#you can very clearly tell who my favorites are just by the damn length of the stuff

[mercmenagerie]

Imagine your muse(s) had to play as different classes for one day. Which class would they choose and would they be good at it?

↳ ❝ [ @infernalpursuit ] ¡ sent an ask ! ❞

Because this got very long very quickly they will be put under a read more! Soldier -> Spy Medic -> Engineer Heavy -> Soldier Spy -> Sniper Engineer -> Pyro

The heft or lack thereof of the knife in his scarred hands is vaguely familiar. Some memory stirred within the ragged-edged abyss of Snuffy's mind, like a predator's eyes shining from the midnight darkness of a jungle. There had been no preamble to this abrupt shuffling of classes; he was simply a soldier one moment and a spy the next. Body feeling much lighter without that familiar weight of ammo belts, flack vest, thick canvas uniform, his launcher, even the shotgun is absent from his kit. Half a thought floats through Snuffy's mind about who might now be drowning beneath all that weight. It brought a smirk to his lips.

Yet, that nagging sense that he's been here before will not abate. Absently flicking the folding knife open, he notes the mean Sharktooth serration near the tang before testing the sharpness against the pad of his thumb. Noting a bright ruby-red droplet of blood that wells up immediately at the press of the blade, Snuffy hums appreciatively. Sharper than sin. Inspecting the blade further, his attention drifts for just a moment to the navy blue pinstripe suit, which is finely tailored to the broad width of the soldier's body. While the man would drop dead before ever admitting it to the Spy's face, it was an extremely nice get-up.

Would he still be a Spy, though? With the shuffling? Was he still a Soldier? Many soldiers had done covert operations behind enemy lines, including espionage, and they were still dubbed just as much a soldier as the next jarhead. That unfamiliar shock of anxiety which had gripped his chest with that thought brought an equally strong wash of anger with it. Only ten minutes in this damn suit without his gear on, and he's already going soft. He needed something to kill. With a grunt, the soldier shrugs out of the expensive suit and undoes the cufflinks before rolling up the sleeves of his thick forearms. Readjusting the grip on the knife, he flicks it closed before depositing the slim blade into the pocket of his slacks.

As the loudest member on the team next to Scout, Snuffy had a visceral kind of glee from thinking about the look on the other team's face right before he slid that blade into their ribs.

This must be a joke of some kind, a joke that Detrick clearly does not understand the punchline to. Gone were the comforting layers of surgical coat and smock, long sleeves to hide the splotches of puckered burn scars he'd tried to get respawn to erase time and time again without success. A slightly crazed laugh bubbles up from the medic as he stares at the wrench in his hands, that tenuous hold he has on his sanity slipping by inches.

"Very funny, you got me! Now give me back my coat." His sharp baritone echoes in the empty respawn chamber, flat, almost patronizing murmurs bouncing back at him. Forcing another chuckle, irritation bleeding into his voice, the medic looks around, trying to find a camera or Scout hiding to spring the prank and tell him it's a ruse. Ears beginning to whine, and Detrick can feel his heart battering the inside of his ribs. In a vaguely detached clinical way, his mind blandly informs him he's beginning to panic.

"Alright, joke is over. Come out now and return my things; I am not--" The word sticks in Detrick's dry throat like a bitter pill. He can't say it. After nearly thirty-three years, Detrick can barely acknowledge the time before he'd begun pursuing his medical profession. He still woke drenched in a cold sweat with the acrid stench of burning oil and charred flesh thick in his nostrils. Ragged broken glass memories remind him of what it felt like to lay in that stinking mud chewed up by their tank treads and realize that nothing in this world mattered. A fundamental part of the man fractured at that moment under the raging cold rain, a distant explosion of tank shells trembling the mud soaking into his wounds.

He'd been young when war came knocking on Belgium's door. Yet, old enough to understand that the constant reports from the radio and civil wars breaking out across the world were only adding to the tensions. Two years later, skirmishes only worsened; by then, Detrick had lost both parents to typhoid and become the sole provider for four younger brothers. War brewed, and when it finally explosively boiled over, his second brother, who had elbowed into an impatient and rowdy adulthood, joined the war effort immediately. Twenty-two and watching as his brothers, one by one, slipped their leashes and chased the conflict, he too finally followed when the youngest had turned sixteen. The blitz began less than a year later and reduced Detrick's entire village to a smoking hole in the ground, taking his youngest brother with it.

Detrick had initially enlisted as a medic in some vain, childish hope that perhaps he would be able to see his brothers again. Or, at the very least, confirm their deaths and snuff out that panicked flutter in his chest that didn't know if they were okay. Yet when there were more dead than injured, he'd been reallocated as an engineer on a tanker crew with the first armoured division near the front lines. He'd been vaguely reassured that he might not see direct combat, but it was a bold lie. She was a Hotchkiss H35 dubbed "Stevig" stalwart—a resolute and unmoving force against the advancing war machine. Detrick was not an engineer by any stretch, only having ever worked on the stray car in his father's mechanic shop.

Stevig and her crew had already won several skirmishes, proudly displaying scars and battle tags. He'd been grafted in like a bad organ. Their last engineer had defected to the enemy's embrace, and how they were given a soft-bodied medic just past his twenty-fourth birthday, who'd barely cut his teeth in the surgical wards. Detrick had scarcely any blood on his hands, while Stevig was steeped in the horrors of war.

Not that this mattered. Stevig had old fuel lines, kept together mostly by tape and epoxy. It had been a god-awful storm when the Belgian armoured division rolled into that killing pit. Detrick should have tried to replace the lines; they'd been rotting like cancer within the tank for months, but they had no funding or spare parts. He should have done more, tried to patch them better, done anything more than what he'd thought would be enough at the time. But he wasn't an engineer. And when the incendiary shell struck the broad side of the tank, it turned into an inferno in the blink of an eye. Detrick felt the flesh boil off his arms, heard the screams curdling into gargles of death, felt a hand pulling him out of his harness and throwing him bodily out of the destroyed tank.

Landing hard in the cold mud, he could barely see through the tears streaming from burning eyes, but it was enough to see the charring body of their driver lying in the dirt next to him smoking. All his meagre medical training had accomplished nothing. He couldn't save anybody in that tank except for himself; even then, there are nights when the cold concrete darkness presses the doctor into his mattress, and he isn't sure if he's alive at all. His whole life after that was just an oxygen-starved hallucination of his brain in its death throes.

Detrick had been transferred back to the medical facility he'd been dismissed from, to begin with. Near constant chronic pain made him cruel, regret bitter, and hearing of his brother's deaths made him numb to everything else. Once all the tiny facets of humanity were chipped away, Detrick had metamorphosized into a monster. He's aware of all these facts, embraces them even. But standing there beneath the stark white fluorescents with nothing but the buzzing from the lights and the ringing in his ears, he gazes down at the wrench in his hand.

"I am not an engineer."

"You look like your father." Misha could feel the warm weight of his mother's hands smoothing down the lapels of his uniform. The knobby knuckles of those hands which had held the man who now dwarfed her each day of his life now brushed a stubbled cheek. Such a small gesture stoked a fierce love in Misha's chest, which is saved only for those whose absence would shatter one's entire world. There is a sadness in her eyes, which the woman tries hard to hide from her son, but he sees it nonetheless as he memorizes the smile lines and crow's feet around those kind eyes so he may never forget them. Misha is leaving, and he doesn't have the words to reassure his mother that he will be okay, so instead, he takes her fragile hands in his own and summons what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

Standing in the stark respawn chamber, hands raised and clasping nothing but empty air, Misha feels cold. A bone-deep chill bites into him like a knife, twisting and pulling apart all the soft parts of him he's hidden well beneath years of callouses and mental walls. Yet, the warm safety of his mother's hands is being carved from him one breath of fridged air at a time. He barely remembers her voice anymore. Misha has to keep telling himself that it is for their safety that he does not visit often and that he does not give up the location of their home to any enemies who may still want to hurt him. Of which there are plenty.

"You look just like your father" It had been a point of pride for the young man to look like someone whom he idolized at the time. Before his father turned into a coward and put their family in jeopardy, he put Misha in the gulag and had his sisters and mother hunted like animals. Now, he would rather spend more years in that Siberian hellscape than ever be compared to that mongrel. He had known that enlistment was coming, the country in turmoil, and he being the oldest and only son, it was only a matter of time. Once that draft letter and uniform had come to their home he'd been ready for it, but he hadn't been ready for that sadness in his mother's face.

He was then thrown into the churning bloody teeth of war. To become a soldier like his father, and his father before him. Generations of conflict, generations of soldiers that would continue with Misha. Fists wrapping around the rocket launched he knows in his head that he is the product of hundreds of soldiers before him and would carry their strength.

When one spends so much time being other people, changes in the base self are glaringly apparent. Maxime notices almost immediately when he respawns without the familiar shift of a well-tailored suit to accompany his movements. Open air caresses the uncovered contours of his sharply angled face, and it's then that a lance of panic stabs through the Frenchman. Looking down, he would nearly laugh if not for the horrifying notion that someone knows this much about his past. Once he'd left the war, he'd meticulously erased this man from existence. It was for both of their good.

A slightly faded crimson uniform hung awkwardly off Maxime's thin frame, having lost some of the muscle definition he'd had then. Leaning on the bench, a bolt-action Lebel 1886 rifle waited expectantly, its dulled gun metal grey bolt catching the harsh overhead light. The sight of his old weapon surprised him, and stepping forward, Maxime reached reflexively behind his ear and found the cigarette waiting there as if the last thirty years had never even passed. Picking up the rifle, he goes through the motions of checking and sighting, which came as naturally as breathing.

Maxime had always been what they call a "single asset" in the military world. Voluntarily enlisting and making it to the "1er Bataillon de Fusiliers Marins Commandos", he'd been thrust immediately into wetworks. He'd been told repeatedly that if missions failed, then the country would deny all affiliations or responsibility to save face from the black book work he'd been doing. Essentially dubbing him as a rogue countryman in the event anything happened. To the orphan who sought purpose in the war, this sounded just fine. Maxime had hungered voraciously to prove he needed nothing and nobody, and clandestine black work would serve him perfectly.

Rifle and close-quarter combat expertise quickly rose to the forefront as skills he'd had a forte in. One must have respect for their rifle or knife, or else it would jam or lose its killing edge. Maxime always kept that edge sharp. But as his covers became deeper, more covert missions, layer upon layer of lives he'd never lived, people he'd never been and faces that were never his made it difficult to grasp who he was or had ever been. He'd only remembered his name was Maxime from a faded picture of a sickly, sallow-faced young man with a haughty flavour of hatred in his slate grey eyes standing in front of Madame Besson's Home for Young Boys. Scrawled across the bottom of this photograph in thin slanting script is Maxime 1931.

He tries not to dwell too long on that picture. Looking to it only when the neatly excised memories of a past better left forgotten rattled the drawers of the morgue he'd stuffed it into in the back of his mind. One did not need to know who they were to end another man's life. He did not need a face, a name, anything. Maxime only needed a weapon.

Three steps toward the door to respawn with that damned Sniper's face bright in his mind, Murphy notices something is wrong. Glancing around the cold clinical space there was a silence save for that constant insectile buzz of overhead lights. Attention is turned inward after deeming his surroundings are not the source of his disquiet. Sweeping eyes over himself, Murphy feels his heart thunder to a complete stop.

A long-necked modified acetylene torch is gripped tightly in the hand, expecting a wrench. Instead, usual thick gloves are traded for grease-stained welding gloves that reach nearly up to the man's biceps. Those thick black stains soaked into all the places that Murphy remembers. Ghostly and just on the edges of perception, that horrible acrid stench of a house ablaze floods Murphy's nose. Squeezing his eyes shut against the memories, the engineer physically cringes away from each sensation, trying to shove them back where they'd been banished too. He wasn't that man anymore. That man had died then and there. Yet, that particular corpse sometimes would crawl out at the worst times.

Welding is an inherently dangerous profession, and if one were to adjust the nozzles and injector valves of his gas tanks, a more significant flame could be produced with relative ease. It made welding large pieces of metal easier for him and made Murphy a sought-after asset in his field. Yet, the dangers were many, lugging around a modified backpack full of highly flammable and explosive gasses while operating an extremely high heat torch. It was a miracle he was alive at all. But Murphy enjoyed it nonetheless, and it was ultimately how he met Lola.

She'd been a waitress at one of the few twenty-four-hour diners that Murphy frequented after long, gruelling shifts at the industrial plant. He was a welder for the aircraft wings being shipped off elsewhere, and the town of Pepperdine had sprung up around the grey beast of a manufacturing plant as the war economy boomed in this small corner of Texas.

Lola had moved there with a now ex-boyfriend, who she alluded got put away in jail for one thing or another. Soft dark hair and sharp honey-brown eyes, she was the flame, and he the moth who wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by the fire. It didn't take them long to move in with one another, and nearly two years later, Murphy had proposed with a thin silver band he'd made himself. Their initials burned into the gleaming metal. They'd been planning the wedding, talking about children, maybe even moving out of Pepperdine to Houston or Dallas. Murphy kissed Lola on that sunny August afternoon two weeks before their wedding, and she told him there would be cherry pie waiting for him after dinner.

Nothing had seemed amiss at first when Murphy came home that evening, not until he found Lola dead on their kitchen floor, slumped in a still-seeping pool of crimson. The acrid smell of a burning pie in the oven filled the room over that metallic iron stink of blood. Panicked and shaking, he called 911 as his mind screamed that this was a dream, it was a nightmare, his Lola was still alive, he was taking a nap in the backroom somewhere, and he'd kiss her later and tell her how much he loved her.

Now planning a funeral instead of their wedding, Murphy floated in a numb haze through life, every day bleeding together as grief hollowed him out. What finally broke through that miasma was finding out they had detained the man who killed his fiancee. The ex-boyfriend whom Lola spoke about all those years ago had been released several days before the attack, and his fingerprints had been found all over the scene. Murphy's grief was the perfect kindling for a rage so hot it nearly made the man blind. Once hearing that the bastard had gotten off on an insanity plea and was instead under house arrest, Murphy's last fraying edges of rational thought had gone up in smoke.

It took a week or so of learning the rotations of police around the ex's house, knowing the gaps, the laziness, and the complacency surrounding this scum. Years of carrying around welding equipment made it even easier to break into the house with it strapped to his back. Easy to bash the other man across the face with the neck of his heavy torch. So very easy to focus the beam of that torch to cut straight through each kneecap to prevent him from running away. Murphy knelt to stare straight into the eyes of the last man to see his wife alive and saw no regret, no fear, only a hatred that reflected Murphy's own. The house had gone up in an inferno, several cans of gasoline making an excellent accelerant. The police found Murphy sitting at Lola's grave with his torch equipment, sitting next to him when they came to arrest him.

Holding that torch again, Murphy felt no regret or fear. Only that old growing flame of hatred that had finally been fed oxygen after so many years of careful banking. Now Murphy was ready to feed it again.

[venus-haze]

Sick as a Dog (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Day 25 - Underwear stealing/sniffing. Soldier Boy is America's first superhero. The greatest man who ever lived. Larger than life itself. A sleazy chauvinist who's getting off on your panties in a motel bathroom. [AO3 link]

Note: Written for @cozycornerevents Kinktober! Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I think this is my first Soldier Boy fic set in modern day…anyway it was fun writing mean and gross Soldier Boy🤭

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Soldier Boy-typical misogyny. Sexually explicit content involving masturbation, panty stealing/sniffing, degradation, voyeurism.

You couldn’t relax around Soldier Boy, not when Butcher and Hughie left you alone with him in that damn motel room. It was almost impossible to focus on the TV with him so blatantly eyeing you like a piece of meat. Tried to do the arm-over-the-shoulder move so he could grope your breast, and called you a prude under his breath when you scooted further down the couch. 

Sure, he was attractive, but you weren’t about to mix business with pleasure—especially not with a guy who, when introduced to you, asked Butcher if they only kept you around as “stress relief,” as if you weren’t even standing in front of him. Maybe you should have gone with MM and Annie after all.

“I gotta use the can,” he grumbled, scratching his crotch before standing up from the couch.

The tension slowly released from your body the further away he got from you. Picking up your phone from the coffee table, you saw a missed text from Hughie: Sorry to leave you on supe-sitting duty. Everything good?

You sighed, your thumbs hovering over the keys before sending back: Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle.

Threw in an emoji at the end so he wouldn’t feel too bad. It was kind of your own fault, anyway. You decided to go along with Butcher and Hughie because part of you still naively believed in Soldier Boy’s heroism, his authenticity. And then you actually met him. Heard the shockingly crass way he talked, a relic of a time you had no interest in reliving.

You were just about to text Annie when you heard it.

A name. Your name. Low and gruff and mean coming from his mouth.

Putting your phone down, you glanced in the direction of the bathroom. 

You knew your best option was to just ignore it when you heard him say your name again—turn up the volume on the TV and ignore the way heat flared up between your legs at the grunts he didn’t even try to keep down. Instead, you stood up, your heart beating faster with each step you took. The motel room wasn’t all that big, didn’t take very long at all to get to the bathroom door, look in where he’d left it open a crack. 

Had he been careless? Or did he want you to watch?  

You gaped openly at him, pumping his hard cock with a pair of your used panties bunched up in his hand, sliding it up and down his length. Black, satin with a little bow, it was one of your favorite pairs you brought with you, too, and you weren’t sure how to feel about him having chosen that one to get off with, to ruin. You looked back at your duffel bag, wide open and clearly rifled through. Supposed you were trying too hard not to pay attention to him to pay any mind to his violating your privacy.

“That’s right, take it, you fucking slut,” he growled. “You might not be their stress relief, but you’re gonna be mine.”

How the hell was this the same guy whose PSAs you watched throughout your school years, telling you to pledge allegiance to the flag and say no to drugs? He was sick, hypocritical, a symbol of the worst of American debauchery. Every subsequent word that came out of his mouth was vile, objectifying—should’ve repulsed you instead of going straight to your pussy. Your brain was screaming at you to go back to the couch and pretend you didn’t see anything, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

“I’ll make sure you can’t fucking walk tomorrow, have to carry you over my shoulder and tell everyone what a slut you are for my cock.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He squeezed his cock harder, his pumps more punishing, frustration radiating off of him as his precum soaked through your ruined panties. Could you even bear to wear them again, knowing all the things he said and did with them bunched up in his hand, picturing you in their place, bent over the motel room sink, or anywhere else he could think of in that deviant mind of his.

“How bad do you want it? C’mon, I wanna hear you beg.”

“Please,” you whispered despite yourself.

“I know you’re out there,” he taunted, startling you. “I can hear you panting like a bitch in heat. Why don’t you come in and give me a hand?”

With a gasp, you found your legs again and ran back to the living area. Fell over yourself to get onto the couch and make the TV louder, anything to drown out the sound of his groans, your name mixed with curses as he came just a few feet away. 

Your face was on fire, and you sat with your hands folded between your legs, trying desperately to ignore the want that had overtaken you while watching him. You were better than that, better than debasing yourself for someone like him. Still, a shiver ran down your spine when you heard a gruff, drawn out “Fuck” over the sound of the stupid Vought A Burger commercial that was on.

The sink ran. Toilet flushed. Your head was pounding when he walked out of the bathroom and back to the couch. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, throwing your panties at you.

The balled up garment landed on your lap, wet and heavy with his cum. With a reluctant, trembling hand, you pushed it onto the floor.

Your voice cracked as you half-heartedly told him, “You’re disgusting.”

He scoffed, his arm draped across the back of the couch, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder. “You should take it as a compliment. There’s plenty of other broads I could’ve jacked off to—Hayworth, Bardot, Fawcett—”

“But none of them had their panties lying around here, did they?”

“No, they didn’t.” He was silent for a moment before breaking into a grin. “I’m gonna get you to fold sooner or later. Then, I’m really gonna make you beg for it.”

“Don’t bet on it,” you mumbled.

[kattythingz]

🙌🏻 woah, ❤️🧡💚🖤💔 be upon ye

WOAH!!! Your wish is my command!!! (Repeats were answered in previous asks.)

🧡 - what is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?

Oooooh, that's a good one! Let's see... Well, I've seen a few that tried explaining the Dragon's Pulse as some geological phenomenon. I've seen one that referred to magma flow too, which is super cool!!! BUUUUT...

I think trying to explain the Pulse takes away from the mystique of alkahestry. Like, is there a scientific explanation for it? Probably, if alchemy is a science and it has a reasonable explanation too. But alkahestry is also deeply rooted in sth also deeply rooted into Xing's culture itself. And I think it works more off of spirituality than anything else. So all these attempts to explain it exactly like alchemy—that is, like a scientific phenomenon—kind of takes away from the differences between alchemy and alkahestry.

That magma flow theory still sounds super cool tho.

💚- what does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

Oh my god, people misconstrue SO many things about Ed. I've got a goddamn list. The current flavor for today is that, apparently people think he'd be extremely introverted??? Or at least socially inept?? Listen, I absolutely agree that Ed's an introvert, but canon has proven TIME AND AGAIN that he's actually pretty damn good at socializing when he needs to? And in fact takes joy in it?? LOOK AT LIORE FFS. These people annoy the shit out of him with their religiousness but he still takes the time to socialize and be kind to Rose?? Esp in 03 you can tell they get along, and Ed's enjoying himself! Look again at Youswell! EVEN TUCKER MAN. THERE'S SO MUCH PROOF OF ED THRIVING JUST FINE IN SOCIAL SETTINGS. CoS is an extreme case because Ed's gone through literal hell so many times, oh my god, of course he'd be depressed and unwilling to form connections again in fear of losing people!

He also literally grew up in a small town where everyone knew everyone? Like, he's even buddies with the train station guy in the manga! And all the kids and stuff know him and Al when they return from Izumi's training. THE BOYS ARE INTROVERTED, YES, BUT NOT ANTI-SOCIAL NOR SOCIALLY INEPT. Lest we forget Ed's masterful manipulation of Yoki in Youswell???

That got very passionate so I'll just. Stop while I can.

🖤 - which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?

MUSTANG AND LING. I'm sorry, but one of these men is a literal war criminal who's clearly willing to risk anything just to become Fuhrer (for a good cause, yes, but "anything" is still anything), and the other is—basically the same case? He wants to be emperor by any means, and, again, he went far enough to become literal greed? People seriously underestimate how far Ling's greed goes AND the lengths he'd go for what he wants. Enough of this "oh no Mustang has questionable means sometimes but he's still mostly good!" and "Ling would sacrifice everything for his people when he's emperor without thinking of himself". THEY ARE MORALLY GRAY. SAY IT WITH ME. GRAY. The grayest of grays.

[misqnon]

HI im the anon who sent in that ask about one piece the other day and!!! AGHH. im too shy and socially anxious to send a message so sorry for communicating through asks but !!

