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longshotlink · 1 year ago

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This is messy and started as filling out questions that then slowly turned into just writing a story. I don't have names for almost anyone, but I've been struggling to write, so here, have this.

I inherited a piece of jewelry. It's a ring. It's a dark metal band, or is it stone? She can't quite tell. A larger gemstone that shifts from black to smoky white depending on the light is centered on it. It's an oval shaped gem. To either side of the gem along the band is swirling filigree.

The ring is clearly magical. No ordinary ring would resist description so. I inherited it from a distant aunt. I only met her a few times and it always seemed like my parents wanted her to leave. I feel similarly shunned by my parents. Being queer was always like nettles just under their skin, waiting to prickle them the wrong way and turn their ire on me. I have no proof my aunt was queer too, my parents didn't let us speak much, but holding onto the ring helps me feel less alone.

I grew up around animals. I really wish it wasn't a metaphor. Sure, my father had a dog, but it was his dog, and I wasn't allowed to play with it. Thinking now, I don't even know its gender. That's kind of fucked up. Unfortunately, that's still not what I meant.

Where I grew up, people were always hungry. Hungry for power and standing. My parents tried to steer me to boys of other families they thought would advance their position in their society. The boys went along with it. Why wouldn't they? They benefitted from having quiet, subservient girls handed to them. I was never quiet enough, never compliant enough for their tastes. I always had to be on my guard or they'd simply take what they wanted, like an opportunistic predator picking off the weak.

…Growing up like that sucked. I'm too guarded now, even around people I consider close friends.

My family is extraordinarily wealthy. You don't get that way unless you exploit others. I hate what they do with their money, and the way they hoard it. I'd donate a lot of money away, but I have no access to the money. Father is the only one with access to it, and he gives it out sparingly. Since I'm a disappointment of a daughter, I only receive money when it's absolutely necessary. I've seen my father give suitors more money than I've ever held in my hands. I think I'm close to escaping this hell, but if I'm not careful they'll never give me another chance.

To say I'm stuck in a cult is an understatement. This community is basically a locked down military base miles from the nearest city. Only those in the top echelon leave, and then only if they're male. Everything is shipped in, and while we're not short on space here, I've always felt confined. There seems to only be one road in and out and the rest is surrounded by dense forest.

Only the fact that I'm queer and cause my parents shame gives me any sort of freedom. But I feel that time closing. I've heard them speaking of fixing me. That on my upcoming 20th birthday, they're going to have my suitors 'show' me what I'm missing. They think they can fix me, I think they can fuck off.

It's been hard to plan, but I think I've come up with an escape plan. All this place sees me as is a pretty face and a breeding vat. They see me as a link to my parents' wealth. They don't know me, none of them. Especially not my parents. I don't know how so many people buy into this place, but I want out. They won't allow me to just walk away, so for me, it's do or die. If they catch me…I won't allow them to keep me any longer.

Shit. When did the McMillians have a kid? They're showing her around like a piece of prize cattle. She's got to be only five or so and they've already got adult men looking at her like she's an object at auction. Oh, she looks so scared. I wonder if I can get her out too. I don't know why I'm thinking this. A child that young isn't going to want to be separated from her parents and I don't know how to take care of a kid while we're on the run anyway.

…She won't be safer here, but I can't do it. I'm not capable of saving her. I'm not sure I'm even capable of saving myself.

The night of my escape is upon me faster than I ideally wanted. But if I don't do this now, I'll never escape. I manage to sneak out of the house and across town. The workers at the loading dock are busy bringing in the month's shipment.

Bright lights illuminate the space, but shadows still gather along the walls. I don't plan on being seen, but I've prepared for if I am spotted. Just before leaving the house, I used a stolen knife to slash my hair down to the shortest it's ever been. I've also wrapped my chest and stolen clothes from my father's hamper. They're dirty and rumpled, but I'm hoping that'll sell them as mine if anyone might question why they don't exactly fit.

I crawl through the warehouse space, keeping to the shadows best I can, walking with purpose when I can't. I'm nearly to the shipping vehicles when I feel a tug at the hem of my shirt. I nearly startle right out of my skin as I make eye contact with the world's saddest eyes. It's the McMillians' daughter.

"Are you leaving? Can I come?"

This is the last thing I expected. The last thing I needed. In the distance I see an open office door and vaguely remember Mr. McMillian runs the shipment warehouse. She must have been brought here by her parents and she saw me crossing the warehouse.

I cough and put on a gruff voice that I'm wishing I'd practiced more now.

"I'm going with the shipping vehicles, yes. But you should run along back to your daddy." I crouch and make a shooing motion. Her eyebrows drop comically into a glare.

"I know who you are. My daddy talks about the disgr-, disgra-, bad girl no one in town likes. He pointed you out to me once and told me not to be like you. But you're leaving now and I want to come with you. Daddy's been preparing me for my future, he says. It hurts though, and mommy doesn't do anything about it and I hate it! Please don't leave me here!"

I wasn't expecting such a rant from this pintsize. I quickly shush her, looking around for anyeone who might notice us. We're currently alone in some dark shadow, but I can hear the vehicles starting and know I'm running out of time. I stand and half turn toward the vehicles. She lets out a harrumph.

"IF you don't take me with you, I'll tell on you and you won't leave either."

Crap.

"Fine, fine, fine! But we've got to go, now. No time for goodbyes."

"That's okay. I don't want to say goodbye."

She looks resolute. I shake my head at the life we've lived that she's already so eager to escape. But I can't fault her. Her father sounds like a real piece of shit. I hope I can get us both out of here safely.

I take the bag off my back and flip it around to rest on my chest before crouching back down and offering her a ride.

"We've really got to go, and I don't think you're fast enough, so just hold on and stay quiet. I'll get us out of here."

She nods in reply and I start running. Stealth is less of an option now, with the vehicles beginning to move. The vehicles have a loud engine and the warehouse echoes that noise all over, but I still flinch at every odd sound. There are two men standing at the loading dock watching the vehicles leave. I need to get past them, but they don't look like they're leaving. I whisper up to the McMillian girl.

"Close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you to, okay?"

I feel her nod. I creep behind the men as quickly as I dare. I slide the knife from my pants pocket. I hoped I would be able to get out without violence, but I don't think I have a choice anymore.

With the sound of the vehicles drowning out my footsteps, I step up behind the closest man, grab him by the chin and plunge the knife into his throat. He gurgles and blood covers my hands. I start to shudder at the feeling, but jolt when the other man grabs my arm. I cry out and try to throw him off, but he's much stronger than me. He wrenches the knife from my grip and pushes me out the door, away from the dying man.

I nearly fall as I stumble on unfamiliar ground, but manage to stay upright. The girl tightens her grip around my throat and I choke for a moment. I focus on the man coming toward us. He's shouting, but I'm not registering his words. His friend is lying still on the ground behind him in a growing pool of blood.

The dock worker raises the very knife I'd killed his friend with and makes to plunge it toward my chest. I throw up my arms. It's a flimsy defense but it's all I have now.

As I flinch, a pulse in my finger echoes into my body. The ring, my aunt's ring, flares. Flares a violent light, a curious light that I'm able to see without being blinded. I realize there seems to be some barrier of shadow between me and the light.

The man has no such barrier. The light is blinding and he drops the knife in his attempt to cover his eyes. The light disappears as the man falls to the ground. A swirl of black and white light covers his eyes and I realize he can't see me at all. I scramble for the knife before he's able to recover it.

I consider taking advantage of his ailment, but the thought of taking another life tonight fills me with nausea. He's groping blindly on the ground now, like he'll find his sight among the dirt and stones. I take a step back, two steps, and then I'm turning and sprinting for the vehicles.

There's only one left, and it's starting to move. I barely reach the rear bed of the vehicle and pull myself as quietly into it as possible. The vehicle doesn't immediately stop, so I don't think I've been seen. I crouch down behind a crate and breathe heavily.

Muffled crying startles me out of my relief. It's then that I realize the little girl is still hanging on and is weeping through closed eyes onto my back.

I hastily wipe my hands on my bag before tossing it further into the vechile's bed. I slide her hands off my neck and gently lower her to the floor.

"Hey, you're okay. We're okay. We made it. You can open your eyes now."

She does and I can see tears streaming down her face. She's trying very hard to be quiet though, and I recognize that instinct to suffer silently from my own childhood. I pull her into a tight hug.

"It's okay. You're okay now. We're going to be just fine now. You can talk to me about how you're feeling. I'm not going to ignore you."

Her response is quiet enough that if she hadn't been right next to my ear, I wouldn't have heard her over the engines.

"I know you told me to close my eyes, but I know what you did. You killed someone. Did you have to kill him? He didn't do anything to us."

"I…don't think I had any choice. If I'd tried to run past, he would have alerted others and we'd have been stopped before we could get away. I'm sorry. I did what I thought I had to."

She has no more words, only sobs as the vehicles moves through the forest, the half moon shining dimly through the thick branches.

I do my best to comfort her as she cries herself to sleep. My own tears stain into my father's shirt as I hold her close to my chest. I don't even know this girl's name and I've taken responsibility of her entire life now. What the hell am I doing?

As her tears slowly ease into sleeping breaths, I look at my aunt's ring in the dim moonlight. The gem looks gray in this light, no matter which way I turn it. What had happened back there? It had never done that before. It seemed like magic, but I'd not exactly been tutored on the specifics of magic. That I knew of magic at all was thanks to books that she'd found as a child. Even those had been burned as outside propaganda when my parents found me reading them.

/i/I wonder why it activated now. I've been struck before while I was wearing it. Though it's been several years now. Maybe my age has something to do with it./i/

I look down at the child drooling on my chest. I lightly brush the hair out of her face.

/i/She's been through a lot already. I wish I had known of her earlier, though that was probably intentional. Easier to mold her when you're all she's known. I hope I can get us far enough away that no one from that place ever finds us./i/

Tiredness washes over me and I struggle against it. When we break from the trees I need to get us off this thing before anyone notices us. Thankfully, with her cuddled up to me, heat isn't as much of an issue as I had initially worried. For now though, I needed to keep my wits about me. I shake my head to clear any drowsiness. My eyes don't seem to get the message, and they slowly flutter closed.

"Maybe closing my eyes for a few minutes wouldn't be a bad idea. I won't fall asleep though," I mumble, already losing consciousness.

#my writing #magic #fantasy #sort of #not sure what genre it'd end up falling into

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areallybadwriter · 2 years ago

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11/17

november has moved very fast and i barely know what's going on! november is always hard because it starts to get real cold where i am and daylight savings time messes everything up. the cold always makes me a bit lonely and i yearn and i pout. im trying to offset that as much as possible by eating good and going to the gym and getting enough social time (also making myself busy) but its really hard and i just want to curl up in a ball.

as to the yearning, i don't know why it happens. i mean its why there's a phenomena called “cuffing season”? maybe but its just sucks. its funny because a big part of me doesn't want it deep down - there's a desire to be alone and refrain from being touched. i just don't feel a need for it right now and the thought of it sometimes makes me feel gross (maybe the thought of it with certain people or without). but the biological part of myself feels the cold and the loneliness and i want it to shut up!!! i have bigger fish to fry.

I am possibly seeing wyoming when he comes home for christmas (dear god please don't let this confession online spite me and ruin it) which scares the shit out of me. i think the last time i saw him in person was two summers ago and i took him to smoke in a local nature preserve. i really want to see him but the panic is so strong that part of my brain wants me to forget about the whole thing. i feel the need to impress him and be perfect even though i know its not super necessary (especially because we've known each other for so long, if anything like that is a problem then its his problem alone and i don't care). whenever he comes home, we talk about seeing each other but it's always a game of chicken and it never actually happens because of the latest girl or whatever. and to that, ill be on my guard but i want to at least try.

today in my horror film class, an MFA named bruno came to our room to show a film he edited. it was a thriller/horror shot in black&white and in a small countryside town in brazil. it was funded by the brazilian government and touched on themes of climate/environmental change, religion/faith, and community. the director rodrigo talked to us over zoom and answered some questions.

this month involves a lot of travel for me, ive been going home a lot (not as much as i want, but duty calls) because my family dog is dying. i also went to florida this past weekend to visit my grandma, which was cut short by the hurricane. this coming weekend im going to nashville to visit my dad. i’m really heartbroken by the whole thing and don't really know to process it. i get choked up every time i try. ive had pets my whole life but we always got rid of them before they passed (sudden moves to apartments that didn't allow pets) so to have my little doggy pass is really jarring. its cheesy but she is my best friend and i don't know how to let go. its really affecting the rest of the family and a lot of friends too (she’s fiercely loved) and i feel a heavy weight from that. seeing those emotions from my mom and my step dad are always hard. since my mom and i have never experienced it, we don't understand when its supposed to happen - how bad its supposed to get before we decide to put her down. the vets said she had more than days to live but didn't give us anything more than that. i have a feeling she’ll die around christmas but my mom said she wouldn't last that long.

xoxo anonymous

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feminaferitas · 8 months ago

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Nat only hesitated a moment when Jackie stopped her at the door. The rifle was still upright in her hands, thinking about everything that had happened in the last few days. Fuck the accident, this was their reality now and they had to accept that -- but if the turn of winter meant suddenly they were going to devolve into orgies, assault, and leaving their own out to die... Natalie wasn't going to let that go without a reminder about what hunters did to rabid animals.

She turned for only a moment to look at Jackie, her eyes filled with mourning and anger. The girl sucked her lower lip for a moment if only to quell its trembling before she found her voice. "I don't exactly know anymore. I'm going to do what's right, I think?"

God, Nat hoped this was right. She was never exactly going to win Miss Congeniality with her teammates, even after forcibly sobering up and picking up the rifle. But fuck, she wasn't a bad person. Or at least, not as bad as everyone wanted to paint her to be.

"Hey, assholes."

She opened the door slightly before kicking it in with her boot -- even with few wild creatures left roaming the woods, they couldn't risk a winter with a broken door. The bitter chill followed her inside as Natalie leveled the gun at whoever was still downstairs. The team was in various states of sleeping and recline, comfortable and safe and apparently giving no shits about Jackie outside. Coach Ben was one of the few who appeared to be wide awake, sitting by the fire. A genuine dread filled his features as he locked eyes with the hunter.

"Woah, Jesus -- Natalie, fucking put that down, now."

"Last I checked, we were a fucking team. We didn't hunt each other for sport, and we certainly didn't leave each other in the cold to die."

The barrel end of the rifle scanned the cabin as if seeking the source of the conflict. Its dark nose sniffing like a trained dog as Natalie desperately tried not to let her body shake with the anger and fear she felt. Was Jackie even worth it? After everything they'd been through... Fuck, they were just kids, in the end. And Nat knew that back home, no one gave much of a good goddamn about her outside of what she could do for the soccer team. Maybe it was the same here. She hoped it wasn't. If she couldn't hold a gun, would they have left her to die too? Her mournful gaze then passed to Travis, who kept his own eyes low -- Jackie was still a sore subject between them, blue as a fresh bruise. Now with Javi gone, so was the light in his eyes.

Mari piped up next, crouched near her bedroll. "She didn't want to be here anymore, not with us crazy people." Her voice was almost proud to repeat the insult, wearing it like an armor to justify her actions.

