your thighs, but they didn't move an inch before getting your permission. "I bet you're so wet and just waiting for me to stretch your little hole out."

You were trying so hard to focus. But that's hard to do with Wanda staring down at you like you were fresh meat. "Would it make you feel better?" You asked with a meek voice. Your body was on fire and Wanda was making it worse.

"Only if you tell me how much you want it first," She whispered as her fingers lightly rubbed your cunt through the cloth of your shorts. "Don't be shy, baby, no one can hear it but me." She laughed at your shyness. You were too cute not to tease.

You laughed back nervously. "You're joking, right?" Wanda only raised her eyebrows. You'd never been in this position before. Forced to beg and follow someone else's orders. "Please don't be mean," You whispered. For that, Wanda only began rubbing your cunt. It wasn't even close to enough with your clothes in the way, especially considering your clit remained neglected.

"Oh, I know you can do better than that." Her thumb pressed down harder, but only for a second. Wanda could almost feel your slick seeping through your underwear. "It's no fun denying yourself. Just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." Her free hand slid up your thigh and began unbuttoning your shirt. "You're just so desperate for me, but I can't help my baby if they don't talk to me."

You could only whine as Wanda's fingers continued to tease every part of your body. "Touch me please," You whispered.

"But I'm already touching you, baby."

It was embarrassing. How could Wanda be so cruel to you? After all, you've given her. You've been nothing but kind to her and yet she repaid you by shattering your pride. "Fuck me, please. I need you so bad!" The worst part was that you enjoyed her cruelty. By the time Wanda had stripped you of all your clothes, your slick had leaked onto the bed. "Please, please, I need you so bad."

"Awe, baby you're a mess." One of her fingers began rubbing tight circles around your clit. Your desperate whimpers and moans were like music to her ears. "That's what I like to hear. You sound so cute." Wanda began sucking on your nipple just as one of her fingers slid inside of cunt. "Oh, and you're just so tight. I bet you've never been fucked right, huh?"

You shook your head without a second thought. Pleasure had taken over your senses. "More!" and "Please!" were the only words you could say. Each thrust of Wanda's fingers pushed you further and further into a sea of bliss.

"God if I knew I was gonna fuck you, I would've brought my strap with me."

The thought of something more than Wanda's fingers was so overwhelming it made you whine.

Wanda curled her fingers as they rubbed against your g spot. "Don't worry, baby. Once this stupid little show is over I'll take you home and fuck you right." She buried her face in your neck and began leaving soft kisses over the heavy marks she'd left earlier. "I have this big one- oh you'd just love it! It'd stretch out that hole and fill you up with cum. Doesn't that sound fun?"

It sounded fun, but your body answered before your brain could. Your walls fluttered around Wanda's long fingers. Cum leaked out of your hole like a fountain and Wanda was quick to lick it up. Her fingers and tongue worked in sync to drag out your orgasm as long as she possibly could. "No, no more," You whimpered, desperately trying to push Wanda's head away.

Wanda kissed your thigh then rolled over to lay next to you on her bed. She watched as you struggled to catch your breath. "Think you could give me one more?" She asked as she played with the strands of your hair.

The offer was tempting, but you'd never recover if you let Wanda have her way. "Um, I think we'll have to work up to multiple rounds. I think I'm all fucked out for the night." You buried your head into one of Wanda's pillows and watched as she got off of the bed. "Noo, stay, please? I can take a shower later."

"Fine, but if you wait too long I'm turning this into a bubble bath." Wanda laid back down. She pulled you closer so your head was properly buried into her chest. Her fingers toyed with the hair at the base of your neck as you two began to relax and let go of the sexual energy.

"...what happened in the shack?"

Wanda let out a heavy sigh. "You're really bad pillow talk, you know that?" She ruffled your hair and looked down at you. "Do you want to know that bad?" Denying you was hard already, but when you looked up with the softest eyes she'd ever seen, saying no was impossible. "It's not that I don't wanna talk about it, I just don't want you to think I still have feelings for him or something like that."

"You dragged me upstairs and fucked me instead of talking things out with him, I know you don't have feelings for him anymore." You leaned away from Wanda's chest. "I'm much more worried about you bottling up all those nasty feelings in here," You said, poking Wanda's chest to accent your point. "Just say whatever is on your mind, I'm all ears."

"It's just…god, every time I give that fucker a chance he turns around and steps all over me! We broke up and got back together three times before I stopped forgiving him. You think he would've said something between that and just ripped the band-aid off instead of letting some stupid reality show find out first!" Wanda continued to ramble. The minutes continued to tick by but she just couldn't stop herself. Maybe she'd pause for a few minutes because she couldn't figure out how to put her frustrations into words, but you were always there to help her.