THANK UU for responding to me !! it makes me so happy when people seem excited to talk to me, and i love hearing about peoples interests, so. i was very happy reading ur reply!!!! also this is probably an even longer message 😭 i cant help it i love to ramble

my history with one piece is long and complicated LMAO so i wont rant about it, but i started watching anime when i was 7 and one piece caught my attention when i was 10 i think, so ive had a lot of time to experience it tbh. but i was never that into it until i read the manga!! if im recommending one piece, i usually recommend the manga because its so much easier to get through imo.

honestly now that im caught up im like.. so afraid for the end of one piece. i never want it to end. i keep hearing that this is the final saga, and that one piece is ending soon, and my brain just. cannot comprehend it. i dont know if its just denial or what but i fully believe it won't end for another 5 years.. i havent experienced enough of the one piece world!!! i need more!! tell me everything about everyone in one piece PLEASE . it cant end . and those thoughts have been plaguing my mind since i restarted it LOL

looking at old forums to see peoples opinions from when each chapter dropped is genius??? i might have to do that.. i want to see their theories. i want to say "you have no idea whats in store...." or admire how smart they are for guessing things correctly

i find it funny that u like sanji cuz i have such complicated feelings around him. like he was my absolute favorite upon first introduction. i loved his kindness, i loved his interactions with gin, and i thought he was cool as hell. he was definitely a positive role model for my very damaged child brain. but i think the pervert joke and him treating women differently has pretty much ruined him for me. when i was younger a part of me felt like it was only right that he treat women better, but im pretty sure i just felt that way bc i hated the experience of being born female so much that the only way i could cope was by taking every and any advantage i could get. and then i figured out i was non binary.. and hes been turned into the most cartoonishly disgusting pervert .. and i see his potential and it just.. UGH!! you could have been so good. anyways all my feelings around him make it a lot more interesting to see u talk about him!! usually i just headcanon him as transfem and that satiates my burning rage and hatred towards him. but seeing sanji likers talk about liking sanji makes me actually like sanji more!! at this rate i might turn back into a sanji fan

im not in any one piece fan spaces but i AM consuming one piece content as often as possible (so all day. i dont have. a job. or school.). i know this is most likely a passing hyperfixation for me but im loving it anyways. i will definitely keep an eye on ur blog bc im sooo excited for when u catch up. im having so much fun theorizing about the end of the story and . and i hope u will too!! eek rant over thanks for listening (metaphorically)

HI ANON!! once again putting this under cut bc i will once again be freely speaking my way too many thoughts about the silly pirate manga. (fair warning. this. this is 2K words. anon im.....so sorry)

you don't have to worry about communicating through asks btw i literally do not care do whatever makes u comfortable my dude <3 and 1. thank YOU for sending a message :^) 2. i am loving the joyous atmosphere we have created ranting at each other back and forth HAHAHA it makes me happy to talk about interests like this as well!! (looks at length of my last reply and this one) clearly. we can think of this as like. electronic pen pals 👍bc i do be basically writing letters here LMAO

yea as u can tell its a little complicated for me too lmao ( i mean. the damn thing has been going on longer than i've been alive, so. it's touched many people in many ways. and it's complicated in its OWN right which. i'll get to. but holy shit 7 is younger than i expected! thats still a pretty long history (though i cant talk bc at age 4 i had a crush on goku even tho i had no idea what was happening half the time i was watching the dbz reruns on tv </3) and YEA. YEA THE MANGA IS. SO MUCH MORE STREAMLINED AND WELL PACED. EVEN THO I MISS THE COLOR AND MOVEMENT AND VOICE ACTING OF THE ANIME it was just takin too long. and i really like oda's art, so...reading the manga lets me look at it better. and there's more care put into the frames. but overall ur right the manga is chefs kiss in comparison to other versions (WHICH ARENT BAD!! JUST...SLOW. and though i think the live action wasnt really NEEDED i did. like it. and it is what got me back into op + got me caught up through east blue a lot faster HAHA)

tbh hearing that its in its last saga made me feel like i got into one piece at a really good time bc if i plan it right i can catch up and then follow along with the release for only a little while until its done. also the live action s2 and the "The One Piece" reanimated anime will be coming soon too. the content saturation is everywhere 👍(showering in it) THOUGH I DO FEEL A BIT PRESSURED LIKE. WHAT IF ONE PIECE FINISHES BEFORE I CATCH UP . which is insane bc im almost to wano (even though i hear wano is really long). and also...i think its been called the final "saga" but idk if that means final ARC you know...kinda like how water 7 and enies lobby kinda blend into one. or impel down and marineford are lumped together. idk i feel like we got a bit more. i just feel like there's so much we havent got answered yet and i dont think oda would just leave that stuff hanging. i know there;s a list out there of things that one piece needs to adress/come back to before it finishes but i havent looked at it bc im afraid of spoilers. however, just in my own mind theres a LOT i know has to happen that we need plenty of time for!! so. i wouldnt be surprised if it WAS 5 more years. i mean like...shanks needs to happen. i think zoro and sanji are gonna have a battle at some point (based on stuff ive seen from wano. im assuming) they gotta see laboon again. gotta revisit shirahoshi's situation. gotta see the dreams come true of each crewmate. tie off loose ends of side characters like tashigi and koby and the warlords. yanno

the "you have no idea what's in store.." is literally my exact emotions . i havent done it for this fandom YET but i plan to go to forums reading over ppl's theories like this

slash seeing how they react and getting giddy about it bc i like seeing how people react to shit. esp if they're shocked or enthusiastic about it like i usually am

about sanji. okay. listen. listen here. i. hate sanji. JNFNVFKDNL

no but actually no matter how complicated someone's feelings are towards sanji i promise you for sanji likers they are probably 100x more complicated unless they're weird dudebros who think he's cool (which he is but only like 10% of the time and not when he's being a chauvinistic ass)

one thing about me is that i. hate doing things that are distasteful or offensive in any capacity and that extends to the media i consume in that i dont like consuming media that is excessively problematic. i understand nuance so like OBVIOUSLY nothing is perfect and everything has problematic elements - but for a lot of shows there's one too many things on one side of the scale and i just dont like having that guilt on my shoulders consuming it. one piece fits that category but it's also SO BIG and SO LONG and its been going on for a WHILE and is such a phenomenon that i can let SOME stuff "slide"...and also realize "bitch one piece is so popular and near its end at this point that you, a single tumblr user, liking it or not liking it is not going to make a difference" and i'm (still) trying to make peace with that. things like oda's passive racism, The Entirety of Kamabakka Kingdom (literally don't even get me started), his blatant sexism in universe and his own opinions in the SBS...i've just come to realize i need to consume my media critically but still let myself have fun. im going through a rough period in life and this happens to be what my brain hyperfixated on and i cant change that so might as well have this outlet. ive made a lot of friends and am really enjoying the story for its good parts (found family, anti government and anti authoritarianism, importance of dreams and ambition and self love, the importance of mental health and trauma and how your past doesnt define you...etc)

i extend a lot of this thinking to sanji, too. to be fair i dont remember why he became my favorite. i think he was my fav when i watched it all those years ago but he wasnt a BIG FAV or anything. watching film red and the opla i think i went into it remembering he was my fav and he just stayed that way, but then i watched more and really started to like him for reasons like 1. im weak to flirtatious characters in general 2. im also weak to blonde men 😔 3. he's an asshole with a kind heart and i love a good juxtaposition 4. he just has some really cool badass moments tbh 5. and he's a LOT. i love characters that are a lot. he's loud and messy and overreactive and prissy and insecure and self sacrificing and also just SECRETLY ONE OF THE KINDEST MOST COMPASSIONATE MEMBERS OF THE CREW? notice how none of these have to do with his pervert shtick lmao

i do actually like his woman thing to an extent, i think its cute when its just him having heart eyes at every woman he sees and being weak to literally any woman who looks at him- cause that's still putting women on a pedestal, but its a fairly harmless character flaw for a fictional character to have. pre-timeskip sanji is a gift for all these reasons. and like, thats when everyone fell in love w his character i think. i MIGHT even forgive his whole "i wont hit a woman" thing bc its not like he doesnt think women shouldnt be hit in general to such an extent (i dont think he ever opposes to anyone else doing it on the crew, HE just doesnt like doing it PERSONALLY bc its his own moral principle he wont break just like the whole wont fight with his hands thing) even if the whole thing stems from the sexist belief women are lesser/weaker (esp after his backstory reveals some stuff)

but the pervert shtick? and the WRITING HIM AS TRANSPHOBIC/HOMOPHOBIC THING?? yea i literally hate that part of his character so much and wish it wasnt added. like i see how it relates to the character oda has decided sanji is but i still dont think it was needed. or okay. lol. i dont think any sanji fan actually likes this part of him. somedays i look at myself in the mirror and i'm like "am i fangirling over a more conventionally attractive bnha mineta rn" and i put on my clown makeup

but he's more than that. for all the reasons i listed above. and the BIGGEST thing that keeps me sane as a Sanji Liker (tm) is the fact that i 100% see half of his shitty character traits as something that are a product of Oda, the author, influencing his own work. im not gonna lie that canonly he still gave sanji those traits so yea like as a trans (? still working on that) GNC bisexual woman my favorite character atm is this weird little guy who's kinda chauvinistic and also canonly a homophobe (...at least, to an extent, bc apparently he has a really good relationship with iva? again, i could write an essay on just the queer rep as well) and thats a little embarrassing but. alas. i already fell in love with the character. and if you consider the writing is done by a dude who's got his own issues and just take the character for what he is...i do still rlly enjoy the idiot. and TRUST ME, i will headcanon him as a repressed bisexual who's probably GNC or a little trans or AT LEAST likes to do drag bc c'mon now. oda PUT ALL THAT IN CANON...AND EXPECTS US NOT TO PLAY WITH IT? you could make a compelling argument that he's 1000% straight and cis and kamabakka was a fluke that he resents but i think you could just as easily interpret it the other way. or just say fuck word of god i'm gonna enjoy this character the way i want (draws sanji in a dress for the millionth time bc i can and it makes me feel better. and once again HE WORE ONE IN CANON...AND WAS SMILING ABOUT IT, FOR A WHILE. IDK IDK CALL ME CRAZY) tldr; sanji is fucked but the worst parts are a product of oda himself and i like the character for other reasons and purposely try to consume him very critically for those reasons bc i do still really like him. like. hes my #1 fav character atm unfortunately. but he's nice in a lot of other ways 🥲

SORRY FOR THAT I TALKED WAYYY TOO MUCH!!!! but i enjoyed it so thanks for the opportunity :') im glad ur vibing with op and we're both enjoying this silly little show. tbh half the reason im trying to read it so fast (and why i read WCI early) is bc i was scared my hyperfixation wouldnt last long enough to finish the series BWAHAHA. here's to hoping we both get to see it end and enjoy the journey that comes with that!

[bylightofdawn]

Today was a long day at work. My back is just...ruining my life at this point. I thought it got better after I stopped taking the new meds but no go. I cannot even explain how much agony I am in when I wake up in the morning. I cannot even sit up. I have to kinda roll over, swing my legs in hopes I can roll to the edge of the bed. I am worried I've actually slipped a disk or something. My GP has not called me back despite my calling them three times. Tomorrow I'm gonna get nasty on the phone and demand they send me a referral for an MRI because I think I need to explore getting some cortisone shots in my back or something. Or give me the referral I asked for PT. I cannot live like this.

My evening was improved by my brother sending over the cutest video from my six year old niece asking me which MLP was my favorite. So I sent her a reply back with my bright purple/pink hair clearly visible telling her I had not seen the new MLP and we'd have to watch it when she's here next month. Which....on one hand god help me, did I just sign up to watch MLP? But on the other, quality time with my niece so I'll take it.

Now, I find myself at an impasse. I could write, I'm in the middle of writing a very fun scene with lots of verbal sparring with Walon Vau. But I also kinda want to read but my reading history is in A B S O L U T E shambles.

I've been reading a lot of Grashir the past few days but I have a couple of D&D HAT fics written by some authors who I adore like Weatherlaw who have been posting WIP's I just haven't had a chance to read yet. On top of that I have like three or four COD fics I stopped midway through because of ADD. And now I'm teetering on the edge of falling down a FR rabbit hole. Cause there's new fics in the Notorious verse which I have not read.

I also kinda lowkey want to see one angsty Jarlaxle/Zak fic where they realize maybe two centuries of separation has changed Jarlaxle and he's not the person Zak used to know and maybe they're not suited to be lovers anymore and should they maybe start as friends. Meanwhile Artemis is totally not lowkey freaking out about this super important figure in Jarlaxle's past who has shown up out of nowhere and is potentially going to upset the delicate balance of their relationship.

BUT I HAVE NOT FOUND THIS FIC SO FAR AND I AM SAD.

Not because I want to see some divisive this pairing is superior to the other so much as people change and it gives you this bittersweet realization that when you see someone you haven't seen in a decade or two and you realize despite being best of friends or maybe something else in the past, you've both changed and you need to examine your relationship and come to terms with the ghosts of that previous relationship and whether you need to redefine it and give it a new meaning.

So any enterprising fic writer out there in the FR fandom, please take my bunny and give it a good home. I don't have the time or attention span for it. Or the brain power to read the most recent books. I still have the entire Generations trilogy sitting on my kindle which I haven't read so for all I know that's been addressed in some way, shape or form.

I thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiink I'm going to be good and write. I'm getting closer and closer to finishing Seeds.

I think I might actually do something super special when I finish this fucking fanfic because yanno what? I will have written essentially two full length novels or one god damned GRRM/Robert Jordan length novel by the time I finish this damned fanfic.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Tell Me A Story

Loki x f(magic reader)

Summary: Stuck in an Asgardian cell for your crimes, you meet an intriguing fellow prisoner who you can’t help but start to feel something for.

Warning: angst, fluff (you’re not leaving sad on my watch)

Masterlist

The ground feels hard. And your head feels incredibly fuzzy, like waking up from a deep slumber by some rude acquaintance who can’t mind their own damn business. Not to mention the throbbing sensation emitting from the left side of your cheek like two annoying disturbances. Were you smacked twice?

What in the bloody shitsticks?

The light in this place is so bright too, you have to squint when opening your irises for the first time to really get a good look at your surroundings. With the light in this awful place too much to bear, you cover your eyes with your fingers to lessen the harshness from above. Soon your gaze trails up witnessed a clean ceiling of pure marble white.

Wait. Are you dead?

Adjusting to the brightness, you slowly bring yourself into a seated position on the equally as shiny clean floor. To your left is a bed and a small nightstand while your right is a see through golden tinged barrier showing the other cells and a single guard walking down the hallway. Cells? Cells!

A prison? You’re in a fucking prison. Shit.

Letting out a dramatic sigh, head in your hands, you suddenly hear a knock on the white section of the confinement hold that turns into loud pounding. Thud! Thud! Thud! And a second later the white disappears, in place shows the same see through golden tinge. A guard on the other side.

“You’re awake.” He says, voice casual as an old friend.

You give him a puzzled look before feeling your face, “I think so.”

He takes a step into your prison where a sword is held in your face, maybe not so much an old friend after all, “As protocol, I must ask you three questions.” Delves the guard, stance never changing.

“Go for it tough guy.”

He remains unfazed, “Do you know your name?” Easy.

“Y/N.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Uh.

“Well it wasn’t for stealing a child’s favorite toy.” You muse before quickly changing your façade, “But yes.”

He scoffs unamused, “Do you know where you are?”

Now this question you don’t have an answer for so instead do you give him your sweetest most innocent face possible, “uh, maybe you could enlighten me?”

The armored man rolls his dark eyes, “You’re in the royal dungeons of Asgard, placed here by King Odin for crimes against our realm. For that. You will remain until otherwise noted by the King.” Barks the guard, you stare up at him with wide eyes. Shocked and bewildered that you’re stuck in Asgard of all places.

“I didn’t even have a fare trial!” You protest.

“You didn’t deserve one, filth.” He counters before sheathing his sword back into its scabbard and off he goes into the golden tinged door. Out of sight in an instant. Rude.

Leaving yourself very puzzled and irritated at the whole ordeal, you never even got a trial to speak your side of the story. Nothing. Now you’re stuck in this dumb shit of a cell with literally nothing to do and no one around to bother, oh wait who’s that across the room?

Jumping to your feet, you swiftly walk over to the glass; there stands a man in green and black attire, leather bound book in hand as his slender face focuses onto the pages. He’s rather handsome in all honesty, with that dark shoulder length hair of his and the thoughtful expression across his face. You’re now fully intrigued.

Then your mind swirls with a thought, you’re in Asgard. So, this must be prince Loki, the one who failed to conquer Midgard. Soon a devilish smirk crosses your features, “What are you doing down here? I thought princes were the ones to put delinquents behind bars?”

Loki’s face shifts from surprise to amusement as he keeps his eyes onto the pages, “Kings.” Corrects the Asgardian prince.

You smile, “Well this king can eat shit!”

He lets out a breathy snort before finally drawing his gaze up to you, his expression quickly diminishes from amusement into star struck fascination when those beautiful blues land upon your beaming mischievous face. Loki has never seen someone so magnificently enticing in his whole entire life. But here you are, whoever you happen to be.

The raven haired man sets the book onto his nightstand before sauntering over to the glass wall, “And who do I presume you are? My new source of entertainment.”

Waving him off like a blushing maiden, you pretend to get all hot and bothered by his sly comment, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

Loki smirks, “I would indeed.”

You curl a piece of hair around your finger, gifting him a shy smile as you avoid his steely gaze. “Sorry.” You mutter, “I only tell men who can take over whole planets in under three days.”

He immediately loses his humored aurora, replacing it with a slightly taken aback yet somewhat pissed off one. “Ouch. But I can’t image you’re any clever if you happen to be stuck down here with me.”

You point up a finger, “On the contraire, my faults are less hefty then your own. So who really lost here?”

“From the looks of it. Both of us.”

You nod, “That is a truthful observation, but what has gifted us a sentence in exile are two entirely different sides to the relatively same coin.”

“Mine being, failure to conquer and rule Midgard. And yours being?”

“Fine. I’ll satiate your appetite.” He raises a brow as you trail your hand down the buzzing glass, “I may have tried to steal some pretty gems downstairs. Blah blah and I got caught by some lady named Frigga who’s a lot more skilled with magic then I had first realized and now I’m here. Granted I don’t remember getting to said “here” but alas my body remains.”

Loki smirks, “My deer mother got the best of you. How is she up in the real world these days?”

“Oh you know, told me she loves reading, doing the usual witchy stuff, and she hates you so go burn in hell for eternity you shit head little boy.”

Loki could have choked on his own spit, “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, she said she loves you. Is that not what you heard? I really thought I was being pretty clear.”

The Asgardian prince shakes his head, “Forget I asked.” Turning around once again to find his way onto the comfortable looking mattress, new book in hand.

You pout at the lack of attention, what did you say to annoy him? Was it the little shit head boy? Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

——

There he is. That incredibly attractive Asgardian prince of Mischief, just standing there. Reading yet another book in his beautiful greens and blacks and golds as he chooses to ignore you. The insanely gorgeous but deeply irritating woman across the cell from him.

You’ve been in here for about four weeks now and Loki has not cracked once. You’re really trying too! All he’s done is gift you with some telling facial expressions or the wonderful side comment to address your theatrics or harmless shenanigans.

All you want to do is get to know him better. And maybe along the way get the fuck out of here with a little help, and then preferably take the prince along for the ride. If it was only that easy.

Levitating in your cell just because you’re tired of standing all the time, you keep your usual unabashed stare-down with the prince when a random guard marches by. He looks from right to left and forward again before doing a double take over to you.

“Hey! Stop that!” He shouts, lance raised at your smirking face while you continue to float, “You can’t do that here!”

You simply roll your eyes, “Who has made this new rule law?”

The guard pauses for a moment, clearly indicating that he just doesn’t want you floating because he’s a party pooper. He swallows, “By king Odin.”

“By king Odin? Doesn’t his son fly?”

“Huh?” He glances over to Loki who’s not paying attention to you two in the slightest.

“Not that one.”

The guard makes a frustrated grunt before removing his lance away from your face, no matter the safety of the glass, “You can remain afloat but only under my authority.” And with that does he stomp off down the corridor.

Idiot.

You beam a victorious grin as he leaves your sight when a sudden slow clapping can be heard from across the hallway. Immediately do you snap your attention up to the prince who’s already sharing one of his infamous smirks, “Congratulations. You’ll now have an enemy down here. And it only took you a few weeks.”

You scoff, moving yourself to float casually on your back, “It’s about time too. Things were starting to get unbearably dull around here.”

Loki hums, “Ever try reading?”

You snort, “No, no I haven’t. Hmm, but I’d love it if you could read to me, since I don’t happen to have any books within reach. It’s only fair.”

Loki raises a brow, “Only fair?”

“Yes. I have the guards annoyed with me, so, they won’t care much about you. And. You get to read, but also to me as well.”

“That’s a possibly compelling suggestion.” Says the prince, mulling over your words.

“I thought so.”

You close your eyes as a couple moments pass before he speaks again, “But I must decline.”

“What!” You shout in bewilderment as he lowly chuckles, “I might just about die of boredom, you want me on your conscience when I pass into oblivion from lack of entertainment!”

Loki smiles at your adorable face, “Make your own fun.” He teases, though you don’t realize this.

Moving yourself into a standing position, yet still without touching the ground, you press your hands against the golden tinged glass, “Loki! You are a beautifully great annoyance and if I wasn’t stuck in here I would throw all your books about! And then….then I’d knock down your nightstand!”

He smirks, “Charming.”

You pout while your fists clench in irritation, “Fine! I didn’t want to listen to your loathsome voice anyways!” He gifts you with a proud half grin as you turn from him to magically throw your wooden nightstand across the room.

You land, reaching a hand out to launch the nightstand back across the room once more before repeating this action again and again until the whole flimsy thing combusts when it crashes violently into the closest wall.

Breathing heavily, you slowly turn to face the irritation watching you do all of this, “Feel better Y/N.”

Pursing your lips together, you release your tight fists, “Yes.”

He nods, “What would you like me to read?”

“Something joyful…….please.”

Loki shares a handsome grin before giving you a respectfully small bow, “As the lady wishes.” Loki shares a small glance with your curious face before turning to search for a book. He kneels down and soon picks out a book colored in a deep blue, something foreign written in golden cursive on the front.

You slowly return to the ground, this time seated criss crossed as you lean half of yourself upon the glass as you try and get as close to Loki as physically possible. Which is difficult considering the hallway’s short distance keeping your cells apart, but you try anyways. He opens up the book and quickly looks up to catch your gaze before smiling and looking down at the first page.

Loki reveals the smallest blush before clearing his throat, “The Fox and the Raven.” You smirk at his adorable face, how focused and deep in thoughtful concentration he becomes as the words flow off of his sly tongue like molten gold. You could listen to him all day.

“Once there were two beings, equal in skill and game. Best friends since childhood even, but there was one thing that drove a wedge in their long relationship. Another. This beautiful being was beyond compare to that of any god or goddess alike. And the two friends where undoubtedly in love with them.

It began one windy day by the river, the beauty stood, washing their hair by the waters edge with not a mind to mess with anyone in their head. The two friends saw them and smiled. “I shall win their affections.” Claimed the dark haired admirer, Tala. “Not you silly fox, I shall be the one to draw their heart to mine.” Spoke Essek with great confidence, his bestfriend in the whole entire realm.

They looked to each other with clear frustration sculpted into their faces, so, the friends came to an agreement. Whoever failed to win over the water nymphs heart, that friend must stay in their animal form forever while the victorious one could live on as they always have. Maybe it was cruel. Maybe not at first.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as the two friends would speak with the water nymph as often as they could. Tala in raven form and Essek as a dashing fox. All was going well as they played their little game of love until the water nymph began to grow quit fond of the raven for his talents in the sky and witty personality.

So much so that on the next full moon, the raven revealed himself to his true form before making love to the joyful water nymph on the rivers edge. And so the very next day when the fox arrived to speak with the nymph, he was surprised to find Tala laying underneath a weeping willow with the nymph in his strong arms.

The fox recoiled with jealousy before his heart shattered in two, Tala smiled a triumphant grin as the fox turned away in disappointment before rushing off into the woodland. Never to be seen again.

So that is why you can never trust anyone who is truly dear to you, for love is a fleeting thing and can turn friends into beasts for something as silly and pathetic as a beacon of affection.” Finishes Loki in an almost sour tone as you sit there on the cell floor, feeling a bit off and out of place from that abrupt turn of events.

You frown, “I thought you were going to read me a happy story?”

Loki closes the book, “I did.” Blue eyes on you in an instant.

“No. You really didn’t.”

Loki gives you an almost dumbfounded look, “The raven got to keep his original form and make love to the water nymph what else is there to want?” He questions like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. Not.

“The fox is depressed now. That’s not very happy.”

“It was happy for those two, was it not?”

You roll your eyes, “It was. But a happy story should have a happy ending for everyone involved. That’s the point of a happy tale being told.” You counter as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Not everyone gets what they want in the end, Y/N. That’s just life, some are fine and persist while others turn and run with nothing of any significance still clinging to them.”

You sit there a moment in bewilderment, soon rising to float threateningly by the glass, “That’s ridiculous! A happy story should be fucking happy! Love is supposed to be kind and beautiful, not this wedge that turns people against one another and supports a game that shifts into jealousy and disdain for one.”

Loki hums, “Well it is just a story after all. Love does that because it isn’t truthful ever, it’s a fleeting thing without any weight that only causes pain and disappointment.”

Your brows soon furrow at these dark words, “Oh and what do you understand about love?” You hotly challenge, voice accusatory and fierce.

“That it isn’t real.” Mutters the prince with a casual shrug, though his face flashes with uncertainty.

You scoff, “Is it now? You think love is a simple lie? A trick from the universe to keep races existing until their worlds collapse?”

“Yes.” Nods the Asgardian, “That’s what I believe.”

You take a breath, feet slowly touching the cool tiled floor as you speak, “You have no idea what it feels like then. So how can you claim it to be false?”

Loki crosses his arms, “True love isn’t real because that just cannot be realistic in any sense Y/N. Same thing as feeling happy or when you sneeze….the feeling is a feeling like butterflies in your stomach when you get excited. But like every emotion given, it leaves and the feelings are dulled or just dissipate altogether.”

“You’re wrong.” You bitterly mutter, voice low and filled with a somber hurt.

“And how would I be wrong then?” He wonders, truly curious to see how on earth you are able to counter this. He doesn’t wholeheartedly believe in love, though his growing affections for you seem to have him conflicted. He still wants to know.

“It is like magic, to be in love.” You reply, a faint smile ghosting your lips as you press your hands against the glass, “It is bright and brilliant and beautiful. It does not come and go like a fleeting spark from a dying flame. Love, like magic, forms from within when let into someone’s vessel. It is a power that always remains no matter where the person travels, or how old they become. Love, in the end and always through existence will remain. No matter what.”