Natalie scoffed, moving the gun towards her and watching the girl's confidence wither entirely. Suddenly, the blonde was doubting herself about whether the rounds inside were spent or not. She kept her finger off the trigger, refusing to make the revelation. It was enough that they believed she had power, enough that they believed her fuse was finally short enough to stoop down to their level (or that maybe still, she was climbing up to meet them).

"What's going on--"

Then Shauna appeared in the closet with the ladder, and it was something magnetic between her and Natalie. The hunter adjusted her grip on the gun, holding it so hard her knuckles were whitening, all in an attempt to stabilize herself. The pregnant girl had eyes like a deer, like the kinds of prey animals Natalie hadn't found for weeks and weeks, except for the beast with worms in its gut.

-- K-CHAKK --

"God damn it," Nat cursed, to herself and to the others as she pumped the shotgun. She could feel the sting of salty tears welling up, the emotions wracking her every nerve. "We are not animals. We are not going to start carving ourselves up from the inside. You all hear me?"

Without her knife, Shauna had an almost innocent quality about her. But Natalie could still see the berry-red stains hugging her lips, the darkness in her eyes. Both girls were on the verge of tears, but Natalie wouldn't budge, even as Shauna's hand moved to her stomach and her muscles twitched in hopes of retreating to the attic. She had something to do with Javi, she knew, and everything to do with Jackie. Whatever darkness had overcome them that Doomcoming night, Natalie could swear she saw it delighting in Shauna's innocent eyes, in her innocent babe.

"It's okay--"

But the darkness and the wilderness took a radiant human form in Lottie fucking Matthews, who suddenly stepped between the gun and the girl, staring into Natalie's reddened eyes with an unflinching, eerie composure.

"She won't do it, Shauna."

"Oh yeah, Lottie?" Saliva wove between her words and her lips as Natalie finally unclenched her jaw, almost annoyed by the taller girl's confidence and calm. "You think I won't? Cuz I thought there were a lot of lines we wouldn't cross out here, but we're all full of surprises, aren't we?"

Natalie's words should be reassuring. Maybe on some level they were. But all Jackie did was shrink further into herself, mouth pressed against her knees - not that it mattered, when speech was lost to her by now regardless.

I thought she of all people here might understand what it takes to keep the team alive out here. Well, if Shauna did, she clearly didn't give a shit. Not when it came to Jackie, at least, and that was what hurt the most. Jackie would've died for Shauna. Would've cut herself up and bled and let Shauna take and take and take whatever she needed, as long as Jackie had it left to give - but Shauna wouldn't do the same for her.

She was happier to leave Jackie out here to rot. Happier to hold a knife to Travis' throat, happier to fuck Jackie's boyfriend and give birth to his fucking baby than acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, something had gone terribly wrong along the way. Gone so wrong that Natalie, who barely any time at all ago had looked at Jackie with daggers for eyes and sworn keep talking and I'll find something to shoot, loved Jackie more than Shauna ever did.

Happier with anything that let her look away from that fact that whatever had died between them wasn't really the wilderness' fault, but her own. Even if what she left behind in the process was Jackie herself.

Jackie was so, so fucking tired.

But Natalie fucking Scatorccio, fire and steel and Artemis incarnate, wouldn't let her rest here. Wouldn't let her end here.

Of course she fucking wouldn't.

"Nat, what - hang on -" Despite herself, Jackie felt compelled to follow. She scrambled up and after Nat, as fast as she could with bones half-frozen. Only her blanket came with her, clutched tightly in hands she wasn't sure she could unfurl right now if she tried, the rest of her bedding left abandoned in a sad little pile behind them. Coming to a halt behind Natalie at the door, it wasn't the cold that shook Jackie's voice when she asked: "What the fuck are you gonna do?"

#ashesrebirthed jackie #ashesrebirthed #ashesrebirthed jackie 01 #threads: natalie #nirvanatalie #v: exactly what you wanted #v: though i walk through the valley #tw: guns #//thank u deleted scene for inspo #//long fucking post

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 3 years ago

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Stuff of Fairytales Part 1

Bucky Barnes x female plus size reader

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It wasn’t supposed to exist, a fairytale, something out of the most depraved erotic novels, but it’s hard to debate when it’s in your system and making you want to fuck the life out of your best friend.

Warnings: SMUT, dub-con due to sex pollen, self-deprecating thoughts, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, violence, fuck or die situation, cheating, Sam Wilson is a great friend, reader is low-key gay asf, unprotected sex, rough sex, jealous!bucky, mutual pining, reader and Bucky are idiots, swearing, porn with probably too much plot, pregnancy, slight breeding kink, pregnant reader, discussions of abortion, guilt

Minors DNI

WC: 2.5k

Part 1

Exposure

The best thing about having a crush on your best friend is absolutely nothing. There is no best part, it is absolutely horrible, especially if the best friend in question is dating someone else, someone who’s so gorgeous it hurts. Y/N fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist, trying to avoid looking at Bucky and his girlfriend who were currently sucking faces as they left his room. Her hair was messed up and neck was covered in hickies.

Y/N had to admit, the woman was gorgeous, long legs that went for miles, bright eyes with no signs of dark bags, flawless skin, perky breasts and a firm peach-like ass that Bucky slapped as she walked away, even she would like to hit that. Y/N looked down at herself, trying to suck in her rolls and make herself look smaller. She had always been self-conscious about being larger than other people but after years of dieting and exercise, nothing changed and she learned to accept and even love herself. But watching the man she fell so deeply in love with fawn over a woman that was her exact opposite brought those thoughts back.

“Why do you do this to yourself baby girl?” A warm hand wrapped around her jaw and pointed it up towards its owner. Sam looked down on her with sadness in his gorgeous brown eyes. He wiped away a couple of her tears before dipping down and bringing her into his arms. “Stop torturing yourself ok. You’re a gorgeous woman and anyone would be lucky to have you.” She opened her mouth to retort but a glare from Sam shut her up. Y/N giggled and snuggled into his broad chest, letting the scent of his cologne overwhelm her.

“Is there a cuddle party happening here that I wasn’t invited to?” Bucky’s deep voice broke them out of their trance.

“Yeah you definitely weren’t invited, old man! It was my turn to cuddle this luscious piece of woman.” Sam reached down and grabbed her ass causing her to yelp and smack his chest.

“Sam!” She giggled and grabbed his ass too.

“Ooh kinky!” He squeezed her one more time, kissing her head before releasing her to go get some breakfast made. Bucky was frowning deeply as Y/N turned back to him.

“You alright Buck?” He nodded slowly, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the living room, out of Sam’s earshot.

“Be honest with me, are you and Sam seeing each other?”

“What the hell Bucky! No I’m not, but if I was, I wouldn’t have to tell you.” She yanked out of his grasp, suddenly very angry.

“Doll I’m sorry I just…”

“What James?” He winced at the use of his first name.

“I want to make sure that you don’t get hurt, he’s a bit of a player.”

“I appreciate the concern Buck but Sam and I aren’t together and I doubt we ever will be. He’s my emotional support himbo.”

Sam’s voice came from the kitchen, ‘Hell yeah I am!’.

“An emotional support what?” Buck’s nose scrunched in confusion and it made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“Emotional support himbo, you know like a support dog but instead of an animal it’s a stupidly hot guy.”

“And this stupidly hot guy is making you breakfast little dove.”

“My hero!” Y/N skipped back to the kitchen missing the look of longing Bucky shot her.

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

“This mission is going to be completely covert so we can only have two people go in.” Steve was going over new mission details at the front of the conference room but Bucky wasn’t paying attention, his eyes were on Sam and Y/N who sat practically on Sam’s lap. She was nervously toying with his fingers, something she always used to do with Bucky. His free arm was wrapped around her shoulders and he would occasionally whisper something in her ear which made her giggle, Bucky’s fist closed so tightly against the chair leg that it bent with the force.

Natasha kicked Bucky in the shin and pointed to Steve.

“Huh?” The captain sighed.

“Bucky you and Y/L/N are going to be the ones infiltrating the base. With your knowledge of Hydra and her hacking abilities, you should be able to be in and out very quickly. You’ll have to fly in the jet alone but your coms will be linked to us in case you need backup but we’ve been watching the base for a while and it seems abandoned so I doubt you’ll need it. You head out in twenty.”

Y/N stood up first, eager to get out of the room, Sam followed closely behind.

“Buck stay back a second, I need to talk to you.” The rest of the Avengers filed out of the room, Nat clapped Bucky on his shoulder.

Steve sat in the chair next to him.

“What’s going on with you man? I heard about this morning, you never seemed bothered by Y/N and Sam’s relationship before.”

Bucky sat up straight.

“They’re in a relationship! She said they weren’t.”

“Jesus Christ, they’re not dating Buck, they’ve always been touchy with each other, why is it becoming a problem now?”

“It’s not a problem, I just don’t like how Sam is using her, I mean she’s so nice that she obviously doesn’t see that he’s just going to break her heart.” He huffed and leaned back.

“You know what, I’m not even going to entertain this, Y/N is an adult, she can see whoever she wants to, Sam included,” Bucky glared at him, “You don’t have the right to dictate who she can and can’t see, in case you forgot, you are currently dating someone. You had the chance to tell her how you feel and you didn’t, now you have to live with it. Now suit up, you need to be on your game today.” Bucky crumpled but left the room anyway, he knew she was going to have her heart broken.

“Now little one you remember what I taught you.” Natasha helped Y/N strap into her harness and zip up her suit.

“Never accept a beverage from a man you can’t out-drink.” The assassin glared playfully at her friend. “Trust my gut, if something feels too easy, that’s because it is and get home alive.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Alright move this party along, I was promised Chinese food and brownies when you get back so the sooner you go, the sooner you come home.” Sam gave her a quick peck on her cheek before shoving her onto the jet.

“You know I’m more than my baking birdman!” She shouted at him.

“Yeah! You’ve got a fat ass too!” Him and Natasha burst into giggles as Y/N threw a wrench at them. Bucky was sulking in the pilot’s chair.

“Come on, we need to get going.” Y/N looks at him thoughtfully before settling in and getting the jet started, an awkward silence falling over the pair.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you this morning,” Bucky was broken out of his trance by her soft voice, “I think I was just really tired and hungry, you didn’t deserve to be yelled at.”

“No no doll I’m sorry, it wasn’t right for me to be so protective of you, if you want to go out with Sam you should. I just don’t want to lose my best friend ya know. You’re one of the most important people in my life, doll, I hate seeing you hurt.”

“Jamie, you’d never lose me. It’s you and me against the world, remember. Just like I promised when you first moved in.” She took her hand in his and when Bucky smiled at her, she turned back to the controls without letting him go.

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

The compound was entirely empty as the pair moved silently through each corridor.

“Buck, something isn’t right.” Y/N’s gut churned with anxiety.

“We’ll be fine doll, we just need to get this done quickly.” His shoulders were tense, the metal plates on his arm continuously whirring as he gripped the gun in his hands. The final door they checked was locked, Bucky smirked before kicking it in, exposing rows upon rows of computers.

“Here ya go, get to work doll.” Heat rose to her cheeks as he led her into the room with one hand on her back.

“I’ll need a minute to get this information, hopefully it shouldn’t take too long.” He nodded and continued on into the room.

“Got it!” Bucky turned around from where he was looking through some old files he found just in time to see Y/N do her little happy dance. He couldn’t help but stare as her flesh jiggled beneath her suit. She always looked so fucking soft, all he wanted to do was grab her thick hips while he-

“Bucky!” The door to the room slammed shut. He sprinted forward, pushing her behind him as he tried to pry them open. His metal fist didn’t so much as make a dent as he desperately tried to break down the door. He was vaguely aware of the sound of gas entering the room from a vent behind them but the pounding in his ears overpowered all other thoughts.

A moan stopped him in his tracks, he slowly turned and the breath was knocked from his lungs. Y/N was leaned against a desk, sweat dripped down her forehead, full chest heaving, she had pulled the zipper to her suit down almost to her navel, exposing her sports bra and the slight curve of her breasts from where they didn’t fit in.

“Jamie, what’s happening to me? I feel so hot.” Her voice was raspy, already sounding fucked out. Her hands had begun to drift from her head down to her sex.

“Fuck!” Bucky started at the door again, furiously trying to get it open. It wasn’t supposed to exist, only a rumour in Hydra to breed more super soldiers, to get women’s bodies ready to take their seed. He had to get her out, he couldn’t use her like that, not her.

Y/N’s whole body was on fire, slick dripped down her legs as she touched her heated skin. It felt like she was dying, painful cramps ripping through her abdomen.

“M so empty, please need it so bad,” The fever made her delirious, not even aware that she was speaking out loud, “Please Jamie, help me, hurts so bad.” She sank to the ground, trying to get some relief. Her fingers were deep inside her, a wet squelching noise filled the room. She could smell Bucky’s cologne from here, her senses heightened. Fuck he smelt so good, he always did. Her eyes shut as her orgasm began to build, Jamie Jamie Jamie, she chanted but right as she was about to fall over the edge, the pleasure stopped and another cramp, more painful than the ones before made her scream in agony.

Bucky was panting now, the pollen slowly infecting his system, his cock straining against his tact pants, leaking pre-cum. He had to resist his own desires.

“I know love, let me help you.” Bucky knew he had to get her off, if he did nothing, her body would continue to heat up until her brain overheated and she would die. He knelt in front of Y/N and pulled her into a hug, holding her close as his metal fingers replaced her own. Guilt gnawed at his stomach, he got her in this mess, he should’ve listened to her. His own mind was starting to go foggy with arousal, the scent of Y/N overwhelmed him, making him go feral.

She gripped his wrist tightly, grinding her pelvis down into his hand.

“Oh Jamie!”

“Go ahead doll, come for me.” He whispered into her hair, fingers working furiously into her, he wished he used his flesh hand so he could feel her entirely.

“Bucky!” She screamed and he withdrew his hand, believing that she was better but he felt tears soaking his shirt.

“Doll, why are you crying?” He lifted her chin.

“It didn’t work.” Her pupils were blown too wide and her pulse was sporadic, getting wilder by the second. Sobs wracked her body.

“Hurts so bad, please help.” The pollen was now fully in Bucky’s system and he was finding it hard to find a reason why he shouldn’t completely destroy his best friend’s cunt.

Bucky ripped open the rest of her suit.

“Fuck doll, you’re gorgeous, need to be in you now.”

“Please Jamie, feel so empty, make it better.” He flipped her over and pulled her to her knees. He quickly pulled open his pants and sunk into her.

His fingers dug into her hips, savouring the feel of her heat finally wrapped around him.

Being buried in her was everything he had dreamed of, she was so warm and wet, and gripping him so tightly he could barely pull out.

Y/N screamed in pleasure, Bucky felt so big inside her. She could feel him in her stomach. Her tits were swinging with every thrust and the Winter Soldier couldn’t resist bending down and taking them into his hands and squeezing roughly. She couldn’t even form words anymore as her orgasm returned with full force. Her arms collapsed, but he kept driving into her, trying to get her to cum.

“Baby, need you to cum for me, need it bad.” One arm reached around, finding her clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

“Jamie! M gonna cum!” She threw her ass back towards him, making Bucky fall over her, moaning softly into her ear. Suddenly she shattered, throwing her head back against Bucky, her vision blacked out and she squirted.