Eventually, Wanda had nothing else to say. Her anger fizzled out into slow acceptance

She let out a heavy breath before nuzzling back into the side of your neck. "Thank you," She mumbled exhaustedly. Wanda, never one to miss the chance to praise you, began smothering your face with kisses once again. "Ah, you're just the cutest aren't you? Always making me so sappy and mushy!"

You whined playfully and pushed her away. "Maybe you're just made of mush and full of sap!"

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x you #influencer!wanda

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copperbadge · 8 months

Text

Having an entertaining, low-key Shivadh Saturday around here today. One of the subplots of Royals/Ramblers involves some light underwater archaeology, but Monday doesn't want to dive while she's pregnant, so Michaelis volunteers to let her train and direct him, diving in her place. He's just come up from his last practice dive in the harbor, and it's time to break for lunch...

"The gossip about these lessons is very funny," he added, nodding subtly at a man with his phone out, clearly trying not to seem like he was taking their picture. "Your brother sends me regular reports of my fame, you know. Lately it's half wild speculation about why you and I are spending so much time together and half amusement that I've decided to take up extreme sports late in life."

"Nothing salacious, is there?"

"Well, salacious, yes. Malicious, I don't think so," he said. "Nobody takes that kind of thing seriously, or if they do, the palace finds a way to deal with them. I've found that, once you cross fifty, you are assumed to be in a mid-life crisis until you die, so someone's always imagining that I've lost my senses. Currently, the question is whether the mid-life crisis is the scuba diving or the imagined affair."

"What a soap opera that would be," Monday said. "In this scenario are you also secretly the father of my child?"

"Naturally. The whole surrogacy is just a ruse to cover it up."

"Scandalous. I guess it speaks to your character that a lot of people think your idea of a mid-life crisis is diving, though," she said.

"Well, most of them have met me," he said. "Aside from driving too fast and always thinking I know best, my sins are few and mild. And I would put up with a great deal more aspersions on my character," he added, "for both the pleasure of your company here and the eventual grandchild. Although if it bothers you, you should tell Theophile, he'll put Comms on it."

"Nah. I never really hear much about it," she said, as they reached land. There was a little bank of outdoor storage chests, mainly for the few boaters who used the pier; he began packing the equipment into one of them, slipping some sandals on while she continued. "And I'm used to it from my surf days. Not exactly this, obviously, but when you reach a certain level in any sport, as a woman, people start to insinuate things."

"Unconscionable," Michaelis said, locking the trunk closed. "Unfortunately also a reality of life -- every few years, when the news cycle was slow, there'd be some ass who'd dig out a photograph of me with a random woman at a party and claim I was running around on my wife. It used to bother Gregory. Miranda found it uproariously funny."

"What about you?" she asked, and he was quiet for a moment as they continued walking.

"It never really registered, I think. Some things did, some things I took very personally, but that always felt so childish. I couldn't take it seriously. May we all be so blessed, eh? Given the lives we lead."

"Before you guys came to visit, our dad said to me that Ed doesn't look super far forward into the future," Monday said. "Dad wasn't sure Ed understood how huge a commitment he was making. Not like a two-year Eat Network contract, was how he put it. Ramblers do tend to live in the moment, but when he said that I thought, well, that won't be me. I might not have a life plan or anything but I know the proportions of the promises I make. Now...maybe I should have taken a long look at myself, too."

They'd reached the curve of footpath that would lead them around the Maritime Academy's building, to the little grassy area with tables and benches; he paused, glancing out at the harbor and then back at her.

"You know, you're well liked here," he said. "Not just by us, the family I mean, but by the town. It seems like you've made friends, too. I don't know that it needs to be said, but in case you weren't aware, you'd be welcome if you wanted to stay. You'd have a place here. Not as the..." he gestured dismissively, "queen mother, or royal surrogate, or whatnot, but purely as Theophile's sister. If you wanted. No pressure," he added with a smile.

"I knew, but it's nice to hear," she agreed, leading him down to the tables, setting the bag on one of them. "It's not...in the plan for me, I think, but if I did want to stay, I'll keep it in mind."

"Do. And now, let's see what Simon has sent us for lunch -- ah, excellent," he said, fishing a pair of plastic containers out of the bag. "Cold curried chicken or roast beef sandwich?"

"Split 'em?" Monday suggested.

"Won't help the rumors," he said, smiling, but he took half the sandwich when she offered, scooping half the chicken into her container with a suspiciously sporklike object from the bag.

A picture of them having lunch together did make the gossip blogs the next day. Monday, lying in bed next to a still-sleeping Georgie, took a screenshot of the photo and clickbaity headline and sent it to him without comment.

His response came back a few minutes later. Our union can never be. A fish and a bird might fall in love, but where would they build a home?

#shivadhverse

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