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grimalkinmessor · 8 months

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Aideku with blood (smut) 🙏❤️

Sorry this took so long, smut is hard 🥲How about a vamp AU? :3 Warnings in the tags ✨

Aideku/Smut/Blood

———

Izuku is nervous.

"Don't be such a pussy, Deku," Tsubasa jeers, shoving him forward. The mausoleum looms in front of them, haloed by the setting sun. "It's one night."

"Yeah, you can handle one night in an empty building, can't you?" Neiru laughs. "Or...mostly empty, anyway. Aside from a few corpses."

Izuku swallows. "I-I can do it! I just—"

"Good," Neiru interrupts, stepping up to open the big stone door. It opens with a grating moan, a vast expanse of black yawning beyond it. Neiru gives a mocking bow. "In you go then!"

Nails biting into his palms, Izuku sets his jaw. "...I do this, and you'll give me my picture back?"

Tsubasa throws an arm around Izuku's shoulders, leaning in close and making his skin crawl. "Aw c'mon, Deku, we're friends, right?"

They haven't been friends in years.

"It's just a little game. The picture's just insurance that you won't chicken out. We'll give it back if you make it the whole night without bailing."

Izuku doesn't believe him. But what choice does he have? If he refuses, he doubts they'll hand it over—it's more likely that they'll rip it up right in front of him. Besides, Izuku is less concerned about spending the night in a mausoleum than he is Tsubasa and Neiru letting him out in the morning.

But even if they don't, Izuku is crafty. He'll figure it out.

Tightening his hold on his backpack, Izuku strides forward into the tomb.

"Finally! Thought we'd have to throw you in," Tsubasa complains, and Neiru snickers as he begins to push the door shut.

"Have fun, Deku!"

Before Izuku can even reply, the door thuds shut, and the bar scrapes back into place over it from the outside. Izuku waits a moment before fumbling for his phone, turning on the flashlight to get a good look around. It's not that big of a space really, but it's full of cobwebs and coated in a thick layer of dust. It's clear that these ancestors haven't been visited in a very long time. There's about six plaques on either wall, some of them so old that the kanji has worn down so much he can't make out the names. They're so old that Izuku wouldn't be surprised if there were actual bodies behind those plaques rather than just urns full of ash.

And speaking of bodies—the biggest thing in the room is the long stone slab directly opposite the door. It has no plaque on it, but the seam between the heavy stone lid tells Izuku that it's likely a coffin, which means that he really is locked in here with a corpse.

Izuku gulps. It's fine. It's fine. He can handle this. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Shaking his head, Izuku finds a fairly clean spot in the middle of the room and sits down, shrugging off his backpack to rifle through it. First things first; he pulls out his actual flashlight, shutting his phone off to preserve the battery. He clicks his flashlight on and sets it on the floor like a tiny lamp, before tugging out one of his textbooks. Might as well get some work done while he's stuck here.

He's almost out of high school now, looking into nearby colleges so he can stay close to his mother—which makes it all the more pathetic that he's still getting pushed around by people like Tsubasa and Neiru. Granted, it's not as bad as it used to be, but it's still irritating.

Izuku tries to ignore his surroundings as he works his way through the next chapter, gnawing on his pen and occasionally jotting down notes in the margins. This works for a while; he manages to make his way through two whole chapters without much trouble. He loses track of time a bit, until—

—something skitters across his foot.

Izuku shrieks, throwing himself back on instinct, leg flailing as he tries to stand only to end up toppling harshly against the casket behind him. Yelping, Izuku crashes back to the ground, clutching his shoulder with a wince. It throbs when he touches it, and he hisses quietly. That's going to bruise.

Grabbing blindly for his flashlight, Izuku staggers back to his feet and looks around for whatever just tried to climb his pants leg. He sees a spider the size of his hand sprint into a crack in the wall, and Izuku shudders, making a soft 'blegh' sound.

Swinging the light around slowly, Izuku freezes when he realizes that his flailing has pushed the lid of the stone casket aside. "Sh-shit," Izuku whispers, anxiety spiking. He sets the flashlight down again, face up, the light dispersing throughout the tomb enough to give the place a dim glow. "Shit, shit, shit—"

Hands shaking, Izuku approaches the cracked casket and tentatively peers inside. He expects to see some withered husk of a thing, or maybe nothing but bones and dust given how old this tomb seems—he's very much not expecting what looks like the perfectly preserved corpse of a man who couldn't have died more than a year ago.