“Fuck!” He gripped her hips tighter and pounded her into the ground, furiously chasing his own orgasm.

“Please cum in me Jamie, need to feel it, wanna feel you cum.” Bucky roared as he came, burying himself as deep as possible and filling her up with warm cum. He slowly fell out of her, sitting back on his haunches watching as his seed seeped out of her. Y/N’s hips sunk to the floor, her eyes starting to shut with exhaustion.

The lock clicked open and the door swung out. Bucky picked her up and covered her with the torn suit as best he could. The guilt had set in, he just used his best friend for his own desires was eating him up. Y/N was quiet too, her own guilt killing her, she made Bucky take care of her, she made him cheat on his girlfriend. The jet home was awkward, they avoided eye contact and refused to speak to anyone when they arrived home. No one heard from either of them for days but the worst was yet to come.

Part 2

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x female reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader #sex pollen #dub-con #Stuff of Fairytales #smut #angst #cheating #pregnancy #pregnant reader #plus size reader #female reader #avengers smut

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rphelperblog · 2 years ago

Text

Mean Girls Quote Rp Meme

inspired by the wonderful and talented @worldburnt

“On wednesday, we wear pink.”

"Whatever, I'm getting cheese fries."

"Get in loser, we're going shopping!"

"You wanna do something fun? Wanna go to Taco Bell?"

“The limit does not exist.”

“You can’t sit with us.”

"You could try Sears."

“She doesn’t even go here.”

“I'm not like a regular mom, I'm a cool mom!"

"I'm sorry that people are so jealous of me. But I can't help it that I'm popular."

"One time, she punched me in the face. It was awesome."

"It’s like I have ESPN or something!"

"I can't go out tonight. I'm sick."

"Your face smells like peppermint!"

"You smell like a baby prostitute."

“There’s a 30% chance that it’s already raining…

"Damn Africa, what happened?"

“Can I get you guys anything? Some snacks? A condom? Let me know! Oh, God love ya.”

"Grool. I meant to say great but then I started to say cool."

"It's not my fault you're, like, in love with me or something!"

"Is butter a carb?"

“Oh, I love seeing teachers outside of school. It’s like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs.”

I don’t hate you cuz yo’ fat… yo’ fat cuz I hate you!”

“Did you have an awesome time? Did you drink awesome shooters, listen to awesome music, and then just sit around and soak up each other’s awesomeness?”

"Would you like us to assign someone to butter your muffin?"

"So, you've actually never been to a real school before? Shut up! Shut up!"

“You can only wear your hair in a ponytail once a week. So I guess you chose today.”

"Ex-boyfriends are off-limits to friends. That's just, like, the rules of feminism."

"I want my pink shirt back!"

"There are two kinds of evil people in this world. Those who do evil stuff and those who see evil stuff being done and don't try to stop it."

"Oh my God, Danny DeVito, I love your work!"

"But you're, like, really pretty… So you agree? You think you're really pretty?"

I love her; she’s like a martian!”

“I will keep you here all night.”

"That's why her hair is so big. It's full of secrets."

“Make sure you check out her mom’s boob job. They’re hard as rocks!”

“I can’t go to Taco Bell. I’m on an all-carb diet. “

“I don’t know why. It’s probably because I have a big, fat LESBIAN crush on you. Suck on that! Aye aye aye!”

"Made out with a hot dog? Oh my god that was one time!"

"In the real world, Halloween is when kids dress up and beg for candy. But in girl world, Halloween is the one time of year a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girl can say anything about it."

"Don't have sex. Because you will get pregnant, and die. Don't have sex in the missionary position, don't have sex standing up, just...don't do it. Promise?"

“Somebody wrote in that book that I’m lying about being a virgin, ’cause I use super-jumbo tampons, but I can’t help it if I’ve got a heavy flow and a wide-set vagina!”

"Did you see a nipple? It only counts if you saw a nipple."

"I don't know, I mean, she's so weird, she just, you know, came up to me and started talking to me about crack."

"That is the ugliest effing skirt I've ever seen."

"I know I may seem like I was being a bitch, but that's only because I was acting like a bitch."

"Boo, you whore."

“I have really bad breath in the morning.”

"Damn. I'd rather see you out there shakin' that thang."

"I wish we could all get along like we used to in middle school. I wish I could bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat and be happy."

“I used to think there was just fat and skinny. But apparently there’s lots of things that can be wrong on your body.”

“I hear she does car commercials…in Japan.”

“I know she’s kind of socially retarded and weird, but she’s my friend… so, just promise me you won’t make fun of her!”

“At your age, you’re going to have a lot of urges. You’re going to want to take off your clothes and touch each other. But if you do touch each other, you will get chlamydia… and die.”

“So that’s against the rules, and you can’t sit with us.”

“I’m sorry I called you a gap-toothed bitch. It’s not your fault you’re so gap-toothed.”

Because that vest was disgusting!”

Then it’s settled, so you can go shave your back now.”

“And on the third day, God created the Remington bolt-action rifle, so that Man could fight the dinosaurs. And the homosexuals.”

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istumpysk · 2 years ago

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: Brienne VIII (Chapter 42)

The rain had stopped falling, but all the world was wet. Her cloak felt as heavy as her mail. The ropes that bound her wrists were soaked through, but that only made them tighter. No matter how Brienne turned her hands, she could not slip free. She did not understand who had bound her, or why. She tried to ask the shadows, but they did not answer. Perhaps they did not hear her. Perhaps they were not real. Under her layers of wet wool and rusting mail, her skin was flushed and feverish. She wondered whether all of this was just a fever dream.

She had a horse beneath her, though she could not remember mounting. She lay facedown across his hindquarters, like a sack of oats. Her wrists and ankles had been lashed together.

It's difficult to summarize, so just know Brienne spends the first half of this chapter in total delirium from fever.

+.+.+

"We have no maester," said a girl's voice. "Only me."

I am looking for a girl, Brienne remembered. A highborn maid of three-and-ten, with blue eyes and auburn hair. "My lady?" she said. "Lady Sansa?"

Brienne may not know what planet she's on, but she remains determined.

+.+.+

A man laughed. "She thinks you're Sansa Stark."

"She can't go much farther. She'll die."

"One less lion. I won't weep."

Well that's not good!

+.+.+

Lord Renly was ahead of her, her sweet smiling king. He was leading her horse through the trees. Brienne called out to tell him how much she loved him, but when he turned to scowl at her, she saw that he was not Renly after all. Renly never scowled. He always had a smile for me, she thought . . . except . . .

"Cold," her king said, puzzled, and a shadow moved without a man to cast it, and her sweet lord's blood came washing through the green steel of his gorget to drench her hands. He had been a warm man, but his blood was cold as ice.

Dying monarchs, shadows, cold, ice - what's not to love about this?

+.+.+

Brienne sucked it down until she sputtered. "No more."

"More. You have a broken arm, and some of your ribs is cracked. Two, maybe three."

Brienne's in no state to fight, and Jaime's still missing a hand last time I checked, so combat is not an option when the two come face-to-face with Lady S.

+.+.+

She drank. "I am looking for a girl," she whispered, between swallows. She almost said my sister. "A highborn maid of three-and-ten. She has blue eyes and auburn hair."

She'll never give up.

+.+.+

"M'lady." The wine was making her head spin. It was hard to think. "Stoneheart. Is that who you mean?" Lord Randyll had spoken of her, back at Maidenpool. "Lady Stoneheart."

"Some call her that. Some call her other things. The Silent Sister. Mother Merciless. The Hangwoman."

Mother Merciless and her daughter Mercy. How cute.

+.+.+

"Podrick. My squire. Where is Podrick? And the others . . . Ser Hyle, Septon Meribald. Dog. What did you do with Dog?"

Gendry and the girl exchanged a look. Brienne fought to rise, and managed to get one knee under her before the world began to spin. "It was you killed the dog, m'lady," she heard Gendry say, just before the darkness swallowed her again.

It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out Gendry was referring to Rorge and not Dog.

+.+.+

"Gendry," she wheezed. "I have to talk with Gendry."

"He turned back at the river, m'lady. He's gone back to his forge, to Willow and the little ones, to keep them safe."

If Gendry had crossed that river (line?), and participated in this, I'd say he's a dead man walking.

I think he'll be okay. The other members of the brotherhood? Not so much.

+.+.+

No one can keep them safe. She began to cough again. "Ah, let her choke. Save us a rope." One of the shadow men shoved the girl aside. He was clad in rusted rings and a studded belt. At his hip hung longsword and dirk. A yellow greatcloak was plastered to his shoulders, sodden and filthy. From his shoulders rose a steel dog's head, its teeth bared in a snarl.

"No," Brienne moaned. "No, you're dead, I killed you."

The Hound laughed. "You got that backwards. It'll be me killing you. I'd do it now, but m'lady wants to see you hanged."

Look, another asshole has the helm! How hard are you laughing?

+.+.+

Hanged. The word sent a jolt of fear through her. She looked at the girl, Jeyne. She is too young to be so hard. "Bread and salt," Brienne gasped. "The inn . . . Septon Meribald fed the children . . . we broke bread with your sister . . ."

"Guest right don't mean so much as it used to," said the girl. "Not since m'lady come back from the wedding. Some o' them swinging down by the river figured they was guests too."

"We figured different," said the Hound. "They wanted beds. We gave 'em trees."

Do you think there's an Arya fan on earth who gets it?

+.+.+

When it was time to mount again, they yanked a leather hood down over her face. There were no eyeholes. The leather muffled the sounds around her. The taste of onions lingered on her tongue, sharp as the knowledge of her failure. They mean to hang me. She thought of Jaime, of Sansa, of her father back on Tarth, and was glad for the hood. It helped hide the tears welling in her eyes.

+.+.+

"He will bring a rose for you," her father promised her, but a rose was no good, a rose could not keep her safe. It was a sword she wanted. Oathkeeper. I have to find the girl. I have to find his honor.

There is no way Brienne is ever abandoning her goal of finding Sansa.

I find people who predict her TWOW arc tend to ignore this.

+.+.+

"Jaime," she heard herself scream, "Jaime."

"Jaime called it Oathkeeper. Please." But the voices did not listen, and Clarence Crabb thundered down on her and swept off her head.

Jaime! she wanted to cry. Jaime, come back for me! But her tongue lay on the floor by the rose, drowned in blood.

+.+.+

No, she thought, that was me. "What place is this? Is this a dungeon?"

"A cave. Like rats, we must run back to our holes when the dogs come sniffing after us, and there are more dogs every day."

Good thing Sandor Clegane got to the Vale when he did.

+.+.+

"Jeyne. The tall girl?"

"The very one. Though she is not so tall as you, my lady. Long Jeyne, the men call her. It was she who set your arm and splinted it, as well as any maester. She did what she could for your face as well, washing out the wounds with boiled ale to stop the mortification. Even so . . . a human bite is a filthy thing. That is where the fever came from, I am certain." The grey man touched her bandaged face. "We had to cut away some of the flesh. Your face will not be pretty, I fear."

It has never been pretty. "Scars, you mean?"

"My lady, that creature chewed off half your cheek."

If you needed any more evidence that Brienne is Sandor Clegane's foil, look no further than the side of her face.

+.+.+

"Why set my bones and wash my wounds if you only mean to hang me?"

"Why indeed?"

I'm assuming because the author intends for you to get out of this, and keep on fighting. Just a guess.

+.+.+

Whatever else you may have done. "What is it that you think I've done?" she said. "Who are you?"

"We were king's men when we began," the man told her, "but king's men must have a king, and we have none. We were brothers too, but now our brotherhood is broken. I do not know who we are, if truth be told, nor where we might be going. I only know the road is dark. The fires have not shown me what lies at its end."

That's no coincidence.

"He turns and runs, or crawls off afterward over the corpses of the slain, or steals away in the black of night, and he finds someplace to hide. All thought of home is gone by then, and kings and lords and gods mean less to him than a haunch of spoiled meat that will let him live another day, or a skin of bad wine that might drown his fear for a few hours. The broken man lives from day to day, from meal to meal, more beast than man. Lady Brienne is not wrong. In times like these, the traveler must beware of broken men, and fear them . . . but he should pity them as well." - Brienne V, AFFC

+.+.+

"Lightning comes and goes and then is seen no more. So too with men. Lord Beric's fire has gone out of this world, I fear. A grimmer shadow leads us in his place."

"The Hound?"

The priest pursed his lips. "The Hound is dead and buried."

Feels like the author enjoys repeating that.

+.+.+

"Judgment?" She frowned. "Podrick Payne is just a boy."

"He says he is a squire."

"You know how boys will boast."

"The Imp's squire. He has fought in battles, by his own admission. He has even killed, to hear him tell it."

"A boy," she said again. "Have pity."

"My lady," Thoros said, "I do not doubt that kindness and mercy and forgiveness can still be found somewhere in these Seven Kingdoms, but do not look for them here. This is a cave, not a temple. When men must live like rats in the dark beneath the earth, they soon run out of pity, as they do of milk and honey."

Yay, bible references.

When men must live like rats in the dark beneath the earth, they soon run out of pity

Get out of that cave, Bran.

By the way, Podrick is older than the boys Daenerys had butchered in Astapor.

+.+.+

"And justice? Can that be found in caves?"

"Justice." Thoros smiled wanly. "I remember justice. It had a pleasant taste. Justice was what we were about when Beric led us, or so we told ourselves. We were king's men, knights, and heroes . . . but some knights are dark and full of terror, my lady. War makes monsters of us all."

Maybe Thoros will get Jaime and Brienne out of this mess? Don't ask me how.

We've come to the end, and I still have no theories. Sorry.

+.+.+

Brienne heard their footsteps and saw torchlight flickering in the passage. "You told me she had gone to Fairmarket."

"And so she had. She returned whilst we were sleeping. She never sleeps herself."

Lady S, what were you doing at Fairmarket?

Someone had to. "Has some ill befallen Ser Ryman?"

"Hanged with all his party," said Walder Rivers. "The outlaws caught them two leagues south of Fairmarket." - Jaime VII, AFFC

+.+.+

I will not be afraid, she told herself, but it was too late for that. I will not let them see my fear, she promised herself instead.

<- Alayne II, AFFC

Her father [Littlefinger] said there was no shame in being afraid, only in showing your fear. "All men live with fear," he said.

It's still terrible advice, but it's the right way to approach this current situation.

+.+.+

The biggest of the four wore a stained and tattered yellow cloak. "Enjoy the food?" he asked. "I hope so. It's the last food you're ever like to eat." He was brown-haired, bearded, brawny, with a broken nose that had healed badly. I know this man, Brienne thought. "You are the Hound."

He grinned. His teeth were awful; crooked, and streaked brown with rot. "I suppose I am. Seeing as how m'lady went and killed the last one." He turned his head and spat.

She remembered lightning flashing, the mud beneath her feet. "It was Rorge I killed. He took the helm from Clegane's grave, and you stole it off his corpse."

"I didn't hear him objecting."

Thoros sucked in his breath in dismay. "Is this true? A dead man's helm? Have we fallen that low?"

The big man scowled at him. "It's good steel."

