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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year

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Returned At Last Part 2

Pairing: Wolf x Reader

Word Count: 4647

Summary: Wolf comes for you. Nothing can step in the way of that beast when he's enraged. Someone took his ooman. He's getting them back, no matter the pauking cost. Not one can or will stop him. Blood will cover him.

Author Note: Oh yes, I wrote even more this. I don't know what possessed me to do this but oh well. Here we are, going further down the whole, no point of return.

I TOTALLY DIDNT FORGET TO TAG YOU, @kissmyaft

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1

Taste of metal hit your tongue. A raging headache is what you’re forced to awaken with. The light above buzzed with a low frequency, further growing the pain inside of your head. A groan sounded in the extremely limited space given to you, echoing back at your naked, bruised, malnourished body. Your form shivered at a cold drift blowing over you. Goosebumps growing moments afterwards. You tried to pull all of your limps closer, in an attempt to hold in any heat. It did nothing to help this situation.

Everything ached. It’s been like this for what felt like days. The dirty, tiny, dingy cell they threw in after every time they demanded information from you didn’t have a window. The artificial light above was never turned off. Always on. Always singing its horrible pitch. It was either that or listen to your own heartbeat thunder in your ears.

Inside of your mind, you cursed to every and any god that would listen. Whoever let this happen, you hoped they had their good laugh at your misery.

Time was hard to tell in here. Your sleep schedule had been thrown off completely. Sometimes when they don’t get what they want, they beat you to an inch of your life. After resisting, you’ve experienced that four times. Bones broken, organs bleeding, vision blurry. The whole nine yards. Most of the time, they use a knife or gun to threaten you.

A good quarter of their questions you only the answer to. You’ve been to Yautja Prime, kept safe by Wolf as he strutted around his home world with you at his side. You’ve also been to a mothership as well. Wolf is the best out there, many call for his attention and aid. They question your relationship with the alien. They never once say his name, confirming they don’t know it. It’s only ‘alien’, ‘monster’, or -your least favorite – ‘owner’. They act like he owns you. You didn’t know if that hurt you or mad your blood boil.

Other questions, you didn’t dare even make a peep about. It was along the lines of relationship with Wolf. But, it was about your sex life with him. When you ducked your head with a blush covering your cheeks, that probably confirmed their suspicion. Wolf fucks you. Those in the room had made their disgust and horror known to you. As much as you should’ve, you didn’t feel a drop of shame. Wolf is the best partner you’ve ever had, in bed and on the streets.

More inquires were talking about the inner life of the Yautja. They asked all the wrong questions to you, a mere humans that was lucky to walk among them. How were you supposed to know about their military? The Yautja probably didn’t even have one. You had no clue about the numbers. They have a planet, what does that tell you? Well, you didn’t say that. You kept your trap close, thinking constantly about Wolf. You wouldn’t give up on him. You wouldn’t spill his secretes to save your own skin.

Guess what, he would do the same for you. To be honest, he would have the people torturing him dead within moments. If one lifts a weapon to him, it’s game over.

Fuck, you missed him so much. A large part of you hoped he was searching for you. Was he looking high and low for you? Was he going without sleep just to find you? Was he slaving away his body to capture any data about you? You could only hope.

Dread creeped like a silent killer within your heart. Whispers crawled to your ears, speaking in harsh, horrible voices. One spoke, telling you he wasn’t. That he was happy to be rid of you. You are dead weight to him, dragging him down. You’re nothing compared to him. You offer nothing to him. He’s probably happy to have you gone.

A whine scratched at your dry throat. You tried to swallow any of saliva in your mouth, all that was there was cotton. At the same time, your empty stomach rumbled its call, forcing you to curl in on yourself. Your arms wrapped around your middle.

Over the time you’ve been locked in here, the soldiers have only given you scrapes of bread. Every few feedings, as rare as though are already, they gave you enough water to just fill your mouth. It was enough to clear a fraction of the cotton in your mouth. It never satisfied you. It left you wanting more, hungry and thirsty for more. You knew it was part of their plan to get you to crack, spill the secrets they wanted to know.

With a hoarse groan, you rolled over to your other side. An attempt to ease the pain growing on that side of your body. The concrete was cold and unforgiving. You bit at your bottom lip to prevent any noises. Their camera watched your every move, recording it. The person who leads this operation was probably hoping you whisper a confession. You kept yourself silent in the artificial light.

The fight had long left you, slaughtered out of your body in harsh hits and threatening cuts. All you could muster was to lie on the floor, by your lonesome, with no hope of rescue. Wolf… His name hurt your throat, playing a broken record player. You wanted him here with you.

Hands harshly pulled you to your knees, yet you had to full comprehend what was occurring. A film blurred your vision, unable to focus on whoever was touching you. You hissed when the limbs pulled at your aching injuries.

Pain exploded across your face. It took you a long moment to realize what even happened. Fresh blood dripped down your chin, splattering against the unforgiving ground. “Shut the fuck up, twat,” a voice spat harshly at you. He, a soldier, had hit you on the head. Why does it have to be your head?

He jabbed the barrel of a gun into your bruised side. This time, you bit down on your tongue, eyes squeezed shut. That soldier wasn’t going to get a sound out of you. That you’ve learned your lesson. He hauled you to your feet and began to drag you half-haphazardly out of the cell. You let him, head hung low and shoulders sagging.

Unshed tears began to grow as much as you tried to fight it. You couldn’t stop them from dribbling down your dirty cheeks. Yet, your sobs were stopped before they sounded in the short hallway.

At the end, was an elevator that would take you two floors up. Then, the soldier with his gun in your side would continue to drag four doors down on the left. The door would open and you would be shoved inside. You didn’t have time to look at the surrounding four walls. Nothing changed, it was always the same, dingy walls.

The light had a horrible flicker that would drive you insane the longer they kept you in here. The concrete ground still dug into your naked flesh as you were forced inside. With a grunt, you rolled onto your back, eyes still closed. It was the same thing over and over and ov-

Breathing. Ragged breathing – it sound like they were trying to be quiet. Immediately, you shot up into a sitting position, head swirling to the direction. The room wasn’t large yet the light wasn’t bright enough to fully expose whoever crept in the corner. Whatever. Your slightly blurry vision didn’t help you either. All you could make out a dark, blurry figure crouched, hiding in the corner. It was something big though. Even if they tucked themselves away, it took up a large portion of the area.

For once, you didn’t make a sound. All you did was kept both eyes on it, observing it, listening to it. The thing didn’t move from its simple spot. You have expected it to lung out when the light turned off longer than it usually did. When the light flicker back to life, it still was there with it’s broken breathing. It was injured, that much you could tell from just the sounds it made.

What caught your attention was a neon green substance leaking from various wounds along its body. You quietly gasp before scrambling to crawl away. Right off the bat, you knew this a Yautja from that alone. Second, this wasn’t your Yautja. Wolf wasn’t thickly corded as this one. The color was completely off.

Its eyes were locked onto your form as you backed yourself into a corner. Stupid thing to do but what else could you do? If it attacked you… you would be completely defenseless. What a way to die.

That got you thinking though. If it killed you, this misery would end. No more shocks, cuts, or being naked in this frigid place. You would be free.

Wolf would never see you alive again though. You curled up into a ball, arms wrapped around your legs and face buried into your knees. More unshed tears prickled the corner of your eyes but you didn’t let them fall. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what they wanted from you in this situation.

The fact they have a Yautja locked up here though. Is that how they found Wolf’s ship? Whoever these people are, they must’ve had access to a Yautja’s technology to be able to know where the ship was. They had to gotten it from this one locked up with you.

Your eyes suddenly narrowed on the alien. It was his fault you were here, stuck so far underneath ground, butt naked and hurt. It was his fault you weren’t in bed with Wolf, with his arms wrapped around you. It was his fault you were alone and in pain. It was his fault.

A boiling rage surged to life in your slowly moving veins. But, you didn’t have the strength in your legs to stand up. It was a miracle you were able to scamper away from him. Adrenaline can be a useful friend in situations like this. You also knew there was no way to even hurt the lumbering giant. He’s a Yautja. Injured or not, he’s still deadly. Far more than you are, even in perfect condition. Instead, you kept snug in your own corner, eyes watching him.

Time passed at an unknown pace. You stayed glued far away from him, arms still holding your knees. You were still confused on what these people wanted from you. Why have they changed their tactic? It was working so perfectly… Were they just trying to get you killed without the blood being on their hands? It just didn’t make any sense.

At the exact moment you were being to get annoyed at the lack of action, the door opened. Since the Yautja had sort of forced you in this position, you were behind the newly opened door. The camera already alerted to where you were at all times though.

Whoever was there stepped inside with the two of you and quietly closed the door. You choked on spit, eyes widening and heart skipping a beat. Curses were racing around your head. This was person that always handled your interrogation. He wore his normal gear, the same as always. It had been cleaned of the blood his forced from your body yesterday.

When he pivoted his body to face yours hiding in the corner, you saw through the dim light a smirk. It crinkled the edge of his eye. Dickwad – a name you’ve picked out for him – took a single step towards you. You flinched away from him, somehow curling more in on yourself. It injured your leftover pride the moment afterwards. You didn’t blame yourself for the reaction though.

Something crossed your mind. Dickwad freely walked into the room, back to the Yautja, barely sparring him a glance. Why didn’t he fear the deadly creature on the other side, watching this interaction? None of his weapon would save from the Yautja if he lunged at him. Why wasn’t he scared? Like he should be. Like you are.