Izuku blinks, squinting. The flashlight glow is dim, but from what he can see it's a man with long, dark hair and a riot of stubble. The white and black yukata he's wearing is shockingly pristine, pale hands folded calmly over his stomach. There are no signs of decay at all, not beyond the ashen white of the corpse's skin. Unable to help himself, curiosity ad incredulity flaring, Izuku reaches forward and touches the man's cheek. The flesh is stone cold—not quite icy, but certainly not full of warmth. There's a bit of give there too, the flesh porcelain but still somehow soft.

Brow furrowing, Izuku slides his hand down to press two fingers to the corpse's white neck. He's no sure whether he's surprised or relieved to find no pulse.

Izuku barely has time to register this however, because mere seconds later a hand snaps out and fists in his uniform jacket, yanking him down and in to the coffin. Izuku yelps, panic spiking, as he crashes onto the cool body settled in the slab, mouth opening to scream as the stone lid of the casket slams back into place.

But no sound escapes his mouth, because in the sudden darkness he feels teeth slice into his throat—before pleasure overtakes him.

Izuku gapes at nothing as a solid arm latches around his waist, tight enough to bruise and yet somehow still seeming absentminded. The subtle rasp of stubble rubs against his neck, and Izuku smells the faint scent of blood as lips move and hum quietly against his pulse. The electrifying feeling of heat spiders out from the point of contact, spreading through Izuku's body and pooling in his gut. Izuku's eyes flutter, a weak noise escaping his mouth as his hands flex and paw at the chest of the-the thing beneath him. He's not sure whether he means to push it away, or draw it closer.

Izuku feels his blood spilling slowly down his neck, thick and hot, and the pieces slot together in his bewildered, fuzzy mind.

Vampire.

He is locked in a tomb—a coffin—with a monster of legends. It's feeding off of him, stealing his blood, likely killing him...

But Izuku can barely bring himself to care.

A ragged groan scrapes out of his throat as the vampire sucks out his lifeblood, ecstasy filling him in its place. He feels his cock stiffen, pressing tight against the seam of his pants as Izuku's eyes roll back in delirious elan. Through the haze, his ever analytical mind notes that the man's hands are skating up and down his sides, one fisting loosely in his hair to pin his head at a better angle. The chill of the corpse's skin is slowly being replaced by warmth, siphoning off Izuku's body heat as well as his blood.

Izuku gasps as a leg juts up beneath him, a muscled thigh slipping in between his legs and pressing against his erection. The pressure makes him tremble, little hiccups of sound lilting out of his mouth as he instinctively rocks his hips down in helpless little jerks, each movement giving him another jolt of pleasure.

A tongue swipes over his bloodied neck, the white-hot bliss of those teeth leaving him for a moment as the monster beneath him cleans him up. Izuku whines at the loss, a quiet desperation striking through him.

'No, no, come back, I'm almost...'

He moans shakily as he feels those fangs pierce the other side of his neck, drawing out his blood and sending him high once more.

"A virgin...?" a low voice purrs, sleepy and bemused and...in his head?

The hands on him tighten, and Izuku whimpers as it sends another spike of arousal through him. He has the vague sense of shame, of embarrassment, at the way he's humping the man's leg, rubbing the tent in his old jeans against the silky white fabric of the man's yukata—but it's a faint sensation. His anxiety is drowned out by the sheer amount of ecstasy coursing through him. Izuku feels it building in his stomach, coiling in his gut as his toes curl and his thighs clamp tight around the muscled thigh beneath him.

He's close, he so close, he—

Red glow fills the space, casting the figure beneath him in a crimson haze. His eyes are a brilliant, luminous scarlet, and the light of them makes the blood painting his mouth look black.

"Your lust..." the man rasps, hands skating up and down to fasten around Izuku's hips. His voice is low and wet, and Izuku can smell his own blood on his breath. "I can taste it."

Then the monster yanks Izuku's hips down, forcing him to grind up against the man's stomach. Izuku cries out, sobbing as the force, the crush, the smell sends him toppling over the edge of orgasm. He cums so hard his vision goes white, mouth open in a soundless wail as wave after wave of pleasure crests over him, shocking up his spine and curling in his scalp. He forgets to breathe for several precious moments, knocked breathless by it.