"There is nothing good about that helm, nor the men who wore it," said the red priest. "Sandor Clegane was a man in torment, and Rorge a beast in human skin."

Nothing good about that helm, nor the men who wore it.

Taking from the dead, major faux pas in ASoIaF. Rip Lem.

+.+.+

A trestle table had been set up across the cave, in a cleft in the rock. Behind it sat a woman all in grey, cloaked and hooded. In her hands was a crown, a bronze circlet ringed by iron swords. She was studying it, her fingers stroking the blades as if to test their sharpness. Her eyes glimmered under her hood.

Grey was the color of the silent sisters, the handmaidens of the Stranger. Brienne felt a shiver climb her spine. Stoneheart.

It's also the colour of a great house, Brienne.

Where'd you get that crown, Lady S?

"To hell or home, as you prefer. See that you are not in camp when the sun comes up. You may take your queen of whores, but not that crown of hers." Jaime turned from Ser Ryman to his son. - Jaime VI, AFFC

+.+.+

"Aye," added the one-eyed man. "The Kingslayer's whore."

She flinched. "Why would you call me that?"

"If I had a silver stag for every time you said his name, I'd be as rich as your friends the Lannisters."

Everything sucks.

+.+.+

Another of the outlaws stepped forward, a younger man in a greasy sheepskin jerkin. In his hand was Oathkeeper. "This says it is." His voice was frosted with the accents of the north. He slid the sword from its scabbard and placed it in front of Lady Stoneheart. In the light from the firepit the red and black ripples in the blade almost seem to move, but the woman in grey had eyes only for the pommel: a golden lion's head, with ruby eyes that shone like two red stars.

Look on the bright side, at least she doesn't recognize the blade?

+.+.+

"There is this as well." Thoros of Myr drew a parchment from his sleeve, and put it down next to the sword. "It bears the boy king's seal and says the bearer is about his business."

Lady Stoneheart set the sword aside to read the letter.

Boy, this couldn't get much worse, could it?

+.+.+

"The sword was given me for a good purpose," said Brienne. "Ser Jaime swore an oath to Catelyn Stark . . ."

". . . before his friends cut her throat for her, that must have been,"

"Jaime Lannister sends his regards." He thrust his longsword through her son's heart, and twisted. - Catelyn VII, ASOS

I'm annoyed this has turned into a problem for Brienne instead of Jaime.

+.+.+

It is no good, Brienne realized. No words of mine will sway them. She plunged ahead despite that. "He promised Lady Catelyn her daughters, but by the time we reached King's Landing they were gone. Jaime sent me out to seek the Lady Sansa . . ."

This is starting to irritate the shit out of me.

I don't know who George thinks he's fooling, but Jaime Lannister was not sending Sansa away from King's Landing if he returned before the wedding. Please get real.

+.+.+

"Deny it all you want. That sword says you're a liar. Are we supposed to believe the Lannisters are handing out gold and ruby swords to foes? That the Kingslayer meant for you to hide the girl from his own twin? I suppose the paper with the boy king's seal was just in case you needed to wipe your arse? And then there's the company you keep . . ." The big man turned and beckoned, the ranks of outlaws parted, and two more captives were brought forth. "The boy was the Imp's own squire, m'lady," he said to Lady Stoneheart. "T'other is one of Randyll Bloody Tarly's bloody household knights."

Never mind, it can always get worse.

+.+.+

Hyle Hunt had been beaten so badly that his face was swollen almost beyond recognition. He stumbled as they shoved him, and almost fell. Podrick caught him by the arm. "Ser," the boy said miserably, when he saw Brienne. "My lady, I mean. Sorry."

Is Hyle going to be way uglier now?

That's another point in his favour!

+.+.+

Ser Hyle gave Brienne a faint smile. "My lady," he said, "you should have wed me when I made my offer. Now I fear you're doomed to die a maid, and me a poor man."

You'll get a second chance! A SECOND CHANCE.

+.+.+

Instead she spoke . . . Her voice was halting, broken, tortured. The sound seemed to come from her throat, part croak, part wheeze, part death rattle. The language of the damned, thought Brienne. "I don't understand. What did she say?"

"She asked the name of this blade of yours," said the young northman in the sheepskin jerkin.

"Oathkeeper," Brienne answered.

The woman in grey hissed through her fingers. Her eyes were two red pits burning in the shadows. She spoke again.

Like a cat? Hee.

+.+.+

"No, she says. Call it Oathbreaker, she says. It was made for treachery and murder. She names it False Friend. Like you."

"To whom have I been false?"

[...]

Lady Stoneheart lowered her hood and unwound the grey wool scarf from her face. Her hair was dry and brittle, white as bone. Her brow was mottled green and grey, spotted with the brown blooms of decay. The flesh of her face clung in ragged strips from her eyes down to her jaw. Some of the rips were crusted with dried blood, but others gaped open to reveal the skull beneath.

"Let us see." The priest lowered his cowl. Beneath he had no face; only a yellowed skull with a few scraps of skin still clinging to the cheeks, and a white worm wriggling from one empty eye socket. "Kiss me, child," he croaked, in a voice as dry and husky as a death rattle.

Does he think to scare me? - Arya I, AFFC

+.+.+

Her face, Brienne thought. Her face was so strong and handsome, her skin so smooth and soft. "Lady Catelyn?" Tears filled her eyes. "They said . . . they said that you were dead."

My heart is breaking, and it's only Brienne. I might cry when it's Arya.

+.+.+

"She is," said Thoros of Myr. "The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And . . . she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose."

Of course he did, Beric swore a vow.

I do not have the power to give you back your father, no more than Thoros does, but I can at least see that you are returned safely to your mother's arms."

"Do you swear?" she asked him. Yoren had promised to take her home too, only he'd gotten killed instead.

"On my honor as a knight," the lightning lord said solemnly. - Arya VII, ASOS

+.+.+

The thing that had been Catelyn Stark took hold of her throat again, fingers pinching at the ghastly long slash in her neck, and choked out more sounds.

Heh, spot on.

+.+.+

Jaime. The name was a knife, twisting in her belly. "Lady Catelyn, I . . . you do not understand, Jaime . . . he saved me from being raped when the Bloody Mummers took us, and later he came back for me, he leapt into the bear pit empty-handed . . . I swear to you, he is not the man he was. He sent me after Sansa to keep her safe, he could not have had a part in the Red Wedding."

Lady Catelyn's fingers dug deep into her throat, and the words came rattling out, choked and broken, a stream as cold as ice. The northman said, "She says that you must choose. Take the sword and slay the Kingslayer, or be hanged for a betrayer. The sword or the noose, she says. Choose, she says. Choose."

[...]

She took a ragged breath and said, "I will not make that choice."

Brienne would rather be killed than dishonour herself.

She's not going to let Jaime die, and she's not going to let Podrick and Hyle die. I got nothing, you figure it out.

+.+.+

Beneath a crooked willow, the outlaws slipped a noose about her neck, jerked it tight, and tossed the other end of the rope over a limb. Hyle Hunt and Podrick Payne were given elms. Ser Hyle was shouting that he would kill Jaime Lannister, but the Hound cuffed him across the face and shut him up. He had donned the helm again. "If you got crimes to confess to your gods, this would be the time to say them."

+.+.+

"Do you mean to hang her, Lem?" asked the one-eyed man. "Or do you figure to talk the bitch to death?"

The Hound snatched the end of the rope from the man holding it. "Let's see if she can dance," he said, and gave a yank.

Love that she keeps calling him the Hound.

+.+.+

Brienne felt the hemp constricting, digging into her skin, jerking her chin upward. Ser Hyle was cursing them eloquently, but not the boy. Podrick never lifted his eyes, not even when his feet were jerked up off the ground. If this is another dream, it is time for me to awaken. If this is real, it is time for me to die. All she could see was Podrick, the noose around his thin neck, his legs twitching. Her mouth opened. Pod was kicking, choking, dying. Brienne sucked the air in desperately, even as the rope was strangling her. Nothing had ever hurt so much.

She screamed a word.

Sword!

This fandom is stupid, this is the best arc in the book. There isn't a single boring moment.

Final thoughts:

What happened to the old piebald rounsey? :(

I always forget Lady Stoneheart knows Sansa has fled from King's Landing.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #affc #brienne viii

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

0X1=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You were one and he made you both zero. He has it all, a stable life, all that money, a wife lined up, and your body as his drug, him coming back for hit after hit. They called you a bad influence. You called yourself Jeon Jungkook's ex.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; angst; cheating; stereotyping of tattoos; reader is verbally abused by JK's wealthy parents; JK and reader are foolish, wounded animals and act accordingly; rough hate sex (fem reader, biting / marking / scratching, f and m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - exes, tattooed, rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader, ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK's best friend

–

now playing – 0X1=LOVESONG (i know i love you) by txt ft. pH-1, Woodie Gochild, Seori

"I hate you."

"Join the club. Current members, me."

He narrowed his eyes and tossed his keys onto the table next to the door, kicking off his sneakers.

"We gonna fuck or what?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You tell me you hate me and then you want to fuck?"

"Stranger things have happened. I could tell you I love you."

You made a gagging noise. "Disgusting."

He pretended to be shocked. "How could you say such a thing?"

You slammed the door shut and walked past him, not saying anything. You heard him stride behind you, following to your bedroom.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Right, and I'm a dog. We done lying now?"

"You are a dog," you replied, falling onto the bed.

His head popped into view, long black hair hanging down, half of it pinned back to reveal his undercut and two dangling black earrings on his right ear.

"You fuck dogs? Nasty. I'm not into bestiality, sorry."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Shut the fuck up, Jungkook."

Jeon Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, adjusting his black turtleneck by hooking a finger on the collar and sliding it from side to side, the small tattoos on his knuckles and fingers dancing with the action.

"Why are you stressed like a nun?"

He clicked his tongue. "Her idea of getting freaky was trying to chew my neck off. Went full piranha on me."

You snorted. "Maybe you deserve it. Would have saved me the trouble."

"Ha, ha, very funny."

He glared at you and you glared back from the bed.

"So, how was fucking my best friend?" he snapped.

You scoffed. "I didn't fuck Taehyung. I told you already."

"That's not what he said."

"So what? I've never seen his dick or had it near my pussy. If he wants to make up shit, that's his prerogative."

Jungkook didn't look like he believed you, but you weren't the one cheating on your girlfriend with your ex, so it wasn't something you cared about. He narrowed his eyes.

"Swear."

"On what?" you shot back. "Your right nut?"

"Your life."

You snorted. "Well apparently to you, that ain't worth shit."

He was reaching for the bottom of his turtleneck and pulling it up and over his head. You felt a tinge of annoyance, seeing the dark, spotted bites on his side and shoulder. He yanked the article of clothing over his head and you spied the one on his neck, a blotted, messy patch of red-purple. It was ugly on his pretty tan skin.

You could do better.

"Your girlfriend know the meaning of sexy?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"That's not what she or your parents think."

"She and my parents can suck each other's dicks."

"Didn't know you liked dick. Guess that's why we didn't work out."

He tossed his turtleneck aside and growled, crawling onto the bed. Large, powerful, shoulders flexing, copious black tattoos covering his right arm and shoulder, a full sleeve. On the inside of his right bicep was a skull with a knife in its head.

You picked that one, a long time ago.

You looked into his eyes.

He had noticed you glancing at it.

She's ruining your life! Look at you! Tattoos all over your arm and hand! How could you get these ugly things?

Jungkook didn't say anything. He just grabbed your arm and started yanking your clothes off, just like how you grabbed his pants and started pulling them off his body, throwing them violently aside.

Don't you dare speak to our son ever again, you good-for-nothing whore. You think we wouldn't notice your poisonous influence sullying him? It took us months to find a nice, sensible girl willing to put up with your mistakes!

Hands and skin and teeth and hate, tumbling onto the covers, the taste of his flesh on your tongue and his cologne attacking your nose, his large hands gripping your soft thighs, pushing them apart, looking down into those chocolate eyes, the voices melding together, arguments, tirades, chaos, a fucking mess of you biting your tongue while Jungkook stood there and did nothing to defend you.

I hate you so fucking much, Jungkook!

And calling my parents dogs licking the shit off countryside roads is any better? The fuck is wrong with you?!

They were eating me alive in there and you said nothing! Absolutely nothing! I'd go to hell and back for you and you couldn't even say a single fucking word!

You were in hell. You came back.

And now you were in hell again.

"Damn, she must be fucking horrible at making you feel good if you keep coming to me."

Jungkook rolled his eyes and you clamped your thighs around his head, nearly a triangle choke as you dragged him along the sheets, him half-crawling to follow you, shuddering at the close proximity of your pussy to his face. When he spoke, his warm breath saturated your wetness.

"She doesn't even taste half as good as you and never fucking listens when I tell her what I like," he grumbled.

"Yeah? You tell her you like it when you shove your face into pussy?"

He scowled.

"Like I said, she doesn't taste good. I never give her head."

And he attached his lips to your heat, slurping noisily, sighing in satisfaction as you squeezed his head with your thighs, hot and slick tongue sparking your sensitive skin, fuck, yes, this is what pussy should taste like, so sweet, fuck, familiar and erotic, his hands sliding up and gripping your ass, firm and solid while staring up at you, opening his mouth and letting you see the pink, wet muscle flick and dance over your clit, ghosting it with pleasure but not giving it to you, your honey-like juices glistening on his lips and chin.

You clenched your jaw. "Get serious already. Stop fucking around."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

"I'm always serious with you."

His lips closed in and he made your mind go blank, soft black hair fanning out on your thigh, fast, swift, powerful licks all over your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks and jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine from your core, one of your hands twisting in his hair, bunching it up, his sharp jaw cutting into your inner thighs because you were squeezing so hard, but Jungkook didn't care, always saying, do it, choke me with your thighs, if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die eating you out, his long fingers splayed out over your ass and pushing your hips into his face, making you hump his waiting mouth and his punishing tongue, hot flames of desire taking over, your head tipping back, pulling on his long hair, moans of his name tumbling from your throat, suck harder, fuck, seeing black from the sudden blinding tension, his skillful tongue fiercely teasing your engorged clit in the overwhelming tightness, snapping the strings of sanity.

"J-Jungkook!"

The impossible high, the violent shivers, shooting into accelerated free-fall, your fingers unclasping from his hair and pushing his head into your throbbing core, his tongue shoving into your folds and moaning at the sensation of your muscles clamping around it, sucking it all out, your orgasm consumed by his greedy mouth.

Your name vibrated in your own pussy, delivered by sinning lips and hazy dark brown orbs drugged with lust.

Back then, when it was falling apart, you told Jungkook all sorts of things and he said all sorts of things back. Painful things, hateful things, pitiful things, pointless things, never having a real conversation about how deeply he hurt you.

Only later, a strange moment, seeing Jungkook at your front door, seeing it in his eyes. Something different.

He asked you if you wanted to fuck with no strings attached.

You bit back, as wounded animals do.

Why? You were such a waste of time.

Jungkook didn't know it, but his next words made you agree to this ridiculous arrangement.

Yeah, but I was your waste of time and that's all I ever wanted to be.