Loki could have shed a tear at your beautiful explanation, yet his stubbornness persists, “A fairytale. Nothing more.”

“A fairytale? A fucking fairytale!?” You shout, voice rising in fury, “You don’t know anything but the lies you tell yourself you heartless bastard! All I wanted was a happy story that made me smile before I’m executed! And you couldn’t even give me that you selfish prick of a man!”

Loki’s heart grows cold as a winters morning, he blinks, forgetting how to properly breath at your heated declarations. He steps closer to the thin glass, brows furrowed in puzzled apprehension, “You’re being executed?” He asks, tone low and thoughtful.

Face falling into a deep frown, you lower your head in shame, “I have been condemned to die for my crimes above. Guess they’re not so simple as I had first claimed.”

“What do you mean?”

You let out a telling sigh, “I didn’t try and take the queens jewels, I tried to murder her..”

“You what?!” Whispers the Asgardian prince, eyes wide in shock, “What do you mean?”

Your gaze keeps trained onto the floor, “I am…well, I was….an assassin. Who, ultimately could not force myself to murder your mother Frigga, so I let myself be caught and taken. It’s the least I deserve for the life I’ve led. This is just how it goes, and I’m ready.”

Loki’s mind races, he never even suspected such a thing coming from you. Sure you’re indeed a beautiful mystery of a person who enjoys levitating in her cell for the hell of it. But your appearance and pose never revealed someone capable of homicide as their profession, least of all you.

And now, his father is condemning you to death rightly so, but Loki can’t help but think you don’t truly deserve this fate. Maybe, just possibly, he’d feel like he was losing a close friend. Someone who he never had any intentions of developing these strange new feelings for.

“I won’t let him end your life.” Suddenly speaks the prince, “You didn’t kill her, you actively chose not to, so I believe he could sway his final decision.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Wishful thinking.” Just as three guards dressed in their true Asgardian golds walk to the front of your cell. Loki swallows, they dissipate the golden tinged force field, leaving you with nothing but air to keep you from their clutches.

“Y/N.” Softly calls the dark haired prince, voice small and desperate, he didn’t think they would take you so soon but what does he truly know anymore? Your sad eyes lock onto his as one guard snaps metal cuffs against your wrists, and another around your throat before he ushers you out.

Loki can’t tear his eyes from yours the whole time, and even after you’ve been dragged down the hallway and out of sight. He thinks, maybe you’ll return and it was all a big misunderstanding, a simple nightmare and he’ll wake any second now. But he knows this is foolish thinking, you’re never coming back. And he’s beside himself.

Loki bows his head in silent anguish, fists clenched tight as his heartbeat begins to race when suddenly he releases his grip and a small blast of green magic emits in the aftermath. Just enough power to knock some books onto the floor in protest. He doesn’t pick them up.

In the following days, Loki would pace around his cell like a nervous lion. Reading book after book to help pass the time though he couldn’t stop his racing mind from thinking about you. Where were you now? What had they done to you? Did it hurt?

He didn’t know and what’s worse is the guards only seemed to mock him about it, claiming your life was worth more dead then anything else. It stung like a heated iron spear left too long in the hot coals, he missed you beyond compare. How did you make him feel this way? When did that happen?

He missed your mischievous smile, your alluring eyes of curiosity and concealed chaos. The way you spoke to him like a person and not just a prisoner, or even a prince who’s disappointed his whole kingdom. You didn’t care, sure you lived to tease and pester him relentlessly, but you didn’t truly care about his current status.

You drew the attention out of him without even needing to try, brought a smile upon his face weather he was aware of it or not, and made him feel genuinely excited about waking up the next day. You became everything to him and more, and Loki hadn’t even realized this until it was too late.

But now you’re gone. And he will never see another Y/N for as long as he is to live.

Loki sits with his back against the wall, hair undoubtedly a wild mess closely matching that of the room about him. Books, clothing, furniture, and other personal belongings lay around his cell like the aftermath of a furious hurricane. He didn’t mean for this to happen, but when he got word that his mother was injured in the attack by the dark elves and freed prisoners. He new it was his fault, he led them to freedom after all.

With his mother healing from her non fatal wounds, and the loss of his dear Y/N to the axe. Loki has been doing less then tremendous these past few weeks, clearly. The prince now closes his weary eyes, breathing steadily as a new presence makes itself known across the golden tinged glass. He doesn’t care to look.

“Well don’t you look sad.” Teases a familiar voice, not condescending but just enough to make him laugh if he felt like it.

He opens his eyes to find your smirking face, body safe and sound wrapped in a cloak of white and intricately laced gold. How absolutely beautiful you are. His brows furrow as he mutters, “You’re just an illusion.” Voice horse and filled with doubt.

You raise a brow, “So is this?” You ask in reference to the clean cut illusion Loki is controlling, “I think not. I can see right through it.”

He forgot about the illusion he’s been creating since his breakdown, of course you’d see right through it, “You died. And my mother is hurt.”

“So you lost control within yourself and chose self deprecation? And apparently…chaos.” The trickster god rolls his tired eyes which causes you to chuckle, “I see my passing onto greater things has weakened your ego.”

He scoffs, “Your ghost form does not amuse me.”

Taking a glance down the vacant hallway, you step right through the golden tinged force field like it’s nothing more then air. “Loki Laufeyson, I am not a phantom or a dreary pigment of your imagination you foolish prick. I am Y/N, Goddess of Chaos and Magic. And someone who has missed you deeply.”

Loki frowns, blue eyes focused up at your truthful face as he sighs, “I….I don’t think I understand what is happening.”

You approach his side before kneeling down to reach his level, you two have never been this close before, “My tale was true as the forming of this realm itself. But your mother saw me for who I am, not what I have been enchanted to do with my life. So she gave me another chance to live, and so I did. To protect her and guard her until she deems otherwise, that’s why I’m still alive and that’s why your mother still has a beating heart.”

Loki reaches out for your hand that you gladly let him take, “Those prisoners..”

“I killed them. Every last one of those fuckers and the damn dark elves who attempted to crash their ship into the great hall. Let’s just say, it didn’t go according to their plans.” You explain, pausing for a moment to share a longing look with the Asgardian prince.

The corners of his lips rise into a soft smile, a deeply relieved one while you look down at your laced fingers, “Loki.” You whisper before drawing your head up to properly look at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m still counting on a better story.” You muse as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Unfortunately none of these books happen to provide a decent tale, my dear.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “In that case I’ll bring you all the books stuffed in that giant library. There’s bound to be a good one, something happy.”

“I’d like that.” Nods the prince.

You smile, “But I have to ask you one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Did you miss me?”

Loki squeezes your hand right back, “More then I’d ever missed anyone.” Reveals the dark haired prince as he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, though his fingers linger on your cheek a moment longer before he slowly pulls them away and into his lap.

You can’t help but snicker which causes his face to scrunch up in puzzled embarrassment. Immediately do you reach up to cup his cheek, “I felt the same way. And I think I might feel a bit more too, quit possibly a lot more. No. Yes definitely a lot more then I first led on from a few weeks ago in fact and all I must admit to you now Loki Laufeyson or Odinson..prince of Asgard I think I’d like to kiss you now if that’s okay with you.”

Loki blinks, did he hear you right? “oh.” He mumbles, clearly unsure of himself or whatever wonderful thing you just said.

You immediately remove your hand from his cheek, “Too soon. Sorry I just thought I read you right maybe I was wrong I can just leav….” You don’t even have a moment to finish your sentence when his lips press pleasantly against yours.

His hands hold your face while your own hands gently grip onto his forearms for support in your awkward positioning, with him sitting and you still crouched. But it matters not when his lips move in time with yours, he feels so lovely, like a hundred roses pressing against your skin.

Giving you that soft velvety feel, you could kiss him all day if he’d let you. Though soon enough the two of you must break for some air, and with that do you pull him to his feet while you float just inches off of the messy ground. Loki never once taking his hand away from yours.

“How can you….how can you do that?” Wonders the prince as he glances from the ground to your face.

You shrug, “How can you move things with your mind?”

He smiles, “I guess, I just can. A terribly lackluster explanation I know, but perhaps I’m not truly certain how either.”

“Well let’s not dwell on the unknown for too long, this moment right now is too sacred for anything else. And though I have to leave, I will return to you…..and next time with more books. Then you will have no choice then to read them all to me.”

Loki hums, “I don’t see a problem there.” Before whispering in your ear, “Maybe bring some wine, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

You share a bright grin, “As the spoiled prince asks, but it will cost you.”

Loki raises an intrigued brow, “Cost what?”

“A kiss. Before and after I do your bidding. Can you settle for those terms?”

Loki’s lips pull into an adorable smile, cheeks almost dusting pink at your new flash of boldness. He’s never met anyone quit like you in all his years alive. “I believe those terms are acceptable.”

You give him a wink, “Good. See you then.” And with that do you crash your lips against his for on more heated embrace before leaving one final kiss to his slender cheek and floating out of the cell you go. Stopping behind the glass to give your new lover one last fleeting look, “Miss me you prick.”

Loki smirks, “Always.”

[illegal-spiegel]

smoky ink

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x gn!reader Genre: fluff, crack?, vague smut Warnings: drunken tattoos w Denki, groping Summary: Playing truth or dare with Denki while you were drunk ends up being a huge mistake when you get a tattoo of something from one of your favorite heroes on your ass.  Word Count: 4k words A/N: Happy birthday, boom boom boy!!🥳❤️

1k Followers Event prompt #34 “Do I have to pull down my pants to show you?”

In hindsight, you should’ve known better than to play truth or dare with Denki while you were both drunk. Honestly, it’s your fault for giving in and playing the dumb game with him, again, while you’re drunk. 

“Truth or dare?” he asks, a sly smirk on his face. You’ve been picking truth this whole time, but you can only do truths five times before you’re out of truths. 

Deciding to just go ahead and get it over with, you sigh and give him a bored look as you say in the blandest voice possible, “Dare.”

He pretends to think about it as if he didn’t already know what he was going to dare you to do since he first asked you to play. “Tell Bakugou that you like him or get a tattoo with me. A tattoo of my choosing,” he offers, the smirk getting worse the more he speaks. 

You should’ve known. You honestly would’ve texted him, told him, and then lied, and said Denki did it, but you didn’t like the idea of him even wondering if you actually liked him, that there was a possibility of it. What if he reacted badly before you could even explain what had happened? 

Yeah, no thanks. 

“Let’s go get a tattoo then,” you state boldly as you stand up off your bed, already slipping on your shoes, albeit very slowly thanks to the alcohol in your system. He pouts at you as he lets out a long groan, his body flopping back onto your bed. 

“You’re so boring!” he whines, slowly bringing himself up to glare at you. 

“Oh, so should I dare you to tell a certain someone that you like them?” you challenge, a smirk of your own coming to your face. His face goes pink at your words, his head shaking left and right rapidly after a moment. 

“No,” he mumbles, getting off your bed and putting on his own shoes. Once you two are ready to go, you open up your door and step out into the hallway. Just as you’re shutting your door behind you both, Bakugou emerges from the door down the hall that leads to the stairwell. You make eye contact with him before his eyes shift to Denki who is standing behind you. 

Just as your door clicks shut, Denki wraps his arm around your shoulders and starts leading you down the hall towards him. Bakugou doesn’t wait a moment longer before walking down the opposite hall towards his bedroom. You let out a soft sigh as you reach the top of the stairs, slowly starting to climb down them. 

“Don’t look so down! Midoriya probably just pissed him off again or something,” he reassures, bumping his shoulder into yours. You force a smile to your face and direct it at him, bumping him back. 

“Race ya!” you shout before taking off down the steps, almost tripping several times. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Denki roars, swiftly following after you. You laugh loudly as you take two steps at a time, trying to beat him to the bottom. You both jump at the end, landing on the floor almost at the same time. 

You’re not sure who won though. 

“Ha! I won!” Denki boasts loudly, throwing his arms into the air. This makes you scoff, your hands finding their way to your hips while you try to regain some of the air you lost into your lungs. 

“As if! I clearly won that!” you claim, unsure if you’re even right or not. You both go back and forth the entire way out of the building, only waving to people you pass as a greeting since you’re so involved in your argument. 

Once you’re outside, you wrap your arm around Denki’s neck and tug him down to give him a noogie. He shouts and tries to pull away, but you keep a strong hold on him. “I yield! I yield!” he shouts, finally making you let him go with a satisfied grin on your face. 

“That’s what I thought.”

You two walk to the closest tattoo and piercing parlor, both of you bubbling with nerves and excitement. As you walk in, you take in the place with innocent, round eyes. 

“Alright! I’ll pick out your tattoo and you can pick out mine!” Denki informs before taking off to the opposite end of the shop. You chuckle softly as you watch him go, starting to walk around to look for available tattoos.

You end up choosing a Pikachu one for him, feeling satisfied with your choice. You just hope he is serious about this and doesn’t choose something completely ridiculous. 

Once you both have your tattoos, you each hide the tattoo you picked out from the other as you meet back in the middle. “I found the perfect one,” you say confidently. He chuckles as he secretly looks down at his phone. 

“Oh, I think mine is much better,” he chirps. You squint your eyes at him in suspicion but ultimately let it go, walking over to the artist that will be tattooing you both. 

“You’re first,” you tell him, wanting to make sure that he’s going to actually go through with this instead of just making you get one on your own. After arguing back and forth a couple of minutes, he eventually gives in. 

“Fine, coward,” he jabs, slowly taking his seat. You decide to let him pick where he wants it, knowing that if you don’t, he’ll choose a terrible spot for you in return. He ends up getting it on his chest, deciding to put it right on his right pec. 

“No peeking,” you declare as you show the artist what he’s getting. Denki huffs as he peels his shirt off, laying back in the chair and tilting his head back to make sure he doesn’t peek. 

To your surprise, Denki doesn’t nearly complain as much as you thought he would. Sure, he grunts and flinches every once in a while but all in all, he just quietly sits there, quietly looking up at the ceiling as the mechanical sound of the needle thrumming fills the room. Well, that is until the tattoo is completed. “Jesus! That hurt more than a buttcheek on a stick!” he exhales dramatically, quoting a video that he saw forever and a half ago. 

“Alright, no peeking until mine is done,” you remind, laughing lightly at his words while you take your seat. Denki playfully salutes you before pulling out his phone to show the artist what you’re getting as they clean up the equipment, and you can’t help the nerves that start spiking out of nowhere. 

“Where do you want it?” 

“Um, how big is it?” you tentatively ask, hoping Denki wouldn’t do something extreme. The artist looks over to Denki, silently asking him how big he wanted the piece to be. Denki furrowed his eyebrows as he thought over it for a moment, before lifting his hand and making a circle with his thumb and index finger. 

“About this big, I’d say,” he ultimately says. The circle is about as big around as the diameter of his wrist. You let out an audible sigh as you try to figure out what the tattoo he planned for you was going to be. You wanted to have a little more faith in your friend, you really did, but it was hard when that friend was a total jokester like Denki.

“Can I just get it on my ass?” you ask softly, letting out an awkward laugh to mask just how nervous you truly felt, but it doesn’t quite give the effect you hoped it would. The artist simply nods as Denki starts cackling in response. 

“Seriously, (Y/n)? Have some faith in me!” he teases between chuckles, knowing you only wanted it there to hide it. You glare over at him, slowly taking off your pants before folding them up and placing them off to the side to be out of the way. You turn to lay on your stomach, trying to ignore how warm your cheeks were getting out of the embarrassment of the situation.

“Damn, (Y/n)! What you doin’ out here with all that ass?” Denki jokes, making your blush worsen as you quickly whip your head around to shoot him a hard stare.

“Stop being such a pig and come hold my hand!” you hiss, the look you’re give him turning to one of pure ice when he just laughs and rounds the table to come sit in front of you. He finally takes your hand with a smirk, kissing the back of it. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes at him as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the pain that you were about to endure. When the needle first makes contact with your skin, you jump a bit and tighten your grip on Denki’s hand. You fight villains almost every day of your life and have almost died on numerous occasions, and yet, this seemed to hurt worse in comparison. Though, this definitely helps you sober up somewhat. After a while, you start to get used to the pain of the needle making passes over your skin and start to feel your muscles relax a bit, Denki further helping you relax as he distracts you by talking away. 

Once your tattoo is finally done, you slowly stand up and waddle over to the mirror with Denki. “On three. One, two, three!” You count down before turning to look over your shoulder at the tattoo. 

“Woah! It looks so good! Thanks, (Y/n)!” Denki cheers. You can’t bring your eyes away from your left ass cheek though, your mouth not cooperating with your brain. 

Sitting there, on your skin forever, might you add, is a tattoo of Bakugou’s green gauntlets surrounded by tiny explosions and smoke. You’re not sure how to react at first but it comes to you quickly. 

“I’m going to kill you!” you shout, noticing that he is already running away. You chase after him, without pants, by the way, for a moment before the tattoo artist asks you both to calm down. You clench your jaw together while walking back over to the artist, letting them properly wrap up both your and Denki’s tattoos. The entire time you were glaring at Denki though, swearing to yourself that you’ll really kill him this time. 

“You must be a big fan of Dynamight’s,” the artist comments as he finishes wrapping up your tattoo, your face heating further at his comment while Denki does his best to hide his laughter, and failing miserably.

Once you both pay and are good to go, Denki rushes out of the shop with you trailing not too far behind as you start to chase after him again, both of you having a lot of pent-up energy from sitting down for so long. Once you finally catch up to him, you grab him by the collar of his shirt so he can’t escape while you prepare yourself to clobber him. But before you can get a good swing in, he lifts his hands up in surrender, offering to take you out for food in exchange for not hurting his precious face. You shove him with a scoff, his hand coming up to rub the spot where you grabbed his collar from. 

“Fine. You’re paying for everything though.” 

Humming contently as you lead the way to find a good place to eat nearby.

After getting a fill of some food, the both of you start walking back to the dorms, before realizing that it’s been long enough for you to take off the plastic wrap covering your tattoo. You’ll ignore it for now though, deciding that you’ll do it once you get back into your room. You’ll probably cover it up again after getting a picture of it just to make sure it doesn’t get infected though.

“I can’t wait for Bakubro to see your tattoo. He’ll finally know how much of a fan you are,” Denki teases you as you two near the dorms. Your face warms as you raise your hand to hit him with a shout, making him yelp and take off again. 

“Come back here, you gremlin!”

You chase him all the way back, cursing and shouting at him the entire time as you try to catch him. You’re panting for air by the time you come inside, trying to ignore the stares everyone is giving you. Denki is breathless from running but somehow still manages to laugh at your angry face. He crashes down into a seat beside Kirishima and leans against him for support. You glare daggers at him while you stomp on over, ready to throw hands with him. 

“What’s going on with you two?” Jiro asks with a raised brow, looking between you and the electric blonde.  

“Nothing!” You answer quickly, your face flaming with heat. No one can find out about your new tattoo. No one. 

“Awe come on, don’t be shy, (Y/n)!” Denki teases, wiping tears of joy away from his eyes. 

“Shut it, Denki!” you shout back, hitting his shoulder with as much force as you can muster. 

“Ow! Hey! Quit it!” he shouts before flicking your forehead. 

“No, you quit it!” you retort, flicking him right back. 

You two go back and forth until Bakugou, who you failed to notice until now, directs a glare at you both with a shout.

“Will the two of you extras shut up? Why are you even arguing in the first place?” he roars, making you both fall quiet. You, obviously, didn’t plan on answering that but you should’ve known that Denki would. 

“(Y/n) got a tattoo!” Denki screeches out before you can stop him, gathering everyone’s attention. 

“Did not! He did!” You shout right back, hoping no one can tell how flustered you are. 

“What? No way! You got a tattoo? Let me see it!” Mina gasps before clambering up to tug at your shirt collar and sleeves to try and find where it’s at. 

“I can’t!” 

“Yes, you can!” 

“I can’t, Mina!”

“Why not?” she whines, tugging on your shirt like a toddler now. You go quiet at that, trying to think of a good lie to tell her. 

“Because she got it on her ass!” Denki declares, making you whip around to glare at him. 

“Why you—” you start as you jump for him, his eyes widening as he quickly hops up to run away again. You can’t even chase after him either thanks to Mina grabbing your arm and dragging you towards your room with a few of the others you’re close with in tow. 

“I want to see it right now!” she shouts, almost making you trip from how fast she’s walking. Once in the safety of your room, you tug your pants down enough to show them your new tattoo. 

“Oh my god…”

“(Y/n)!”

“I can’t believe it!”

“I know. It’s terrib—” you start to say before someone else cuts you off.

“It’s so good!” 

“Yeah, it looks great!”

“What?” you ask in shock, feeling your jaw drop in surprise. Are they serious right now? It’s embarrassing! 

“It looks so good! I want to get one now!”

“Where did you go?” You can’t even take any of them seriously right now. 

“Guys, it’s a disaster!” Mina rolls her eyes at you, moving to sit on your bed as she looks at your tattoo again. 

“It is not. Stop being so dramatic.”

“I’m not! What if Bakugou finds out? He might kill me!” 

“If, (Y/n), if he finds out,” she replies with a smirk, leaning back on her hands. You stare at her for a long moment before slowly nodding your head back at her, your shoulders starting to relax. 

“Right, yeah, if he finds out,” you reply with a sigh, pulling your pants back up and laying down onto your bed with a sigh. 

What you all forgot about was a crucial detail though. That detail is a loudmouth blond who is one for drama and pranks. 

You don’t even realize you fell asleep until you hear swift knocking at your door. You groggily sit up and rub at your eyes, finding everyone is already gone. You must’ve fallen asleep sometime after laying down and they let themselves out. 

You bring yourself out of your short daze when the knocking swiftly returns much louder this time. “Yeah, I heard you the first time!” you quip as you climb out of bed, mad that you’ve been woken up from such a nice sleep. 

When you open the door, Bakugou is the last one you would’ve thought to be on the other side. You silently gape at him for a second, having trouble finding what to say. A simple ‘hello’ would’ve been fine, but you couldn’t even muster that up. 

Your eyes widen further when he pushes past you into your room, your eyes finally blinking. “Sure, come on in,” you mumble sarcastically and close the door, turning to face him only to find him already staring at you. 

“Is it true?” he asks vaguely, your half-asleep brain still trying to fully wake up and process what’s going on. 

“What?” is all you can find to say in response. 

“Is it true you got a tattoo of me?” he further asks, his eyes staring deeply into yours to gouge your reaction. All at once, you become a blushing and stuttering mess. 

“What? No! Of course not! Who gave you that crazy idea?” you sputter, pressing yourself back against the door. 

“Denki did. He told me that you two went to go get them earlier,” Bakugou further explains, taking a step closer to you. The room suddenly feels too warm for your liking, the air becoming dry in your lungs. 

“Well, Denki is a liar…” you mumble, looking away from him. You make a mental note to literally kill Denki later. 

“Show me.”

“What?” you ask, your eyes snapping back to his face to find that he is quite serious. 

“Show me the tattoo,” he demands, his voice becoming a tad bit softer than before. You gulp at his commanding voice, starting to shake your head and press yourself further into the door. 

“No.”

“Why not?” he asks, his brows knitting together. Why does he seem surprised?

“Because I can’t,” you explain, watching his brows now furrow downward. 

“Yes, you can.”

“No, Bakugou, I can’t. Just let it go,” you reply with a sigh, looking away from his eyes once more to look down at his shoes. 

“No, I’m not letting it go. It’s of me anyway, isn’t it? You’re required to show me,” he pushes, taking another step towards you and getting into your personal bubble. 

You place your hands onto your hips with a huff and shift your gaze to his, glaring up at him. “Do I have to pull down my pants to show you to get you to shut up?” you hiss, feeling your face become as hot as an inferno. 

He crosses his arms over his chest and glares down at you. “I guess you have to,” he sasses, making you angrily frown at him. 

“Fine!” you snap before turning around and tugging your pants just far enough to reveal your tattoo. You don’t hear him say anything or even gasp, your heartbeat in your ears the only sound that you can hear. You wearily look over your shoulder to look at him, your breath catching in your throat when you see the look on his face.

His eyes have drooped and become half-lidded as he stares down at it, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You don’t dare speak, afraid that if he turns that look onto you, you won’t be able to control yourself. 

You don’t have to speak though since he can feel your heavy gaze on him. When his eyes shift up to meet yours, you wonder if he actually stopped breathing or if your mind is playing tricks on you. His eyes go back down though and a gasp rips out of you when his warm fingers gently graze over the tattoo. 

“Why?” he suddenly asks, your frazzled mind barely catching what he said. Your brain is deciding to focus more on how his fingers don’t seem to be leaving your ass anytime soon. 

“Why what?” you stutter out, followed by a gulp when his other hand moves to gently clasp your hip. 