It’s like he read your mind. That crinkle never left his right eye. Dickwad nonchalantly glanced behind him, keeping his exposed back to the alien. “Oh, don’t worry about that thing. It can’t hurt you. Poor thing is a little… tied up.” Though you’ve never met this alien before or yet to learn his name, you glared at the dickwad for a just second.

“But don’t worry, I have a fun little button that can release it. Don’t forget that if you misbehave. Now… why don’t we start off from yesterday?”

A pool of blood surrounded you, dark red. Pains stabbed your nerves, never ending. Nausea washed over you, mouth watering with thick saliva. When bile rose in the back of your throat, it burned before you were barely able to swallow it. All it was just stomach acid and more blood. You laid on the cold, frozen concrete, tears and sobs long dried up. Both of your arms were wrapped around your fragile, now more injured body. You didn’t know how much longer you could survive in this pit of hell.

Chains rustling had your head snapping painfully in the direction. It was the Yautja. The chains that encased his body reflected off the light as he moved his position. Yet, he didn’t settle. He kept shifting, rattling the metal against each other. What was his deal?

The sounds frustrated Dickwad, who was using a rag to clean off his knife’s blade. He spun his head to glare at him. “Stop moving, you lumbering ogre. I can show you again why that’s a bad thing,” Dickwad spat and pointed the newly cleaned weapon at the Yautja. Dumb ass, pointing a weapon at him. It’s an open invitation to get yourself killed.

“Why don’t you taunt him when he’s not chained up?” you snarked at him from your spot on the ground. He’s already done his worse to you. Why not add onto it? Why not hurt you some more? Maybe it’ll be enough to finally kill you. The least he could do for you.

Dickwad whipped his head towards you then smirked down at you. “One thing that separates the rookies from the experts. I have that thing chained because I know how deadly it can be.” Then, he lifted a hand to stroke at his limited beard. “Maybe you should learn your lesson, rookie.” You just stared up at him, too tired to think on what he’s trying to get you to understand.

This, he noticed and huffed with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, since you’re such an imbecile.” A device was pulled from a pocket and held in front of you. “I press button. Chains go bye-bye. Alien kills you. There, understood?” Death. Finally. A calling you’ve been making since the third day locked away in your cell. The damn man thought that was something you didn’t want. Who is the imbecile now?

Your eyes rolled widely. He growled before calming himself. “It won’t matter. You are no longer of use. You haven’t gi-“

The only entryway was blown off of its hinges, slamming into the wall on the other side. Your whole body jerked, only a couple feet from the door. A harsh breeze of air slapped you in the face. The person before you yelped and skidded forward, barely a hair’s width from it. He twisted around, both hands filled with a taser and knife.

From your spot, you glanced at the discarded door close by. It hadn’t been blasted off of by explosives. No. The middle was bent with a print of a foot. Someone had kicked it of its hinges. You felt your heart drop. What in the hell could’ve done that?

That question was swiftly answered. A thundering form swept into the room. A deadly hand coming out and wrapped around Dickwad’s throat. Claws didn’t hesitate to pierce his precious, soft skin. Through the limited light, you saw small rivers of blood run down his skin.

Then, it finally struck you. That arm, the claws, the stance, the armor. You recognize who this was. Even with a dried throat, you cried out in relief, a hand reaching out towards your boyfriend.

He was your angel, knight in shining armor. He came for you. He’s come to save you from this place. He’s taking you away, back into his arms.

Wolf’s eyes snapped to your form on the ground, red staining your plush skin. The grip on the ooman’s throat tightened, on the verge of snapping it within his grasp. The least he deserved from the horrid smell coming from him. His mind already connected the dots of all the clues given to him. This creature injured you, hurt you. You were wounded because of this pyode-amedha. It was going to pay for its heavy, detrimental mistake.

At the same time, you were hurt. You were bleeding, heavy by the looks of it. You didn’t have time for him to enact the revenge he desperately wanted to. As much as it pained himself to do this, Wolf crushed the ooman’s throat, effectively ending its life. It deserved far more than that but you were his priority from the beginning.

The now lifeless body of Dickwad was dropped to the ground you laid upon. With one long stride, Wolf knelt next to you, hands tentatively touching your dirty, bruised skin. A burning rage boiled in his veins at the sight of you. It ached his old heart at the scene before him. The way you looked up at him, unshed tears threatening to fall. The swirling of emotions that filled the pools of your eyes.

Relief flooded yours whole form as he accessed the situation at hand. He was here. You lifted a shaky hand and touched the cheek of his cold, metal biomask. Wolf paused what he was doing. He had to get you out of here, now. If you were to survive without lasting injuries.

With gentleness you didn’t know he possessed, Wolf scooped his arms underneath you and pulled you flush with his chest. In the Yautja’s mind, he believed this is where you needed to be at all times now. You will never leave his sight again. Never again. You will be at his side, glued to him if he has to. He can get a leash, attach it to his belt. You are his.

Pain flared to flames at the movement. You groaned, hands grasped blinding at his chest, feeling the bitter cold of his armor. “You cold,” you whined to him. The cold helped you stay awake though, shocking you further awake.

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Wolf might have brought himself to laugh. Instead, his heart squeezed tightly in his chest at your words. He needed to get you out here now.

His sturdy legs lifted the two of you without faltering. When he turned to leave this retched place, he forced to stop at the cry that sounded from your sore throat. His head snapped down to ensure it wasn’t him causing any more pain. You were reaching over his shoulder, wiggling within his hold. It took a hunter’s skill not to let you drop or further injure yourself.

He believed this to be a moment of hallucination. The blood that coated his arms, hands, and chest was his excuse. Yet, when Wolf tried to leave again, you tugged at one of his sensitive tresses. Wolf finally listened to you and followed where your hand was pointing.

In the farthest corner, a form lurked. At a quick glance, it was encased with chains, bounding it there. That’s when Wolf noticed the smell that was hidden underneath the others that drenched it. A Yautja. There was another Yautja. Wolf snarled and tucked you away from the opposing Yautja.

By Paya’s name, what he would’ve done to that ooman for further endangering with one of his kind. He, once more, turned to leave, this time you screamed out with your frustration. It hurt, eyes watering with tears but it got the point across. “Release ‘im,” you demanded of Wolf. You weren’t about to leave the unnamed Yautja to be trapped here. You didn’t know how long he’s been here but no one deserved that.

Wolf was taken back at this. “You want me to free him?” he reiterated, head cocking with a centimeter to the side. With the state of your throat, you didn’t dare speak again. A nod answer his question for him. “Why?” It came out before he could stop it. It was stupid. He didn’t want you further worsen your throat. “Fine.” Is all you got out of him.

If that is what will make you content, so be it. Wolf cautiously entered the unknown Yautja’s space, eyes carefully watching him. He noticed the blood dripping from him as he stopped in front of him. Now, Wolf was able to get a better look at him. This was a young blood, barely blooded by the looks of it. “What’s your name, pup?” he questioned with a grumbly voice, in Yautja and shifted your body to sit upright against him. Your legs swaddle his thin waist the best they could. Your head rested on his shoulder, eyes barely keeping open.

The unnamed Yautja has his eyes locked onto Wolf, body straining against his restraints. “Scar,” is all the elder got from him. Wolf could read the newly named Scar like an open book. He was exhausted, in pain, and struggling to breath. His young body was covered in wounds that would likely scar.

“If you hurt my ooman after I release you, there’s no place in the universe you can hide from me.” Scar’s eyes widened at the threat. If you had more thought process than currently, you would’ve whacked Wolf for that. Scar hadn’t hurt you, he wasn’t a threat.

Scar dipped his head, submissively for a couple of long seconds. “Understood, elder.” Wolf smirked underneath his biomask. The pup has manners, something that seemed to be slipping lately.

With that settled, Wolf used his whip to break the chains that held up Scar. The poor Yautja dropped like dead weight to the ground. He grunted at the sudden jarring of his injuries before shuffling to his hands and knees. “Thank you, elder.”

When Wolf took a breath in to hum at him, you whined within his hold. Immediately, Wolf’s entire focus returned to you. Then, he marched out of the room, leaving behind the young blood. Wolf gave him the opportunity to escape, it was on him to do so. Behind him, Scar scrambled after them. Smart. But the youngster stayed a few paces from him. Once more, smart.

At that point, the relief of freedom on your tongue and the exhaustion weighing you down, you promptly passed out. A sorrowful smile stuck to your face as you slept against the Yautja.

Your body suddenly shifted within his grasp, you almost falling back. This caused him to fret, both arms surrounding your frail body. Wolf maneuvered you into a better position before resuming his rescue, rage fueling him along the way.

Safety. Warm. Tired. Pain. Those were the first things you felt when you were drawn from your heavy sleep. The desperate need to pee forcing you awake. When you went to move, you gasped at the shock of agony that ran up your side. Something blazing touched your shoulder, gentle, it held you there, forcing you still. “Stay. Don’t move, ooman.” In return, you whined as an answer.

The voice released a grunt, hand leaving your body. The spot now feeling much colder than what you’re used to. You hoarsely cried out, hand reaching for them to return. It had brought comfort to you, soothing away those pestering thoughts and fears. They plagued your mind from the moment you woke up. “Still,” the voice grounded out, firmer this time; no hints of harshness though.

“Gotta pee,” you explained, tone begging for you to be let up. With your eyes still closed, the unknown figure huffed a sigh before gingerly scooping your body up. The familiar pelts that you were laid upon left the comfort of your skin. Pelts. Warm body. Strong arms. Grumbly, grumpy sounds. You tiredly smiled as his name entered your mind like molasses. “Wolf.” Your voice whined to him. A hand shakily reaching up to touch him.