When he kissed you now, it was hungry and heady, drunk on your taste and you, forcing his tongue into your mouth and thrusting into your lips. Tangled bodies, tangled tongues, tangled minds, falling into the bed, his hands in your hair and yours in his, whispers of, she'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel, your lips and tongue all over his jaw and ear, biting down on it, earrings jingling against your cheek, his moan above your head as you traveled down, marking his skin with sharp bites and thick swipes of saliva, pretty pink marks all over his torso, contrasting the bruises.

"Of course not," Jungkook panted, a shuddering groan torn out of his throat as your nails raked down his back and then glided back up, fingertips pressing into the irritated skin, soothing it. "She never fucking listens to me or my body because she's an idiot."

You traced the curves of his muscles, lips ghosting kisses, hot and soft and sharp from breath and tongue and teeth, his body becoming yours from persistent, familiar touch, his name in your mouth and on his skin, your saliva dripping over his hard, thick length, and then your mouth was on it, his taste on your tongue, in your throat, and in your memory.

Jungkook moaned your name.

With longing, pain, and love.

When's the wedding?

Next year.

Huh. Good for you.

No, it isn't, and you know it. Bet you're glad I'm going to be miserable forever.

You've made me miserable forever, so serves you right.

"Get off, I don't want to blow my load in two seconds, fuck!"

You swallowed him as deep as you could and then pushed your head down so the tip was buried into your throat, swelling and twitching at the unbearable, euphoric constriction.

"F-Fuck, please, let go, fuck... oooh, shit..."

Your tongue outlined the underside of his length, humming around his cock, rubbing the base of the head and straining to slurp at it, letting him hear you, lewd, obscene, unafraid.

If he really wanted to, he could pull out now.

Jungkook breathed your name, savoring every syllable.

You stared into dark brown eyes, black pupils expanded, watching his jaw flinch and his shoulders shake, black tattoos shivering as you slowly removed your tight mouth, popping it off his cock with a wet plop.

His normally smooth, silvery voice was trembling, the pleasure deepening it.

"God, I hate you."

Jungkook and you could say it a thousand times, a million times, for all of time, and both of you would know neither ever meant it.

I love you.

Get out, Jungkook.

But–

Get the fuck out! You think you can fuck me and tell me you love me? Like that's going to somehow negate all the previous bullshit you put me though? No. Take your clothes and your pathetic self and get out. Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

He would. He did.

Over and over.

You towered over him now, waiting for him to roll the condom down, watching his face as you sank down onto his stiff length, seeing the elation, the gratification, the absolute bliss in the way your pussy suffocated him, tight, wet, his, your head dipping down and taking his lips, yours, fitting yourself around his girth that became harder as you bottomed out, his moan feathering over your lips as you rolled your hips into his with a firm smack.

"Oh, fuck, feels so fucking good..."

He knows you're not going to fuck someone else. You have to see other people so he finally realizes how important you are to him.

That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard in my life, Taehyung.

If you don't refuse him, he won't change.

I was never important enough to him in the first place.

Those chocolate orbs watching you, his strong hands on your hips, fingers pressing into your skin and leaving crescents of his nails, matching your pace, harsh, deep slaps of skin to skin, your name on the tip of his tongue, balanced in the tightrope of all or nothing, zero or one.

They want me to take over the family business.

Having a trophy wife is important for that kinda shit.

You're the perfect trophy.

Yeah, me and my mechanical heart.

Jungkook switched your positions, rolling over and pinning you down, perfect white teeth sinking into his pink lower lip, the black mole underneath prominent against his tense jaw, fucking you into your mattress, panting, giving you his all, aching pleasure with every rough thrust, your back arching and hands on his long black hair, clutching his head and raising your hips to meet that full hardness and to hit your favorite spot, sending bursting sparks of ecstasy up your spine and into your lungs, rendering you airless.

Nothing but pleasure, nothing but need, nothing but physicality.

“Look at me,” Jungkook rasped, hoarse from breathing so hard.

You lowered your head and raised an eyebrow. His parted lips had small cuts from stress-biting them. His tan skin was as lovely as ever, dotted with small moles on his nose, cheek, neck, underneath his lip, kisses from the moon, not bothering to wear makeup to cover them. He never did, not with you, not when his time could be better utilized being all over you. Dark brows and chocolate eyes, large, sharp, expressive, beautiful, your Jungkook.

Your country, your world, your universe.

You smirked as you looked at that face. He cocked a brow, black curls falling over his eye as you lifted your hand.

“You know what would piss them off?”

You didn’t need to say who.

He clicked his tongue and slammed his hips down on you, but you only clenched around him, causing him to pause and savor the feeling. His length wrapped in your warmth, connected in the most visceral way, his breath mixing with your breath. Dark brown orbs on you, half-lidded and shadowed by his lashes and long hair.

“What?”

You pushed his hair aside and traced his right eyebrow, stroking the hairs of the tail.

“If you got a face piercing.”

Jungkook grinned, low chuckle in his throat. “Yeah?”

You lifted yourself up to smack your hips into him, holding onto his broad shoulders with your other arm to balance yourself, devious smirk on your lips.

“You won’t do it.”

He leaned down, putting more force into each thrust. Your grip tightening, gasping into his face, eye to eye, dragged along by Jungkook’s intensity and passion, breathing in his exhale, drinking in his fervor, blind to the wrongness, deaf to everything but the sound of bodies, wetness to hardness, and the way he said your name, like there was nothing else, nothing but you and him and ecstasy, nothing but the sensation of how hard and how full his cock felt when he was inside you, nothing but how strongly and viciously you pulsed around him, toppling over the edge, moaning his name and staring into his eyes, into the eyes of the one that made you orgasm and mean it with every fiber of your being.

“Jungkook…”

He sucked in a breath and gasped your name, cock twitching and spurting into the condom, plunging forward, kissing you hungrily and deeply, shoulders shaking in your hands, stealing your breath, muffled cries sliding into your throat from his, anguish at the force of his climax, sweeping you up with him.

It was a long kiss.

He finally broke it, heavy exhale against your lips, not lifting his head, his black hair spilling all over your face, not letting you see anything.

Mouthing words against your cheek that you could feel, but it was a silent utterance, a soundless scream into the abyss that he alone was sinking, living a life without you.

Enjoy your piranha.

Ha, ha, very funny.

She’s not gonna notice?

He hadn’t said anything, pulling his turtleneck over his head and shaking out his long black hair like a dog. You had pulled your blankets over your naked body and looked away, not wanting to see him any longer.

You’re trash, Jungkook.

Yeah, but I could buy you a Louis Vuitton bag, easy.

You’ve been hanging around your parents too much. I don’t give a shit about your money or your influence and I never did.

Everyone likes money.

Everyone likes you too. Oh, wait, except me. I guess I’m excluded from everyone.

He hadn’t said anything more. You didn’t tell him goodbye when he left.

You waited until your heart became numb again. Then you mechanically crawled out of bed and cleaned up all traces of his existence, going all the way outside to dispose of the condom and the wrapper so you wouldn’t accidentally look at them in the trash later. You put your clothes back on, one by one, and went about your day. And the next day. And the next. And the.

And.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” you would say to whoever asked. You would smile and nod.

Time went on.

You would open the door and no one was there.

You would close the door and go back inside.

You would open the door.

And Jeon Jungkook was there, with a cut on his lip and a black-purple bruise underneath his left eye.

His right eyebrow was slightly swollen, two stainless steel balls connected by a silver bar pierced into the end of his brow. His clothes were torn up, his white dress shirt dirtied and his dark wash jeans torn, brown mud caked on one knee. He looked at you, chest shuddering, wheezing for breath.

“Hah…”

He smirked, the gesture not reaching his eyes. Those dark brown orbs were desolate, numb. He wiped his lip with the back of his hand and winced.

“I think they’re mad at me.”

You raised your eyebrows.

He flicked a hand through his now short black hair and ticked his head. “They told me not to show my face in front of them ever again and that I can kiss my inheritance goodbye.”

You leaned against your doorframe. “They took the silver spoon from your mouth over an eyebrow piercing?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I guess it pissed them off when I said I wasn’t going to take it out.”

He made eye contact and you saw him trying to tell you that he had changed.

Well.

Was forced to change, now poor and cast away.

“I know you said I was a waste of time,” Jungkook sighed, heavy and remorseful. “But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.”

You looked into those chocolate orbs that always told you they loved you.

“They knew, huh?”

He smiled ruefully. “I didn’t try to hide it. She knew, they knew, they probably all knew where I went.”

“And what will you do when they ask you to come back?”

Jungkook stood at your doorstep and told you words that you had always wanted to hear, but he had been too afraid to say, afraid of the repercussions, confused of his own feelings, too selfish at the time to realize how much he had hurt you. Time and emptiness had taught him pain and taught him what it meant to be without.

The time taught him how it felt to be not one, but zero.

“Tell them I should have left a long time ago and stayed with you, because you always let me be whoever I wanted to be even though all I was doing was wasting your time.”

He faced you, you and your mechanical heart that he created with his silence.

“I’m sorry.”

His apology meant nothing to you, far too late.

“Now I have nothing but time.”

It never mattered. You always knew Jungkook was sorry from the moment he asked to fuck with no strings attached. It was for him and for you. For him to touch you once more, even if it was all a lie, and for you and your mechanical heart, cleaning off the rust and giving it a moment to feel. He knew. You knew.

Without each other, you were both zeros when you could have been one.

And it was all his fault.

I know you’re not here, but I love you, Jungkook.

You sighed.

Then you shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I got nothing but time too.” You tilted your head, chuckling. “And even now, I waste it on you.”

Jungkook smiled sadly. He didn’t ask to be forgiven. He didn’t ask to be invited in. He just stood at your doorstep, finally able to say the words he should have said. He didn’t ask you to love him. You already knew he loved you. He mouthed it all the time, I love you, against your cheek, after each and every rendezvous, without fail.

Now he had nothing.

But you could see he was going to give it his all this time.

You stepped away from the doorframe and turned around, waving him in.

“If you’re gonna be my waste of time, at least wash your face.”

continued in LO$ER=?, m | jjk

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

523 notes · View notes

m00nchildthings · 4 years ago

Text

BNHA BOYS WITH A THICC S/O

I might make a part two with some of the other bnha boys if yall like this one enough though👀 but for now please enjoy my main 4 ╰(*°▽°*)╯ ooh before i forget @tui-lah ;-)

MIDORIYA

· Honestly, I headcannon him as being the most attracted to thicker girls

· Just really enjoys a cute pair of cheeks and soft thighs and loves plush hips to hold onto

· Always wants to be touching you even if it’s just holding your hand

· Likes to sit you on his lap and wrap his arms around you and hold you when you have time alone

· In private though the boy cannot keep his hands off of you even more

· Always wants to kiss you, run his tongue across yours and suck it into his mouth

· LOVES your thighs to heaven and back

· Loves leaving kisses all over them sucking hickies and massaging them

· Thinks you make the cutest noises when he gets close to your cunt

· Which is his favorite part to love on because then he gets to feel those soft thighs wrapped around his head

· There is no sweeter heaven then running his tongue through your folds and having your thighs squeeze around him probably moans more than you

· Sucks on your clit until your creamy cunt starts to flutter and you try to push him away

· Grabs your thighs and holds you tight as you cum on his tongue lapping at you constantly from your entrance to your clit

· Don’t think he’s done with you yet though the only thing that rivals him going down on you is holding your thighs together and fucking into them before slipping into your still sensitive cunt

· Enjoys how you look with him pressing your thighs into your chest while he fucks you way past spent

BAKUGOU

· Bakugou is an ass man sorry not sorry

· So there you was double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon hella ass the sun was still out

· And Bakugou felt in his heart that he was gonna tap that shit or die trying

· Throughout the pining/courting stage you easily catch him eyeing up your cakes he does it so unashamedly

· When the two of you finally do get together though your ass may be attached to you it is no longer your possession

· Walking on dates he has one hand slipped into your back pocket at all times only because you had to talk him down from walking around with one of your cheeks gripped in his hand

· Going to take a shower well scooch over Bakugou has to make sure you’re keeping his ass nice and clean

· Going to bed well either its spooning that quickly turns into Bakugou rutting against your ass like a dog in heat or chest to chest with hands gripping a handful of ass each

· Foreplay is just you on your hands and knees getting fingered while Bakugou licks up your cheeks grabbing a mouthful biting deep into your ass loves leaving marks

· God this boy loves hitting it from the back seeing your ass jump every time his thighs hit your ass…hypnotizing

· The thing Bakugou loves the most the feel of your cunt gripping around his dick while your ass bounces against him

· Activates his quirk a little bit with every spank to get that perfect handprint tattoo on your ass he loves it

· But if you know how to throw it back do so, give him a lil lap dance tease and he will be putty under your cheeks dick hard af not even knowing what to do.

· Grind on him hard and have that boy begging you to let him take his dick out and at least grind it in between your cheeks

KIRISHIMA

· Kirishima is a sweet boy who loves his girlfriend and who would never objectify her

· But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t stare whenever you bent over to pick up something in the dorm

· He’d be lying atrociously if he said that he didn’t think about pulling those panties down and shove his face into your cunt till your legs are shaking

· So one day as you’re studying in your room listening to music, you’re almost surprised to find him knocking on your door in nothing but a pair of sweatpants (those sweatpants)

· You’re not surprised though, when he asks to chill with you on your bed while you study and sits right next to you thigh to thigh

· You’re even less surprised when you feel his mouth pressing against your neck, you chuckle even as he goes to close your textbook, you know the drill

· You lay down on your stomach and lift up your hips to help Kirishima slide down your shorts and panties licking his lips at the sight of your pussy

· Bite the pillow because the moment this boy goes down on you his tongue will be on your cunt like white on rice sucking your pussy lips and running his tongue up and down you from clit to vagina

· By the time he’s done there’s a wet spot on your bed and your legs are spread and shaking

· But don’t think he’s done with you yet, that was just an appetizer to prepare him for the main course he grabs your ass with one hand and pulls his weeping thick cock running it up and down your folds before slowly splitting you open on it

TODOROKI

· Let us get one thing clear Todoroki doesn’t care about your size he just wants real love and attention from someone he likes

· That being said he does love having your soft body to cuddle up to especially those nice tiddies of yours

· Todoroki has an exceptionally soft mommy kink that he is not at all embarrassed of

· So expect him to wrap those soft thighs of yours around his waist and spend some time giving your boobs a lot of attention

· He looks so peaceful sucking on a nipple rubbing your sides and grinding up against you

· Eyes all lidded and just so cute with a red blush running across his cheeks as he just gets lost in the motions

· Slide off him and he’s gonna resist eagerly trying to follow your boobs

· But pull out his dick and slowly ride it, grab his face and shove it into your chest and he’ll be in love with you forever

· Bucking up into you and licking into the valley of your chest, biting sucking all he wants at your boobs while your pussy creams his dick is heaven for him

· Nuzzles into you after filling you up before falling asleep mouth latched to a nipple and arms wrapped around your plush waist mumbling about how much he loves you

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poppy-metal · 3 years ago

Note

sorry im just all over u today but i wanna make izu mad 🥺 wanna watch his face flush and that vein in his neck flex :(( watch him scrub a hand down his jaw ‘cause im bein difficult <33333333 then suck him off to say sorry yk?

apology blowjobs 🥺🥺

takes alot to make izu truly mad, n' its not like you wanna do it on purpose (yes u do) hes just so busy sometimes uno? its not fair, and hes too nice to everyone, and you're his special girl so why does he half to smile w dimple at all his fans. uncalled for. what makes him mad the most is when you get petty and pick at his love for you, pout and whine and say "you don't even love me anymore." Or "go with one of your groupies, im sure they're much less bratty then me."