Vaguely, he feels the man's mouth on him again, trailing his tongue against the newest wound. Izuku's eyes flutter, and he collapses fully on top of him, lost in the afterglow. He's not sure whether the dizziness he feels is because of his orgasm or the blood loss, and he's not sure he particularly cares either. His limbs feel like jello.

"Mm, you're type O," that low voice muses, a hand trailing up and down Izuku's spine. "I thought it was merely that I hadn't fed in so long, but it's no wonder. Best way I've woken up in a long time." The hand pauses, and the red glow now saturating the inside of the coffin flickers. "Mind telling me what year it is?"

"It's..." Izuku begins, the question booting his brain back into gear. His thoughts begin to race as he blinks rapidly to clear his head, a myriad of questions and emotions and reactions flashing across his mind in quick succession. "I-It's 2237."

"A little over four hundred years this time," the man murmurs, brow furrowing in contemplation. "Odd. Someone usually wakes me up every turn of the century."

"U-Um, sir," Izuku tries after a moment, wriggling in mortification when he feels the mess he's made in his pants. "Can you, um, let me out now? If y-you're not going to finish me off?"

'Why would you ask that, WHY would you—'

"I would," the monster begins absently, licking a stray trail of Izuku's blood from the corner of his lips. He's looking at the faintest trickle of light that can be seen from the seam of the stone lid. "But it seems like it's still daylight out. The mausoleum must've collapsed..."

Izuku attempts to push himself up, but the idle hand on his back isn't as idle as he thought. Vampire strength, he realizes quickly. Biting his lip, he tries not to think of the bruises already blossoming on his hip. "No, that's just my flashlight! It's actually very late, so it's safe for you to let me out, I promise!"

Scarlet eyes narrow at him, grip tightening, and Izuku squeaks like a dog toy when those fangs scrape against his neck again. "You're not lying to me, are you? Little lust thrall?"

Izuku's face flushes brightly, and the man noses his cheek almost instinctively, as if following the blood flow. "I-I'm not! I'm not lying, I swear! Please, just—I don't want to die," he finishes weakly, hands fisting tightly in cloth pooling by the monster's sides.

The man's eyes soften slightly, and he sighs. The tang of warm iron feathers against Izuku's face. Reaching behind them both, the man swipes the lid to the side with one hand, the rough scrape of stone on stone making Izuku wince. Before Izuku can even move, he finds himself being hauled up and set outside the coffin on his feet. He staggers immediately, knees still weak, and nearly falls.

A calloused hand pushes against his back, keeping him upright. Izuku swallows and blinks away the spots crowding his vision, stumbling away to pick up his flashlight.

He turns again, cringing at the wet feeling between his legs. The man is sitting up in his box, peering at him curiously. Unable to help himself, Izuku tentatively asks, "So... you're n-not going to eat me?"

Tipping his head, the man gives him a hooded smile, dark hair shadowing his face as he answers, "Not anymore than I already have."

Izuku's face feels so hot he'd work well as a heat lamp.

The man steps smoothly out of his tomb and, to Izuku's surprise, folds into a bow. "Aizawa Shouta."

More habitually than anything, Izuku bows back. "Midoriya Izuku. It's, uh, nice to meet you?"

Aizawa smirks at him, the tips of his fangs flashing. "Well, Midoriya," he says, practically purring out the name. Izuku's breath catches. "Thank you for the meal. I hope you'll allow me the chance to taste you again. In a place where I can properly see you, this time."

With that, Aizawa rises from his bow and swirls into shadow, racing out of the doors of the mausoleum and leaving them banging open behind him. Moonlight spills into the tomb, and Izuku watches Aizawa's shadows zip through the cemetery and out into the night.

He has a feeling that he's just got himself into far more trouble than he knows.

#spooky prompts #my writing #aideku #smut #bnha #boku no hero academia #vampires #also i embellished this a little because japanese coffins are THICK aint no way one person is getting the lid off one of those things #tw dubcon #tw -18 #<- new tag bc tumblr keeps censoring the ones with the actual words in them #yes i am still pissed about that #tumblr is turning into a catholic church #anyway! sorry this took so long! dicks are hard :'D #asks #acerbicangryeel #long post #grim scribbles

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cabotwife · 1 year

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okay so hopefully your requests are open - i genuinely don’t know how to work tumblr 🥲🥲, anyway, would you be interested in writing like domestic olivia benson x fem reader fluff. like for example, getting the kids up for school, breakfast, maybe a child’s first day of school and reader and liv are so nervous/crying sort of thing. ultimately you have free range here, just some sort of ideas with this!