He was here. He was holding you. He had saved you. You were safe from harm.

At the sound of his name on your tongue, he tightened his hold just a hair. You’ll never hear or come to know but his heart ached at the sound. The way his body twinged after all that had occurred yesterday… Wolf refused to let himself rest though. You needed to be cared for. The wounds constantly checked for infections. This was the first time you had awoken in the last twenty hours. Any longer, and he would’ve believed he had lost you.

Wolf’s never felt this way. Not once in his hundreds of years alive. To be honest, he felt fear at that and at you being captured. His anger over took his body first. Now though, since the storm had calmed with the two of you far from your home planet, he felt terror in his veins. Your voice on the comm. Channel begging for him, not wanting to die.

Despite the situation he had been in when he first heard your call, he was quick to answer, questioning what was happening. Yet, it was like you couldn’t hear him. It was a one-sided call. To his knowledge there wasn’t a way to block his side of the comm. on the console. Something had blocked him.

You shifted within his hold, whimpering again. He’s already put you in the expansive tub he has, medicine mixed within the water. If he were to do it again, it might overwhelm your body and cause damage. Instead, he carried you to the connected bath room and let you relieve yourself. He saw the way you winced as you did.

Fluids. He hadn’t been able to get you any for the last twenty hours. You needed them now, with food. Your body looked malnourished, ribs showing. All the muscle you had gained from your time with him was almost gone. But that was last thing on his mind. First, your health.

He had tried to transfer you back to the bed. Yet, even with weakened arms, you refused to release your hold on the older Yautja. His body heat swaddling you better than any blanket could. His body a protective shield from the horrors of the world you’ve seen lately. Nothing could take you away from him right now, not even him. “Don’t le-ea-ve me,” your voice cracked. If your eyes could, tears would be dribbling down your face.

Something dangerous almost snapped deep within the Yautja. If you weren’t in the state they had put you in, he would’ve taken his sweet pauking time killing those disgusting pyode-amedha. Each one. Slowly dragging out their death. You were his top priority though; get you to safety.

Over the course of fifteen minutes, Wolf prepared three large cups of fresh, clean water and a plate of soft food. The bruises on your jaw told him to do so. Then, the lumbering giant balanced everything with his grasp towards the bedroom. That place would become your sanctuary for however long it took for you heal. Wolf would be forever there, at your side, every step of the way. You were no longer allowed to leave his sights, Wolf’s orders.

#yautja x you #yautja #yautja x reader #predator x reader #x reader #predator x human #predator x you #alien vs predator #predator

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darkwingsnark · 1 year

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‘So what if Mario died?’

A Bowsario AU idea.

Step 1.) kill the man. Pick your poison, could be as simple as Mario dying during a more routine kidnapping or even one of the more random and evil villains. Point is, at the end of the day, you need a body-- so no King Boo trapping him in paintings just to rip it up.

Step 2.) Bowser can’t let it go. He doesn’t exactly know why, his own feelings mixed up with emptiness and anger from Mario having the gull to DIE. Real rude, man. Well Bowser isn’t going to just sit there and let the man be dead. It isn’t in the cards, at least not the ones he’s playing with-- Bowser always stacking things in his favor. So he waits for some time after the funeral so as to not having witnesses as he sends peeps off to steal a whole Mario. Just snatched him from the ground-- free dead man.

Step 3.) Resurrection. You’ve heard of Dry Bones and Dry Bowser, now lets see how you deal with Dry Mario. That’s right, Bowser has Kamek do some necromancy. Mario wakes in a gasp-- despite not having lungs-- not having memories of his death. He probably thinks it’s still mid adventure. He realizes he’s in Bowser’s castle, and of course he’s just going to break out. No kidnapping good ol’ Mario. Not today!

Step 4.) Mario fights his way out only to be confronted by Bowser. Bowser is relieved to see him alive and moving. He’s missed him far more than he realized. Of course, this jubilation is kind of put on hold as Mario goes on a whole spiel about how Bowser can’t kidnap him. He has things to do! He was in the middle of a mission! It is then Bowser realizes Mario doesn’t KNOW. Bowser tries to calmly explain to him that he died. He brought him back. Mario doesn’t believe him because, why would he? Bowser tries to convince him while they fight through the castle, only for one point Bowser finds a reflective object or rips a mirror off a wall to show him. Mario stop mid-attack to look at himself in horror.

Step 5.) Bowser... what have you done? It’s a lot, maybe too much to the point Mario’s unable to keep himself together as he literally falls apart. It is later that Mario wakes up again, this time in a different room altogether. It’s a room with accommodations like bed, separate bathroom, closet, bookshelf. And so on. Mario remembers what happened before fading to black, and looks at his arms. In shock he goes to the bathroom and looks in the mirror to take himself in. What he sees is this:

He is alone as he tries to do his best to evaluate the situation. First thing he needs to somewhat feel like himself. He is immensely relieved when he sees the closet has his trademark outfit-- down to the gloves, shoes, and even a hat. Mario gets dressed just to see less of himself, as well as the fact he feels naked. I mean, the guy is all bones, not even skin to make him naked. But it’s the principle of it! Step 6.) At some point he is visited by Bowser and gets more information out of him. He finds out what happened to him, how long he’s been dead. His instinct is to go back to Luigi, to make sure he’s okay. But Bowser and Kamek are able to convince him that woah woah woah... Green Stache? He was hurt the most from all of this, maybe don’t go over there and traumatize the guy more? It’s actually sound logic, and that surprises Mario. Enough that he’s able to listen out what Bowser’s plan is. They brought him back from the dead, sure easy enough. They do it all the time. But they’ve never turned people back into full on flesh people before. But there are theories that it can be done. They’re working on trying to restore him fully so that everything can go back to normal.

Mario essentially ends up staying with Bowser as they’re trying to figure things out. He at least makes Bowser promise to have people watch Luigi so that he doesn’t get worse. And to keep an eye on the Mushroom Kingdom in general. But meanwhile it’s Mario just... hanging. Trying to make himself useful, asking to go on mission to find herbs and stuff that Kamek needs to restore him. Lots of bonding with Bowser. And through it Mario finally asks ‘why did you do all of this?’ Only for Bowser to tell him ‘because the thought of having to act like things were normal without you being around scared me’. Mario learns just how important they are to each other’s lives, and during the journey/event fall in love.

#super mario bros #bowsario #mario mario #bowser #dry mario au #fanfiction #long post #skeleton tw #death mention tw #necromancy tw

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mariana-oconnor · 8 months

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The Veiled Lodger pt 1

Sorry I'm late to this one. Last night I had to bake a cake and it went wrong and then I had to try to rescue it and that went wrong so I had to try and rescue it in a different way and by that time it was past my bedtime and I am old and need sleep. Also, don't trust recipes. They lie.

Not that you really needed to know any of that, but yeah, blame the cake.

ANYWAY, back to the actual purpose for me gathering you all here today.

Which I assume is going to involve a lodger who wears a veil, but don't quote me on that.

When one considers that Mr. Sherlock Holmes was in active practice for twenty-three years, and that during seventeen of these I was allowed to co-operate with him and to keep notes of his doings

Alright, I assume we cut out the years when he was 'dead'... They started working together in 1881, so he stopped work in 1900? (was he gone two years or three, I forget. 1900/1901). That's not a particularly long career. Must be nice to be able to retire that early and still have enough money to have Watson as a kept man.

I don't know why I am bothering to try and work this out... time means nothing here.

I may say that the writers of agonized letters, who beg that the honour of their families or the reputation of famous forbears may not be touched, have nothing to fear. The discretion and high sense of professional honour which have always distinguished my friend are still at work in the choice of these memoirs, and no confidence will be abused.

Really, Watson, we've had this talk before. Some of your cases can't be difficult to work out for people who are connected to them, even if you change the names.

I deprecate, however, in the strongest way the attempts which have been made lately to get at and to destroy these papers. The source of these outrages is known, and if they are repeated I have Mr. Holmes's authority for saying that the whole story concerning the politician, the lighthouse and the trained cormorant will be given to the public.

...well, I for one hope that whoever that is tries again. I want to know what that cormorant was trained to do. And why it's so scandalous. But it's fun to see a direct threat in here.

But the most terrible human tragedies were often involved in these cases which brought him the fewest personal opportunities, and it is one of these which I now desire to record.

So this is going to be tragic and Holmes isn't going to do a lot. Got it.

And we've finally left 1895 to jump to 1896.

When I arrived, I found him seated in a smoke-laden atmosphere, with an elderly, motherly woman of the buxom landlady type in the corresponding chair in front of him.

The what type? Elderly, motherly, and buxom. Does he mean landlady as in at a pub? I assume not because this is about a lodger. But still, this entire description is giving massive Nanny Ogg vibes. I hope she's as cool as Nanny Ogg.

"Mrs. Merrilow does not object to tobacco, Watson, if you wish to indulge your filthy habits."

Did you have to phrase it like that, Holmes. I mean, you're not wrong, but now I've thought of Nanny Ogg my brain is primed for a certain amount of innuendo.

"You say that Mrs. Ronder has been your lodger for seven years and that you have only once seen her face." "And I wish to God I had not!" said Mrs. Merrilow. "It was, I understand, terribly mutilated."

Rude. Okay. Nowhere near as cool as Gytha Ogg.

"Our milkman got a glimpse of her once peeping out of the upper window, and he dropped his tin and the milk all over the front garden."