It just makes him so mad. you know he'd die for you, that he adores and worships you, acting like his feelings for you are so flippant makes him really upset. makes his jaw tick and his voice go all serious when he says, "you're so mean sometimes, you know that?" or sometimes even worse, just a "stop talking."

it never fails, that tone of voice, to make you simper immediately. its true, you like teasing him and pushing his buttons and making him exasperated, always fun for you when he bends you over and makes you squeal out your apologies. but when he gets like this, you know you pushed too far.

n' even then, you're not the best at outright apologies. not the best with words. you show him with actions instead, wrapping your arms around him from behind and pawing at him till he turns around, sinking to your knees and looking up at him with your puppy dog eyes that always do him in.

izuku always makes you work for it. he never has the strength to push you away, but he does good at remaining angry for some time, even as you tug his sweats down and his cock bobs free. even though hes hard and heavy and hot in your hand hes looking down at you with those calm eyes that make you whimper pitfully n nuzzle his cock like its a gift.

"m'sorry, izu. really, really."

n at this you feel one of his hand card through your hair, almost soft, almost gentle, until it fists at the back and he says coldly. "i don't believe you."

its times like those, when your throat really gets abused. you work harder then you ever have, usually his willing pillow princess, putting in so much work taking him down your throat, keeping him there until your nose is touching his rough patch of curls at the base of his cock, throat constricting around him.

tears running, drool dripping, its messy and tactless, trying to please him and show him how sorry you are. gagging lovingly around him and moaning as you take his balls into your mouth and lick around them. feel his thighs tense and a sigh leave his mouth as he finally gives you some slack. lets you know you're making him feel good.

he takes over then, gripping your head and saying. "stay still- like that. just like that." you let him use you like a fleshlight, take his pleasure as he fucks in and out of your slick parted lips as you merely kneel there in submission and let him take from you selfishly.

when he cums you milk him greedily, squeezing his sack of all the remaint of cum and gulping it down gratefully. he's shaking by the end of it, pulling out of your mouth and looking at how debauched n ruined you look. he knows he should still be angry, and maybe he is. but his heart is a weak, hungry thing, and loving you always feeds it best.

his hands are gentle again when he tugs you back up and wraps his arms around you, stroking down your back. he sighs, "what am i going to do with you, baby."

when he calls you baby, you know you're forgiven. cuddling into him, "whatever you want." you kiss his neck, "love you."

he'll be using that 'whatever he wants' against you later. :)

#ask #frens <3 #semmy wemmy 💕#i love him so dearly

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echo-of-sounds · 4 years ago

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daddy dom

Headcanons on the types of Daddy Dom Aizawa, Gang Orca, and Hound Dog are.

I was going to include all six guys in this but it got so much longer than I initially planned. Toshi, Hizashi, and Fatgum are coming tomorrow!

Warnings: Daddy Dom relationship, (the rest is only mentioned, there’s no real detail) punishments, choking, slapping, spanking, spitting, hair pulling, and rough sex

Aizawa Shouta

Shouta had an inkling he was interested in dominance when he started having sex. The Daddy Dom surfaced after a one-night stand happened to moan ‘Daddy.’ He enjoyed it, looked into the subject deeper, and realized that’s exactly what he wanted, needed. However, he hasn’t had a relationship where he’s felt comfortable enough or been in one long enough to practice it.

As your relationship develops, it is something he brings up because he isn’t shy about it. He wants to be your Daddy. He wants to be his girl’s protector and her anchor. He praises you when you’re doing well. He says how proud he is. He loves and cuddles you on your bad days. When you’re crying and scared, he’s right beside you, huddling you to his chest, protecting you from whatever you fear.

Pet names are a rarity. On the odd occasion a good girl slips out, it’s a telltale sign he’s in a highly dominant mood. You’re expected to listen, do what you’re told, and say, ‘please and thank you.’ To make you feel fluttery and happy, he’ll call himself Daddy as he’s helping you.

Kitten is even more limited. He uses it when you dress up in the pink lingerie he bought you. It has a little collar with a bell, a cat-eared headband, garter bands, and cute, frilly panties and bra. There’s also a cat tail butt plug you can play with. But there’s a catch- there’s depreciation. If you use it too much, he isn’t as excited and it’s clear to see. You need to keep the lingerie away until you’re in dire need of your Daddy and a good fucking.

He takes pride and joy in seeing your smile at a new, fancy bracelet or an adorable teddy bear. But he’s uncertain when buying. He knows what you like, yet he just can’t decide on which dress you’d prefer. Despite his self-doubts, his presents are usually excellent, especially any soft, thigh-high stockings or cute, striped panties he brings home.

Though you won’t ever be able to tell, sometimes it is hard for Shouta to discipline you. He enjoys your bratty moods and how you ignore his commands to sit still. Your whimpers and whines and facial expression are incredibly cute. But at the end of the day, he is your Daddy and it’s his responsibility to keep you on track and provide stability. His go-to punishment is no orgasming… for a long time. You can’t touch yourself or grind on a pillow. If you beg, it’ll only extend the punishment. Occasionally, spanking is also used, particularly when you’re riding him and not listening.

Highly dominant doesn’t always mean rough. Yes, he is that most of the time. But he has periodic moods where he won’t use discipline. It’s when he’s in a coddling mood. Daddy becomes gentle, erotic, intent, and intimate. Don’t hold back your moans. Please, whine and whimper and fuss and mewl. Your soft cries and little wriggles please him so.

When he is rough, you’ll be leaving red streaks down his back. He loves seeing them in the mirror the next morning, so he strives to get you that aroused and pleasured every time. And nothing is truly off the books for him. Whatever you wish, he’ll command: slapping, spanking, choking, hair pulling, and spitting.

Shouta is more of a nonverbal Daddy. Both of you know he’s dominant and it’s your job to behave, so he doesn’t feel the need to command you as much as others may. He just yanks your body around as he pleases, slaps and chokes you when you don’t listen or get off-topic, and spits on your tongue to get you to quiet down. Now that doesn’t mean he won’t talk. At your misdoings, his steeled voice is gruff and guttural, commanding, punishing, and asking what you did wrong.

Daddy gets even more domineering when you cum without permission. That’s the one rule you should never break. If he’s feeling charitable (which is rarer than a blue moon), he’ll let you cum. Other times, he’s deepthroating you, cumming down your throat, and making you swallow it. And that’s all you’ll get. Again, don’t beg. That’ll worsen the punishment. All you can do is be a good girl and hope he lets you cum in the next few days.

Gang Orca

Kugo never considered himself a Daddy or any sort of dominant man in general. The few times he’s had sex, he was more on the submissive side, letting his partner lead and ride him as they wished. His fear of hurting his partner really held him back. However, the instant he hears you softly, weakly whine Daddy, gently pawing his chest, pining for him to make you feel good, the switch is flicked and there’s no going back.

Before he fully engages in the Daddy Dom relationship, he does a lot of reading and asks you question after question. If he ever hurt you or pushed past your limits, he’d all but die inside. You need to ease into it. Let him become accustomed to the power dynamics, the dirty talking, what’s expected from him, and the lifestyle.

In the beginning, he’s as sweet as can be. You’re his little one whom he loves to spoil. He buys you dainty panties, comfy sweaters, and dresses for every occasion. You should always model clothing for Daddy. He’ll appreciate your appreciation. As you turn around in a cute, lace nightgown, his fingers flow up your thighs, caressing between them, gently brushing along your new panties, making sure everything fits perfectly.

He gradually leans into the discipline aspect as the relationship grows. Once comfortable with himself and you, the punishments come frequently. They depend on the severity of your bad behavior. If you don't listen, you don’t get sweets. If you didn’t listen twice, you have extra chores to do. If you didn’t listen three times, no sexual gratification of any kind for however long Daddy deems necessary.

In spite of that, he is a weak Daddy when it comes to his little one. Your puppy-dog eyes burrow into his heart. Your wiggling thighs get him heated. Your little mewls for your Daddy’s attention haunt him. But he doesn’t give in all the time. He still has structure, stability, and dominance to uphold.

Kugo is truly a safe Daddy. He’s your secret place where your every thought, desire, emotion, and fear will always be heard, understood, and respected. Whatever you tell Daddy when you’re curled up on his chest, snuggled in his arms, stays with Daddy. He guides you through the crowded mall, nurses the cuts on your legs, acts as an anchor through depression and anxiety, and protects you from the rumbling thunder. And by God, is he protective.

Protectiveness is his main characteristic. He wants you to wear his T-shirt and sweatshirts. When he cums, he seats himself fully insides, letting him empty out completely. His hands rub your lower stomach like he’s feeling his property. Even as he falls flaccid, he stays inside. He needs to make sure everything has drained. If he could, he’d keep you filled with his seed forever.

Tender, slow sex involves you riding Daddy. He squeezes your thighs and tummy as you bounce. He praises every movement, every part, every itty-bitty sound. Your passion is so important to him. Seeing your body seek out its pleasure and rapture in the safety of your own little world fills his heart with love.

Dominant Daddy is less common yet so fulfilling. His thick, wet tongue washes deep. Fingers spread you wide. His erection spreads you further. You’ll be thrown on the bed, stuck under him for multiple beautiful orgasms. As you cum, moan ‘thank you’ again and again. Your gratitude encourages him. He’ll keep you moaning into the morning.

Hound Dog

The second Ryo entered that seriously horny stage of puberty, he knew his dominance. As he started having sex, it only flourished. He’s rough, fast, controlling, and one-hundred percent, hands down a brat tamer. Your whines and protests are cute, but he always wins. Hearing his rasping, growling voice is enough to get you to concede to his demands.

Aftercare and any delicate aspects will take time and learning on his part. He wants to be so gentle, caring, and sweet with you. His natural rough nature gets in the way. As any good Daddy is patient with his little girl, a good girl needs to be patient with him. And when he gets there, he gets there. You’ll be swaddled in a warm blanket, given candy and drinks, and your favorite bed-time Tv will play while you wind down. His warm, smooth tongue laps over bruises and scratches.

There’s one big thing about this Daddy: God, he just loves to watch you suck: him (specifically his foreskin), his fingers, your fingers, a lollipop, a pacifier, whatever. Lay on his chest, wrapped in a blanket, and nurse on a binkie as you fall asleep. The most common way sex starts is with a blowjob. It commonly ends that way as well. He either makes you finish him with no pleasure for you or, after you’re finished, he lays you down and deepthroats you.

Right off the bat, punishments are a main part. There’s a written list on the fridge you must obey. Though he doesn’t spank. You might act up just to get spanked, and he won’t have that. The discipline always matches the offense. Are you back talking? You’re eating something you don’t like. Is your temper too hot? You’re taking an ice-cold shower for five minutes. Are you ignoring him? Daddy’s going to rile you up then leave you hanging and whining, showing you what it’s like to be neglected.

After the punishment is complete, Ryo transitions right into aftercare. Daddy loves you enough to punish you. That love is strengthened after by his licks and kisses. Besides, Daddies who don’t show their little girl compassion and care afterward, aren’t good Daddies. He loves and respects you and wants you to know, see, and feel that.

And the punishments never push past your boundaries. You’re never put in danger. In any way. The safe word is always available. He won’t give you food you truly can’t handle for whatever reason. He’s right beside you as you shower just in case something goes wrong. The moment the water’s shut off, you’re immediately swathed in a cozy towel.

During one of his more… inflamed moods, you’re fastened in a collar. It’s pink with little flowers. The heart decoration on the front is a padlock. Only he has the key. It has ‘Daddy’s Girl’ inscribed on the back. It goes on as soon as you get home. And it stays on until you leave. There is a leash he’ll use if you aren’t behaving, holding, leading, and controlling all your movements.

There are times when he goes into (sort of) a heat. It could be a quirk side effect. It could just be him. Either way, you’re going to get completely dominated. Your hair will be pulled. Your throat will be choked and fucked. Your cheeks, both sets, will be red and raw. Scratch marks and dark bruises will stain your neck, legs, and back.

His favorite is any doggy-style position. It’s carnal and crude. Daddy has total authority since his weight bears down, caging you to the bed. Use your voice. Let him hear every gasp and cry. Beg for him. Plead for more. Pray for just one more orgasm as your hair’s tugged and clit’s smack sore. The harder you crave, the harder he thrusts.

Sweet sex is a rare time when he kisses and cuddles. Heat surrounds you. Muscled thighs and callused hands direct your weak, longing body. His tongue never leaves your mouth, licking over yours, causing drivel to drip down your chin. It may not be rough, but the sincerity and intimacy provide more than enough pleasure for an amazing orgasm. And Daddy passionately walks you through it.

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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sleeping beauty

— You struggle to find a time to have sex with your beloved Aizawa. Unfortunately or fortunately, the only time you can fuck him is when he’s deep asleep.

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pairing: aizawa shouta x yandere fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, yandere!reader, non-con somnophilia, hairy aizawa rights, recording

word count: 4,201

a/n: mark ur calendar, im getting my nipples pierced nov 8. you bet ur ass imma write a bunch of nipple pierced readers from there on out. pray that my family never finds out about my nipples tho LMAO if they do,,, it;ll be ripped out of my boobies without a seconds hesitation

kinktober day 19 main kink: somnophilia | kinktober masterlist

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Aizawa was always busy.

Over the past ten years of knowing him, the two of you had been close. You were a good friend to him, someone he wouldn’t absolutely avoid at all costs when you walked through the hallways of UA, someone he wouldn’t mind rambling to him about their long day. Of course, you knew that you weren’t his closest friend, and to a certain degree, that upset you.

You had met Aizawa when you had first been a high school student; at the time, you were merely fifteen years old. He was twenty, only five years older than you, but he took your breath away from the first team-up. He had been tall, dark, and brooding, and your little coming out of an emo phase heart stood no chance. But, due to the age discrepancy, he was never anything more than a team member. Still, you held on.

You graduated from high school, made your impact as a sidekick, graduated to a Pro Hero, and offered a job at UA by the time you were twenty! So, for the past five years, you and Aizawa had been actual co-workers, and better yet, friends.

Aizawa indeed was one of a kind.

He still held the key to your emo school girl fantasy daydream, but you also discovered new sides and angles of him. You learned he was incredibly kind, thoughtful, and looked out for everyone, even if his gruff and sometimes rude mannerisms spoke otherwise. Although he tried to avoid any type of nonsensical drama like the plague, he was always caught up in it, which often amused you.

There was so much about Aizawa that you loved, so much that you adored and looked up to that it was no surprise that you figured your feelings of respect and admiration became love.

True, deep love.

As a third-year teacher at UA, you found that your interactions with Aizawa were quite limited. Not only because he was always being placed with a first-year class and said class moving on without him — something that only happened because he kept expelling the damn students — but because he was incredibly close with the first-year teachers.