“Why do you have a tattoo of me on your ass?” he whispers into your ear, his body heat radiating through you to your very core. You shiver and turn your head forward again, pressing your forehead to the wall to help ground yourself. 

“Denki picked it out,” you explain, sucking your lip into your mouth. He grunts at your answer and pulls away from you, making you turn around to face him in search of his touch again. 

“Denki? That’s it? No other reason?” he asks, his eyes not meeting yours. Your brows knit together at his question, your mind racing at what he could have possibly wanted to hear. It couldn’t be-

“Well, he’s technically not the only reason,” you mumble, distracting yourself by looking off to the side where a picture of the gang rests on your bedside table. You remember that day like it was yesterday. You all had decided to go to the beach and the picture was taken right as the sun hit the water on the horizon. You got a stranger to take the photo for you and Denki had shoved you and Bakugou together. By looking at the picture, you can just remember how warm your face had gotten being pressed against his side like that. It only got hotter when he had wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“So what’s the other reason then?” he asks, stepping to the side to block your vision from whatever you were staring at. 

“Why do you think?” you quip. 

“I’m guessing it’s because you have a fat crush on Dynamight,” he teases, his usual smirk finding its way onto his lips. 

“Maybe I do, what about it?” you sass, giving him your own smirk, even though you’re secretly dying on the inside from embarrassment.

“Well, it’s a good thing he likes you back, seeing as how you got a tattoo of him on your ass,” he bluntly replies, forcing his way into your personal space once more, but this time he presses his front against yours. 

You both stare into the other’s eyes, trying to decipher what the other’s next move is going to be. Almost at the same time, you both surge forward and smash your mouths together. The kiss unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, a new fire igniting in both of you. It’s quite sloppy, your teeth gnashing together and angrily biting the other’s bottom lip. 

His rough hands squeeze your hips as he pulls you closer to his body, grinding himself into you. One hand wanders and immediately heads for the tattoo that you hid from him after he first touched it. He aggressively kneads the cheek without the tattoo, tracing over the image under your jeans with his other hand. 

“Mind if I get a better look at it?” he breathlessly inquires, his hooded eyes meeting yours. Instead of verbally responding, you connect your lips together once more, urging his hands to the front of your jeans to tug them back down your legs again. He does so with ease, only pulling away from your hips to peel them down your legs. He cups you through your underwear, giving a low chuckle when you let out a whimper.

“More,” you beg, impatiently tugging your underwear down just enough for him to see how ready you are for him. He lets out a satisfied hum and brings his hands down to your bare ass to give each cheek a firm squeeze, being mindful of the tattoo that’s towards the top. A loud whine escapes you before you can trap it, his lips finding their way to your neck. 

“Why don’t you lie down on the bed on your hands and knees to give me a better view of that tattoo?” he mumbles against your skin, his ears being met by a complying moan in response.

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More with Bakugou

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[featherfur]

I’m going to try and make sense with this so bear with me: I think a lot of untapped angst potential in fic is the reality of Jiang Cheng being the older one now and visibly more mature because Wei Wuxian died at 20? 19? And he wasn’t exactly maturing in the ghost realm during that considering he doesn’t remember it. Now he’s definitely matured via trauma but that’s not the same thing. And now they’re 16x on the wrong wave length.

Under the read more because uh, I go into detail

Now put Jiang Cheng in the same room as Wei Wuxian and they’re both 12, atleast in the beginning. But Jiang Cheng had his previously homicidal insane brother show up right next to his nephew after insulting his mom (who’s death he inadvertently led too) so JC (for me atleast) can be forgiven a bit for not being happy and wanting to kick his ass and thinking he may still be insane because an Okay Wei Wuxian Would Not Insult Shijie or His Nephew. Especially since JC not only didn’t tell the entire world that his brother was back, left him with Jin Ling, only yelled at him a bit and scared him via dog and— (I’m going to shut up here because that isn’t my point but man I could go on). JC had a lot of issues and he yells at Wei Wuxian to the point one wants to offer him a cough drop.

But post Temple JC? Who watched him walk away sadly and knows that Wei Wuxian is no longer unstable and thinks he doesn’t want to be his brother anymore? That’s so much wonderful angst because that means Wei Wuxian will not be greeted by Jiang Cheng his Shidi anymore.

He will be met with Sect Leader Jiang who clawed his way up from nothing but a baby in his right, a stack of spreadsheets on his left and the most feral disciples around that he has to protect. This Sect Leader who doesn’t have time to go around hunting Wei Wuxian down to harass him. Sect Leader Jiang who barely even greets Wei Wuxian when he visits because he has shit to do. He has audits and taxes and those damn merchants are complaining, he has to up the wages of the seamstresses that make the robes of his sect with so many protection talismans and find a way to convince Sect Leader Ouyang to stop fine-ing the caravans that deliver the goods. He has to organize the celebrations and make sure everyone’s safe during flooding season. That’s not even counting how he has to train and monitor his disciples and night hunts and the political hellscape!

But Wei Wuxian!! He doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know everything that Jiang Cheng has been taking care of or that he’s just seriously that busy. He thinks he’s being ignored and pushed away and mocked when Jiang Cheng walks by with a quick “Master Wei” and runs off! Because how could Jiang Cheng treat him like that when Wei Wuxian is clearly trying to reconnect. Every offer of night hunting his declined unless it was planned then already and when they do get together Jiang Cheng ignores him! Why is Wei Wuxian even trying!? What’s the point of Jiang Cheng can’t stand him but why can’t he stop trying either??

Meanwhile during those hunts Jiang Cheng is trying to keep an eye on his brother, his twelve disciples, Jin Ling and his entourage, Wei Wuxian’s Lan ducklings, that random Ouyang kid who apparently imprinted on Jin Ling, figure out what they’re hunting, mentally running the math for the cost of the inns for all of them, going through each of the attending Jiang disciples’ personal likes and deciding on whether to buy their favorite snacks or something else as a ‘thank you for not dying’ as has become accidental custom, trying to figure out if it’s weird to get Jin Ling and his friends something nice (CLEARLY he has to get the Ouyang kid something, he apparently has no other friends considering how often he’s just hanging around Lotus pier whenever Jin Ling swings by), and trying to think of he has any other disciples night hunting within a 50 mile radius he should fly out to check on before he sleeps!

Clearly Wei Wuxian just doesn’t care about the Jiang sect and wants to just be annoying but Jiang Cheng is busy! Cant he see that Jiang Cheng is only available on Mondays and Tuesdays during the odd months and Wednesday through Saturday on the even? It’s very clear when Jiang Cheng has time! Why can’t his brother just respect that not everyone has the free time to do whatever the hell they want? Is he flaunting it?!? How dare he!

It’s a giant mess and it only gets worse because Jiang Cheng is diplomatic, he knows how to bow his head when he’s overpowered (though he rarely is nowadays) or when the outcome isn’t worth it. So he doesn’t want to start a fight with Lan Wangji and from there the entire Lan Sect! He’s been holding his tongue for years he can keep doing it, especially if his brother’s happiness is on the line. He can ignore Lan Wangji being rude, he can ignore the dark looks, hell if he thinks Wei Wuxian’s position is threatened at the LAN’s he’ll even play real fucking nice so that Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen won’t do anything to his brother. He did it for Yanli he’ll do it now. (Also added bonus of now Sizhui has started to warm up to him and so he has to be extra polite so his new nephew doesn’t hate him and his free nephew [Jingyi] doesn’t light a building on fire in revenge for someone looking at Hanguang-Jun wrong). He might have snapped at Hanguang-Jun when shit was going down but now Lan Xichen is in seclusion and Jiang Cheng can’t piss odd Lan Wangji no matter how much he wants to chuck a beehive at his head

But Wei Wuxian doesn’t it take it that way! He just sees his brother suddenly calling him Master Wei and won’t interact with him during meetings or before or after and he’s acting so cold towards Lan Zhan! He’s staring right through his brother in law and keeps acting like he doesn’t exist and the only time in the last month Jiang Cheng sought him out was!! To ask!! If he!! COULD HIRE WEI WUXIAN?!? NOT EVEN TO SAY HI OR CHECK ON HIM OR FINALLY ANSWER HIS LETTERS BUT TO ASK HIM TO CREATE TALISMANS FOR THEIR CLOTHES! (Of course he said yes though because hey money and it’s actually fun chatting with the seamstresses) but that’s all his shidi cares about?? What Wei Wuxian can do for him? He doesn’t care about Wei Wuxian at all! Why does Jiang Cheng keep hating him, he thought they were atleast neutral but he keeps going further and further away!!! Wei Wuxian is hurting and his little brother wants nothing to do with him!

Neither of them are IN the wrong but they’re both wrong.

It takes until someone, probably Lan Xichen or Nie Huiasang, points out that “Wei Wuxian… He’s not your shidi anymore, he’s your Sect Leader well a Sect Leader… he’s a Sect Leader to one of the biggest Sects, he’s busy it’s tax season. I wouldn’t want to interact with anyone either.”

Meanwhile Jin Ling or a random slightly more insane then the rest Jiang disciple interrupts Jiang Cheng’s lunch to go “Okay you’re making this worse on literally everyone, Wei Wuxian is clearly trying to make this work why are you being mean? He’s trying!” (Or much more polite for the disciple)

They have to meet up and actually talk things through and honestly *that* only works because Lan Xichen grabs them both by their metaphorical ears and sits them down because “I would like my brother in law, both of them, to stop crying to me because they can’t talk. So now we’re going to learn to communicate and if either of you makes this weird I WILL just start fluting my way out of it and you’ll feel bad.” (Actually he just sits them down together while and he and Jiang Cheng have to go over payments for the next batch of trades and Wei Wuxian passes out on Jiang Cheng halfway through and when he wakes up he swears to never bother him on a work day because that was the worst moment of his life and they end up repairing enough to start the trek to being brothers again

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Spencer Reid x Reader

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.”                  

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.”                       

PART ONE HERE

A/N: It came out fast!!! I had lowk already started it, so that’s why this update came so quickly. Please don’t expect them all to come this fast LMAO. I usually write slow as fuck. Anyway, I really hope you guys like this part so I can maybe just maybe turn this into a mini series. Please lmk if you guys like :) 

CONTENT WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF SEX (lmk if i missed any please) 

I paced the bullpen as the team spoke to Penelope. The shock of her pregnancy was starting to wear off, and now I could think more clearly. How could she? What was she thinking? 

Recently, I’d found myself thinking about it more, a baby her and a mini-me. A family of my own, with the love of my life. It was exciting and like a lovesick fool it made my stomach fuzzy. But she wasn’t ready and I couldn’t do that to her. So how could she do it to herself? She hadn’t finished school, hadn’t started her career. She could barely take care of herself! I wasn’t mad, absolutely not. Just disappointed at her self-sabotage and the fact she’d made the decision completely without me. I couldn’t think about it for long though, because I was swiftly reminded by my surroundings that right now, there was a chance I’d lose her, our child and any children we wanted to have in the future. That was the priority. 

“Garcia, check her credit card records, we need to see where she last was.” Hotch said. 

“Uhm, okay,” Penelope took a deep breath while clicking away, “Let’s see. Her last purchase was last night, 6:49 at a CVS Pharmacy, oh--” 

“What Garcia?” Hotch asked. 

“She was um, picking up her monthly case of birth control.” 

JJ broke the silence, “Spence…” she started towards me. 

I breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank god.” 

“Thank god?” Morgan questioned. 

“She’s 23.” I wiped my face, “Whole life ahead of her.” The team understood what I was trying to say. Rossi’s hand fell on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“So why would she tell Brook she was?” Garcia asked. 

“I uh, I..I don’t know.” I spat out. I really had no idea.  

“Think Reid.” Rossi told me. “You guys ever talk about kids or pregnancy?”

“She might be trying to send us a message,” Emily added. 

I thought back to the last time we discussed starting a family. 

--FLASHBACK-- 

We were surrounded by timeless pieces of art and history, and yet the true masterpiece was still her. She was always beautiful to me, a perfect being, truly. But today, something about the way she looked today specifically, made her look like the kind of beauty you see in a painting. Had she been a painting, her creator must have been skilled. Each stroke of his brush creating every divine curve of her face and body to produce a work of magnificent art, one that I so proudly hung on the walls of my heart. 

I remember exactly what she wore, and how it felt to take it all off. The painter had an eye for color. Her denim skirt, the length or lack thereof making me embarrassingly wary, was blue like the Mediterranean Sea, complementing the pigment of the skin of her legs. A white button down made of silk, not worn properly, of course. Too many buttons were left open at the top, as to draw attention to the gold adorned on her chest, but in the spell of temptation she procured to cast upon me, my eyes wandered to admire territories of her body they shouldn’t have. Not in public, at least. The buttons at the bottom were left untouched as well, revealing the soft skin of her stomach. She looked like an angel, but of course, went out of her way to instead be my temptress.

My affinity for her beauty aside, the wide eyes in delight at the museum artifacts and careful attention to my commentary were what made our excursion wonderful. The feeling of her smaller hand in mine, and the giggles and the teasing “You’re way too nerdy to be so stupid hot Dr. Reid.” made it absolutely perfect. 

In exchange for her listening so attentively to my historical facts and stories, I took her for ice cream. She insisted we ate it on the greens of Lincoln Park. Who was I to deny her that? What came next--I expected. She’d devoured it. Made a mess of strawberry ice cream on her white shirt. 

“It was the wind!” She insisted as the first of many drips of ice cream fell down her chin. 

“No it was not!” I argued back while wiping it, “You just never learned how to eat ice cream properly.” I gently removed the cone from her hands and into mine, taking an overzealous bite. “This, lovey, is how you eat ice cream.” 

“Give it back, you...you dickass!” She snorted. We laughed like two lovesick teenagers. 

“Dickass?” I asked, eyes watery from laughter. 

“Yeah dickass, give me back my damn ice cream.” I took another bite, “Stop! You’re eating it all!” She pouted. Pouts were unfortunately my weakness and I handed it back to her. However, in her rush, the pink scoop had fallen directly on her blouse. 

“Way to prove my point,” I started to take off my cardigan, “You want dickass’s sweater?” 

She wanted to be mad but couldn’t contain the wince of a smile. “Please.” 

We carefully removed her shirt from under while simultaneously putting the cardigan in its place. 

“Spence don’t let me flash! There’s kids and judgmental old ladies here!” 

I laughed and shushed her, “I know, I know.” I moved all the fabrics quickly and it was done. Her sticky pink shirt was replaced with my soft sweater. “There.” 

“My hero,” She kissed me, “Truly.”

She leaned back on our picnic blanket on her shoulders as we observed our fellow park goers. “So many kids.”  

I nodded my head in agreement. “Yeah…” 

“We should bring our kids here one day.” she said, instantly breaking my haze from the crowd so I could only see her. 

I smiled again at the thought, “Yeah, and tell them how their mom is the world's clumsiest ice cream eater.”

She looked at me with disdain before shoving her shoulder into mine. “Shut up.” 

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.” 

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.” 

I toppled her so we were laying down, facing each other. She kissed me hard, and my hands went to the sides of her face, only pulling back to say “I can’t wait for it, you know. My two little girls.” 

She smiled, “But I’ll always be your favorite right?” she asked sarcastically. 

I laughed, “Oh of course. Always.” 

“I’ll have a big ol’ belly, you know.” I nodded, “You’d still be perfect.” 

“We’d have to go to the mall, buy me a shitload of new clothes. Do ya know how dirty malls are Spence?” I winced at the thought of thousands of strangers bacteria on every surface and she laughed, “Got ya.” I shook my head, “Nope! I uh, I’ll just bring hand sanitizers and uh, to the Maternity section we’ll go.” 

“Non-stop Panda express eating.” I nodded again, “I’ll be non-stop Panda Express buying, then.” She smiled so hard her nose scrunched. 

“I love you Spencer.” 

“I love you too. I am so in love with you.” 

--FLASHBACK ENDS--

“Yeah but it was trivial.” I said. 

“Maybe not,” Hotch argued, “Was anything mentioned specifically?” 

“A name she liked?” Prentiss added, “Maybe a craving she thought she might have? Anything at all?” 

I nodded, “Not a food, but a fast food place. Panda Express.” I doubted that would be helpful. 

“It’s a stretch but, Garcia, check for any dilapidated buildings within 10 miles of a Panda Express.” 

“Yes sir,” She typed away and then said, “No, guys. I’m sorry. All of our Panda Express’s are in pristine malls or new developments.” 

“Mall!” I shouted, “She said we’d have to go to the mall! She knows I hate the mall.” 

Morgan pointed at us, “The tiles in that room look like they could be from some 80’s Bloomingdales.” 

“Garcia-” I said. 

“Already on it.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pregnancy ruse was either going to get me killed, or save my life. It was a moment of panic and I just wanted to throw her off. I know it did, but in what direction? 

She was still crying, her demeanor with me was still laced with bitter animosity, but she was calmer now. 

“How long have you known?” Brook asked, the contents of her flask now empty and her words slurred. 

“I found out yesterday.” I lied through my teeth. 

She shrugged her shoulders, “Had you guys talked about it?” 

“Vaguely.” I admitted. 

“What’d Spencer want? Boy or girl?” I debated on whether or not to say, and she caught on. “Don’t fucking lie.” She stated harshly. 

“Girl.” I breathed out. “He wants a girl.” 

“What do you want?” she asked. 

“I don’t care.” I said. That was true. 

“How come?” 

“I just want to start a family with him. Don’t really care about the gender…” That was true as well. 

“Oh.” she nodded her head, “Why’d he want a girl?” It was strange, her  genuine curiosity. It freaked me out, but my alternative was being stabbed. I chose to just answer her questions, regardless of how much I really did not want to.  

“He liked the idea of a little girl who looked like me.” 

She winced, eyes tearing up further. “Right.” I was beginning to realize her feelings were very real. 

“You really like him, don’t you?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t help it. My head was still looking for an answer as to how she could be driven to do something like this. 

She clasped her hands together, her anger returning.  “Don’t fucking start. You know nothing of what I feel for Spencer.” She came up closer and tugged at my hair, “Fucking nothing.” 

“Okay,” I grimaced at the pain from the force at which she pulled my hair, “I-I’m sorry.” 

She let go, “You should be. You really, really fucking should be.” She sat back down, pensive for a while. I wish I knew what she was thinking about. 

My heart had not stopped it’s fast pace ridden with anxiety since I gained full awareness of my situation, but now, it felt like it was going to burst through my chest. Was she planning on just killing me now? 

My anticipation ceased when she got up and brought back the camera with her again. “Hello BAU. There has been a change in plans. Your beloved,” The words reeked of sarcasm, “Y/N here, will be returned eventually. . She’s gonna be fine. However, it is now in everybody best interest if this video feed was cut out. Sorry.” She said before mouthing, “No I’m not.” She shut the camera off. 

She turned to me, “I hate you. Fucking despise you.” Figures. 

“But I would never hurt Spencer. Or his child. Even if it is being carried by a whore like you.” 

She began to pace once more, “You’re obviously a mistake on his part. You clearly tricked him with sex and...no just sex I think. You're not really smart enough to be capable of anything else. Regardless, he’s probably already thinking about abortions or adoption. There’s no way in hell a man like him could ever want to start a family with a girl like you.” She shook her head, “Absolutely not.” 

I could only nod my head at her delusions. This woman was so far up her ass. 

She pinched my cheeks together with her cold hands, “You tried to trap him. How’d that go for you?” 

I was silent.

“I asked you a fucking question!” She held my face impossibly tighter. 

“Poorly.” I got out, “Poorly.” 

“In 9 months, I’ll help you deliver your baby. And then, you can go.” Brook backed away and let go of her tight grip on my face. “I’m keeping the kid. Raising it.” She smiled, “I’ll be the mother Spencer’s child will deserve. And then-” A giggle creepily reminiscent of a schoolgirl’s left her throat, “He’ll love me!” 

Brooks intention had twisted from wanting to murder and torture me as revenge for “taking” Spencer, to a now twisted maternal desire for his (hypothetical) child. But if Spencer and his team couldn’t find me before the time I was supposed to be showing, I was fucked. Utterly fucked. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Taglist: @britishspidey

(Let me know to be added)

[rowyn-writes]

Star Struck (Castiel x Angel!Reader)

Warnings: Language, a splash of angst, a little bit of fluff, make out scene

Pairings: Castiel x Angel!Reader

Characters: Cas, Sam, Dean, Gabriel, Jack (mentioned only) Mary (mentioned only)

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: When the Winchester's and Cas call on you for your help, Cas can't help but be star struck by your presence.

Requested by: @danitisx

You roamed the streets Dublin, Ireland. Fascinated by the beautiful scenery and amazing culture.

"It's wonderful, isn't it?" A handsome man beside you asked.

"Indeed." You agreed. "Do you live around here?"

"Yeah, just up the road a couple of blocks. I've lived here my entire life. What about you? Where are you from?"

"Uh," You laughed as you scratched the back of your head. "I'm from the States. New York." You decided. It's not exactly like you could tell him you were an Archangel from Heaven.

"I'm Charlie, by the way." He gave you a cheeky grin.

"Y/N." You introduced yourself.

"Would you like to go out for a drink?"

"I would l-" You broke off as you felt a strange tug on your body. "Damn."

You were surrounded by a circle if Holy fire. You took in your surroundings. You seemed to be in some sort of emergency bunker. "What in Dad's name." You mumbled. "Alright, whoever summoned me here, if you don't show yourself, I'll smite you!" You growled, trying your best to be intimidating.

"Y/N." A soft voice said.

You whirled around to see a familiar angel. "Castiel." You breathed. "You're the one who summoned me here? Why?" You tilted your head to the side, similar to how Castiel would do whenever he was confused.

Two other familiar men emerged from around the corner. "Winchester's. Hello."

"Y/N. Good to see you again." Sam nodded.

"Ya know, if you wanted me here so badly, you could've called instead of summoning me here with a ring of holy fire. Which, by the way, is extremely uncomfortable."

"Sorry," Dean shrugged, throwing a glass of water, extinguishing the fire. "Precautionary measure."

"Fair enough." You slid off your black over coat and set it on the back of a chair. "So, what can I do for you boys? Do you need an elixir of some sort? An herb, perhaps? A spell?"

"They need some of your grace."

Your eyes darted from Castiel's over to him. You thought he was dead, long dead. This didn't make sense.

"You."

"Me." Gabriel smirked. "Hello, little sister. Long time no see."

"Yeah," You scoffed, raising your voice. "Long time no see because you dumbass got yourself killed by our brother! Or so I thought. Because to me, you look perfectly fine."

You trembled with anger. You had thought your brother was dead. You mourned him for so long. You cried for him, and there he was, alive and healthy. For now.

"Y/N-" He sighed.

"No! You don't get to talk, asshat!" You growled. "You let me believe you were dead for years! I cried for you, I prayed to you, to Dad! And there you are, fine and dandy."

Sam, Dean and Cas stepped back a little, giving you and your brother some space. Out of everyone, they understood family problems.

"You son of a bitch!" You screamed, using your powers to slam Gabriel into a wall. He gave out a small grunt as his back hit the cold brick wall. "You let me think you were dead! How could you?!" You clenched your fist, making it harder for Gabriel to breathe. "You were my best friend! My brother! And you heard how much pain I was in and decided to let me keep suffering! You insufferable dick!" Your eyes were glowing a bright blue.

"Y/N!" Castiel called your name, trying to calm you down. "Y/N! Stop." He rested a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You need to calm down. Let Gabriel explain."

"You guys have ten minutes to explain everything that's going on before I get my ass out of here and never come back."

The men sat you down and explained everything that happened in your absence. Including your nephew.

"You're telling me Lucifer has a son?" You questioned. "Someone actually wanted to have sex with my brother?"

"Uh, well, Kelly thought that Lucifer was the President." Sam coughed.

"The Presid-" You cut yourself off. "Okay. . . Clearly I've missed a lot. So, you want me to give you some of my grace in order to get Jack and your mother back?"

"Yes." Dean nodded. "You're our only option left. Gabriel tried to help, but most of his grace was drained by Asmodeus and it'll take time to replenish."

"Fine. I'll help."

"Really?" Cas said hopefully. "You'll help us?"

"Of course." You gave him a gentle smile. "Jack is my nephew after all. He needs a female figure in his life. And I refuse to let him be corrupted by Lucifer. My brother won't have any contact with Jack if I can help it."

"Why do you care so much about Jack?" Dean asked, his eyebrows furrowed. "You've never met him."

"Doesn't mean I love him any less. He's family. And until recently, I thought everyone I loved was dead. So I can deal with the fatigue and snappiness that comes with losing some of my grace."

"Thank you." Cas said gratefully. "Thank you so much."

"Okay." You took a deep breath. "Could I get some help with extracting my grace? I'd do it myself, but I can be a bit squeamish." You looked over at the beautiful blue eyed man in a trench coat. "Would you help me?"