I mean, looking up and seeing a face staring at you through a window when you don't know anyone's there is a classic horror movie jump scare. Maybe he just dropped his milk because he didn't realise he was being watched, not because of her face. Or maybe just everyone in this story is terrible.

"No, sir, but she gave hard cash, and plenty of it. A quarter's rent right down on the table in advance and no arguing about terms. In these times a poor woman like me can't afford to turn down a chance like that."

Oh no, the classic 'here, have so much money you won't question anything' ploy. Just this time from a woman. Little bit sus. Where did that money come from? I'd ask who she's hiding from, but at this point it might as well be everyone given how rude Mrs Merrilow is being about her face.

"Her health, Mr. Holmes. She seems to be wasting away. And there's something terrible on her mind. 'Murder!' she cries. 'Murder!' And once I heard her, 'You cruel beast! You monster!' she cried."

If the scarring on her face is as extensive as indicated, then some nightmares really are to be expected. I doubt she came about it in a way that wasn't traumatic.

Our visitor had no sooner waddled out of the room—no other verb can describe Mrs. Merrilow's method of progression.

Really Watson? No other word? She, at least, is going to know who you're talking about and she clearly reads your stories because that's why she turned up in Baker Street. You could absolutely have used another word.

...unless she dies over the course of this story. In which case I guess you can say whatever you want and she'll never know.

"Perhaps you would care to read the papers?" "Could you not give me the points?"

Lol. Watson does not want to go through all the reading right now, Holmes.

"They had among their exhibits a very fine North African lion. Sahara King was its name, and it was the habit, both of Ronder and his wife, to give exhibitions inside its cage."

Oh no. Poor lion. I kind of hope it got out and attacked them. Just a little bit. But then that wouldn't explain the 'murder' bit.

"It was deposed at the inquest that there had been some signs that the lion was dangerous, but, as usual, familiarity begat contempt, and no notice was taken of the fact."

The imprisoned wild animal was dangerous? What? No way!

I fully support this lion in whatever it chooses to do about this.

"Ronder lay, with the back of his head crushed in and deep claw-marks across his scalp, some ten yards from the cage, which was open. Close to the door of the cage lay Mrs. Ronder, upon her back, with the creature squatting and snarling above her".

The lion is innocent in all of this. It's been framed. Even if it did do a bit of mauling, it's still innocent. And I bet it was killed for it.

"Look at it from the lion's point of view."

Oh, believe me, I am.

"Well, if his skull was smashed in you would hardly expect to hear from him again."

Fair point, Holmes, fair point.

A third person, then. Which would explain the 'murder' and the 'coward' if they ran away and left her to be mauled.

"And why should it attack them savagely when it was in the habit of playing with them, and doing tricks with them inside the cage?"

You literally just said it had previously shown signs of being dangerous, Holmes.

"Edmunds told me that in his cups he was horrible. A huge bully of a man, he cursed and slashed at everyone who came in his way. I expect those cries about a monster, of which our visitor has spoken, were nocturnal reminiscences of the dear departed."

Not feeling a lot of sympathy for anyone involved in this disaster. Although it sucks that Mrs Ronder is now being treated like shit because of her scars. It's not like anyone knows how she got them. People are dumb.

Also, justice for the lion! He didn't deserve any of this.

So someone killed the husband by bashing in his skull, then somehow managed to make it look like the lion did it and ran off while Mrs Ronder was being attacked? Maybe she was having an affair with someone in the show? And her lover just peaced out when the lion started rampaging - honestly, fair. I too would probably run from a rampaging lion. Though I never intend to be that close to one. Whatever they did to enrage the lion was definitely a dick move, though.

Lion is currently the best character in this story.

But Holmes and Watson have to stop for some partridge right now. We'll have to wait until they've finished before we find out what really happened.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #The Veiled Lodger #long post

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sheepiling · 1 year

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15 Questions for 15 Mutuals

Thank you to @cantseemtohide for the tag! 🤗

1. Are you named after anyone?

I was adopted at 18 months and never met my biological mother after that so I have no way of knowing; my adoptive parents didn’t change my first or middle names.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I always cry during period week. And every time I watch Encanto.

3. Do you have kids?

Not yet! My husband and I do want at least one kid, though. Maybe two! Not yet, though.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Only for friends that like sarcasm. If I don’t know someone well enough to know their sense of humor yet or I know they don’t like sarcasm then I don’t use it around them. I enjoy it but it’s situational for me.

5. What sports do you play / have you played?

I was in marching band in high school, and when I was little I took ballet classes, though I didn’t stay in those long enough to graduate to pointe shoes. idk if those count as sports but that’s the only physical activities I did growing up. Nowadays I just do weights and jogging.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

Personality, vibe checks, & whether or not I wanna actually talk to them or just be polite and yeet out of there.

7. Eye color?

Greyish-blue! Sometimes tealish. It depends on the lighting and what I’m wearing. But usually a light turquoise blue-grey color.

8. Scary Movies or Happy Endings?

While I love classic horror and occult halloweeny things, I love fairy tales more, so happy endings wins! Also I dislike all the modern horror stuff that’s a bunch of gore and jump scares and violence. I prefer horror that’s 80s or older. But I love all fairy tale movies no matter when they’re made!

9. Any special talents?

My long-term memory is abnormally good. I can vividly remember back to kindergarten. However, my short term memory is crap. I’m always losing my phone. 😅

10. Where were you born?

F L O R I D A

youtube

11. What are your hobbies?

Playing Sims and being on Simblr (obviously) but I also like a couple MMORPGs that I play with my guild. I’m also in the choir at my Unitarian Universalist church, and I still play Flute and Bodhrán privately. I’ve been meaning to join a local drum circle but haven’t dedicated the time to that yet.

12. Do you have any pets?

Yes! I have 2 cats, Abigail and Tigger, and they’re mother and son! Though if we’re counting my mom’s & mi suegra’s pets as well then we have a total of 6 pets in the family. My mom has 3 cats, Little One, Midnight, and Dev (all are rescued strays ♡) and my husband’s family has a yorkie named Toby. 💕 and that puppy is mad spoiled they have baby strollers for him and take him everywhere! 😂

13. How tall are you?

In freedom metrics I’m 5′4″

14. Favorite subject in school?

I always liked music / band the most! When you’re in marching band it consumes your entire life. The rehearsals are so long. But that’s where all my friends were so it was amazing. 💖

15. Dream job?

I flunked out of college twice, I’ve kind of given up on any type of careers. My husband is able to support us and I just get part time things when I’m able. Once we have kids I plan on being a stay-at-home mom, and if USA doesn’t fix the violence in schools problem we’ve been having by the time our future kiddos are ready for school I’ll probably homeschool at least the early elementary years. Though once the math gets too advanced for me to be able to teach I’ll need to look for other options ‘cuz I can’t homeschool the whole K~12. Hopefully we can get some kind of education reform by that time.

And now to tag peeps! I’m a bit late to answer this b/c of my Mexico trip and a lot of people have done this already. Also, 15 people is A LOT for a tag game so I’m just gonna pick the most recent mutuals in my Activity log! Sorry if you already did this. If anyone else didn’t get a ping for this tag and wants to do it you can totes tag me as the person that tagged you, though! ♡

@helenofsimblr @sparkiekong @sassie-sims @druidberries @daydreamertrait @timberllania @sir-silly @nolongerafruit @nightlifeseries @silverspringsimmer @coliemoongaming @sims-for-semi @saps-sims @faetheegrey @talesofsimverse

#asks #tags #cantseemtohide

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reignsupreme-inyourdreams · 1 month

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9 Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better

Sorry I'm late, thanks for the tag @argyleheir!

3 Ships You Like: This is by no means an exhaustive list, but the three I'm currently thinking about are:

Zack/Aerith (Final Fantasy VII)- With the recent FF7 remake chapter out I've been thinking about the best golden retriever soldier boy and the sassy spunky flower girl so much <3

KuroFai (Tsubasa)- My favorite ship of all time, they are always floating around in my mind. The grumpy ninja with a secret heart of gold and the deeply traumatized mage who is trying to hide his feelings? 10/10 no notes. not to mention the whole I-will-save-you-whether-you-like-it-or-not situation that leads to one of them becoming a vampire. Permanent heart eyes.

Ellis/Zoey (Left 4 Dead)- I fell back into my L4D phase recently and can't stop thinking about how sweet Ellis' immediate crush on Zoey is! I am also biased because the horror-movie-loving spitfire girl and southern gamer golden retriever boy is basically me and my husband in video game form.

First Ship Ever: I've been shipping since before I knew what shipping was, so if you want the absolute first then probably Rick and Evie from the Mummy, but if you want the ship that helped me discover fandom and fanfic and all of that good stuff (after my family got access to the internet) then it was AkuRoku (Axel and Roxas) from Kingdom Hearts II, and hoooo boy do I feel a little old.

Last Song You Heard: Someone New by Hozier (Is anyone surprised it's a Hozier song? I never shut up about him)

Favorite Children's Book: The Secret Garden! I'm a sucker for doomed love stories and a dead character haunting the narrative. Also a Series of Unfortunate Events because I have always had a taste for the macabre.

Currently Reading: I have had a copy of Frankenstein on my desk for months but I haven't technically started it yet, but it's next on my list!

Currently Watching: Call the Midwife! Patiently waiting for season 13 to become available for me =D

Currently Consuming: It's Pi day so I'm about to get some pie!

Currently Craving: A break/nap.

I get anxious tagging people in things so feel free to participate and say that I tagged you if you'd like to play!