You loved Present Mic and Midnight and All Might, don’t get it wrong! Your admiration, love, and respect for them were unprecedented, but you hated how much of Aizawa’s time they took.

“Sorry, Mic needs help with lesson plans for my class,” Aizawa apologized for postponing your lunch date, not a date.

“Sorry, Midnight needs help separating the problem children. Apparently, they’re growing an immunity to her quirk,” Aizawa grumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket before leaving your office where you both had been talking and drinking tea.

“Sorry, All Might—”

“It the class, your problem children, I get it,” you force a smile onto your face, trying not to show just how irritated and disappointed you were on how these days were going. Aizawa pauses for a second, his tired, dried out eyes trying to read and uncover the depths of emotions swimming in your eyes before he sighs and runs off.

But it went without saying that the people you hated most were Class 1-A.

The damn stupid, fucking, ungrateful class had already caused your beloved Aizawa to be hospitalized. The scar under his eye, a numbing reminder that you had nearly lost him, almost had to cry at his coffin with your feelings never once being uttered. They, without a doubt, took up his time the most.

He saw potential in all of them, none of them being failed or expelled by him thus far.

He spent countless hours up in the dead of night tracking each and every one of his student’s potential. Slaving away at his tablets to make sure that they all were feeling safe, heroic, and above all, they were headed to their individual greatness. So, although it would be two more years before you would have the opportunity to teach this class, you already had a vendetta against Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki. Those little shits always taking up your precious Aizawa’s time! He had never been this tired prior to them showing up!

But you never tried to think about it when you were with him.

You tried to openly accept your Aizawa’s new, incredibly busy schedule, and the moment the dorms appeared within UA, you found yourself more at ease.

To be frank, since you acknowledged your love for Aizawa at the mere age of twenty, and now at twenty-five, you had never taken on a lover or a one night stand. For years you had not allowed a person to grace you in bed or in their arms. It felt like you were betraying your love, and you would rather die than let that happen.

But the thing is, you are human, entirely susceptible to waves of uncontrolled horniness and lust.

In the beginning, sex toys worked.

You would press a vibrator to your clit, your toes digging into the mattress as your other hand shoved a silicone dildo into your aching, needy cunt. At first, it worked! You would cum with the thoughts of Aizawa being the dildo buried deep within you.

But eventually, you would find yourself at the peak of that orgasm, you knew the orgasm was right beyond the bend, just a step more, but you couldn’t get there. For weeks you realized that the vibrator, the dildo, and your fantasy thoughts weren’t enough. So, in your frustration, you began to search up audio plays of his narration at UA Sports Festival. Listening to his voice, ignoring Mics’ voice, to help coax you over that bend.

For a while, you were back to normal. Your highs and juices splattering all over your bed, a symbol of your lust and love for Aizawa as you gasped his name, wishing that the audio was real. But eventually, even the audios weren’t enough.

You craved Aizawa’s warmth, the feeling of his rough stubble against your sensitive skin, the throbbing of his cock buried deep within your womb, undoubtedly kissing your cervix. You wanted him; you needed your beloved.

As if by the grace of God, the moment you could no longer bring yourself to cum through that alone, the dorm system was put into place. And you, a teacher, were required to live on campus too. You tried not to think of Aizawa being a dorm away, tried not to feel the warmth fluttering under your skin when the two of you bid goodnight for the day.

You definitely tried to stay out of his room in the middle of the night.

God, you wish you could say that you stayed out of his room, but that would be a lie.

A big fat fucking lie.

It had started out innocently enough, you will claim.

You would see the exhausted man wave goodnight, grumbling that he needed to sleep now or else he would not wake up on time for homeroom tomorrow morning. You waved goodnight to him, trying to stay engrossed in a conversation you were having with Hound Dog. But an hour after Aizawa had gone to bed, you found yourself rushing away from the common room, explaining you had something to grade as you bid everyone goodnight.

Without a doubt, you ended up in Aizawa’s room that night.

In the darkness of the night, you watched the moonlight barely breach the thickness of his curtains to fall onto his face. You felt so warm as you stared at his slumbered face, your cheeks flushed as you watched his parted, chapped lips. You felt so light watching his chest rise and fall in a hypnotizing rhythm, reminding you that he is real, so very, very real. A part of you aching, knowing that he was entirely real and yet not yours. But still, you admired the way he looked so young, so intense, so ethereal as he dreamed.

You loved him.

Eventually, when you decided to leave, you pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling at the way his lips were exactly as you had imagined:

Supple, warm, and tasting of his mint toothpaste.

But the nightly visits didn’t stop there.

Most nights, you found yourself in his room, laying by his side, merely watching as he slept. No orgasm in the world felt quite as fulfilling as the quiet that came with just watching the over-exhausted Aizawa sleep.

But this is not a story of simple love, no, not at all.

Eventually, you began to grow bold. Your fingers sinking into your wet cunt, playing with your sensitive clit as you watched him sleep. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning as a rasped breath expelled from his mouth. You nuzzled into the warmth of his body heat through at you and only prayed he would one day acknowledge and return your affections.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure when you began to suck him off too.

Maybe it was the first time his cock grew long and hard in the middle of the night, his mind undoubtedly having a wet dream. So, as his beloved, you only thought it was appropriate to give his body what he wanted. With the skills and intentions that could only arise from being a gifted Pro Hero, you pulled the blankets from his body and pushed his cock through the slit in his boxers, and took him all in your mouth.

His cock was absolutely mouthwatering too.

So big, so thick, so incredibly veiny that you nearly lost all control the first time you saw it in all its glory. He was better than any dildo you owned, his scent alone driving you crazy. And so, as you should, you began to fuck him, completely addicted to his aroma, taste, and touch.

After the first night, you continued to blow him. Continued to suck him off as Aizawa let out sleepy moans, grunts that were strained, his body shifting unknowingly as you continued to go up and down his length, continuing to relieve him of his stress.

But you were human.

A human with needs and desires, and eventually, his cum coating your throat and filling your stomach wasn’t enough anymore. Which is where we find ourselves now, unashamedly fucking Aizawa each and every night, your cunt swallowing him whole, without a single shred of doubt of what was wrong with this.

There wasn’t anything wrong with this, and you knew that even if he was asleep the entire time you fucked him, it was for the better.

“Wow, Eraser!” Mic yelled from your side as you sat on the couch next to your beloved best friend. “You look like you’re glowing!”

Looking up from your phone, attempting to portray yourself as curious and unknowing, you found your gaze falling onto Aizawa, who had returned from an early evening training session with his class. As a matter of fact, Aizawa’s face was glowing; he looked incredibly much more relaxed, much more than he has been since the beginning of this semester.

“What do you mean?” Aizawa asked, evidently unimpressed as a lone eyebrow raised.

You watched on quietly, lips pressing to your cup as you took a drink of your tea as he sank onto a seat in front of you.

“Wait, don’t tell me, listeners!” Mic gasped dramatically, his hands pressing to his cheeks as he stood up. His expression of shock and disbelief curling and becoming one of knowing and understanding. “Does our grouchy, one and only, Aizawa Shouta, a.k.a. Eraserhead, have a special someone?!”

“Mic—” Aizawa snapped, his eyebrows furrowing.

“There definitely has been an after-sex glow that Eraser has had for the past few weeks. He did say that he’s been feeling more… ahem, relaxed,” Midnight gasped, seemingly appearing from nowhere, incredibly interested in the rumor of Aizawa having sex.

“Just because I’ve been feeling less tense doesn’t mean that I’m having sex.”

You giggled into your cup as the three of them began arguing, Mic and Midnights naturally loud noise quickly drowning out Aizawa’s fruitless attempts to shut down any sexscapades they were coming up with.

“Y/h/n, what do you think?!” Mic yelled, his hand pointed at you as if holding a microphone as Aizawa had him pressed and tangled within his capturing weapon. “Is Shouta-chan having sex?!”

Yes, your mind begs to say, but your mouth curls into a teasing smile, eyes locking onto Aizawa’s annoyed golden ones.

“I don’t think there’s anyone on this earth that Aizawa currently wants to fuck six feet into the mattress when he’s so busy,” you chide, your smile never entirely disappearing. At the same time, you take a long slow drink from your cup while everyone else (Mic only, really) continued to scream.

But you stayed there for the rest of the evening, working in silence with the rest of the group as next week’s lessons were laid out. Through a persistent, entirely stubborn will, Mic managed to get Aizawa to admit that he hasn’t had sex since the time he lost his virginity, to which Mic admitted to having had sex via orgies only. Midnight proudly announcing that she had a side piece at her disposal.

So as you checked through your lesson plans for the ethics book your students would be reading next week, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see their expectant gazes on you.

“I had sex last night,” you admit, unable to lie under their amused gazes.

“WITH WHO?! ARE YOU SNEAKING SOMEONE ON CAMPUS?!”

For the rest of the night, you smiled brightly, laughing with the rest of them all as talks and stories revolving around sex filled the air. It lasted until past midnight, and with a heavy sigh, Aizawa excused himself first. You waved goodnight, and soon Midnight left, followed by Mic.

You stayed on the couch, your own attention focused heavily on the time and not what you were supposed to be doing. It didn’t take much before the time faded from 00:00 to 01:45, and with a brush of your skirt, you headed precisely where you wanted and needed to be.

The walk to his second-floor room filled you with lust. Your body, like some Pavlovian dog, trained and knowing that you were about to fuck the love of your life while he slept. He was so beautiful while he slept, a true sleeping beauty. You especially thought he was stunning when he bit his lower lip, stifling a moan despite his heavy slumber.

Without so much as a second thought, you apparated into his room, your feet cushioned by the soft carpet of his room. And with a smile that was dripping with your love, you stared at Aizawa’s sleeping form. He was already deep in sleep, his body positioned on his back as if he knew what you were doing, accepting the inevitable actions you would take tonight as you did every night. He just looked so calm, so beautiful, so youthful when asleep. The scar under his eye almost invisible

But unlike most nights where he slept in a soft cotton long-sleeved shirt and sweats, you froze at the sight of the tight black t-shirt on his sleeping form, the shorts that were riding just the slightest bit too low on his sturdy, muscled hips. Your bit your fist, a bubbling heat of lust, and a whine tickling the back of your throat as you take in his sleeping form.

He was doing this on purpose.

Teasing you with this outfit on his sleeping body.

You huffed, inexplicably turned on as the small puffs of air past his lips seemed to thunder around the room.

You were wet already, so very wet.

“You’re so mean, Shouta-kun,” you whimper softly, your voice silent and unheard by his sleeping form. You walk closer to the bed, lips pulled into a pout as you sit on the soft mattress. “Dressing up like that, I know you did that to tease me!”

Aizawa doesn’t respond because, of course, he’s asleep. But you smile regardless, imagining a million and three things he would say in response, each leading to what you wanted to do so desperately.

“I hope you know you were lying when you said you haven’t had sex since you were twenty,” you sigh, your fingers expertly removing his shorts and boxers from around his waist, using your quirk to make them reappear to the side of him. “We have sex practically every night; you’re so horny, my angel.”

You watch with a curling smile as his cock immediately begins to stiffen against your warm breaths, his face scrunching in his slight discomfort as his cock grows and grows. His cock is undeniably one of your favorite parts of his body. It’s pale in color, paler than the rest of his body, but as it extended to the swollen thickness of his head, it grew darker, the flushed brown pinkness of his head making you salivate at the memory of the first time you ever saw it. His cock, unlike the rest of his scarred body, was unharmed, unmarred by the horrors of the job the two of you held. The thick, beautiful smoothness of his skin, making your eyes flutter in unadulterated lust, his cock a symbol of your pure, unmarked love for him. You hum, hand grasping his length and lazily stroking him as your head tilts, reading his sleeping features for any sign of him enjoying this as much as you do.

“Aww, Shouta-kun, I wish you knew I fuck you. I bet you would turn bright red, knowing that I ride you every night. Maybe you’d use that weapon of yours to teach me a lesson or two,” you mumble, your hand gripping his cock harder as you stroke him.

A small glistening drop appears at the slit of his dick, and you shiver in excitement; he was already leaking pre-cum.

“Look at you, already ready to have my cunt wrapped around that big cock of yours,” you mewl, absolutely ready to mount him, prepared to have his sleeping form cum deep within you. You stand up, removing your shorts and panties, and climbing onto the bed.

With the balance of a pro, you get yourself hovering over him, your already wet cunt shivering with the expectance of having him deep within you. Your hand on his cock never once stopping as you tease yourself against his swollen head, your voice a pathetic whimper as your slick mixes with his clear pre-cum.

“S-See how embarrassing you are!” you huff, rutting his length between his folds, lubing him up for the initial entrance because, by god, it still hurt. “Making my pussy so wet! I’m practically dripping all over you!”

There’s only a soft breath from his lips, but you grin as if he was speaking to you.

“You want me too, huh?” you giggle, and without further adieu, you sink against him.

His cock entering your tight cunt was still as mind-numbing as the first time. His cock easily buries into the small, thin wall of your cervix, and you tremble as his length stretches and pulls at your throbbing core. You can feel every curve in his cock, every vein, every gentle throb.

“Glad t-to know you find me… nnghh… find me i-irresistible,” you pant, face flushed with your desire to adjust quickly around him.

The conversation from tonight had made you entirely weak in the knees and hot at your core, knowing that you were the only one to really have claimed Aizawa, the only one who would ever know how his sleeping body craved you as much as you desired him.

You give a tentative swirl of your hips, your eyes trained on Aizawa’s relaxed ones, testing to see how tired and sleepy he was. There was no reaction, no movement outside of the typical grunt at the back of his throat. It was a noise he always made when you first moved with him, a noise that quickly seared in the back of your memory forever.

Shifting your weight to be more comfortable on your knees, your hot hands fall onto his tight chest, and with a sigh of pure relief, you begin to fuck him.

Your straddling aided the deep penetration, allowing for the gentle kiss of the tip of his leaking cock to your thin cervix wall. You clenched tightly around him, unable to keep yourself from doing so as you rode him, the feeling of his throbbing member within you absolutely breathing taking as you placed your claim on him again, again, and again.

Aizawa was fully sheathed within you, and your fingers twisted and pulled at the tight fabric of his shirt, raising it up so that you could admire his taut, tense abdomen, mewling at the way he’s happy trail was thick and bushy. You wondered how he would react to your fingers threading through his body hair, if he would love it; if he would hate it.

“I want you to know how much I love you, how much I would give everything to you!” you whimper, your head fighting the instinct to throw itself back as you begin to drop onto his still cock faster and faster. “I wish you knew that you fuck me so good, Shouta-kun; I need you to know that! But you won’t even look at me! You won’t spare me a single second of your busy day, so that’s why I have to fuck you at night!”

Tears of both pleasure and hurt well into your eyes; you sniffle as you fuck him faster, dropping onto his awaiting cock with more significant, more aggressive slaps. The sounds echo throughout the room, the musky, sweet smell of your sexes is the only thing keeping you sane — that and the grunting noises that Aizawa keeps emitting, it makes your toes curl and belly flutter in a funny way.

“I bet you’ll fuck me so good once I get you to love me! You’ll never stop fucking me, you’ll never want to leave me because only I know how to fuck you correctly!” you snap, anger and lust licking through your tone, making your eyebrows furrow and your walls to clench even tighter around him. The building tension in your stomach is like a fire, and you can feel your high coming. “But you fuck me so good, baby, so good and you’re not even awake!”