"Oh," Cas seemed to be flustered. "O-of course." 

You grabbed the tool and headed into an empty bedroom. "Okay, let's get this over with." You said, pushing your hair to one side of you shoulder to let Castiel extract your grace. "Just. . . Be gentle, okay?"

Cas nodded, still seeming unnerved. "You're scared. Why?"

"Well. . . You're one of the most powerful angels to ever walk the earth. You were one of God's favorites and most trusted. You led an entire army of angels into battle with demons. You banished the Princes of Hell back into Hell. You're amazing!"

You gave Cas a soft smile. "That's very sweet of you, Castiel. But I'm not the same angel anymore. I'm certainly not Father's favorite anymore. He was the one that cast me out of Heaven after he found out I had relations with a human. I'm not amazing. I'm ordinary."

"Well, you're extraordinary to me. You're helping us get Jack and Mary back. Even though you don't have to."

"It's the least I can do." You dismissed him with a wave of your hand. "You and the Winchester's have saved the world more than once. Granted, you almost ended it as well, but at least you fixed it. Plus, I can tell these people mean a lot to you."

"They do. They're my family."

"And I'm very happy that you've found your family, Castiel." You cupped his face in both of your hands. "You were a wonderful servant to Heaven, and an even better leader when the time came. You deserve to be happy after all the havoc that's happened to you." You pulled away, resting your hands in you lap.

"You would have been far better than I was. You are a good angel, and an amazing leader."

"I'm no better than Lucifer."

"Y/N," Castiel said in astonishment. "You are nothing compared to Lucifer. You are compassionate and kind. You care about people."

"But when the world was ending, I was off galavanting around the world. And when people were in danger and dying, I turned a blind eye and let it all happened!" You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks. "If I don't help, then I'm part of the problem, Castiel. I yelled at Gabriel for disappearing, but I did the exact same thing. I left, I left Heaven, my brother's, all of the other angels, I left them. For a jackass human that never really loved me. So you ask me why I'm doing this for you? I'm doing it because I've never done anything good in my existence. Ending that war with the demons, sure, it saved humans in the long run, but I never cared about that. I was just following Dad's orders. Like a good little soldier."

"Y/N," Cas began.

"Just. . . Take my grace. . . Please?"

Castiel frowned as he gingerly brushed your hair aside. "This might sting." He warned as he plunged the extractor into your neck. You winced, gripping your leg in order to cope with the pain. Cas ended up getting five vials filled with your grace.

"It should replenish eventually, but it might take some time."

You went to stand up, but immediately felt lightheaded. Cas came behind you, holding you up. You inhibitions were lowered when you lost grace, and this time was no exception.

"Has anyone ever told you you have the most beautiful eyes?" You smiled. "They're like the ocean."

Castiel's face tinted pink and he gave a sheepish grin. "Thank you, Y/N. You have very beautiful eyes as well."

"Is that the only thing you find attractive about me, Castiel?" You ran a finger along the length of his arm.

"I- Um. . ." The angel was flustered once again. "Well, o-of course there are other things attractive about you. You're gorgeous. Your lips are perfect, t-they look very soft."

"Why don't you find that out yourself." You smirked. You pulled Cas down by his tie, his lips meeting yours.

Castiel was hesitant at first, and you knew he never really understood kissing. You moved your lips against his, and he finally understood. You didn't even know you had been moving until your back hit the brick wall.

You hands got tangled in his dark hair, while his wrapped around your waist.

There was a loud bang at the door, making Cas pull away from you. "If you're done making out with my sister, we kind of need this show on the road." Gabriel called from the other side of the door.

"Cockblocker." You grumbled. "That was one hell of a kiss, Cas. We should do it again sometime." You gave him a wink as you headed back to the library.

"I need a cold shower."

[bamf-jaskier]

Who the Fuck is Eskel?

If you have ever gone on The Witcher tag on Tumblr, I’m sure you’ve seen dozens of blogs dedicated to this guy named Eskel and for people who have just seen the show you might be wondering - who the fuck is this guy? 

Hi, I’m Aaliyah, and this is Part 5 of my WTF Series - a crash course in subjects from The Witcher Books. 

Post under the cut

Let’s jump in by talking about what books Eskel is in. He’s only mentioned in one line in The Last Wish, The Tower of Swallows and The Time of Contempt. He has a flashback scene in Lady of the Lake and the only book where he plays a heavy role in is Blood of Elves. 

For all you Eskel Stans out there, this is good news, because it looks like S2 of the show is going to be taking some cues from Blood of Elves and we do know Eskel is going to be appearing so these scenes might be showing up in some form or another in the show. 

We first meet Eskel in Blood of Elves when Geralt is first bringing Ciri to the keep:

“Who comes?” Ciri heard a menacing, metallic voice which sounded like a dog’s bark. “Geralt?”

“Yes, Eskel. It’s me.”

“Come in.”

The witcher dismounted, took Ciri from the saddle, stood her on the ground and pressed a bundle into her little hands which she grabbed tightly, only regretting that it was too small for her to hide behind completely.

“Wait here with Eskel,” he said. “I’ll take Roach to the stables.”

“Come into the light, laddie,” growled the man called Eskel. “Don’t lurk in the dark.”

Ciri looked up into his face and barely restrained her frightened scream. He wasn’t human. Although he stood on two legs, although he smelled of sweat and smoke, although he wore ordinary human clothes, he was not human. No human can have a face like that, she thought.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” repeated Eskel.

She didn’t move. In the darkness she heard the clatter of Roach’s horseshoes grow fainter. Something soft and squeaking ran over her foot. She jumped. “Don’t loiter in the dark, or the rats will eat your boots.”

Still clinging to her bundle Ciri moved briskly towards the light. The rats bolted out from beneath her feet with a squeak. Eskel leaned over, took the package from her and pulled back her hood.

“A plague on it,” he muttered. “A girl. That’s all we need.”

She glanced at him, frightened. Eskel was smiling. She saw that he was human after all, that he had an entirely human face, deformed by a long, ugly, semi-circular scar running from the corner of his mouth across the length of his cheek up to the ear.

“Since you’re here, welcome to Kaer Morhen,” he said. “What do they call you?”

“Ciri,” Geralt replied for her, silently emerging from the darkness. Eskel turned around. Suddenly, quickly, wordlessly, the witchers fell into each other’s arms and wound their shoulders around each other tight and hard. For one brief moment.

“Wolf, you’re alive.”

“I am.”

“All right.” Eskel took a torch from its bracket. “Come on. I’m closing the inner gates to stop the heat escaping.”

Couple things here. First, for all the game fans out there, Eskel’s scar in the books is VERY different. It’s not the lightening-like claw marks that go over his eye but instead it goes from the corner of his mouth to his ear. This is interesting because it really parallels in my mind Ciri’s scar she gets later on that extends from under her eye to her ear. 

Also, the little reunion between Geralt and Eskel, so sweet. The line about Eskel in Last Wish establishes that they were close friends so here is the snippet just to give more backstory to the two of them: 

“Once, years ago, when a little snot-faced brat following his studies in Kaer Morhen, the Witchers’ Settlement, he and a friend, Eskel, had captured a huge forest bumblebee and tied it to a jug with a thread. They were in fits of laughter watching the antics of the tied bumblebee, until Vesemir, their tutor, caught them at it and tanned their hides with a leather strap.”

Childhood friends and brothers is just so damn great. Actually, speaking of brothers, it is stated in Blood of Elves that Geralt and Eskel actually look very similar and are often mistaken for brothers such as in this scene from Triss’s POV. 

Eskel stood next to Geralt, resembling the Wolf like a brother apart from the colour of his hair and the long scar which disfigured his cheek. And the youngest of the Kaer Morhen witchers, Lambert, was there with his usual ugly, mocking expression. Vesemir was not there.

“Welcome and come in,” said Eskel. “It is as cold and blustery as if someone has hung themselves. Ciri, where are you off to? The invitation does not apply to you. The sun is still high, even if it is obscured. You can still train.”

“Hey.” The Enchantress tossed her hair. “Politeness comes cheap in Witchers’ Keep now, I see. Ciri was the first to greet me, and brought me to the castle. She ought to keep me company—”

This really interests me because Ciri is very young child when she meets Eskel and she is very terrified of him and intimidated. Which makes sense, she is very traumatized. But, when Triss meets Eskel she only makes a short note of his scar and focuses more on his resemblance to Geralt and commenting on the lack of politeness. It just goes to show how different characters perceive people differently. A child’s perspective of a warrior is not going to be the same as a Mage’s. 

“You didn’t even know.” She nodded in what was now a calm, concerned and gentle reproach. “You’re pathetic guardians. She’s ashamed to tell you because she was taught not to mention such complaints to men. And she’s ashamed of the weakness, the pain and the fact that she is less fit. Has any one of you thought about that? Taken any interest in it? Or tried to guess what might be the matter with her? Maybe her very first bleed happened here, in Kaer Morhen? And she cried to herself at night, unable to find any sympathy, consolation or even understanding from anyone? Has any one of you given it any thought whatsoever?”

“Stop it, Triss,” moaned Geralt quietly. “That’s enough. You’ve achieved what you wanted. And maybe even more.”

“The devil take it,” cursed Coën. “We’ve turned out to be right idiots, there’s no two ways about it, eh, Vesemir, and you—”

“Silence,” growled the old witcher. “Not a word.”

It was Eskel’s behaviour which was most unlikely; he got up, approached the enchantress, bent down low, took her hand and kissed it respectfully. She swiftly withdrew her hand. Not so as to demonstrate her anger and annoyance but to break the pleasant, piercing vibration triggered by the witcher’s touch. Eskel emanated powerfully. More powerfully than Geralt.

“Triss,” he said, rubbing the hideous scar on his cheek with embarrassment, “help us. We ask you. Help us, Triss.”

Now, if you can’t tell, Triss’ favorite is Eskel. This scene is also implies that Eskel is more magically powerful than Geralt which Is very interesting. But Triss is an Eskel stan, in fact a couple lines later Triss thinks to herself: 

Vesemir hawked again. But Eskel, dear Eskel, kept his head and once more behaved as was fitting.

“Of course,” he said casually, smiling. “We understand and clearly we will postpone your exercises until your indisposition has passed. We will also cut the theory short and, if you feel unwell, we will put it aside for the time being, too. If you need any medication or—”

Eskel definitely has the older sibling energy where he ends up in charge sometimes and knows how to keep a cool head. He’s also the most aware of societal norms of behavior which is why Triss likes his so much. She really respects people who know how to move in society. 

There’s also this scene in Blood of Elves where Eskel is drinking and offers Triss some:

“White Seagull.”

“What?”

“A mild remedy,” Eskel smiled, “for pleasant dreams.”

“Damn it! A witcher hallucinogenic? That’s why your eyes shine like that in the evenings!”

“White Seagull is very gentle. It’s Black Seagull that is hallucinogenic.”

“If there’s magic in this liquid I’m not allowed to take it!”

“Exclusively natural ingredients,” Geralt reassured her but he looked, she noticed, disconcerted. He was clearly afraid she would question them about the elixir’s ingredients. “And diluted with a great deal of water. We would not offer you anything that could harm you.”

I think it’s very funny how secret The Witcher keeps all their potions and elixirs. Whether it’s mushrooms or potions, they gotta keep those secret drugs locked down tight. Also the fact that Eskel is the fantasy equivalent of high every night? Love that for him.  

Eskel really is the peace-maker of the group. He’s not a push-over by any means but he is definitely more willing to play along that any of the others. When Triss is talking at night, Eskel is really the only one listening and engaging, even if it’s very half-hearted. 

In the evenings, consistently and determinedly, Triss guided the long conversations held in the dark hall, lit only by the bursts of flames in the great hearth, towards politics. The witchers’ reactions were always the same. Geralt, a hand on his forehead, did not say a word. 

Vesemir nodded, from time to time throwing in comments which amounted to little more than that “in his day” everything had been better, more logical, more honest and healthier. 

Eskel pretended to be polite, and neither smiled nor made eye contact, and even managed, very occasionally, to be interested in some issue or question of little importance. Coën yawned openly and looked at the ceiling, and Lambert did nothing to hide his disdain.

And he is really the only sort-of listener to Triss’ stories and retellings of events: 

This time it was Triss who began to yawn and stare at the ceiling. This time she was the one who remained silent – until Eskel turned to her with a question. A question which she had anticipated.

“And what is it really like in the south, on the Yaruga? Is it worth going there? We wouldn’t like to find ourselves in the middle of any trouble.”

“What do you mean by trouble?”

“Well, you know…” he stammered, “you keep telling us about the possibility of a new war… About constant fighting on the borders, about rebellions in the lands invaded by Nilfgaard. You said they’re saying the Nilfgaardians might cross the Yaruga again—”

“So what?” said Lambert. “They’ve been hitting, killing and striking against each other constantly for hundreds of years. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve already decided – I’m going to the far South, to Sodden, Mahakam and Angren. It’s well known that monsters abound wherever armies have passed. The most money is always made in places like that.”

“True,” Coën acknowledged. “The neighbourhood grows deserted, only women who can’t fend for themselves remain in the villages… scores of children with no home or care, roaming around… Easy prey attracts monsters.”

“And the lord barons and village elders,” added Eskel, “have their heads full of the war and don’t have the time to defend their subjects. They have to hire us. It’s true. But from what Triss has been telling us all these evenings, it seems the conflict with Nilfgaard is more serious than that, not just some local little war. Is that right, Triss?”

Once more, Eskel is the peace-maker of the conversation and he brings it back around to what Triss originally said and also points to her expertise. Basically, Eskel is not really a fan of verbal conflict. 

This is actually the last line we see Eskel in a scene outside of the flashback in Lady of the Lake. After this, Triss, Geralt and Ciri head off. It is important to note that near the end of Blood of Elves Ciri says this about Yennefer:

The lady magician knew a surprising amount about a witcher’s sword and “dance.” She knew a great deal about the secrets of Kaer Morhen; there was no doubt she had visited the Keep. She knew Vesemir and Eskel. Although not Lambert and Coën.

Yennefer used to visit Kaer Morhen. Ciri guessed why – when they spoke of the Keep – the eyes of the enchantress grew warm, lost their angry gleam and their cold, indifferent, wise depth. If the words had befitted Yennefer’s person, Ciri would have called her dreamy, lost in memories.

So clearly Yennefer is also friendly with Eskel and knows him. I love the idea that Yennefer regularly visited Kaer Morhen before Ciri came into Geralt’s care and I would literally cry if they did a flashback sequence in S2 of Yennefer visiting Geralt in Kaer Morhen. 

The flashback sequence in Lady of the Lake with Eskel goes like this: 

The fire in the huge fireplace went out. A gust of wind from the mountains whistled through the crevices of the walls and screamed through the improperly closed shutters of Kaer Morhen, Home of the Witchers.

“Damn it!” Eskel said, standing up and going to the cupboard. “Seagull or vodka?”

“Vodka,” Geralt and Coen said with one voice.

“Sure,” interjected Vesemir, hidden in the shadows, “Yes, of course! Drown your stupidity in vodka. Damn fools!”

“It was an accident…” muttered Lambert. “She had already mastered the comb…”

“Shut your big mouth, you idiot! I don’t want to hear any more! I warned you, if something happened to that little girl…”

“Enough,” Coen interrupted him, softly. “She sleeps peacefully. Deep and healthy. She will wake up a bit sore, but that’s it. About the trance, and what happened, she will not even remember it.”

“As long as you remember,” said Vesemir, panting angrily. “Cabbage heads! Pour for me too, Eskel.”

They were silent for a long time, listening intently to the howling gale.

“We will need to call someone,” Eskel finally said. “We will need to bring a sorcerer here. What is happening to the girl, it is not normal.”

Eskel is one of The Witcher who really pushes to call Triss in order to help with Ciri’s trances. Also, once again this guy is hitting the drinks. 

So yeah! That’s Eskel in the books. Based on how in the non-canon wedding short Asaps wrote where he ended up having Triss and Eskel get together, I think his hints of them having a connection in the books is very intentional and if The Witcher wasn’t such a god damn tragedy and Triss wasn’t mooning over Geralt, I’m willing to bet they would have gotten together at some point. 

Eskel is the peace-maker of the family and is the best at recognizing the norms of “polite society” (or at least noble society) and while Ciri might have been scared of his appearance, it isn’t enough to phase Triss who is considered rather vain. In fact, she seems to respect Eskel the most out of the Witchers. Just imagine a dark-haired, scarred Geralt and BOOM, you got yourself an Eskel. 

[shigarakislittlepet]

Hooooh boy👀 okay so if you have a character limit just do Dabi and Shinsou (my absolute favourite boys) but if you don't have a character limit I'd also like Aizawa and Bakugou with a s/o who's very obedient and good for them (and ofc good to them) and they're afraid that they're boring because they don't really break any rules or misbehave. Everybody's on and on abt brats and my obedient subby lil ass is over here like qwq obedient subbies aren't boring😤😤 take your time and don't feel pressured oke?? 💕💕

oh my god i love you, you are so so sweet 💕💕💕 I hope I did this request justice, the implications are just !!! So sweet QuQ

no character limit, so i will do all the bbys 🥰

TW: NSFW, Dom/sub themes, light quirk use for sexy times (shinsou), Daddy kink (for Aizawa, I’m sorry lol), some name calling... I think that’s it! Let me know if I missed anything!

HERES MY TAKE ON SUPER GOOD SUBS AND HOW THE HUBBIES WOULD REACT!

-Dabi-

•Okay okay so we all know Dabi is a HARD dom, he has a LOT of aggression to work through in a healthy way, and you help make that happen!

•You’d worry that Dabi would prefer a “bad girl”, a brat that talked back sometimes so he could punish them and REALLY let all that frustration out!

•Once you talked to him about it he would laugh at you. He’s just mean like that lol. BUT once he calmed down and realized it was something that was actually bothering you he’d just look at you and be like “...really?”

•Because what you HADN’T considered is that Dabi spent so much of his life with absolutely no control over his environment, he lived in constant fear of uncertainty. The only certainty he EVER had at home was pain.

•You provide him with total control. You never talk back, you never question him. You do as you’re told and then you say “Thank you Sir” in your sweet little voice no matter what depraved things he’s made you do for him. The absolute control he has with you makes him feel like he’s on top of the world! And you THANK him for it??? Way to stroke his massive ego while you’re at it, damn.

•You give him the stability he never thought he’d have, and the unconditional love and adoration and worship that he never thought he deserved. To him, you’re perfect. His perfect little angel. He would kill and die for you. He would get drunk off of your submission.

•He’d get bored of a brat pretty quickly, not as much of a power trip in his opinion. XP

•I feel like he doesn’t really go heavy on the praise, but when it DOES happen, when you’re on your knees worshipping his cock and using your talented mouth for what it’s MEANT to be used for, and he’s certain your mouth was meant for this, and he slides a hand into your hair grabbing a handful and tugging while his other hand grasps at any stable piece of furniture for some stability and groans out unfiltered praises in his deep gravelly voice??? It feels like you’re both on cloud nine, and nothing is ever going to tear you down from it.

-Shinsou-

• Shinsou would love his precious little kitty cat and shower you with praise and adoration and gifts to reward you for being so good for him all the time. He is a quiet simp, and will the worship the ground you walk on.

• If you voiced your concern about being boring, he would just smile deviously and then back you up against a wall of your shared apartment and start kissing your neck and saying things like “What do you mean kitty cat, don’t we have fun?” And then he will spend the next few hours reminding you just how much fun you have together~~~

• He would make sure that you never worried about being boring again. He would have a wonderful time making you verbalize all the "fun" things you want him to do to you. The fact that he can make you say all those embarrassing things so easily and make you beg for him without a second thought from you makes him so unbelievably feral. He doesn't even have to use his quirk to make you do anything he wants, which makes him feel like the most powerful man that’s ever lived, although whenever you bat your pretty little eyes at him and beg him to "Pleeeaaaassseeee brainwash me and turn me into your puppet? Pretty please?”. He will melt, and he will HAVE to grant all his perfect little kitten’s wishes.

• The reason he absolutely adores your complete obedience and submission is the undying and unwavering trust you clearly have in him. To do all the things he asks of you, no matter how humiliating, without so much as a single complaint? It makes him lightheaded and he will tell you that there is only one feeling in the world better than that, and thats being in love with you. He’s such a sap.

• It's the trust he gets off on. Even after becoming a pro-hero, the media tends to treat him similarly to Aizawa. They have this sort of “scary vigilanty that barely operates within the law” angle on him, even though he isn’t scary at all, and he’s a wonderful hero. The public tends to like him, but in a wary sort of way. Some people are still afraid to look him in the eyes or respond to him at all. So the trust you openly display is intoxicating to him.

• And of course, as is most important, the fact that you trust him enough that you will use your safe word when you need to, knowing that he will immediately put a stop to whatever is going on and hold you tight and take care of you never fails to warm his heart. He is never disappointed when this happens because it shows just how much you TRUST him to take care of you and not abuse his power.

-Aizawa-

• Hahahahahahahahahahahaha

•Okay so Aizawa is a different beast entirely.

•We all know Aizawa is a Daddy, and he expects his sweet little submissive baby to behave at all times. He’s HAD bratty subs before, and honestly, he finds them tiring. He can and WILL correct misbehaving subs with an iron fist, but over time he’s gotten tired of the whiny “make me”’s and the purposeful breaking of his carefully thought out rules.

•He deals with bratty teens all day, what makes you think he has the patience to deal with another brat at HOME? Nah.

•What he enjoys most about your near worshipful levels of obedience and submission is the level of respect you display to him. How much you truly want to please him and impress him. He finds it equally endearing and entertaining.

• You memorized every single one of his rules, every position, every expectation that he had of you, and you never failed to preform beautifully. He would never expect PERFECTION from a partner, per say, he’s perfectly lenient when and if you make an honest mistake, but he tells you all the time how perfect you are for him. He’ll tell you how much he loves the lengths at which you’ll go to please him.

• This man LIVES to tease you about how obedient you are, almost daring you to step out of line. You never take the bait though, you just get adorably embarrassed and pout at him while he teases you more. “Awe, what is it kitten? You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like it when I tease you.” as he drags his thumb across your lower lip while it trembles, the deep bass of his voice reverebrating through your skull and turning you to mush.

•He layers the praise on THICK when you’ve earned it. Once he’s had his fun tormenting and teasing and edging you, he will fuck you slowly and deeply, agonizingly, and he will tell you what a good little slut you are for his cock and it’s ages before you realize that he’s prolonging your torture by fucking you this way and saying these things to you. He wants to see how far he can push you before you either break down into a pitiful mess of tears and pleas, or if maybe ther IS a needy little brat in there just waiting to come out. It’s always the former though, and he always loves getting you to that point. You’d do anything for him, and he knows it. He gets just a little high on it.

-Bakugou-

•Mans wrote the BOOK on hero worship, and he expects you to worship.

•Pro-hero Dynamight expects nothing but perfection, and he expects you to measure up. He can tell a brat from a mile away, and I genuinely think he actively avoids them. He’s enough of a brat to for both of you anyway lmao

•I hope you like pain, because he’s the type to inflict it for fun and not just for punishment. A true sadist for the truest masochist.

•If you ever talked to Bakugou about your fear of being boring to him, I really hope you’re prepared for the consequences. “What??? You think if you were just some boring shitty extra that I’d honestly waste any time on you? Do you really think I’m that stupid???” Its all in an attempt to reassure you, but he will spend the rest of the night punishing you for thinking so lowly of yourself.

•No matter HOW good you seem to be, getting a praise out of this man is damn near IMPOSSIBLE, even when he IS pleased with you. Getting him to verbalize anything he’s happy about is a struggle, so you start to look for the subtle signs. You notice his hands trail lightly down your back when you handle the paddle better than the night before. The way he brushes your hair out of your face when he’s roughly fucking into you after a particularly frustrating day of hero work, and you don’t even bat an eye at his brutality. The soft smile you almost miss when you KNOW he’s had a rough day at work and meet him at the door, already on your knees in one of his favorite outfits and with dinner already cooking away on the stove. Sure, he usually cooks, but when all he has to do is come home and have you... He’s damn near ready to propose every time you do it because you are just. So. Good to him. Good for him. And on those days, when you’re both showered and warm in bed and he’s stroking your hair and half asleep, you can hear faint praises fall from his lips. You know he means them everyday, but it’s on these days when his stress is melted away completely by your touch and your love and he’s so filled with contentment and just by being with you that his heart and mind are relaxed enough to let a little vulnerability show. As a treat.

• He never thought he would feel like this about anyone. Never thought that anyone would ever measure up to his impossible standards, but you take all his gruffness in stride and throw it back at him by being warm and loving, following all of his rules, doing everything you can to make him happy, and treating him like a god. He can’t think of anything better than spending the rest of his life with you.