#I have so many ships I can't list them all #and yeah I grew up in the 90's #so I was shipping but didn't have a way to share my thoughts because I wasn't allowed to use the computer alone #but I guess around 2005 I was allowed to go on the internet unsupervised so that's when it began #as a child my favorite books were the series that shall no longer be named but for obvious reasons I don't want to list that #i've been burned out lately so i'm really not reading or watching anything #hopefully i will again soon

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josiebelladonna · 1 year

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i can’t stop (can you blame me for it, though? i’m full of anxiety and i can put the controls on these so it’s just me doing this—i have no voice or conviction on here, anyway, so i don’t know who would get upset over these)

18+ please

What is my earliest memory of being attracted to someone?

i remember being little and peeping on a girl changing her clothes in the next room (probably my first same-sex experience). i also remember being little and watching some boy stoop over to tie his shoe (my first opposite-sex experience). i don’t even remember the context, just… that it happened.

What messages did I get as a kid about love?

i got probably the worst messages about love as a kid, like how it’s stupid and sappy and for losers: my parents having an unhappy marriage as i got into high school did nothing but reinforce this. one of my worst bullies would pull my hair or throw things at me and then just scream at me (my fucking grandmother would brush it off as “oh, he probably just likes you.” no adult would help me, either: i figured if this is what romance is, i want no part of it. i never had a chance at it because i was denied it. so, it’s hard for me to look at a regular ol couple, point at them and say they’re healthy. basically bullshit.

What was my first love?

2nd grade, little bobby otsuka next to me in our gifted class. this cute little japanese boy with round little john lennon glasses. he was so smart and always so nice to me. my first famous crush was billie joe armstrong

When have I felt the most confident about my body?

i remember being little, about five years old, and looking at myself in the mirror and taking my clothes off, one by one, until i was in the buff. i think i also sat down and opened my legs for a look there. i think i was at my grandmother’s house, too (the woman who smacked the back of my hand when she caught me with it down my shorts). i also remember being that age and taking a bath at her house and “handling” myself when she wasn’t looking (explains the water fetish, and the obsession over cleanliness). body confidence has always been an act of defiance to me as a result… and yet, i was always told that good girls always get rewarded, hence the “dirty” correlation.

What did I learn about sex growing up?

again, complete bullshit. it’s just this thing that happens and don’t you dare get pregnant, young lady. never about pleasure, never about sexuality as a whole… whenever one of my parents hinted at “the talk”, it was always “don’t let boys get in your pants” and just leaving it at that. in fact, i never got the talk from my parents: it was always from a sex ed teacher. in fact, i have a pretty clear memory of my mom telling me, “they’ll be able to explain it better than we can.”

Who is someone I admire who seems confident? What do I love about her?

probably megan thee stallion. i love how blunt she is and her idgaf attitude, and how all of her raps feel like a stream of consciousness, something i can relate to when i’m writing erotica. some more are the butcher babies, carla and heidi, for the same reason—i like how they bring horror and comics into the mix, too 🔥

What is my secret fantasy?

all my fantasies are secret, lol. i just knocked down the first chapter but black moon (my entry into kinkmas) really feels like a summation of parts. i have the desire: i’m just afraid is all.

What is one thing I desire to feel today?

euphoria. peace. feeling at ease. moreover, i want to feel like i’m not being judged or laughed at for what i feel and for the absence of a sex life on my end. i’m dead serious, i have no sex life and i feel like i fucked up majorly by letting insecurity and eating disorders get to me. (you want further proof? i didn’t even know what a sex life is supposed to encapsulate until pretty recently). i have way too much anxiety and shame about all my desires and my kinks and my thoughts and feelings. comparing myself to other people and seeing myself from the outside gets me nowhere—and i’m aware of this, too, you don’t have to be like my brother and patronize me with, “no, i don’t think you are.”—but i literally cannot help it. i feel the green druidess looking at me with scorn and disdain. i feel the people in the metallica tag watching me and whispering horrible things about me to one another (i’m about ready to just tune out that tag because this current new batch of fans and writers in there are utterly insufferable in their sexuality and it’s honestly triggering for me to witness it. “hey, look at us, we’re writing things rated mature”, good for fucking you, i’m writing multichaptered shit that’s rated explicit but you don’t see me getting rewarded for it. if anything, i’m getting shat on and painted the bad guy for it. apparently good girls do get rewarded, but apparently some good girls are more “good” than others.) i feel bad, i feel dirty, i feel like i have no business doing this, there’s too many people who have given me shit for this… but something fights it, though. my anxiety is there but i know in my heart it’s a problem. it’s why i keep making posts like this: i want to air it out because i don’t like keeping it private. i want to feel sexy, too, like i’m genuinely curious about this vibe that just seems to come naturally to certain people where most of us, myself included, fall flat on our fucking face. like… how do you do it? what do i have to do to feel it?

How can I get some of that feeling, right now?

no clue, to be honest. i read and educate myself about things, like how to overcome anxiety (and… how it seems to affect men particularly hard, especially now? gentlemen, as a female, i’m so sorry). i can go onto an online shop like spencer’s and see their toys and lingerie without having a visceral reaction. thing is i try to picture myself in one of those lace teddies, like i stand in front of the mirror and try to envision it. and i can’t. i try to picture myself owning a sex toy with pride… and i can’t. i try to look at my kinks without wanting to hide my face or orphan my writing… and i literally can’t. i can’t picture who would lose their minds over me that much. i’ve been hit on, but it never manifested into anything further. i feel genuinely alone with it all, too, like everywhere i look, there’s someone having fun with it and enjoying what brings them pleasure, sexual and otherwise, and i can’t. it’s not just a problem with the lack of content on here in what i like: there’s a reason why i have over 2000 posts sitting in my drafts right now. i want a safe place but i am literally ashamed of everything that brings me pleasure (it’s why i have a minor panic attack whenever i see comments on any of my fics).

i see people talking about “why would you follow something you don’t like?” with me, that’s completely beside the point. the joke is also on them, because i follow so much that i like but it’s all from anxiety: it’s why i’ve only recently been vocal about social opinions, too (aside from just… feeling like everyone wants to yell and patronize each other rather than really listening and reaching across the aisle once in a while… god forbid). it’s not that i don’t have a grasp on these things—i do, it’s just i was never told to really be myself with it. it was always delivered in throwaway fashion and i was always judged or scolded or ridiculed for wanting to feel pleasure and enjoy myself. i’m haunted by this. i wish i could be five years old in front of the mirror and taking off my clothes like no one’s looking… but i can’t do it now without overthinking.

i’ve considered therapy, but i don’t know what they would tell me, though (aside from… you know. the usual bullshit).

#sigh #i wish i had a good body #i wish i had confidence—no i don’t want to fucking ‘fake it til you make it’ that’s fucking stupid #journal #journaling #sexuality #text

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maxwritingforfun · 23 days

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MAGIC AT THE MUSEUM

Is this story worth reading? Maybe. I can’t decide that for you, but what I will tell you is that this book is worth reading and you’re really going to like this.

CHAPTER 1: DYLAN???

Dylan carpell and frank fruts are walking from their school to go home in New York, the southern side. When Dylan stops in his tracks and glances his head over at a huge building that he never noticed before. Frank obviously notices and looks confused and taps him on the shoulder to ask him what’s up when Dylan runs up to the tall building, ripping the DO NOT ENTER tape off and slamming the door open and running through.

The building Dylan has just run through is a very old, almost abandoned looking museum type build, almost like a church but it doesn’t look very holy. It has a sign at the front but some of the letters have fallen off, so now it says T E ME OF N E YOR and that’s not very helpful and franks not feeling like using his brain today so without thinking he just runs in the building to try and look for Dylan. When frank is running, he trips over something, and he falls over. Franks trying so hard not to scream but he has broken something.

Distressed and worried, frank is trying not to freak because that’s always the downfall of horror movie characters. So, imagine a crippled 16-year-old boy limping around yelling quietly “DYLAN” in a freaky building that has weird statues and bones everywhere. Stepping over the bones, frank realises it’s been 2 hours since he has seen Dylan, and franks had enough so he walks back, but when he walks back, he realises all of the statues have moved, and the bones that were on the floor are now conjoined together to make a skeleton dinosaur. The honest reaction of Dylan is ‘WTF.” And his first thought is “this is something Dylan would do.”

Dylan has not made a sound, not a peep. It’s been three hours, either he’s dead or... well. Frank has been surrounded by all these ancient looking figure statues, some are big, some are small, and some are giant like the huge dinosaur that’s making frank nervous with all the eye contact. Frank is worried, confused and scared all at the same time. He is stood in the middle of the circle sweating when suddenly one of the statues light up, frank is confused and grateful because he can see much better. The statue is bright red and seems like some sort of animal. Tiger? No. Elephant?? No. lion? Oh my god it’s a lion! Frank is happy with himself that he figured it out but is still figuring out why its glowing.

Frank is not really the type to belief in magic, he thinks that the only true magic is Wi-Fi and that anything else is undetermined. But frank is a bit sceptical, he had just had a lesson reading harry potter so he has an open mind, and having a wave of adrenaline, he goes up a little closer and touches the lion statue. he thought maybe if he touched it, it would unlock something like in the movies. In this instance, frank was right, because as soon as he touched the lion’s mane, the whole building went bright red, flashing lights everywhere. Franks vision is destroyed for a few seconds and when he regains it, he is shocked, the statue has turned into a real lion, and is presumably singing.