Growing Up..

Thanks for requesting Anon! I’m sorry this took a bit to do, but I really love the concept!

warnings: poorly written fluff

word count: 848

a/n: Requests are open everybody! I write for quite a few fandoms, which I will make a later post about to clarify.

Olivia groggily opened her eyes, her body still heavy with sleep. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the bright light of the morning sun that was streaming through the window. As she shifted in bed, she felt the warmth of her wife’s body next to hers. y/n was already up, and Olivia could smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting into the room.

Olivia stretched her arms and legs, letting out a soft sigh. She had her first day off in what feels like forever, and she was looking forward to spending it with her family. She turned to y/n, who was now sitting up in bed, sipping her coffee.

"Good morning," Olivia said, her voice still husky with sleep.

"Good morning, Liv," y/n replied, smiling at her. "How’re you feeling today?"

Olivia groaned. "I don’t know.. It's Maya's first day of school, and I just can't believe she's already starting kindergarten. She's growing up so fast, too fast."

y/n nodded in agreement. "I know, it's crazy. But Maya is going to be just fine. She's a smart and brave little girl, just like her mom."

Olivia smiled, feeling a surge of pride. She leaned over to kiss y/n, feeling a rush of affection. They had been married for a few years now, but Olivia still felt that same spark of love and desire every time she looked at her wife.

They got out of bed and headed to the kitchen, where y/n had already prepared breakfast for the family. There were pancakes with maple syrup, crispy bacon, and scrambled eggs with cheese. Olivia's stomach rumbled as she took in the delicious smells.

"Wow, y/n, this looks amazing," the brunette said, taking a seat at the table.

"Thanks, love," y/n replied, pouring her a cup of coffee. "I figured we should start the day off right, especially since it's such a big day for Maya."

Olivia nodded, feeling grateful for her wife’s thoughtfulness. The woman ate her breakfast in comfortable silence, savoring the flavors while y/n went to get the kids up. Maya and their other two kids, Noah and Eli, soon joined Olivia at the table, chattering excitedly about the day ahead.

After breakfast, Olivia and y/n helped the kids get ready for school. They brushed their teeth, combed their hair, and packed their backpacks with all the necessary supplies. Maya was especially nervous, clinging to Olivia's leg and refusing to let go.

"It's okay, sweetie," The woman said, kneeling down to give her daughter a hug. "You're going to have so much fun at school today. You'll make new friends and learn new things. And me and mama will be here to pick you up at the end of the day."

The little girl sniffled, wiping away tears. "Okay, Mommy. love you."

"I love you too, baby," Olivia said, feeling her own eyes tear up. She gave Maya another hug before standing up.

"Alright, kids, let's go," the y/h/c woman said, her voice cheerful and reassuring. "We don't want to be late."

They headed out the door, Olivia and Maya holding hands and the others trailing behind them. They walked to the school, which was just a few blocks away from their house. Noah and Eli gushed about the Pokémon cards that their uncle had just bought them. The air was crisp and cool, and the leaves on the trees were starting to turn golden and red.

As they approached the school, Olivia felt a lump in her throat. She couldn't believe how quickly time had passed, how her little girl was now starting her academic journey. She hugged Maya once more, feeling a rush of love and pride.

"Good luck, sweetie," Olivia said, her voice thick with emotion. "I'll see you later."

The small girl smiled bravely, waving goodbye. "Bye, Mommy. Love you."

Olivia watched as her daughter walked into the school, feeling a mix of joy and sadness. She knew that Maya was going to do great, but it was hard to let go. She turned to y/n, who was looking at her with understanding and compassion.

"You okay, Liv?" y/n asked, squeezing her hand.

Olivia nodded, feeling a tear roll down her cheek. "Yeah, just emotional. It's hard to see Maya leave."

"I know," The y/h/c woman said, pulling Olivia into a tight embrace. "But she's going to be just fine. And we'll be here for every step of the way."