[magnumdays]

Magnum PI 3.16 - Bloodline review

So this episode was... let’s just say I have emotions. 

I’m also super exhausted because I woke up at 5 (after going to bed at midnight because I was finishing off The Moments We Decide on Forever) and couldn’t go back to sleep and couldn’t find the episode so I was stuck in this purgatory: I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t do anything else but to ponder the episode and not try to read spoilers. And because I’m a comfy bitch + corona school from home I’ve gotten so used to 8 hours of sleep, I don’t know how to deal with being tired any more.

Higgy leaving:

Higgy going with Ethan makes no sense. Yet, I kind of love the end scene so much, I can almost forgive them for having this weird plot/ choice. It’s very confusing. So yeah. 

(Don’t worry there is more on this further down...because of course there is, it makes no sense!)   

Case: 

I liked the fact that this is a “not-police-worthy case” (at least to start). We got Magnum being his heroic self, promising to make everything okay. Twists and turns. Now owing a Russian diplomat spy a favor. Dramatic shoot out ending, daddy/daughter re-connect! 

Did not feel like a finale case (or episode) but you know, whatever, it is what it is and it was fine. Much more uplifting than the depressing one from last week to be sure.

Jin/ Ferrari:

I ship it.

Ethan/ Higgy:

OMG, I already posted on how much their ‘getting back together scene’ cracked me up. But it really did. 

(Ethan looking constipated in love)

(Higgy looking adorable)

Other than that, it was kind of nice to see Higgy dealing with the break up at the start. Mostly because she was super chill about it. Like “should have handled it differently but you know” but with a *whatever shrug* and then our girl was like “are you going to let me in or just hand me my stuff?” when she went to Ethan’s! Love it! 

One of my favorite scenes was her telling E No about going with him to Africa. And I was like “this makes sense” while also going “how in the world do they change this into her wanting to go?” 

Answer is... they don’t?

Because she goes because Magnum tells her to. Because she thinks it’s what she should do. Have to do to save her already kind of failing relationship with Ethan. She’s actually not really expressing a whole lot of desire to go at all. She is sad about being separated from Ethan, sure, and she care about him... but she’s not ready to go to Africa with him. She goes because Magnum basically tells her it’s what she should do (IMHO).

Even though she says to Ethan “I’d love to go with you, of course I would,” that is absolutely not the feeling she’s giving off in this scene.

Her arms are crossed, she’s looking up and down, to the side, not holding eye contact for any length of time time. Fact is this is giving me big times, “I like you, but I like my life here more, so how do we deal with that?” 

She also start this exchange by saying “it’s not fair to make you wait to my answer” because she does honestly not need to or want to think about it. She wants to tell him she’s staying and see where that leaves them.

And let’s not forget the fact that she’s more concerned about leaving Magnum, who will simply be staying in Hawaii with his friends then she is about Ethan going alone Africa to work in some pretty bad conditions and around possibly desperate and dangerous people. But yeah, we got our priorities in order! I love it. (Though to be fair, Magnum does need a keeper because he could quite possibly get himself into trouble buying ice cream...)

Magnum / Higgins

Oh my poor baby Magnum, being to damned noble for his (and at this point Higgy’s) own good. And I do get it, why he pushed her to do it.

If she hadn’t gone, would there always have been this maybe? 

So I see what he was doing. But he was doing it as much for himself as for her. 

And I would like her to be a little hurt by this at some point. Realize he was pushing her towards Ethan because he was worried telling her anything else might make him have to face his own feelings. Realize he’s projecting what he might be feeling for her and assuming that because he’d follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked, she should want and do the same for Ethan? 

See he was trying to do what was right for her without asking what she truly wanted and looking past the mandatory ‘yes of course I want to go’ which he infers from her being upset, and don’t actually get a confirmation on her even really telling him before he’s telling her to go (at least I don’t think?).

Honestly, we needed a minute where Juliet talked to Kumu at the end about not being sure and then quickly brushing it off. But we don’t get that. We get Kumu going “You deserve to be happy Juliet” and Juliet smile with no eye sparkle and then makes this face... 

and says “Thank you.” Not that she is sure she will be happy. Or that she is. But thank you? To me that does not scream ‘I’m overjoyed to be riding off into the sunset with my prince’. (Then again we all know who her real prince charming...or shall we say white knight...is).

Moving on...

Love how you can clearly notice Magnum shifting how he’s acting after hearing Juliet and Ethan are back together. In fact he’s acting like this whole thing is NOT a big deal. Even the hug and his always adorable smile is a bit distant at the end.

+ she’s hugging him with both her arms, one around his neck and he’d not  going full in on it. Because he gotta keep that distance because he’s back to “Higgins and I are just friends” territory. And he can’t let it be anything more, especially now that he’s convinced her to go with E.

This is also why he gives her banter rather than feels there when she’s trying to be serious for a second. Even if the Jolly Good is basically becoming their ‘I love you’ code. I did really appreciate that we got a moment of soft Higgy admitting to Magnum that he is her best friend and that she wouldn’t know what to do without him.

(And I need that ‘Jolly Good’ T-shirt. STAT.)

Anyhow. this last bit... all of it was pure gold.

I don’t know what I’d do without you either.

You’re my best friend. (This one is just... everything.)

 Ditto.

Ditto? Really?

The ‘Jolly Good’ call back.

The looking back from the car, him still looking at her.

Yup. I’m getting all teary eyed thinking about it.

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep 15 Pt 2: Don’t Trust Anyone Who Wears a Floor Length Robe Over Their Casuals in Yugioh

Hey, it’s my birthday, so I’m gonna release this early because the rest of today I just have to work like an adult and that’s no fun.

In the first half of this episode we dunked the worlds smallest plane into a lake and so this second half of the episode involved the kids running as far away from their only responsible adults as they could.

Which like...took whole of less than a second for them to peace out and enter mortal danger.

...I’ve never been in a jungle in India but...I have seen the Jungle book many times...and there’s like tigers and stuff in there, right? and tons of monkeys that are hella mean? And freakin snakes? They sing jazz and scat? That’s some terrifying stuff.

Like these city kids have to learn at some point to fear the woods. But they just freakin don’t. And strangely, the most dangerous thing in these woods isn’t even a snake or something, but a human man just being as suspicious as possible lying prone on the ground.

(read more under the cut)

The card cultist happens to have a British accent, because this voice acting team freakin loves to pull out their British accents. It’s not as lowbrow as Valon, but it’s not as...well whatever Bakura is supposed to be. He’s a lot more tame than Bakura’s, but still very British.

I don’t know if this is because British English tends to be taught instead of American sounding English in many parts of India, but, most likely they just wanted to do an accent. And like...he’s an archeologist...and so the stereotype is there...but honestly, the decision of making this guy British gets weirder and weirder as this episode goes on, get ready for it. None of you are ready for what I assume is the very obvious plot twist of this freakin guy.

Catfish of the century, this freakin guy, I’m pretty sure.

Yugi immediately believes this completely out of place white British stranger in the Indian backwoods next to this inaccessible lake and immediately thinks “yes, my Grandfather crash landed in India EXACTLY where I’m standing right now, and now I must save him.”

Thankfully, Yami exists to gently and politely tell Yugi to hella stop.

Also, I like that Yugi has finally stopped wearing his school outfit out of school. But, he is instead wearing a jacket that is so close to his school outfit I honestly couldn’t tell until the end of this episode. It’s like...I think one shade more purple, it has white piping, and his undershirt has a center seam. It’s nice Yugi has 3 versions of the same black sleeveless undershirt, and this show cares enough to show that tiny factoid about Yugi’s closet.

So, because Yugi is a dumbass and Pharaoh has to just sit back and watch this happen so he can say “told you so” later, they follow this random cultist they found in the woods. Much like Hansel and Gretel, we snack on cake crumbs all the way to the witches house, which in this case, is an undiscovered monolith you would have easily seen from outer space.

HMMMMMMMMMM.

And so get ready for this:

Hey guys.

Remember how Alexander the great was buried in a pyramid?

Now because they’re name dropping Alexander, that’s actually kind of helpful, because Alexander the Great’s favorite damn horse in the entire world died while he was at war with India so he named a city after it. It’s believed to be in Punjab, which is in the Northern part of India

Which means we first of all, definitely crossed the tallest mountain range in the world to get here, and also means that we are like...in some really disputed territory of India right now, and it is crazy that these kids went here for a vacation completely unsupervised.

Another fun fact about Alexander is that when he died, it took 6 days for his body to decompose. At the time, they thought it was because he was a God (or in Yugioh’s case, Extremely Cursed) but nowadays historians think it’s because it took him 6 days to fully die. He just wasn’t dead yet. Had to give it a minute and the ancient Babylonians just got way too excited.

Anyway, Alexander super died in Babylon so I don’t know what the hell he’s doing in India. There is a fun spot in History where his body did get dragged to a couple different places, meaning we probably did lose the original Alexander and there’s a lot of people just guessing at where he ended up...but putting him clear up in India sure was a choice when one of his assumed burial sites was literally Egypt, which would be a more fitting location for a Pyramid and a more fitting location for this show.

Especially since Alexander was trying to invent a new race and culture...it seems a little strange he’d be buried in such a massive pyramid, but maybe he got a really, really good pyramid deal from the funeral home when he was like 28 and just figured he’d change it before the time he died at 32.

Which...now that I’m older than 32, how crazy is it that Alexander the Great died at freakin 32? You blink twice and you’re 32. Is history seriously trying to tell me this guy wasn’t like secretly 62? That maybe he just celebrated his 20th for like 20 years in a row as a royal mandate? I just feel like history is playing pranks on me with Alexander.

Anyway, our weird shady new archeologist guy is named Alex and so take that as you will.

I sure hope Alexander the Great was revived to wear khakis and bother children. Guy conquered the world once and was one of history’s Freakin Worst so he does deserve it, but also...it would explain why he thinks it’s normal to wear a Darth Maul robe over your business casual.

Anyway, lets enter the obvious trap pyramid.

Joey just wanted a nice time running around Northern India. He just wanted to eat some yummy chaat and look at some tourist destinations and maybe glance at a Bollywood star or two. But instead he’s gotta deal with spike floors because Yugi couldn’t say no to a cultist.

Also...one of those spikes clearly went through Tea’s feet, right? And she is absolutely fine? Just checking on Tea’s godlike strength and clearly it is still godlike.

Alex gives us a very long explanation of how he went upstairs and Grandpa went downstairs, and there was a door or something so Alex turned back around and Grandpa was gone.

All of those steps were probably plot relevant and I’ll probably forget all about it in 2 episodes.

The thing is Alex...literally thinks he evaporated. Literally thinks that. But how do you disprove it to this freakin guy who like...might have named a city after his horse once and thinks that’s a normal and acceptable thing to do?

and so Joey immediately leaps onto the haunted playing floor.

the way Yugi said this line was sort of hilarious to me so I may cap it. If I remember to do it (I’ve been a little busier lately, with things opening up, as you can tell because my update schedule is in the toilet.)

So, if Joey jumps in...everyone else has to, also.

And we say good bye to Alex and enter the new forest zone, which looks a LOT like the other forest we were just in.

Nice Protoss armor.

We get some hijinks from the local wildlife, which are all cards but real (but not real because we’re in a board game...don’t think about it) and the off brand Sheikah tablets have helpful monsters in them if you touch em.

This season may have been better off as a video game, being honest.

Joey has gone somewhere else, despite going onto the same game tile, and he’s too busy on a mountain range to really help anyone out. So he’s just gonna vibe up here for a bit.

Tea got up after this point and said along the lines of “k, what’s next?” Because mortal danger does not affect her and she fears nothing.

At a beach somewhere, Tea and Tristan spend some quality time together forming a new family with whatever these creatures are.

And Tea’s love of her winged angel comes full circle and now I will suffer this winged orb for the rest of this arc, pretty sure.

Please admire the number of belts on Tea. Her outfit is like max 00′s and I appreciate that. We’ve had a lot of questionable fashion on Yugioh, but they actually dressed Tea pretty on point this arc. Like I often feel like 00′s fashion is hard to define or describe, but it’s Tea right now. That’s it. She did it, it’s right there.

Yugi gets a new flagship card for this arc, and this time it’s Celtic Guardian. Hell why? I feel like his defining card changes every single arc, and they need to like focus and just give him one. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s still Dark Magician...and maybe the show forgot?

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to read the rest:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

I think I forgot that link in the last recap because yo it’s kind of been a while since I’ve updated, I feel. (well I had a graveyard post and those don’t count really) But, we’re back, we’re still going, slowly but surely.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Massage Therapist Erik

warnings: Anal, AU Erik, Nasty talk. 

I am here to worship your mind and your body.

To me in this moment no one exists but you.

I am here to appreciate every stretch mark,

Love handle,

Blemish, 

And scar. 

You are more than your pain. 

You are the embodiment of life and love.

Let me help you find you again.

As a massage therapist you must be careful to make your clients feel as comfortable as possible from the moment they step into the office. A clinical style office with bare white walls and empty shelves will make a person seeking relief feel more like they walked into a doctor’s office than into the hands of a competent, caring therapist. Paint the walls a warm color. Start with pale neutrals or warm, dark colors such as shades of brown or a rustic red or orange. Set the ambience with candles of different scents on shelves. Candle light always sets the mood and sparks relaxation. Invest in massage tables with thick foam cushioning and thermal capabilities. A whirlpool jacuzzi tub is a beautiful, visually pleasing, and fulfilled look that will have your clients envisioning they are in the comfort of their home. Soothing massage oils and creams will leave your clients skin extra soft and incredibly smooth while giving them a rich healthy glow at the same time. Your clients can also add the oils to their jacuzzi bath for a long and relaxing soak that will leave them practically glowing.

Erik Stevens, licensed Massage Therapist and Instructor for six years just opened his very own center titled Infinite Pleasure Day & Nite Spa with a full staff of young black Massage Therapists and Estheticians fresh out of the school he’s an instructor for. Erik offered them full-time and part-time positions and pay starting at $25 HR with the chance to earn more. The center closes at 10 PM but depending on the clientele, the center can stay open as long as it needs to. The uniforms for the ladies are black tunic wrap tops with black pants and the guys wear black polo shirts with black pants. On the back of the uniform shirts in gold is Erik’s business logo. It's the Hand of Midas with the silhouette of a woman’s curves superior to it. Even though Erik has his own spa, he takes personal house calls from some of his favorite lady clients. Erik will have a consultation with his clients to discuss and collaborate on how the mood should be set for the therapy session. Some prefer total silence because it heightens their senses, others like it if he talks with a soft spoken voice, sometimes they like it when he plays R&B music, and almost always they want the lights out with candles lit to set the mood. 

As much as he loved being a Massage Therapist, the physical demands can cause you to burn out. Self-care is indubitably important and being as physically fit as possible. The most important piece of equipment a massage therapist has is their own body. Erik stresses the importance of proper nutrition and diet, getting good enough sleep, and taking time out. It’s all about rejuvenation. Poor body mechanics can cause injuries to your hands, arms, shoulders, and back. Generating pressure from the core of the body and relieving neck strain by not looking at his strokes----keeping the head and neck in a neutral, extended position, and resting his chin against his neck to relieve the extensors is how Erik prevents work-related injury. Erik prefers to close his eyes when working because it reminds him that he does not need to watch the work being done so often---it allows him to better focus on what he is feeling with his hands. Erik’s strong, smooth hands have been compared to that of an angel or silk dragging across your skin. His smooth baritone allows you to let go and heal. Imagine how intense it is to have Erik as your Massage Therapist and not be turned on?

When I touch my client’s body, I touch their whole being---their intellect, their spirit, their emotions…

It’s a Thursday evening at Infinite Pleasure Day & Nite Spa and so far throughout the scorching hot day, at least twenty clients have been tended to. Kobi, the new hire receptionist, grabs the keys to the spa entrance, locking the commercial glass double doors. She twirls the key ring around her left pointer finger while walking back to the front desk. Kobi removes her black blazer, stretching out her arms to relieve tension in her back before pulling the bottom of her white blouse down since it had ridden up from her stretching. Kobi leans her head side to side, cracking her cervical vertebrae and then she rolls her shoulders before grumbling in pain. Her cleavage heaved when she released a deep breath before grabbing her black, mini Tory Burch bag from beneath the desk. Kobi then grabs her phone and charger, placing it within her bag. Shuffling from behind the desk, Kobi shuts off the front lobby lights, turning the corner towards the back of the spa. 

Kobi punches out with her personal PIN number on a wall-mounted time clock. Finally, Kobi lets her heat-damaged, curly nut-brown hair down, using her fingers to separate the half wavy, half curly strands. The faintly lit hallway made Kobi’s skin more sepia as she walked towards the back entrance of the spa. Kobi notices one of the massage room doors is still open, sighing with a roll of her eyes before approaching the door to close it. Upon arriving at the door, Kobi fought back a rising panic when she noticed the room was still occupied. When the person turned around, she breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. 

“Erik, I thought you had left,” Kobi says with a faint smile and a hand to her chest.

“Spilled some of this massage oil, I forgot to recap it,” Erik chuckles at her terror stricken face while using a black cotton rag to absorb the oil spill from one of the shelves used to store items. Once he was finished, Erik tossed the rag in a linen basket before blowing out the candles. 

“Will you be in tomorrow?” Kobi asked as she watched Erik cover each candle. Kobi’s eyes cascaded down Erik’s back like she was following a stream of water. Even through his black polo, Erik’s sculpted body is clearly seen and wickedly tempting to caress.

“Hey, Kobi, can you push that button to turn off the music?” Erik asks. Kobi pushes a black button beneath the automatic lightswitch to the room, pausing the instrumental to Brian McKnight’s Anytime. While he wiped down the massage table, Kobi examined the way his muscles flexed and bunched beneath the russet skin of his bicep. Eyes traveling up the length of his bulky arm, Kobi allowed her coffee-brown eyes to outline the shape of his thick lips, and chiseled jawline. His tapered locs were covering his onyx eyes before he straightened his back, extending his neck to remove them from his line of vision. Erik could feel Kobi staring and when his onyx eyes connected with hers, Kobi immediately looked away before bringing her hand up to massage a kink from her neck.

“Still in pain I see. So, that must mean you didn’t take my advice?” Erik raises an accusatory brow at Kobi, “You know how important it is to take care of your posture, Kobi...c’mere,” Erik motioned with a curl of his finger for Kobi to come to him, “Sit right here, it should be dry now.” 

Kobi takes a seat on the edge of the massage table, resting her bag, black blazer, and car keys next to her right thigh. Kobi clears her throat nervously before straightening her back, a whimper slipping past her oval-shaped lips. Erik shakes his head before standing behind Kobe, bringing his skillful and veined hands up to her slender shoulders, leaving a little space between them to make it more comfortable. Erik formed a loose ‘C’ shape with his hands while keeping his thumbs straight. Erik feels for the smooth contour of the muscles just above her collar bones with his fingertips. 

“I didn’t even realize how long your hair is, Kobi,” Erik spoke with a hushed tone.

“Oh,” Kobe shakes her head so the strands can fall forward, “Yeah, I do wear it up a lot.”

“Well, maybe you should wear it down more often,” Erik begins, drawing Kobi’s muscles up with gentle, consistent pressure. He constantly presses the tips of his fingers and thumbs into her trapezius muscles from both sides, starting at the inside of her shoulders closer to her neck. Everytime Erik would roll her muscles up towards her collarbones without releasing his grip, Kobe would groan. The muscles in his arms worked to squeeze and lift and as quickly as he started, Kobi became more comfortable and relaxed. 

“This damaged hair? Please,” Kobe lets out a panting breath before closing her eyes, “I need to chop it all off and start over again.”

“Shit, I think it’s pretty,” Erik raises and lowers his forearms with slow, smooth motions while focusing on the side of Kobi’s pretty brown face, “The two different curl patterns...I like this wild look on you.”

“Stop with the lies, Erik,” Kobi rolled her eyes before hissing, “Damn...that felt good.”

“Yeah?” Erik went slower to make it feel even better, “Wait until I get to your neck, you’ll be moaning then.”

Kobi’s eyes shot open and her eyelids rapidly blinked, “Then I guess it’s a good thing that I’m wearing pants instead of a skirt---shit, that was inappropriate,” Kobi slaps her forehead. Erik could do that to you---make you say the first thing on your mind no matter how vulgar and X-rated it is.

“It was honest,” Erik clarifies with a deep voice so close to Kobi’s ear that it made the tiny hairs on her earlobe raise, “It happens all the time believe it or not.”

“...What happens all the time?” Kobi says with rapid attention.

“My lady clients getting wet,” from her shoulders, Erik starts to massage Kobi’s neck with light, long strokes, finding her tension spots and applying focused pressure, “A lot of my clients get nervous and scared because they think they’ll get wet or aroused...who cares...if you’re stopping yourself from getting turned on you have too much control over your body...I always tell them to let go, it’s okay, we replace the sheets between every client,” Kobi and Erik share a laugh, “But honestly it’s just about enjoying yourself and letting your mind run free during the experience...I got you,” Erik kneaded his thumbs into Kobi’s tense muscles in a circular motion before gliding his fingers into her hairline.

“Can I be your new client?” Kobi says with a honeyed voice. Erik bites his lip before bringing his fingers around to massage Kobi’s throat.

“Why? So I can make you wet?” 

Kobi wanted to say, “But you already make me wet, daddy.” Instead, she says, “So you can help relieve this pain, Mr. Stevens…” Kobi blushes.

“You know I got you, Kobi...I do house calls too.”

Kobi nibbled on her bottom lip. She realizes that her panties are soaked. If only she could let go and unfasten her pants, kick them off, and pull the crotch of her panties to the side. If his fingers feel this good on her skin his tongue would feel even better licking her clit. Her imprudent thoughts in this precise moment are barbaric and Kobi wanted nothing more than for Erik’s heavenly hands to slip inside of her blouse to twirl her nipples. Kobi’s thigh jerked and her fingers gripped the edge of the massage table so harsh that it rubbed painfully against the palm of her hand. 

“Better?” Erik’s voice knocked Kobi out of her fantasy. She flexed her back and rubbed her neck before turning to Erik with her appreciative eyes sparkling, “Thank you so much, Erik. I don’t know how else to thank you.”

“Come in with your hair down tomorrow...like this,” Erik uses his thick fingers to part Kobi’s hair and stroke it to the left side of her face for a more untamed look, “You look freshly fucked.”

Alarmed by his words, Kobi’s coffee-brown eyes blinked at Erik slowly. No man has ever talked to her so boldly like that. Kobi licks her lips then bites her bottom one. Kobi was definitely playing with fire since Erik is her boss and she does have a boyfriend waiting for her at home. It would surely be inappropriate if Kobi were to lay back on the massage table, take off her black pants and drenched panties, and spread her thighs so wide so  her wet little pussy can open up for Erik to see. She could almost feel the warmth of Erik’s breath drawing closer and closer as his head lowered between her trembling thighs. Kobi wondered if he stroked pussy with his tongue first or if he wrapped his thick lips around the inner folds to suck. Either way, Kobi’s clit jumped, her walls quivered, and her nipples stiffened to pebbles. 

“Is your boyfriend picking you up? Erik gives Kobi a teasing smile with a tilt of his head. His onyx eyes damn near tunneled through hers the more he stared. 

“No..I drove the car today, “ Kobi inhaled sharply, “It’s getting late, I should probably head out.”

“Yeah, he’s probably worried,” Erik creates space between them both and it felt much colder, “Go ahead...get some rest baby girl, you know it’s gonna be yet another busy ass day tomorrow.”

“You’re right, let me get my ass home,” Kobi laughs nervously before standing from the table. She adjusts her pants, “Thanks again, Erik. For real...I appreciate it.” 

“Don’t trip, you know I got you whenever you need me.”

Silence hung between them both and from the way Erik was watching her Kobi was worried about what she would do...what she shouldn’t do. Gathering her things, Kobi gives Erik a final polite smile before turning to leave, sauntering out of the massage room as quickly as she can leaving Erik and his fattened dick behind.

______________

XMilanaRoseX: It’s demon time, how should I fuck this phat pussy tonight?

Milana Russell--- Nevada born and raised before she moved to California. Milana graduated from the University of Southern California with a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and is now pursuing a master’s in criminology. Milana has a heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, full lips, shoulder length locs with honey blonde tips, 5’10 and full-figured. Her golden eyes are captivating and her mellifluous voice makes you bend at her will. Milana has her webcam set up in her newly furnished bedroom for some late night play time. There are an assortment of toys on her bed and she’s already oiled down to make her curves stand out more for her horny viewers. Milana is wearing pastel multicolored fluffy cat ears with a holographic heart choker and  dramatic grunge makeup with pink glitter and glitter gloss on her lips. Milana kneeled on her heart-shaped bed in white velvet while cupping her large breasts and pointing them towards the camera. Milana jiggles both D cup breasts before releasing them and making them sway in the camera.