A singing lion was not what frank had planned on seeing today after school. He froze but he couldn’t keep freezing because walls were moving, floors were shifting, and lions were singing. That had got frank startled, and he had sat himself down on a makeshift bench out of dinosaur bones. He is watching as a lion sings a song he has never heard of before and is trying to wake himself up because his dreams are a lot like this. He has slapped himself a couple times now and is excepting that he is not dreaming and is seeing a lion do back flips and sing vocals up to G10 sharp. Now even harry potter couldn’t handle this. Frank sits there for awhile and when the lion’s song is ending everything is slowly coming back together and it is like no animal was singing at all, and frank is sitting on the floor giving a “did I just see that” face.

Wrote by max w. 😊

#writing #story

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my-name-is-jefferooni · 10 months

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Just me talkin bout Sonic Prime, nothing to see here

I literally JUST saw Sonic Prime about an hour before writing this, and... IT WAS AMAZING!! I will be honest, I skipped most of season one so I'm kind of a fraud, but I SWEAR I will get back to season 1 in a moment! For now I have all the context I need.

(plz don't chew me out I promise I'm gonna watch it...)

I wasnt gonna watch sonic prime anyway, i just got fed up with all the out of context spoilers so i wanted to see what all the hype was about

ANYWHIZZLE

I'm just gonna talk about Sonic and Shadow for a sec, don't mind me- Okay so we're all aware of Sonadow. It's been a thorn in my side for years, actually. I never liked Sonadow surprisingly, and that's mostly due to how Deviantart portrayed the ship. When I started out as a mediocre writer, (I'm not working as a writer or anything, I just do this for fun) I posted my work on DA while simultaneously enjoying a bunch of STH fanart. I got into the fandom thanks to Gigi's "The Murder of Me," which is pretty popular. ANYHOW, I constantly stumbled upon Sonadow ship art and every single time I did, it was always overly sexualized to some degree. And back then I was very very not okay with sexualizing characters who are clearly within their teens. I still am averse to this today! So naturally, I developed an evergrowing hatred for Sonadow, only seeing it for the shitshow that DA made it seem like. And that's how it was for years to come. For about 3-4 years, I despised Sonadow with a passion, only leaving room for one or two exceptions. (Read "The Heart of a Monster," which is actually here on Tumblr. I've reblogged the comic a few times on this blog.) Then Sonic Prime came along and chucked all that disdain out the window with the help of some Tumblr peeps that I follow. If you saw the first episode then you know exactly what I mean. I saw the first episode of season 1B, enjoyed Sonic and Shadow's dynamic, started to really think about it... Then I too fell down the Sonadow rabbit hole. So far I only have 2 exceptions for Sonadow but I'm not willing for that to change. Sonadow's probably not all bad, it's probably just the horrors of Deviantart that I witnessed. Sure, the cover of a book is meant to be judged, but I don't read books so I can't judge something that I can't even see. Tl:DR, I used to hate Sonadow but now Sonic Prime is making me love them.

CHAOS SONIC!!!!!!!! I love him so much. I already loved them just based on their design alone and from what little I'd seen of them, but then I actually watched the episode, and... Wow. He is a riot. Like. Literally the first thing this guy says to Sonic is calling him out on his insecurities. RIGHT OFF THE BAT THE TWO ARE NECK-AND-NECK AND FIGHTING TO THE DEATH! Here we have a perfectly great Metal Sonic that can fight Sonic and then get back up again after a defeat without needing any at-home repairs! They're the perfect anti for Sonic, since they also just. Get back up again. They don't ever give up, and that's what I love about him! Chaos also just runs his mouth all the time, never stopping to take a breath because he can't even breathe, and that's great! THIS ROBOT IS LITERALLY JUST ADHD BUT ENCASED IN METAL. As opposed to Sonic, who is ADD encased in flesh and quills. Oh, and don't even get me started on Sonic and Chaos's dynamic! The two bounce off each other in a literal and metaphorical sense! Chaos says something, and then Sonic retorts by either saying something in response or does something in response. They can also read each other like open books, as if they've known each other their whole lives, and it's great seeing them play off each other so well! You don't get to see this kind of rivalry/dynamic between Metal and Sonic anymore these days, since Metal has been sidelined to a silent assassin that just wants to get the job done. Him and Sonic don't have a very intriguing dynamic, but Chaos and Sonic do! And I love that! (I'm not trying to imply that Metal staying mute is inherently a bad thing all around, but it's just really refreshing to see a talking Metal Sonic that has a really great dynamic with the original.)

Nine's betrayal makes sense! That's all I really wanna say tbh-

Aight so I'm sorta losing my "Touch" right now and I've been typing for a while. Look at all this! This is an essay! I do have a ton more thoughts on a lot of the other characters like Mangy and the Amy's, and also Sonic's new form! But this is really long already and my fingers are getting tired, so maybe there will be a part two. Who knows!

Thanks for reading my very first post ever, and sorry about how long it is. Hopefully my next one will be shorter.

Anywhizzle, ima go look at Sonic Prime spoilers. Can't wait for the actual season 2!

#blog/ask stuff #idk what else to tag this as tbh #maybe I'll make a new tag for post stuff??? Who knows!#I sure don't #I'm winging all this. leave me alone.#>:(

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silenthorrorfilm · 1 year

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Horror movie time! Do you like them? Are you a thriller person or a gore person? Any favorite villain? What horror movie do you think is over hyped? What horror movie do you like the most? How do you feel about jumpscares? Twist endings? If you're not a horror movie fan, just talk to me about your favorite Halloween movies :)

i used to not like horror movies, like i was just a mega anxious kid so i didn't watch stuff like that but i would watch older monster movies like the original dracula, the wolf man, phantom of the opera, etc bc those weren't like SCARY yknow?

as i've gotten older though, i've def gained SUCH an appreciation for horror movies! in fact this month i've been trying to watch a new one every day :33

i've seen stuff from all over the board, so i'd like to say i know what i do and don't like. like i don't like movies where the Big Scary Thing is like, an animal, like Cujo or Jaws or w/e. It's never really appealed to me. i also don't love supernatural horror, just like generally, but i think it can be well-executed when mixed with other things. i also don't care for the cannibal subgenre, as it's just kinda culturally insensitive as well as not incredibly interesting or engaging generally.

as for stuff i DO like, i really do like gorier/splatter movies (sometimes referred to as "torture porn" movies, but mostly pejoratively and i don't care for that term), if they're done WELL. it can be hard to strike a balance between good gore and a story that warrants it, bc if you don't have enough it feels like there's no pay-off, but if there's too much you get desensitized and it feels less like a movie and more a sfx showcase. it can be mega hit or miss, but i still like seeking out movies that bill themselves that way. i also love a good slasher, i mean it's hard to go wrong, it's the most iconic subgenre of horror for a reason, like if you ask people to name a horror movie off the top of their heads chances are it's a slasher. and they're fun!! even when they're bad they can still be campy and good to watch, more to laugh at. i also like psychological horror, like stuff that feels like the protag rly is tortured mentally and sometimes as a viewer you're unsure if what's happening is actually happening or if it's in their head??? good stuff. that's why american psycho is one of my faves, you're left wondering if patrick really did kill all those people or if he's just imagining it, bc there's evidence both ways!!

oh!! and a trope i ADORE is like,,,murderous artists as the killer. like characters who are like "i need to kill people for my art, and they will be immortalized in it even if i kill them"??? good shit!!! no matter what kind of art it is, murderous artists rly scratch an itch for me ehehe,,,

some of my favorite horror movies overall are scream (1996), black christmas (1974), hostel part 2, peeping tom (1960), house of wax (2005), psycho, re-animator, and halloween (1978) ^^

as for over hyped, recently my boss recommended the cabin in the woods to me and i really really hated it. like it's trying to do the thing scream does really well which is sort of lampoon the cliches of the genre, but scream was made by someone who has a lot of love for the genre and clearly wasn't just banking on that as the only draw. the cabin in the woods was clearly written by somebody who hates horror movies and thinks they're all pointless garbage, like it's just so much more mean-spirited, and it made me hate it so so much. and it's not like it's saying anything that hasn't been said before, it came out in 2011, i think that whole "oh the virgin always survives the jock dies first they always split up blah blah blah" observation had already been made a million times in a million different and much more interesting ways, this is just trying SO HARD to pat itself on the back for making that point too. also, in the last 10 minutes a character we've never seen comes in and explains to the protags what's going on in the movie, which like if you need someone to come in and just drone exposition at the viewers to make them understand what happened in the movie, YOU'RE A BAD SCREENWRITER. but for some reason, it has like a 90% on rotten tomatoes and i'm baffled as to why. there are some others but i'll spare you bc this is already too long as it is jsjhsjhsj

#i have a letterboxd acc just to track my horror movie watching ehehe #behind the scenes

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fuwushiguro · 3 years

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Could This Be Love I'm Feeling?

Day Fifteen: Face Fucking | 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

step bro!Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader

Genre: Smut Notes: He's just a lil jealous and protective... y'know?? (also this is my first full Bakugo fic pls be kind) Warnings: 18+, dubcon/noncon, stepcest, over protective!Bakugo, toxic relationship, virgin!reader, alcohol, slut shaming, face slapping, degradation, praise, face fucking, hair pulling, dumbification, a lil somno at the end. Words: 5.9k

Although Bakugo had initially been against the notion of his mother remarrying, he’d certainly come accustomed to you. He’d been so used to being an only child. The golden child. The pain in his mother’s ass who was also the best thing that ever happened to her. You didn’t detract from that, obviously. You’d never compare to someone like Bakugo. Though, he is proud of you. He was even sad to see you go when you spread your wings and left home to live on your university campus. But at least things were looking up. October 31st was right around the corner. Your parents had booked a spontaneous weekend away.