Olivia smiled, feeling grateful for y/n’s love and support. She wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. They stood there for a few moments, watching as the other parents dropped off their kids and the school day began.

As they walked back home, Olivia felt a sense of contentment wash over her. She had a wonderful family, a wife who loved her, and children who were growing up into amazing human beings. Life was good, and Olivia knew that she had everything she needed to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

#olivia benson #olivia benson x reader #olivia benson fluff #law and order svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit #law and order imagine #svu #svu imagines #l&o svu #fluff #requests open

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reader010 · 1 year

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I have been obsessing about @skippyin's Lost in New York AU. So much so that I made a short 1-hour writing dump about Luigi trying to find and rescue Bowser Junior from Brooklyn. Thought I'd share!

(Definitely not head-cannoning Luigi as Junior's surrogate second parent. Dear god what has the Bowuigi done to me 🥲).

---

Luigi was sweating. It was that cold, clammy sweat that clung to the skin and made him feel sick. Or was that just the sinking feeling in his gut, screaming at him that something was irreparably wrong?

He didn’t have the precious seconds to waste on determining which.

“Junior!” The young koopaling’s name launched from his lips, only to be drowned out by cars rolling down the overpass overhead. It was so loud – too loud. Nothing like the plumber’s peaceful life in the Mushroom Kingdom.

But Luigi came back for a purpose – da Dio he would accomplish it.

“Junior!”

He was going to bring the kid back. Kicking and screaming – most likely – but he’d get Junior out of here and back to his father, regardless of the young prince’s desires. An uncharacteristic confidence had overtaken the plumber. Luigi’s resolve was unshaken as he trekked through his old hometown, scouring the shadows which wrapped the streets in the ephemeral glow of dusk.

Luigi paid no mind to the rickety old apartment complex at the edge of the block, where he and Mario had made many a house call, back in a time when he had called this foreign place home. He didn’t think about the greasy pizza place on the corner where two broke bachelors could find a cheap meal; the old high school a couple streets down hardly registered.

“Junior!” No, the only thought in Luigi’s mind was to find the little koopaling. Find him quickly, before he was lost entirely, disappearing into the big city; find him fast, before anything else could happen.

…

But by the time he did, it was already too late.

Luigi had nearly passed the alleyway when he heard it. Sniffling. The earnest attempt of a child holding back his tears. The human leaped to attention as his eyes tracked the sound to their source, spotting a figure curled up in a black hoodie.

“Junior!” Luigi scrambled into the alley, to the aid of the young koopaling. The sniveling and shaking body hardly seemed to notice him; bright red eyes bristling with tears as Junior tried to bury his face into his sleeves. Acting on instinct, the plumber reached out to comfort the child, only for Junior to flinch away from him.

Luigi retreated his hand. With a frown etched across his face, he carefully looked over the young prince. He didn’t look injured, per se, but there was certainly plenty of evidence to some sort of scrap: the backpack he was wearing to cover his shell looked battered, with a few spikes poking out from its holes. His yellow shorts were stained with dirt at the knees. And…

…and his signature paintbrush lay, snapped in two, at the koopaling’s feet.

“Aye…” Luigi’s heart shattered in his chest. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of laughter, coming from a group of teenagers. But all the plumber’s focus was on the young child in front of him. “Mio bambino…” Unable to touch the crying koopaling, Luigi’s own vision began to fog.

“Can we just…” Junior spoke between sobs as his little act began to burst. “I don’t like it here,” he cried loudly. Luigi could do nothing but watch as the tears flowed freely down the prince’s face, the koopaling clamping his jaw tight to hold back anymore cries.

There it was.

There was the Brooklyn Luigi remembered.

The city that chewed up and spat out its inhabitants; that made people feel small and powerless. Just because it could. Just because it wanted to.

The Brooklyn Luigi had never wanted to return to.

The Brooklyn Luigi had so desperately wanted to keep Junior safe from.

“Sì mio figlio,” he extended his arms out to the young prince; Junior leaped into the plumber’s embrace as the tears continued to pour. A wet snout smeared against his overalls as Luigi picked up the turtle-shelled child to hold in his arms, hardly noticing the sharp spikes scratching against his wrists through the fabric of the bag.

“Let’s go home.”

#luigi #bowser junior #mario #super mario bros #super mario brothers #lost in new york au #bowuigi if you squint #writing dump

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