“I know Tuesday was titty day but you can never have enough titties,” Milana massaged her oily breasts sensually, “I bet you would love to have a pair like this...these pretty ass titties...you wanna dick my pussy down while sucking on these big ass cocoa titties? Huh? Suck on these chocolate hershey kiss nipples? Hm? I bet your girlfriend don’t know how much you wanna lick and suck on my nipples...not to mention this sweet juicy black pussy,” Milana sucks on her fingers before dragging them down to rub her clit. Her attentive eyes focused on the screen of her Macbook, reading the comments and giggling at some of the responses. 

SoulSnatcherrr: Damn babi they are so beautiful.

TyanaBiLove: Can I have you please? 

Nuttinyou_: I’ll hold them up for you mama don’t worry. Then I’ll slobber all over them bitches.

TribbQueen94: You wanna meet up? I just wanna rub my pussy against yours all fucking night baby. Then I wanna eat your pussy over and over until you cum on my face. 😛

LaflameDaddy: Made it home just in time to see my favorite girl in action...as always those titties are looking scrumptious...I’m tryna see that chocolate pussy...can’t forget that tight ass either...turn around and show big daddy where his dick belong at girl...stop playing with me.

“Oh yeah, Laflame?” Milana says to one of her fans, “you wanna suck my pussy and fuck my ass? You always wanna fuck my ass, daddy,” Milana turns around, showing her orbit of an ass off that filled up the entire camera. Milana takes one of her hands to spread her cheeks to reveal the amethyst jeweled butt plug snugly fitting into her asshole.

LaflameDaddy: I’ll stretch that tight ass until your eyes roll back little girl...I see you got them toys out…Always ready to fuck that tight pussy like a good girl...I need your pussy in my mouth...wish I could show you this big dick right now standing straight up. 

Milana read the comment from LaflameDaddy while biting on her bottom lip, “That’s exactly what I plan to do, daddy…” Milana and whoever LaflameDaddy is have been flirting and sexting back and forth for about three months now. His avatar is a picture of his muscular torso oiled down, his thick brown pipe in his hand, and the devil emoji enlarged over his face. Out of all the nasty, freaky comments Milana receives, LaflameDaddy stood out the most. Milana was sure her other fans envied his gifted tongue that impressed Milana. She really wanted to know how he looked. Milana didn’t do meet-ups with any of her fans for many reasons but LaflameDaddy was worth the risk. 

“So, I don’t know which one of you sent me a new toy to play with but I’m excited to use it tonight,” Milana reaches behind her with a big smile on her face, grabbing the little pink love egg to show it off proudly, “isn’t it adorable?!! I heard about these things and I’ve always wanted to try it out,” Milana plays with the little antenna with her finger, “this shit is powerful. I turned it on to test it and the vibration is so damn strong...and it’s controlled with Bluetooth technology so I already know whoever got this for me has something planned,” Milana positions herself towards the edge of her heart-shaped bed with her legs elevated and spread wide open. Milana grabs her bottle of oil, tilting it over so that the heated oil can glaze her phat pussy lips. 

LaflameDaddy: your soul is about to be knocked out. 

AlluringAlyssa: I have one! We should FaceTime and cum together!

blackhornyyyvirgin: I can’t wait to see you squirt 😊

Shaq_88: ummmmm 😋

Milana rubs her outer lips, leaning back on her elbow while rolling her hips seductively in the camera. The tips started racking in and LaflameDaddy was tipping in a lump sum amount. In a short amount of time being a cam girl, Milana’s tip goals were hit faster and faster. They tip her because they WANT to see her shows. Milana always does things right, and her viewers anticipate it all day. Her computer chimed each time Milana would show off her yummy pussy. 

LaflameDaddy: $30

LaflameDaddy: $40

LaflameDaddy:$50 

LaflameDaddy: Stop teasing and put that vibrator in…and that butt plug is adorable but I know that asshole is begging for some dick...ummm I see that pussy leaking mama...I wanna lick up every drop of your pussy juice and bury my tongue in your ass 👅

“You’re a nasty nigga, Laflame,” Milana laughs lightly, “You live in Oakland?”

I-love-eating-pussylipss: I’m in Oakland. What's good baby?! 

Nastyasfuckkk: $25 👀

PussiiFairy: Laflame can you tip me too? 🥺 Check out my OnlyFans big dick daddy…

LaflameDaddy: 😈 didn’t I tell you to put that vibrator in daddy’s pussy? Stop playing with me. 

“Okay, daddy, shit,” Milana laughs again before bringing the pink bullet vibrator to her snug entrance, rubbing it up and down her labia before pushing it inside. The pink antenna dangled from her pussy. Milana brings her knees to her chest and with her phone in hand, Milana starts playing some music. The viewers were even more provoked by Milana’s little show when Twista ft. Trey Songz- Girl Tonite started playing. Milana hisses, here golden eyes love-struck as she focused on the camera. Full lips wide with surprise, Milana started panting. There is no way she could hold her moan. A single vein popped out of Milana’s neck and her gluteal muscles clenched. The different vibration patterns were jumbled on purpose so she wouldn’t expect it. 

“FUCK!!!!!” Milana’s fists clenched and her hips left the bed, “Umph, mmmmmmm, uhhhhh, Unh!!!!!” Milana closed her thighs, “Oh my God—“ Milana was creating a puddle of liquid beneath her cheeks, “Goddamn, who is controlling this?!!!”

The vibrations stopped. Milana sat up in her bed, wiping the sweat from her chest. She brings her left hand down between her legs, tugging on the antenna and pulling it out. There, creating a honey trail is her sticky arousal. Her expressive eyes alone showed how shocked she was. That tiny, almighty toy made her squirt and cream in less than a minute. Milana’s golden eyes focused on her camera, wondering just who was the culprit that sent her this heavenly toy. It came with a hand-written card. Milana still remembers those compelling words as if it was recited to her. 

Surrender yourself so I can cater to you.

Submit to my flow.

Aren’t you tired of being in control?

Don’t you deserve a moment to see what it feels like to be catered to.

To have all the attention on you. 

Don’t make me wait...come get on this table. 

Milana was confused by the last bit of the note until she noticed a free pass for an all-in-one spa experience. Infinite Pleasure Day & Nite Spa. Milana heard so much about it. Her best friend, Kobi is a receptionist there. She always talked about how amazing the black-owned business is. Milana had been meaning to get around to it but the pricing was extreme and she already has so many other things to take care of. Car payment, rent, student loans, utilities, cat food, and not to mention anything she needed for herself. Seeing that free pass reminded Milana of how much she needed to relieve stress, reduce muscle tension, and increase her joint mobility and flexibility. A playful smile spread across Miana’s lips as she typed a message on her live chat. 

XMilanaRoseX: Thanks daddy Laflame 🥰 are you gonna come clean me up with your tongue when I’m done cumming on this amazing gift?

LaflameDaddy: girl I would eat all of that. Why don’t you put that toy in your mouth and tell daddy how good you taste so I can bust a nut. You’re welcome cutie. 

Milana sucked on her toy, “It tastes so sweet.” 

DigHerOut_: I wanna eat the hell out of her!!!!

EroticSoulBeauty: fuck that’s so damn juicy 🤤

LaflameDaddy: Yummy...phat creamy pussy...ima indulge in that deliciousness all fucking day when I get you...make your Lil ass cum all over my thick dick. 

Milana lifts one leg up before impatiently bringing the vibrator back to her pussy like it never left. As soon as her vaginal walls clenched the toy the deep, rumbling vibrations damn near galloped through her body. Milana bites on her knee to focus but there was no way in hell she was going to fight off her next nut. Laflame was not playing with her. Milana locked eyes with the camera as if he was staring right back at her. She didn’t need to rub her clit because the intense vibrations had her entire pussy trembling and begging for a release. 

LaflameDaddy: That's a good girl...I wanna suck that phat cum filled pussy baby...let me lick all that for you girl...shit…

LaflameDaddy: DAMN!! 

Milana was leaking all over the place. When she tried to take the vibrator out Laflame turned it up higher causing her fingers to tremor. Her body fell backward against her bed and her hips started rocking back and forth. The vibrations would start off faintly and increase pulsate to a supreme level that has Milana’s abdominal muscles tied up in knots and her heart skipping a beat. 

“Shit daddy you got my pussy cumming so hard…” Milana grabs her nine inch, girthy crystal dildo, sucking on it sloppily while twirling it in her mouth. The vibrations continuously fluctuates and at this point Milana didn’t even anticipate her orgasm——it just happened within the blink of an eye. Dildo slipping from her mouth, Milana yanks the vibrator from her pussy and replaces it with the crystal dildo. Her pussy was jammed-full with the circumference of the dildo. Milana rests the vibrator against her clit at the same time she fucks herself. From the tip and down to the base Milana saturated that dildo, covering its transparency with her cream. 

LaflameDaddy: got me throbbing hard Milana. Can I have some of that pussy? That thick wet pussy needs some dick mmmm 😋 

LaflameDaddy: ima hit that pussy hard...oh you really creaming now...that’s a pussy I’m not pulling out of. 

“This big ass dick...I know how much you like to watch me fuck myself...you wanna stretch me out just like this dick don’t you? both of my holes?” Milana knows exactly what to say to drive Laflame crazy. He tips her money again. 

LaflameDaddy: It would be my please to stretch that asshole open for you...get it used to being filled up to the brim 😩 ima have your ass addicted fucking with me. 

Milana started seeing black spots. Her loud, ear piercing moans were on replay. Milana’s clit was stiff and hypersensitive from the vibrator. It dropped from her shaky fingers and for the third time that evening Milana climaxed. The grip from her pussy around the dildo caused her to squirt yet again. It was the wide tip stroking her G spot that created the water works. Milana blinked tears from her eyes. Words couldn’t describe how hard she just orgasmed. Usually, Milana can last at least an hour in a session, however, her body was so weakened that she couldn’t even sit up in her bed. Every time she tried to touch her clit Milana would yank her hand away because of the heightened sensitivity. Her walls would lock up like a boa constrictor would his prey. 

LaflameDaddy : Milana, you still tryna meet up? I need to take care of that body, baby...I just need one night to change your life, girl...you know you want daddy to make you cum so what’s good?”

XMilanaRoseX: tonight? 🥺

Brownskinmami: Can I join y’all? 😢

DarkskinZaddy: ayo Laflame we can share her bruh! 

LaflameDaddy: Yeah tonight, I’m not playing no games. 

Did this even need a thought process? Laflame sent Milana a $180 dollar tip tonight and that’s not even the highest he’s tipped her. He sent her a gift, spending more money on her when he could simply be a freeloader and watch her cum without emptying his pockets. Laflame made her pussy wetter than any big dick man that had the opportunity to sample her cookies. At this point, she didn’t even care if he wasn’t the best looking guy, his body and his fat dick was enough to convince her that he could do whatever he wanted to her. 

XMilanaRoseX: tonight it is then. My place 😊

LaflameDaddy: Bet. I’ll bring my stuff to set up 😏 ima send you a DM. 

“Hello?” 

Milana spoke into her cell, voice barely audible. Laflame kept his word and sent Milana a DM for her address and cell number. This was probably going to be the only time Milana ever met up with one of her webcam fans. She hoped that he was about that action. 

“Milana,” His smooth baritone voice rocked her like an unsteady boat.

“You said your name is Erik,” Milana nibbled on the rim of her wine glass.

“Yeah, that’s me...I’m on my way to you but I gotta ask you something first if that’s okay.” 

“Sure,” Milana was a little wine drunk, “Ask away.”

“Aight, so, I’m a professional Massage Therapist. I know I sent you a free pass to my spa but I really want to give you the experience at home.” 

A male masseuse. This man was the total package. He’s a freak, he’s an entrepreneur, and he’s got gifted hands. Milana felt spoiled and she wasn’t about to turn down a goddamn massage especially when she needs one tremendously. 

“After all that squirting you were doing you need me to take care of you.” 

“So...are you coming to fuck me or massage me?” Milana cracks a smile.

“I’m coming to fuck you and massage you…”

“Mmm...so what’s your question?” 

“I like to give my clients the full experience, you know? Make them feel appreciated, give them a taste of passion...what do you like? Music playing? Me whispering in your ear? Candles lit to set the mood? What?”

“I’d like all of that actually,” Milana twirled her glass of wine with a blush on her face, “I need that so bad tonight.” 

“Well I got what you need, I’m here to relax you. Are you allergic to strawberries? Coconut?”

“I don’t have any allergies.” 

“Good, cuz I got something special in mind for you, Miss Milana.” 

“A man who’s not only gonna dick me down and slut me out but also worships my body...I want and need this, Erik,” Milana says with a soft, smooth, and pleasant sound of her voice in Erik’s ear. 

“I'm one of those men that likes to take care of a woman... not only dress her in sexy clothes... take her out when the opportunity arises... but pamper her stressed out body with no expectations... treat her to a sensual massage not only to relieve the worries of the world but also to help her heal from the relentless pounding of my always horny and hard dick. Daddy has to take care of his play things.”

“Damn...you have so much passion for what you do.” 

“...Nothing I love more than giving a woman a great massage followed by a deep, strong dick down.” 

“Ohhh yes,” Erik was stimulating Milana’s mind with his sultry tongue, “When I say I need a massage....this is exactly what I mean...what I gotta do to get this treatment on the regular?” 

“Open your door first.” 

Three knocks at her apartment door has Milana jumping up from her spot on the couch, fixing her black silk robe. She tucked a few of her locs behind her ear before sauntering towards her apartment door. With one golden eye, Milana glimpsed through the wide angle lens of the peephole to find a man dressed in athletic attire and carrying a bag on his shoulder and a portable massage table under his left arm. Opening her door, Milana comes face to face with LaflameDaddy himself. He’s wearing a pair of black and gold Nike running shoes, light grey Champion sweats, and a black muscle tee. His tapered locs are pulled back into a ponytail with the sides faded. Erik’s eyebrows knitted together and his onyx eyes surveyed her like she was standing naked before him. 

_________________

Everything on Milana was heavy-set; her breasts, her hips, her pudgy belly, her thighs. Her skin reminded Erik of the rich amber color of honey. Those striking golden eyes and lashes that framed her eyes like black lace are spellbinding. Erik would have never guessed that Milana was a tall, thick woman. His affixed eyes slowly descended her body and when they came to rest on her feet he had to bite back his gravelly groan. Pretty pussy, pretty asshole, and pretty toes. Erik wanted all of them in his mouth. Milana’s French tip acrylic nail lifted Erik’s jaw off of the floor. He chuckles with a bite of his lip. Erik stared at the doe-eyed beauty attentively as he walked into her apartment. Erik notices a few totes piled near her apartment door, a new suede sofa set, a mahogany wood coffee table, abstract black woman wall art, and an open balcony with sheer autumn-colored curtains billowing from the wind of the eventide sky. 

On Milana’s upper left thigh is a large tattoo of a lion with a mandala flower design. She looked like she was fresh from the shower——smelled like it too. Erik sits his bag on her couch and leans his portable massage table against a nearby wall before moving Milana’s mahogany coffee table out of the way to create more room. Erik grabs his massage table and starts setting it up within the space he created. His sexual appetite for Milana became excessive when she took a seat on her couch with her robe loosely wrapped around her body to expose her big tits for him. When her tits spilled out Erik could only smile at her eagerness. 

“Do you offer naked massages?” Milana asks with her beautiful voice like music to his ears. 

“I already planned on doing that. Question is, can you handle it?” 

“I can handle whatever you give me, daddy...I handled that gift you sent me.” 

Erik checked to make sure the massage table was sturdy and secure before strolling over to Milana, taking a seat beside her on the couch. Erik pulls out his phone and unlocks it to show Milana his mobile STD testing results. Negative across the board. Milana did the exact same thing, grabbing her phone and showing Erik her results. Also negative. It was something so mature and sexy about the entire exchange and it made Erik crave her more. Without evening thinking about it Erik’s hand reached out to caress Milana’s exposed left thigh while his hungry eyes drifted to her heavy tits spilling out of her robe. 

“So...then I shouldn’t be worried about how you can handle the way I nurture and admire your body and slut that pussy and ass out on repeat?” 

“No need to worry baby,” Milana’s hands fondled Erik’s biceps, “ Exactly what I need right now, the sooner I get undressed, the sooner we can do it.” 

Erik couldn’t wait to satisfy this freak. Closing the space between them, Erik presses his thick lips against Milana’s. She tasted damn good. He couldn’t combat his tongue and now it was slithering between her full lips and into her wet mouth. He could taste the fruity, tart flavor of the red wine she was drinking. Since it was so silent, the sound of their wet lips smacking with each kiss and their soft moans were amplified. Erik’s lips left Milana’s sticky ones gently but his hand didn't stop stroking her scalp. He doesn’t even remember it being there. The scalp is full of nerve endings and even with the slightest brush of the hair can send tingles through your body. Milana’s eyes closed and her head fell forward slightly. Erik ran his fingernails slightly over her scalp, paying close attention to the space behind her right ear and just above her neck. Milana moaned in his ear when he tugged on her locs in between massaging her scalp. 

“Damn, baby, that shit is amazing,” Milana whispered. 

“This is lightwork, baby,” Erik spoke with a low tone, “Let me relax you...tell me about your day.” 

“It was dull until tonight,” Milana’s lips parted, “mmm, yes.” 

Erik’s hands left her hair and Milana’s breath halted when she could no longer feel his touch. She looked up at him through her lashes with pleading eyes for him to continue. 

“It’s time for me to give you a good, hard, powerful massage that'll really have your ass moaning and weak to these knuckles and fingers.” 

Erik rose from the couch and went to open his bag. He pulls out five different massage oils, a fluffy white towel, a thin white sheet, and three hand-poured massage candles. 

“Aight miss Milana, I want you to take off your robe and go lay on that table for me face down,” Erik dug into the left pocket of his sweatpants and his hand came up with a lighter. Milana unfastens her robe and as she walked to the table she allowed the robe to fall from her body. Erik couldn’t fight the urge to steal a peek when Milana climbed onto the table with her round derrière sitting up. Milana folded her arms and rested her chin there with her head propped up and eyes closed. 

“Which oil would you like for me to use? I have coconut pineapple...it reminds me of having a cool drink in my hand while relaxing on an exotic beach.” 

“That sounds perfect...what are the others?”

“I have Strawberry dreams...it’s pretty sweet. I also have vanilla sandalwood, tropical mango, and island passion berry.”

“That’s a hard one,” Milana giggles, “Uhm...which do you prefer?”

“Well, if it was me and I’m giving my girl a massage I would go for the vanilla sandalwood. That creamy, rich vanilla with that alluring scent of sandalwood...it’s like spending all day in the spa without leaving your home.”

“Then let’s do that,” Milana stroked her locs from her back to give Erik more access. 

“Good choice,” Erik sits the massage oil on Milana’s table followed by the three massage candles. Once that was set up, Erik set fire to the candles before turning off the lamp lights in her living room. The candle gives far less illumination than the meanest of electrical light bulbs, yet it is all Erik’s eyes can take. By the flickering yellow the room is dark, the shapes of the furniture discernible but the colours so muted that they are almost grey. The blend of jojoba and soybean oils with warm notes of amber, cedar leaf,  and lemongrass, was gentle and soothing. 

“Any music preferences?” Erik questioned, his eyes focused on the smooth skin of Milana’s back while he covered her ass with the thin sheet.

“Something sensual would be nice.” 

“I can do that,” Erik says with a smirk before finding his favorite R&B playlist. Discovering the perfect song, Erik let’s it play, before resting his phone on the table. There is a sort of poetry behind real R&B music. Usher’s Nice & Slow was one of Erik’s favorites. He was anticipating showing Milana his skills. Removing his muscle tee, Erik grabs the vanilla and sandalwood oil. The bottles were warmed up before he came. Erik applies a little to his hands before doing the same to Milana’s back. His large, veiny hands rubbed in the massage oil with gliding movements in long, even strokes. He could practically see her worries melt away when his hands started working. 

“Like that?” Erik inquired. 

“Hell yeah,” Milana’s eyes focused on Erik, “you have soft hands for a man.” 

“My guess is you ain’t used to that,” Erik tilted his head down at Milana, “where do you have the most tension?”

“My upper back and my lower back.” 

“Okay...take slow, deep breaths for me...it’ll help you relax.”

“Like this,” Milana demonstrates her breathing for Erik.

“Exactly,” Erik used the whole of his hand and started at the bottom of Milana’s back, moving upward while applying pressure, and then he lightly brings his hands down the outside of her back delicately. His fingertips stroked the sides of her breasts each time he brought his hands down. Milana’s teeth tugged on her bottom lip. This is definitely foreplay. 

“You’ll have me leaving a wet spot massaging me like that.” 

“And I’ll be right here to lick it up when I’m done,” Erik reminds her while maintaining contact without applying pressure as he brings his hands back down. He didn’t forget Milana’s shoulders and neck area. This went on for 3-5 minutes while he gradually increased from light to medium pressure to warm up her back muscles. 

“Mm,” Milana’s brows furrowed.

“Got a lot of tension in your back, girl,” Erik started with a petrissage technique using shorter, circular strokes with more pressure. He rolled and pressed his hands into Milana’s back to enhance deeper circulation. Erik has her moaning with every motion of his strong hands. Erik’s dick tented the front of his sweats. Looking down, he could see his thick rod twisted to the side. Rolling his eyes with a shake of his head, Erik ignored the pulse from his crotch and continued massaging Milana. 

“You are great with your hands, daddy...lawdddd,” Milana hissed.

“It’s nothing like making you feel good with my hands,” Erik whispered.

“Just your hands?” Milana raises a single brow satisfyingly. 

“I promise I'd fuck u just as good if not better...let ur pussy wet my dick up…”

“Talk nasty to me,” Milana gasps when Erik’s fingertips tickle the small of her back. The slightest touch there evoked Milana’s pleasure. Erik lowered his head and started licking and kissing that area. Milana’s head shot up and her hips arched from the table. Erik’s forceful hand pushed her back down. Milana looked over her shoulder at him, her golden eyes unblinking. Erik slowly lowered the thin sheet to the floor, revealing her plump backside. Grabbing the oil, Erik covered Milana’s ass while rubbing it in with his free hand. 

“I can’t wait to stroke this ass...can you take it?”

“Never did it before, I’ve been training with my plugs.” 

Erik spreads Milana’s cheeks and with his thumbs he starts rubbing between her cheeks. That phat pussy from the back caught Erik’s attention and now his thumbs were rubbing up and down her outer lips. Milana’s thighs spread open further for Erik to have more access. With her permission, Erik takes his thumb and pointer finger, spreading Milana’s pussy lips. Her pink glistened like the juiciest piece of fruit. Erik’s tongue is getting hard. He wanted to drop his fat dick all in that pussy. Squeezing his dick through his sweatpants wasn’t a good idea because any type of contact had him ready to bust a nut. 

Walking around the table, Erik stands in front of Milana, his hips leaning over her head. Erik started to perform muscle-lifting strokes to Milana’s back in a twisting motion, “When you finally let me fuck that ass ima have you falling in love with anal for ever. Have you wishing  you would have been given this ass up,” Erik pushed gently down toward Milana’s lower back, massaging the muscles on either side of her spine. 

“With a dick this huge I’m sure you will.” 

Erik lowered his head when he felt Milana tugging on his sweatpants. He didn’t stop her, why would he when that monster needed to be freed. Erik’s hands extended down to Milana’s ass and he started kneading the flesh. Milana brings Erik’s sweats down to rest on his upper thighs and she comes face to face with his dick since he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Grinning, Milana grabs Erik’s dick in her hand and starts jerking it. 

“Fuck, here,” Erik straightens his back, reaching for the massage oil. He squirts some oil on his dick and Milana’s hand. Recapping the oil and sitting it down,, Erik brings his hands to rest on Milana’s shoulders, kneading them gently while she rubbed the oil in on his dick. With both hands now, Milana jerked Erik’s dick like she was grinding pepper. Before her golden eyes like magic Erik’s dick thickened even more in her hand. The oil brought out the beautiful definition of Erik’s veiny shaft and wide tip. Milana’s eyes glossed over and she exhaled deeply when Erik’s thumbs smoothed out the tension from her shoulders. 

“Give me your throat baby... It’s not too much to ask for right?” 

“Definitely not,” the flexible tip of Milana’s tongue stroked the head of Erik’s oily dick while she jerked him with both of her hands in a twisting motion. Erik grew impatient and palmed the back of her head, applying pressure and forcing her to swallow him like he wanted. He didn’t care if there was oil on his dick, all he wanted to see was all ten inches of his dick vanish down her throat. Milana’s noisy sucking blended with the R&B music in the background. With her oily hand, Milana massaged Erik’s nut sack while eating his dick up with her drooling mouth. 