And for the first time, you watch in electrifying pleasure as a low, husky, raspy moan leaves his throat as you fucked him. The sound alone was something downright pornographic to you, and the whine that spills from your mouth is nearly inaudible with the pitch it vibrates at. So without so much as a second thought, a bubbling smile spreads on your face, and you continue on, energy and excitement doubled in your joy.

Your hips roll, rise, and fall against his with growing force and speed. The small creaks of the mattress completely ignored by you as the throbbing and twitching of his cock buried deep within you keeps you pushing for more. The heat and pressure in your belly grow exponentially, festering and burning until you can feel yourself at the tipping point until you can’t do anything but focus on Aizawa and only Aizawa, or else you would scream his name in your euphoria.

The veins on his cock and the overall girth of his length send your mind spinning, not at all helping your predicament, and in a last-ditch effort to keep yourself from crying so loudly you would wake up even the dead, you lean forward. Your sweaty body leaning down to his parted chapped lips as you kiss him to keep yourself silent as your orgasm crashes through you in a blissful wave. Your body spasms almost uncontrollably, the nerves and firing axons through your body uncontrollable as you lay there, allowing for Aizawa to cum before you leave. You shudder at the feeling of his cum emptying out within you, his cock immediately softening as you lay there on top of him. His heart racing with his orgasm, and you sigh contentedly.

“God, I love you so much, Aizawa Shouta; I’ll make you mine one day,” you swear, your nose nuzzling his stubbled cheek.

You lay there for some time, enjoying the way he feels in you, content with the pooling cum from your still spasming cunt. But eventually, you pull away. You pull on your panties and shorts quickly, not wanting a single drop more of his cum to seep out of you. Unable to help yourself, you lick the leftover cum on his cock clean with your tongue before wiping him down with a towel to prevent the smell from clinging.

Your eyes study Aizawa’s face just before you leave, and your smile.

He really does look less tired after orgasming.

But the entire time you were there — the whole night you fucked him and spoke to him — you missed the red blinking light of the camera recording in the corner of the room.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #tw: somnophilia #bbs kinktober 2020

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kythed · 4 years ago

Text

what love tastes like

terushima yuuji x reader

synopsis: in which you learn that falling in love tastes like monster

“Taste,” he says. He holds the cold rim of a freshly opened can to your lips, and first it’s metallic, salty, but then it’s sweet.

You take a sip.

“So you’re telling me you’ve never tried Monster before?” he asks, taking a drink himself. The two of you are sitting on a park bench across the street from a gas station. He licks his lips-- the silver ball embedded in his tongue winks at you, a shallow token of youthful rebellion that somehow seems more significant on him.

“Never. I’m more of a Dr. Pepper girl.” You reach for the can again, letting the saccharine liquid sloshing inside coat your tongue. It’s really too much for me, you think. But of course, you won’t tell him that.

“Not anymore,” he says, and he slips a firm hand around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and daring you to look away with a wicked grin-- it’s attractive, to say the least. “Now you’re my girl.”

You’ve barely parted your lips to respond before his mouth is on yours, tongue halfway down your throat, and you’re whimpering into the kiss as he snakes a hand down your back and presses your body to his. The whole ordeal tastes like Monster and feels far more energizing than the packaging promises.

Within your first day of meeting him, Terushima Yuuji has already claimed you as his own.

And you’re okay with it.

He’s about as healthy for you as the Monster is-- which is to say, not at all.

In your next couple months of dating him, this becomes apparent. He takes you to the edge of the woods at twilight and lights your first cigarette, laughing as you take a draw and end up coughing. Plucking it from your fingers, he holds the cig high as smoke curls into the hazy sky and eventually melds with the faintly orange cumuli. “Guess it’ll take a little practice before you can smoke with the big dogs, huh?”

You flush and snatch it back, determined to prove your aptitude for defiance. By the end of the night, you can blow smoke rings-- he applauds, and for some odd reason your heart swells at his lazy grin.

(The next kiss tastes like tobacco and novelty.)

He shows you each of his tattoos, some of which peek out from underneath his clothes, some of which aren’t exactly visible to the onlooker’s eye. There’s a tendril of ivy climbing down his forearm, a flock of wild cranes taking flight from his left shoulder. A dark silhouette is on his chest, kneeling low to who knows what. You trace the image of an unlit candle on the back of his neck, asking what it means-- for a millisecond, his mouth tightens into an expressionless line, but then he laughs. “Why, you want one too? Let’s go to the parlor then.”

When you decline, he takes a permanent marker from his bedside table and prints a small label on your inner wrist. ‘Mine’ it says, accompanied by an oddly appropriate smiley face. “Then this will have to do.”

(This kiss tastes like ink and enigma.)

He brings you to a decrepit manor on the outskirts of town-- legend has it a young, newly wealthy couple purchased it twenty years ago, unaware its foundations rested on a centuries old cemetery. The spiteful spirits drove them to the brink of madness. The sort of madness that could only be alleviated by the resounding finality of death.

“They were found hanging from their bedsheets in the west wing,” Yuuji whispers to you, his breath tickling your ear. An unwanted tremor runs from your head to your high-tops. You don’t believe in ghosts, so it must be because you’re cold. (At least, that’s what you tell yourself.) “I want that kind of love.”

You turn, surprised to see his expression remains entirely serious. “The kind where you die for one another?”

“The kind where you die with one another,” he corrects, wistfully gazing into the dingy bay windows protruding from the manor’s anterior.

You remain silent.

“Life is just an accumulation of bad decisions, and love is just an accumulation of bad decisions you make with another person,” he muses, still peering at the grandeur of the lonely estate. He turns to you, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Wanna make a bad decision with me?”

The next hour is spent in the modest company of Yuuji, a couple of baseball bats, and the empty halls of a long dead house. There’s no one to witness the two of you shattering each dusty antique vase save for the portraits on the wall. Soon, their frames, too, receive a violent visit from a vindictive bat, usually accompanied by Yuuji’s unadulterated glee and a resounding whoop.

You’re not a fan of destruction. Especially not the destruction of rare, precious items reminiscent of a life bygone. Yet, it’s exhilarating to indulge in it, to swing your bat with a meaningless vengeance and watch as whatever priceless heirloom that evoked your baseless wrath fractures into pieces. You demolish a set of fine china found in the dining room cabinet and Yuuji gathers you into his arms, kissing you fiercely (it tastes like some sort of perverse, seductive joy, rosewater mixed with ashes). He chuckles into your mouth when you push your tongue into his, retribution for your first kiss many weeks ago. It’s deliciously gratifying.

If Yuuji is right, and love is just a mosaic of bad decisions and desire-- maybe you’re okay with that. Maybe this is all I really need, you think, watching Yuuji from the corner of your eye on the drive home. Yellow street lights cast irregular shadows on his angular features, lending him an otherworldly sort of beauty.

“What is it?” he asks, without taking his eyes off the road. One of his hands inches up your inner thigh, giving it a quick squeeze before retreating to the responsibility of the steering wheel.

You hesitate, just for a second. An unseen force constricts around your throat; you banish it with a hard swallow. “I love you.”

One second passes. Then two.

He says nothing the rest of the ride home, and you sit in mortified silence, watching traffic blur by with glassy eyes. You must’ve misread this whole thing. You’re just a fling Yuuji plans on discarding whenever he grows tired… your mouth goes dry with regret.

When you pull up in front of your house, he walks you to your front door. You can hardly stand to look him in the eye.

“Well, thanks for today,” you say, examining your shoelaces with false interest. “I had a lot of--”

“I love you, too.”

Startled, you look up. “I- what?”

“I said,” he says, stepping close, putting a hand beneath your chin to tilt it upwards. Your body is eclipsed by his larger one, and you’re overwhelmed with the sudden urge to hide from his penetrating gaze. “I love you, too.”

A beat of silence.

“Oh,” you breathe, and, suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you fervently— but this time, it’s chaste, it’s… loving (and it tastes like honeyed laughter). Only for a second though.

Then his hands are on your waist, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises; he’s aflame with a hotblooded passion-- your body is his Holy Grail and your mouth is its rim. He leads you into the hallway, fumbling to close the door behind him. You gasp when he pushes you up against the wall and harshly sucks at the sensitive skin beneath your jaw, your nails digging into his back through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles, painting your neck with a line of ardent kisses, trailing from right below your ear to right above your collarbone. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

There’s something a little too tender in the way he caresses your face the next morning to wake you after he’s slipped his clothes back on, in the way he smiles softly at your bleary eyed confusion, in the way he holds you in his embrace a fraction of a second longer than you hold him in yours before saying goodbye.

Terushima Yuuji may play the part of a reckless delinquent, but he’s not your average troublemaker. There’s something inscrutable behind his gaze, even as he sprays obscene graffiti on stop signs and shoplifts alcohol from the neighborhood drugstore, a walking cliche of hoodlum culture.

There’s something a little too careful about the boy who claims to be careless.

Yuuji is still fun, of course. He takes immense pride in being fun. He invites you to one of his friends’ gigs, some sort of grunge-esque affair with a heavily pulsating bass line and a preponderance of cheap liquor in red plastic cups. The drummer winks at you during one of the songs-- later Yuuji slugs him in the jaw, taking a few hits in the process, and makes a show of kissing you sloppily while the poor drummer nurses his rapidly forming bruise with a pack of frozen peas. (The kiss, of course, tastes like blood and pride.)

He teaches you how to use a switchblade-- “Just in case,” he says, wrapping his hand around yours in an effort to show you the proper grip. In exactly what situation you’d be forced to use a switchblade remains unclear, but when you ask he just laughs and shrugs, spinning the knife in between his slender fingers. “You never know.”

(He tells you a story of a fist fight years ago and lifts his shirt to point out a pale, faded scar-- the other guy brought a knife concealed in his sleeve. You then agree it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.)

The two of you trespass on the regular, scaling fences and picking locks to dip your feet in private pools, to run barefoot on the soft grass of a golf course late at night, to explore taped off tunnels and underpasses.

All of it is fun, all of it depicts your relationship as something accidental, something reckless, the convergence of two beings as coincidental as the convergence of the two cells that provoked the Big Bang.

But your intimate moments, the faintest imprints in between the lines, tell a different story. One onlookers don’t see.

They don’t see how Yuuji places a hand on the small of your back to guide you over a crosswalk, or how he pours a coffee and carefully blows on it before bringing it to you. They don’t see how he laughs when you laugh and smiles when you smile.

They don’t hear what he whispers to you under the sheets-- sweet nothings that would make Cupid himself blush-- as he touches you slowly, purposefully, following your curves deliberately as a sculptor molding clay.

They don’t feel his kisses, delicately placed on your lips, your neck, your stomach and thighs. They don’t feel his eyelashes fluttering on your cheek as he allows himself to rest with you in his most vulnerable state.

It’s during these moments that deep secrets are so shyly exchanged in the sleepy haze of late nights and early mornings. He bares his soul to you in all its imperfection (you suspect you are the only one to have ever seen it in this state). He shatters himself bit by bit like the vases you splintered so long ago, offering you the fragments so you can gradually piece together the entire portrait.

“You know how I told you my dad taught me how to fight?” he asks one of these times. Your head is in his lap as he strokes your hair ever-so-lightly. You nod, looking up into those sweet brown eyes-- they look sad today. “That’s only half true. He didn’t teach me, but I had to learn because of him.”

You take his hand and brush your lips over his knuckles, humming softly, and he takes this small act of comfort and stores it away like he always does.

I’m sorry.

“I’m scared of trying to be someone different than I am now, but I want to be. I wish I could be.”

You can.

“I’m sorry for getting you into so much trouble these days.”

Don’t be.

“I think we should run away, just you and me. We could make it, you know.”

I know.

Of course, all good things come to an end. You know that.

You just aren’t anticipating something so good to end so soon-- as suddenly as Terushima Yuuji becomes yours, he disappears.

One morning, he’s sleeping in the bed next to you, and the next he’s gone without a trace. Literally. He leaves behind no extra t-shirts, no stray sock or phone charger, no note. You pad down the hall, ducking your head into each room.

“Yuuji?” you call. “Is this some sort of joke?”

It’s not.

You call his phone and reach his voicemail. Hey, this is Terushima. Not available right now, probably busy doing somethin’ stupid or taking a piss. Leave a message if you want.

The sound of his voice grows more and more painful to hear over the next six months. At first, you call every day, then every week, then every month. At month six, you’ve stopped calling at all. If he wanted to answer, he would. You don’t even know why you’ve kept it up so long when he obviously left for a reason.

So, you pick up the pieces of your broken heart and cobble them together again. It’s not a graceful recovery, but it’s a recovery, and that’s what matters. The gaping hole he left is gradually filled by your family, your friends-- you don’t go on a single date, but that’s okay. (You’re just not ready. You tell yourself that you will be, someday.)

Soon, you’re whole again. As you discover, there are ways to find yourself other than falling dangerously in love with a dangerous boy.

You run into him one day, eight or so months after his disappearance. You’re filling your car at a gas station, and at the park across the street, he’s sitting next to a girl you don’t recognize. She laughs at all his jokes and sips a can of Monster he offers her. As if he can feel your stare, Yuuji glances over and catches your eye. He jogs across the street, dodging traffic, and you two exchange tentative pleasantries before the conversation comes to an uneasy rest on the taboo-- why he left.

It wasn’t because of you, it turns out. At least, not really. You were just the catalyst.

“I was the problem,” Yuuji says, laughing, though the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You remember how I once told you I thought love was making your bad decisions with someone by your side?”

You nod, and the wound has scabbed over enough for you to remember it lightly, with a slight curve of the lips.

“You showed me that wasn’t true.” He tugs on the collar of his t-shirt absentmindedly, not quite meeting your gaze. “I started wanting to make good decisions instead. And that just wasn’t me. Love isn’t for me.”

“It could’ve been,” you say simply. He stares at you, momentarily unable to form a response. Then he laughs it off, a sound you used to adore that now sounds harsh and grating.

“Maybe someday,” he says, but his expression tells you otherwise. It tells you how scared he is of ever being that person.

The thing about love is that it gives you something to lose. It gives you a reason to make good decisions. It gives you something to fear for.

As he turns to leave, Yuuji freezes in his tracks. He throws a look over his shoulder. “Just for the record-- it hurt. Leaving. I did love you.”

You smile. It’s a genuine smile, but it’s sad, too. “I know.”

And the thing about fear is that some people can’t bear it well enough to let themselves love someone.

You watch his retreating back for a brief moment before climbing into your car. It’s not until you’re halfway home that you realize you’re crying. Tears roll down your cheeks into your lap, staining your jeans.

You hope he comes to love that new girl, the one he’s sharing a Monster with. You hope she loves him back with all her heart. You hope she spends hours and hours picking through his pieces and reassembling him from the bottom up. You hope she comes to find that his kisses taste like tobacco and novelty, like ink and enigma, like rosewater and ashes and joy. You hope that, to her, those kisses never taste like regret.

You hope that this time, he’s scared. But not so scared he can’t let himself stay.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #hq terushima #terushima #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #terushima yuuji x reader

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