And Bakugo had convinced you to come back home.

In all of the years your parents had been married; you never missed a Halloween with Bakugo. He used to hate it, but that isn’t the case these days. In fact, it might even be his favourite holiday. Every single year without fail, you matched costumes with your big brother.

Angel and Devil. Undead Mickey and Minnie Mouse. You even convinced him one year to wear a dress and be one of the twins from The Shining with you.

He had no idea what you could do this year. You always come up with the best ideas. He knows how seriously you take Halloween, he doesn’t think he’s met anyone who loves it as much as you do. He told you he was at a loss when thinking of costumes. And then he sent a follow up text asking if you had any ideas.

When you told him to bear with you, he didn’t expect it to take you three whole days to come to a decision. And he didn’t hear a peep out of you for those three days, either. He texted you: asking if you’re okay, if you’d thought of anything, if you were alive. And then finally, after those three long days, you did reply. You’d been having a horror movie marathon with some friends in your dorm. Three. Whole. Days. You could have texted, sure. But what was the rush? After watching The Exorcist and falling in love with it all over again, the answer was clear.

Bakugo The Priest. And you would be a nun.

There were girls arriving to Bakugo’s party, and they had nothing in common with you. He ogled them as they entered. He took cheeky peering glances when one would bend over a little as they fixed up a drink from the punch bowl. And he certainly couldn’t help but stare when one of the girls from his class had a wardrobe malfunction and he caught the slightest nip slip. They were all gorgeous. Perfect bodies accentuated by slutty costumes. His friends couldn’t wait to get their dicks wet. And neither could he. But he couldn’t help but think; as perfect as they were, they shared zero similarities with his precious baby sister.

There’s nothing sexier than a drunk slut. Especially on Halloween. The catsuits clung to skin and skimpy dresses possessed plunging, exposing necklines. Bakugo was disgusting, but he was known as a king amongst his friends. Always finding the drunkest, most intoxicated bimbo at the party and fucking their brains out in your parents double bed. He had a reputation from the girls on his campus for having a big cock and knowing exactly what to do with it. Although he was known to not want to settle down, he was known for fucking and never calling back, he seemed to be irresistible to women. They couldn’t help themselves around him.

More fool them if they suspect they can change him.

It happened every single year. At every single Halloween party. You’d match with him, but that was as far as it would go between you two. He would have a protective arm around you all evening, shielding you from his frat boy friends who were just as scummy as he is. But as soon as he found a tail to chase, you’d be forgotten.

After a copious amount of time would pass, however, you’d look up to see him coming down the stairs and fixing his costume. Once again securing you in a one-armed hug wrapped around the back of your shoulders. He trusted you, and he was right to. He had just fucked in the amount of time he’d been gone for. Who’s to say you wouldn’t do the same? You wouldn’t, and he knows that. You’re his good girl. His sweet baby sister who’d never have a drunken hook-up at a party. Because you aren’t like the drunken sluts that he goes to college with.

He doesn’t even let you drink. It doesn’t matter that you’re old enough, he doesn’t care. Bakugo won’t allow anything to corrupt his innocent baby sister. He does let you have one drink, though. Only one. A Halloween treat, he calls it. You aren’t allowed to down it, he instructs you to take your time with it. You need to be clear headed. He knows his friends. He is his friends. And a silly little thing like a verbal yes or no isn’t going to be enough to stop him from shoving his cock up a hole.

They can all smell the innocence on you, every year without fail. The fact you’ve never had a boyfriend. The fact that you’ve never seen a dick, let alone had one inside of you. You’re so sweet. There’s something so alluring about virgins. The idea of collecting v-cards and staking your claim on a cute virgin girl is a power trip he can’t even begin to describe. The pure unadulterated rush of knowing that in no uncertain terms, the woman who’s virginity he steals will never be able to ride another cock without thinking of him.

It’s most apparent in your costume choices, too. You aren’t dressing like these other girls. You’re much more conservative than that. Minnie Mouse, for example. You wore a red and white polka-dot dress that didn’t reveal a single lewd inch of your body. And while the other women here were trying to look pretty, faces covered in makeup and face paint that didn’t cover too much, you were actively trying to look terrifying. Fake blood, fake teeth, SFX wounds. In a sea of Regina George’s, you were without a doubt Cady Heron.

“When’s your sister getting here, dude?” Kirishima asked. An hour and a half had already gone by and most of the party goers were stupidly drunk. Kirishima included. His drink was sloshing out of his solo cup and onto his hand as he swayed from side-to-side. His hand landed on Bakugo’s shoulder as he asked his question. The blonde immediately shoved it away.

“Don’t ask me that again; unless you want me to beat the shit out of you.” Bakugo projected, his vision firmly fixed on the front door. He was wondering the same thing, honestly. When are you getting here?

“Aw, cute! Goin’ into protective brother mode Bakugo?” Denki teased. Before Bakugo could bite his head off, Kaminari interrupted his attempt of speaking by declaring, “Lighten up, let’s do some shooooooots!”

His friend group were already departing from the front room to the kitchen. And with one final look at the front door, Bakugo turned away and joined them. If only he’d waited a few more minutes. If only he held off and waited a little longer, he would have noticed you when you finally turned up. You brought some girlfriends of your own and you entered the party proudly. No one seemed to pay you any mind, however, but you didn’t expect them to. You’re just Bakugo’s sister, after all. You’re not the main attraction like he is.

The boy and girl divide was unusual for a party like this. You introduced yourself to some of Bakugo’s classmates while all of the guys seemed to be in the kitchen still taking shots and laughing raucously together. Normally there was a girl here for every guy. They’d leech themselves onto one and lay the ground work with the promise of pussy by the end of the night. It didn’t always happen, unless you were Bakugo of course, but you couldn’t help but feel awkward with this current situation. It didn’t feel… right.

All of the boys froze in place as they returned to the front room. There’s more people here, now. More girls. Bakugo shook his head when Kirishima asked if he’d invited them.

“Do you know her?” Kaminari asked.

Bakugo studied the new arrivals. All in the usual whorish getups so he knew you still hadn’t arrived. He wasn’t sure who he was referring to initially, but soon realised he was talking about the girl at the punch bowl. Her back was to the room, and was unintentionally flashing her panties to all of the guys. Bakugo isn’t shy with his gawking. The cute white cotton firmly hugging her lips is enough to make his cock throb.

When she stands upright, he notices more of her costume. White thigh high socks and black stripper heels. Did she really come to a Halloween party just wearing a simple black dress? Pathetic. In fact, it’s grounds for removal. That is until he realises as she flips her hair, it isn’t her hair. Is she wearing a… habit? A nun’s habit? Oh fuck. You aren’t going to like that when you turn up and realise another girl is wearing the same costume as you. He’ll have to remove her for that alone. Poor girl, it isn’t her fault. She wasn’t to know. Bakugo begins walking over, but stops in his tracks as he sees her turn to face one of her friends as she laughs at her jokes.

There isn’t going to be a problem at all.

Because the slutty nun drinking in excess from the punch bowl, is you.

“Holy shit, is that—?”

“Hey!” Bakugo yells to you. Your face lights up as you finally spot your big brother. Running to him as best you can in those high heels of yours. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck, and as much as he wants to shove you off him, he can’t. “What the fuck are you doin’ drinkin’ that shit baby?” he wonders. You pull away, pouting at him.

“Don’t start, Katsuki.” you insist, “The protective thing isn’t fun anymore. I’ve been drinking and having fun with my friends since I left. Let’s just have a good night, yeah?” you add.

“I—”

“Kirishima! Kaminari! Great to see you both.” you smile, hugging them and kissing a cheek of theirs each.

Bakugo can’t believe what he’s seeing. What he’s hearing. What the hell has university done to you? This isn’t the little sister he remembers at all. He used to have to force you to say more than two words to his friends. And now you’re strutting up to them and hugging them? Kissing them? And that outfit. Who the fuck are you?

Your brother was tired of your bullshit after a few more hours went by. You’d been behaving yourself, of course, but he didn’t like this new fake version of yourself. You’ve clearly been brainwashed by your new friends on campus. You’ve been manipulated into becoming just like every other slut he knows.

Couldn’t you have just stayed his sweet baby sister?

Apparently not. He doesn’t want to let you out of his sight, and he cannot handle the way you keep feeling up Kirishima. It’s subtle, you think, don’t you? The way you keep lightly tapping him and laughing when he tells a joke that isn’t anywhere near funny. And he’s lapping it up, obviously. He’s wanted to fuck you for a while, all of his friends have. Fuck. Bakugo has. But he wouldn’t. That’s a line he’d never cross. But if he can’t have you, there’s not a fucking chance he’ll let any of his friends.

“Stop flirting, you’re embarrassing yourself.” Bakugo reprimands. You roll your eyes casually and drink some more of your punch.

“She’s fine, man, she’s not bothering anyone.” Kirishima argues.

“Shut the hell up, prick. She’s bothering me.” he finishes, snipping at the person he considers his best friend. It’s a miracle he has friends, or anyone who cares about him, at all considering how nasty he is to everyone in his life.

You say goodbye to the group and decide to mingle among your own friends instead.

He doesn’t want to let you disappear from his vision.

He doesn’t want to leave you for a single second.

But he has to. Fuck. He has to. He has to pee.

Fucking alcohol makes you piss like a faucet.