“I see you know how to handle this fat dick with your mouth,” Erik closed his eyes and extended his head, “take care of daddy’s dick baby and I’ll take real good care of you.” 

Milana purposely gags on Erik’s dick while innocently looking him in the eyes. When her lips slipped from around his dick she started jerking him with a smile on her face, “can you please explode on my face daddy?” 

“You’re my sexy dick pleaser?” Erik smoothed Milana’s dreads from her eyes.

“I’m your sexy dick pleaser, daddy...make me choke on your big black dick until I cry...I want you to cum on my face.”

“All over this pretty face? Hm?” 

“Yes, please,” Milana sucked on the tip of Erik’s dick with a tight suction that had Erik’s nut sack so tight it almost retracted into his body. 

“Deeper...open that mouth...stop playing,” Erik pushes forward into her mouth with his toned hips, “oh? You wanna keep playing with me, Milana? I’m gonna put it all in ya throat watch and see,” Erik gripped Milana’s head and started fucking the shit out of her throat like it was a pussy. Yes, he did come here to relieve some tension in her body but he always wanted to slut her out with his fat ass dick. Milana has been teasing him for a few months now. He’s already insatiable when it comes down to pussy. So greedy that he was willing to blow Kobi’s back out in that massage room. Boyfriend or not he was gonna stretch Kobi pussy the fuck out. Now, he finally has Milana’s freaky ass to himself. 

Erik puts it all the way down Milana’s throat and watches her get too messy with it and gag because Erik was training her throat. He held his dick there to remind her of how daddy’s dick is supposed to be sucked. Her tears cleansed her cheeks and just when her nose began to run Erik’s dick drew back from her throat. She stared at Erik’s dick with her eyes crossed like she was bewitched. 

“I love fucking a pretty face...stay focused baby and make daddy nut...fuck, Milana,” She was driving Erik crazy with the jerk and suck combo, “just like that baby...damn...nasty girl, suck that dick,” Erik licks his lips, “Open that pretty little mouth of yours for your daddy,” Erik takes hold of his dick and slaps it on Milana’s tongue, “Fuck I’m about to bust all over your face, hell yeah that’s a good girl, begging for more? So fucking hungry,” Erik painted Milana’s face with his cum and she tilted her head back far enough to catch some in her mouth as well. 

________________

A real-life fantasy is what Milana was experiencing.

She giggled at first, but once she got past the tickle response her laughter was replaced with moans. Milana is on her back now, the front of her body completely exposed for Erik to caress. With his soft, masculine hands Erik rubbed-down Milana’s breasts with the warm oil while his thumbs circled her nipples. At this point, Milana is leaking on the massage table. She didn’t think her nipples could actually get this hard. In between his rubbing, Erik would give her nipples a nice suck to change the pressure. Now, Erik is kissing her neck and moving his hands to her torso. With his hands on her hips, Erik lifted Milana’s back from the table in an arch position. 

“I wanna put my face in your ass and pussy so bad...fine ass.” With his fingertips, Erik stroked Milana’s torso with his onyx eyes ablaze and his dick ready to bust yet again. Milana gives Erik a sultry smile before grabbing his dick in her hand again to remind her of how big he is. Erik’s hands slid against each other in opposite directions across her stomach, repeating it over and over until Milana’s hips thrust from the table. 

“Patience, baby girl...I gotta work my way down,” Erik walks to the foot of the table to stand between her legs. Erik grabs one of her legs, bringing it up so that her foot could rest on his shoulder. Erik used gentle and light pressure near her bones and sensitive areas. As his circular motion increased, the intensity of the massage increased. Milana was up on her elbows from the bed to watch him knead all the kinks out of her legs. She didn’t know how much she needed this until now. 

“You got some pretty feet,” Erik gives Milana’s foot a soft kiss. Grabbing her by the ankle, Erik rests Milana’s toes painted coral pink against his lips. Up and down, Erik rubbed Milana’s toes against his lips. His eyes were enough to show Milana that he was surrendering to her but this time her toes are in his mouth. She never experienced a man sucking on her toes and wouldn’t have imagined how sexy it is to feel and watch at the same time. 

“Mmm, that feels so good, baby,” Milana gasps when Erik’s tongue licked the side of her foot, “You’re such a freak, Erik.” 

With a smirk on his face, Erik uses his teeth now to nibble on her ankle while his hands massage her foot. Using his thumbs, Erik applied pressure to the ball of Milana’s foot and she almost sat up on the table. 

“Yesssss, fuck,” Milana brings her other foot to Erik’s oily chest, “Do this one now...fuck, I like that,” Erik sucks on Milana’s toes, “Unh, fuck, that shit is so damn good baby.” 

With her foot, Milana makes Erik’s dick bounce before dragging her toes down to his balls. Erik’s hips jerked back and he playfully bites down on the side of Milana’s foot causing her to giggle. After massaging her other leg, Erik seized both of her legs, pushing her knees towards her chest. There, covered in oil and sitting phat and pretty between her thighs is Milana’s sweet pussy. Seeing it up close and personal almost made him weep. Rubbing down the back of her thighs, Erik really wanted to eat that hot meaty pussy right now. He would eat that pussy till his tongue fell off. Then there’s her tight asshole. He wanted nothing more than to beat it down from the inside. Same thing for her creamy pussy. Hitting both g spots with reckless abandon and endless precision. Play with that pussy and make her focus on him while he beats that ass into submission...and she better not look away...

“...Perfect ass for anal pleasure.  Do you agree?” 

“Mhm,” Milana moves her hips in a circular motion, “Don’t you wanna eat me up? Have a taste baby? It's good for you,” Milana uses both of her hands to spread her pussy lips. 

“What a beautiful view baby,” Erik’s head disappears between Milana’s thighs and the first thing she does is grab for his hair, yanking it from its ponytail, “I want that pussy cumming in my mouth too since you wanna pull on my hair like that.”

Erik tongued every drop of that delicious sight before his eyes. So much pussy juice. He was absolutely overwhelmed with how much she produced the more he licked. Now, Erik’s mouth is watering and his spit is mixed in with Milana’s wetness. Stunning, absolutely delicious it looks so tasty, how good would it be to taste the juice of this gorgeous pussy. That was Erik’s first thought when he first saw Milana’s pussy on webcam. Pussy is the prettiest thing, he would think while he fisted his fat dick into another explosive orgasm. He was sucking Milana’s pussy into submission. He was sucking not just on her clit but on her inner folds and outer lips as well. Got to get the whole pussy in his mouth to really make her cum. At this point, Milana was Erik’s favorite thing to eat with the way she creamed in his mouth. With the way his lips are slurping up and down her pussy, Milana lost whatever control she had and surrendered herself to him for the rest of the night. 

“Eat that pussy,” Milana’s eyes grew wide when Erik’s tongue started stroking her ass, “oh my fucking goodness.” 

Was Milana really ready? He talked about fucking her in the ass so many times before so she already knows that he will take it by force. He must have read her thoughts because now Erik is fingering Milana’s booty at the same time his mouth found its way back to her pussy. 

“Daddy?” Milana questioned while his finger twirled in her booty, “Are you gonna fuck my ass first or my pussy? Unhhhhhh, fuck,” Milana’s thighs locked around his head.

“You got that phat pussy running away from me?” Erik held Milana in place with one strong arm, “When that hole give up and you finally take it you’ll be hitting my phone for this big dick to fill your ass up anytime...fuck, it’s so damn tight...can’t wait to get in this ass,” Erik stopped talking and continued slurping on Milana’s pussy. Her cries were ignored the more he worked his thick lips over her pussy. She could feel herself getting ready to cum again and it was so strong that Milana’s lower half was lifting from the massage table. Her sweet moans of defeat came soon after she started cumming in Erik’s mouth. She had no other choice but to lay there and take it. His mouth didn’t leave her pussy, he sucked his way through her nut until he felt as if she had enough. 

“That sweet pussy cumming?” 

“YES!!!! Fuck yes it’s cumming for you.”

Erik’s lips were back on it. 

“Yes!!!! Yes, make me cum, make me cum, Unhhhhh fuck,” Milana was frozen but her stiff body didn’t stop Erik from licking up every single drop. When he lifted his face from between her legs, he was glazed from the oil and her juices. 

“I think it’s time for me to massage that pussy with this dick don’t you think? Get up and go to the couch now,” Erik didn’t wait for Milana to answer his question. His fat dick was in his hand and he jerked it with a desperation to finally dig deep in Milana’s guts. Milana sat down on the couch causing Erik to kiss his teeth and slap her right thigh. 

“Turn over,” It was a request that needed to be fulfilled with how deep his voice was. Milana was on her belly again, Erik’s hands landing on her ass with two rounds of rough slaps that stung her flesh, “Daddy’s got your back baby, lift this ass up.” 

Milana carefully positioned herself with her thighs nice and wide and her face resting against the suede cushion of her sofa. 

Mhmmmm,” Erik tapped his dick on Milana’s pussy before grabbing a handful of her ass, pushing himself inside. Even with the amount of lubrication Erik’s dick still expanded Milana’s pussy past limits she wasn’t used to. Sure, she’s taken long dicks before but long and fat? That’s a different story. 

“Is this dick up in your guts?” 

Milana rapidly nods her head the more Erik pushed. Milana had her doubts that Erik was going to fit but he proved her wrong. Erik’s entire shaft fit perfectly inside of Milana’s pussy like a puzzle piece. His hands stroked her oily skin from her twin globes all the way down her arched back and back up to her hips. Gliding in and out of her pussy, Erik can feel Milana reaching back to grab his wrists. 

“If you think I’m about to fuck you with half of this dick because you can’t take it you got me fucked up,” Erik slaps Milana’s hand away a few times before she decided to loop her arm around his, “Nah take this punishment from daddy.” 

“Fuck me just like that,” Milana moaned.

“Fuck you just like that? Oh, now you want this dick?”

“Yes. I need that big fucking dick.”

“This big dick right here?” Erik’s hips smacking against Milana’s ass was vivid in her ears, “All up in this puss with my dick…keep that fucking arch Milana I’m taking this pussy.” 

Erik started off with that rough sex, straight giving it to Milana. As much as she cried she was taking that long dick. It felt so good that the feeling of his dick applying pressure to her stomach was worth it. He was pounding Milana out like he had pinned up tension towards her. It was as if he wanted to leave her pussy shaking. He was punishing her for sure, Milana couldn’t even look back over her shoulder at him. He was making her take responsibility for her actions——teasing him on webcam. 

“I’m pounding this tight little pussy...pussy getting dealt with right?” 

“Unh,” She couldn’t only moan.

“Talk to me, oooh this pussy wet wet…beating this wet shit up baby…come on, open your fucking mouth...tell daddy how much you love this dick.” 

“I love this big dick,” Milana exhales when Erik slows down to stroke her at a moderate pace. Slowing down made Milana feel just how much dick she was taking. Erik would pull out all the way to the tip of his dick then push all the way in down to the base. Milana could feel the urge to squirt and she really didn’t want to do it on her new couch but it was too late. As soon as Erik’s wide tip hit the bottom of her pussy, Milana was squirting on her couch. 

“Got my dick extra messy with this pussy...I needed to fuck you so bad shit ain’t even funny,” Erik slaps her ass, “Make it rain baby, yessss,” Milana was squirting again, and Erik increased the speed of his hips, “pussy so fucking good girl.” 

“Umph!!! Unh!!!!!” Milana was whimpering into the couch, “Erik, please, I’m about to cum!!!!” 

“Fuckkkk!!!” Erik’s jaw clenched from Milana’s grip, “Nasty Bitch taking all this dick you better cum like a good little slut, Milana.” 

Milana did exactly as she was told and made even more of a mess beneath her. Erik starts slapping her ass cheeks around with his dick still buried inside of her. 

“You ready for me to get in that ass?” 

“Uh-huh,” Milana’s eyes rolled shut when Erik’s dick left her quivering pussy. He didn’t bother to tell her to clean off his dick with her tongue because he wanted to use as much lubrication as possible to fuck her in the ass.

“Let’s take this shit to your bed, it’ll be better,” Erik picks Milana up from the couch and carries her towards the direction that she pointed to. The infamous room of Milana Rose. That signature heart shaped bed. Erik lays Milana on the bed while he is on top of her. They both share an intense kissing session with a whole lot of tongue and spit. 

“Come on, girl, bring your legs up,” Erik whispered. 

Milana’s knees are against her chest for Erik to do whatever he wants. Standing from the bed, Erik positioned Milana on the edge so he could have the perfect angle. That asshole is...Erik couldn’t even form words. Dick still wet and Milana’s ass nice and oiled up, Erik bends his knees slightly before planting one hand on the bed while the other grabbed his dick, bringing it to her ass and then with a slow, easy stroke, Erik started pushing and Milana was so nervous that her asshole clenched up.

“You gotta relax if you want me to get in that ass, Milana. It’s okay baby...you’ll love it...I know you will...you’re a nasty slut…” Erik tried again, pushing enough to get the tip of his dick in, “mmmmm, you just might make me cum and I ain’t even have this ass the way I wanted to yet.”

“Daddy it hurts,” Milana pushed at Erik’s abs.

“Hold on I got a little bit more for you...it’s almost in there I promise,” despite her cries, Erik finally conquered the tightest hole he ever fucked. 

“Ima pull out a little bit,” Erik withdrew his hips, “Fuckkkkkkk,” Erik pushed back in, “I should be balls deep but you acting like you can’t take this dick.” 

“It’s too big in my ass,” Milana’s mouth grew wide with shock, “Oh my God it’s in my ass…”

“Milana, stop clenching up,” Erik spoke through clenched teeth, “If you relax I can open this ass up how I want…”

Erik pushes and pushes with his hips. So tight it felt like Milana was trying to squeeze his dick like a tube, “I’m already in there, baby, just take this dick,” Erik’s hands are resting on either side of Milana’s head. She was loosening up for him and her cries of pain turned into soft sighs. Her phat pussy sitting right above her ass needed to be filled too so Erik takes three fingers to finger fuck her. 

“Oooh, shit,” Milana eyes rolled back, her body shaking with only half of Erik’s dick in her, “That big dick looks so good in my ass…”

“Grab my dick and push it in this ass.”

Milana sat up on her left elbow with her other hand reaching between her thighs to grab Erik’s dick. When her hand wrapped around his shaft she couldn’t believe how much of him was left. Adjusting her hips Milana forced Erik’s dick in.

“Take your time to ease it in, I’ll wait,” Erik’s fingers twisted and twirled in Milana’s pussy, “There you go baby, there you go,” Erik moves her hands out of the way, “Hold your cheeks open…” moving his hips, Erik started digging Milana’s ass out. 

“I’m laying this pipe all in your ass-“

“Yesssssss,” Milana really thought she would be able to handle the way he was fucking her but her hands on his thighs pushing him proved to Erik that she wasn’t ready. He didn’t give a fuck, Milana knew what it was from the beginning. 

“Next time, I’m tying your fucking hands down, you can’t take it but you’re moaning while I’m stuffing this ass,” Erik’s fingers rapidly stroked Milana’s pussy, “That's it, spread your cheeks slut and look at this hard dick sliding in and out of your tight little asshole.”

Milana’s eyes connected with Erik’s dick, “Unh, fuck.” 

“You’re a good girl?” His dick started hitting her ass faster.

“I’m a good girl-yes, get it baby.”

“THAT'S what i'm talking about,” Erik could finally go at the pace that he wanted, “Train me daddy, fuck,” Milana’s ass started creaming Erik’s dick, “I’m a good girl I’ll take it in the ass.” 

“Damn, girl…” Erik chewed on his plump bottom lip. 

“Let me show you I’m a good girl,” Milana gripped her sheets and started moving her hips to meet Erik’s strokes. Just minutes ago she was crying about how it hurt and now she is accepting Erik’s fat dick in her ass. 

“Oh yeah? Put that work in for daddy,” Erik’s fingers alternated between rubbing Milana’s clit and fingering her pussy. 

“Yes, daddy,” Milana’s face frowned with ecstasy, “Unh, fuckkkk,” Milana started squirting. 

“Yeah, you’re a good girl, keep squirting, come on,” Erik pushes Milana’s thighs back and pounded her ass. Milana’s hips kept moving and Erik was growing frustrated. Slapping her ass, Erik’s fingers squeezed Milana’s legs harshly and his nails were digging into her skin. He really loved her ass. Milana scratched his abs and slapped his chest. He was getting balls deep in her ass, growling in her ear, biting her neck, and gripping her thighs. 

“If you keep it up daddy will fill this ass up with my fat nut,” Erik whispered in her ear. The squishing sound of his big dick pistoning into her ass as he rocked her body brought him to the brink of climax just as Milana reached hers. 

“This big ass dick got me squirting…UMMMMMMMPH! FUUUUUCK,” Milana pushed that squirt out her pussy and it stained Erik’s dick and thighs. The dick was buried in her ass and yet her pussy still reacted to it. Erik quieted Milana with his lips. He swallowed her cries and pushed himself in deeper to make his balls slap her ass. Unable to hold back any longer, Erik pushed himself all the way in and held it there. Dick pulsating, Erik’s thick cum filled Milana’s ass. Her warm hole drained him dry like she was sucking the life force out of him. Erik couldn’t speak, all he could do was sweat all over her and kiss her lips and face. Pussy a creamy mess, ass filled to the brim with Erik’s cum. Lifting his sticky body from hers, Erik kissed a trail down Milana’s body before his thick lips found her pussy. He used the suction of his lips to clean off her pussy. 

“You still want that free massage? I’m there all next week.” 

Eyes like stars, Milana gives Erik a tired smile with her hand stroking his goatee. It felt so good and so right in his arms and this was her first time with Erik; to accept the adoration that was being given to her. Milana was very certain that Erik has other women waiting in line for the opportunity to have him. What transpired between them has Milana anticipating future sex. If only.

“How does next Friday sound?” 

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @theegoldenchild @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark  @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @munteanhore @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara@honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @informalmelancholy @soulshinechronicles @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @soulfxll @whazzzupmyhitta @seyven89 @lahuttor @janelledarling @shewritestheblues @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns @alittlejd @jaysaidhi @chaneajoyyy @walkrightuptothesun @shawnstacksss @theesotericqueen @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel @bbygirrll05 @fahi0nanart @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102 @yaminax-kuss-a @lackbbaby @amyhennessyhouse @thattruckinwitch @dameshaemonique  @glittermakesmesmile @justgetitoverwith0  @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored @cydneyrenee4 @ajjiiaaahhhh @naeelyniecee @ambthegamer @efonteno @mikesteel20 @wisenerdcreator @draggingstxns @eevolsidog @xoxomyaah @asweet-serendipity @therealmrsmbjordan @ajspencer1892 @queengodiva619 @niqui87 @quietpoeticheart @itsjustyazz @dasia21 @woah-express @bbgiirrll @backandbetter2 @megabriahall @forbeautyandlife @queenflaws @cecereads209 @queenbetter @yomiloo @daddys-baby-girl-t @lovinthemelanin @ladymac82 @ambitionwood @t3mporaa @toniilaney @iv0rysoap @sinfully-dope @lovehatecritique @chocolategirl605 @naysianaee @nyleveeee @erlebnissebliss @melinaasap1 @woahthatshitfat @that-chick212 @scarypumkin23 @sambuckyslayallday @vikki240401 @kuaua98 @enigmadivine @gingerylimonte @counterfeit-recherche @unholyxcumbucket @xdezaraex @missgigglesmoultrie @imrootingforeveryoneblack @dashhoney25 @oversorry @abluesforlyssa @honeybeejaes @admirehermind @wassuduoo @kaykay0829 @woahitslucyylu

[endeavours-firey-pubes]

Selfish intentions.

Warnings: dirty talk, mild slut shaming, fucking in someone else's bedroom, Dom Deku, mentions of panty stealing. NSFW. This is just fucking filth. I did this in basically a quirkless college au so all characters are 18+ aged. Thanks. This is also like 1000 words.

Maybe this was a bad, bad idea. Could you bring yourself to care? Not at all. Not when Izuku Midoriya so eagerly buried his tongue in your dripping pussy, sucking hard at your clit while two of his thick fingers worked open your cunt. Vaguely, you wondered if by the time you were done Katsuki would know you both came on his sheets.

Your hand tangled in Izuku's thick hair, making him moan when you tugged from the scalp. The noise causes your clit to twitch against his tongue from the zap of pleasure it caused. Fuck, why was he so damn good at this? You looked down, watching as he lost himself in your taste, his hips grinding against the sheets of the mattress that were clearly neither of yours. God you could cum right then, knowing your juices stained his face and the sheets below you.

Being in a place you weren't supposed to be in made it so much hotter.

Inwardly Izuku was almost mush, he loved eating you out already but knowing that it was him who was making you feel this way and only him drove it home. He supposed he shouldn't be this petty, after all it's not like he could truly blame Katsuki for his panty thieving but...you were HIS girlfriend and part of him was pissed off that Katsuki had the audacity to even think of you sexually, to think about touching you at all. He resolved, if Kacchan didn't get this fucking hint, if you'd let him he'd fuck you in front of him.

After all, Kacchan had to learn his place; but for right now he was focused on you. Tracing the letters of his name on your clit as his fingers crooked up to hit that spongy spot inside you that had him crying out his name and pulling his hair. He ignored his throbbing length in the confines of his sweatpants in order to properly please you, tasting the sweetness of your release was always his favorite part. He could almost taste how close you were, feeling how your walls fluttered against his fingers as your cries rose in pitch.

His name fell off your lips like prayers in a church and his eyes fluttered when he tasted all you had to offer, lewd slurping noises coming from tasting the sweetness of your cum making it hard for you to think. When he pulled away you could only whine in protest, almost pouting as he took your shaky legs off his shoulders.

“Turn over, hike up that pretty little ass for me princess.” His voice seemed raspier, darker than you were used to as you obeyed his command, yelping when smacked your ass. The sting of it felt good on your heated flesh.

“Good girl, you're already a mess and I've barely started.” You could feel his grin as you hear rustling clothes before feeling his cock head slide between your dripping folds, he was fucking teasing you.  A mewl leaves your lips and you arch deeply, inviting him to slide into you but he continues his teasing instead. Finding your sweet whines and moans intoxicating to his ears and his ego, you're begging for him.

“P-please Izuku, please stop teas- oh!” Your pleads were clipped short as he slid his thick cock home inside you with one thrust. Your ass hitting his thighs with a soft smack. You moaned, you could never get used to how his cock stretched you out. You could feel how every delicious ridge and vein dragged against the walls of your cunt with even the slightest movement. He let himself be still for a moment, his hands rubbing your hips to let you adjust a tad before he started his thrusts.

He was driving you insane, the ridges of his cock dragged against your walls with every slow, mind numbing thrust he made. It felt like he was trying to memorize every inch of your walls he could explore but it was too slow, making your body hot with the need to be fucked like the dirty slut you are. You could tell this was on purpose, Izuku was always a wretched tease when it came down to it. One more pleasurable but oh so slow thrust made you snap at him.

Looking back at him you glared, “Fuck me like you fucking mean it or maybe I'll kick you out and wait for Bakug- OH.” Your words got cut off as a squeal like moan left your lips, Izuku starting a punishing pace as he pushed your head down to the sheets. His movements rougher than you were used to from him, more dominant.

“He couldn't fuck you good as me anyway.” He rasped, fucking into you harder with every word. His hand on the small of your back to keep you arched for him, his other hand gripping your hip. “Look at you, a fucking mess on my cock. Pussy fucking dripping so much I can feel it on my thighs.” You whimpered, not used to how crude he was being, the words making your ears burn but you loved them.

“I'm making you gush more than he could ever dream of and that's the point.” His hand that was on the small of your back crept up to your hair, pulling hard enough to make your back bow, head up and mouth open in a gasp. “You're mine and I'm gonna leave his sheets a mess with the fucking proof that you're mine.” The low tone of his voice sent shots of pleasure right to your core, a wet squelching sound echoing in the small dormitory from just how wet you were and how hard he was fucking you.

“Don't be afraid to make a mess on my cock, on the sheets, cause I'm gonna fuck you til you're squirting all over them.” The hand that was on your hip left to press against your throat, squeezing at it just enough to make your vision blur.

“He'll like it anyway. Since the fucking pervert steals your panties, I'm gonna make sure your juices even stain his pillow.” If you could see Izuku, you'd have seen the feral glint in his eyes as he sped up his thrusts. Determined to fuck you into an oblivious, incoherent mess while he had the time.

Katsuki had returned late in the night to his dorm, wrinkling his nose slightly when he opened the door at the smell of what seemed like sex. He looked around, brows furrowed in slow building anger but everything looked the same. Except one thing, a pair of very familiar red laced panties rested, soiled on his desk. There was a note with them that said enjoy and he recognized that it was the shitty nerds handwriting.

“Fucking Deku.” He rasped, trying to ignore the fact that his cock stirred in his gym shorts.