You were a little surprised to notice that your brother had vanished into thin air. Your head snapped to every direction in the room. He was truly nowhere to be seen. There’s been one thing on your mind since you accepted Bakugo’s invite back home to the yearly Halloween function. And that thing is Kirishima. More specifically; letting Kirishima be the one to take your virginity.

Once you were sure the coast was clear. You approached him once more. He couldn’t help but snicker when you whispered so sweetly in his ear. How could he refuse your invite to your childhood bedroom? The place where you touched yourself endlessly, quiet breathy moans as you thought of your big brother’s hot best friend. Tonight was the night, and it had to be him.

He grabbed your hand, quickly pulling you up the stairs right along with him.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. Unforgivable, in fact.

Because just as Bakugo had finished peeing.

Just as he left the bathroom and began scanning the room for you once more.

He saw those ridiculous fucking stripper heels of yours taking the final step upstairs.

Did you really think you were going to get away with that? And Kirishima is even dumber than he looks if he thinks Bakugo is going to forgive him after this. He’s out of his mind if believes he’s going to stand idly by and allow that red-headed fuck to pop his little sisters cherry.

He doesn’t react immediately. He thinks he’ll give you both some time so you can be caught with your pants down. The way his friends wriggle and squirm as he asks them question after question would be amusing to him if he wasn't so pissed off. Each of them too idiotic to realise he already knows the answers. Kirishima is apparently in the upstairs bathroom when he questions his whereabouts. And did anybody see where his darling sister went? Allegedly you’re on the phone outside.

What a bunch of shady bastards.

It surprises no one when Bakugo finishes his drink and crushes the red cup with an irritated grip. He doesn’t run upstairs. It’s a casual, menancing, stalk. He knows he won’t be too late. You’re a virgin, after all. You’ll be eager to take your time. And despite what a reprobate Kirishima is, he’s fairly confident he’ll respect that.

He can’t wait to find out who initiated this scandalous little encounter.

You can’t move quick enough when your brother kicks your door in. Bakugo likes to fuck in your parents marital bed; but you have more respect than he does. Is this really what you wanted? Not a special, romantic dalliance? You’d rather fuck drunk with this piece of shit? Embarrassing. Maybe you’re not as special as he thought.

You’re both scrambling to pick up your clothes and cover yourselves up. He was right, though. You hadn’t gone far at all. Kirishima was shirtless with the black and white striped trousers from his Beetlejuice costume still firmly up and buttoned.

You, however, were too panicked to actually dress yourself. Your habit was still on, but that was pretty much it. You never used to wear lingerie like that. He knows. Because not only did he used to peep at you through your door whenever you got changed with it slightly ajar, but he used to rifle through your underwear drawer too. You shielded your body with your black dress, looking at the floor as you couldn’t bear to look your brother in the eye. He’s seen it all before, but he can’t help but seethe as what you were trying to do really sinks in.

“She a good kisser? Huh? How far did this go?” Bakugo questions. You’re stuttering over yourself, trying to form a single sentence offering any sort of explanation but he raises a finger to silence you as his eyes home in on Kirishima. “Just a lil bit of tongue with her? Some heavy petting maybe?” he continues. You’re tremoring all over. You were stupid to think things wouldn’t end up like this. As if he wouldn’t notice you’ve gone missing with his best friend at his party.

“Hey, Bakugo, she came onto me.” Kirishima tried to reason. The way he threw you under the bus sent your mind into overdrive. You were fucked now. You’ve never done anything to make him mad before. Always so lovely. So sickeningly sweet. But you’ve seen what he does to other people when he’s pissed off. How he talks to them. You’re already fighting back tears. You can’t take it. The tension, the apprehension, you can’t take it.

“You didn’t turn her away, though. Did you? Bastard.” Bakugo hisses. If Bakugo wasn’t as morally bankrupt as his best friend, he’d certainly be in the right. Although he thinks he is anyway. And Kirishima does feel guilty. If only a little. How could he be blamed? He’s sure Bakugo would find it hard to resist if the shoe was on the other foot. If you were his little sister, Bakugo would have already fucked you by now and thought nothing of it. But you aren’t Kirishima’s sister. You’re his. “Fuck outta my sight, wanna talk to her.” Bakugo spoke as he turned to look at you.

Kirishima grabbed the remainder of his clothes and skulked out of the room. He already knows he’s about to get the life tormented out of him when he returns to the rest of the boys like this. He’s been well and truly cockblocked. Although he’s sure he can find another poor victim for the evening.

“What are you fucking playin’ at? Pissin’ me off, this isn’t like you.” Bakugo tells you. He grabs the fat of your under arm and drags you away from the corner of the room and forces you onto your bed. What are you playing at? “You tryna get some fuckin’ attention? Huh? Actin’ out so people will pay attention to you?” he continues.

“No—!” you interject. That isn’t what it is at all.

“Then what?” he wonders. Words forcing their way through the gaps of his teeth as he growls at you. “I know you’re still a fuckin’ virgin. And you wanna lose it like that? Drunk and with someone who doesn’t give a fuck about you?” he harasses you, slapping your face to get your attention. He’s gonna lose it if you don’t look him in his fucking eyes. He needs you to get it in that pretty little head of yours. You’re being a fucking idiot. He’s looking out for you. Aren’t you lucky?

“’m embarrassed Katsuki!” you blurt out. Lip wobbling and tears spilling from your eyes. Silent sobs escape and you feel a crushing weight on your lungs. You’re holding back. You’re holding it in. You’re embarrassed. You’re so embarrassed.

“Huh, embarrassed? Why?”

“Because,” you sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. “you never let me drink. ‘n all my friends did!” you begin. Watery eyes finding his. He’s smiling at you. Laughing in fact.

“Babe, I—”

“No! N-No Katsuki, listen to me for once.” you interject. You’re at your boiling point. You’ve been feeling like this for a while. Feeling resentment towards him. And you thought tonight you were finally going to gain some control of your own fucking life. And as usual, he’s ruined everything. “’m the only one of my new friends who’s never had sex! Do you know how embarrassing that is? And that’s your fault! You scare everyone away… you- you—!”

“Enough.” Bakugo stops you, before you can say anything you regret. You’re thankful, really. It was enough. That was all you needed to say to get your point across. He knows there’s no reason for you to be embarrassed, but he can understand. The feeling of being left out and unable to experience something that everyone else around you has. The feeling of missing out. He understands, he does. But this defiance. This secrecy. The blatant disrespect of going behind his back will not go unpunished. “Shoulda told me baby.” he tells you calmly, crouching on the balls of his feet as he rubs his thumbs sensually into your knees.

“Woulda been mad at me…”

“No, not mad. Never mad at you.” he tells you, soothingly. “I’m your big brother, understand? I’d do anything for ya. I wanna help.”

“Help?”

“Yeah,” he repeats. What is he saying? He’s always wanted this. Always fantasised about fucking your stupid, naïve little brains out. But he never thought he’d actually do it. But he feels sorry for you. He does. It’s absolute truth that he scares everyone away. He doesn’t want anyone to have you if he can’t. But he can. Can’t he? You’ll let him. You’re drunk. You’re so drunk. And you’re emotional, and needy. And he can. He can. He— “want me to make your virginity go away?”

And you know it’s wrong. You know that you shouldn’t. Even now, when you’re fucked out of your head from cheap alcohol. You know better. You do. But still, you find yourself nodding. Glossy, pleading eyes staring into your big, perfect brother’s. You want this. You want him. He’s so nice. The best big brother in the world. He’s prepared to do this for you. To help your embarrassment stop. To make it all go away.

“Tell me you want this.”

“Y-Yeah…” you nod. Accepting his offer with intoxicated consent. “I want it, Katsuki.”

Oh, but he is mad. Couldn’t you tell? He’s just a special type of mad with you. He’d never ever raise his voice to you. Not like he does with everyone else, anyway. You’ve told him all he needs to hear. You want it. You can’t be upset with him for giving you exactly what you want. What you asked for. And he will. He promises he will, in time. But for now, did you really think he’d let you get away with trying to fuck Kirishima instead of him? Silly girl. He’s a special type of mad. But it was because of that stupid little idea that brewed in that even stupider head of yours. So that’s what he’ll punish. Your stupid. Fucking. Head.

There’s no need to be shy now. Still covering your body with that little outfit of yours. He yanks it out of your hands and throws it somewhere away from you both. You’re soon joining it on the ground when he pulls you down by your wrists. You land on your knees with a thud and manage to save a bump on the head by stopping yourself with your hands. You turn to him. He’s removing his clothes too. That cheap priest costume he bought. He bought it for you. He’ll do anything you ask.

Won’t you do the same?

“Katsuki?” you whimper.

“Shut it.” he barks. And you do. A sweet little gulp trails down your innocent throat. He won’t be able to call it that anymore. “Straight up on your knees princess. Need to teach you a lesson first, hm?” he reminds you.

You nod. You suppose that’s only fair. He is helping you out even after you tried to fuck him over. He studies your form as you straighten your body. The sheer material of your virginal white underwear. The way your nipples are almost hard enough to poke through and rip the material. Virgins are fun. But you will be the best. His ultimate prize. He’s going to claim each and every inch of your body. Starting with your mouth that got you into so much fucking trouble.

His thumb caresses your lower lip. It’s sweet. Sensual. He smiles darkly as he admires the way he pulls and the plump flesh wobbles back into its rightful place. Oh God those fucking lips. He’s longed to see them wrapped around his cock. For now, though, he can’t resist letting his thumb take a cheeky poke inside. He doesn’t need to say it. But he does. Whispers, in fact. Small vibrations of the word ‘suck’ fill the air. And you do. Your lips pout around his thick thumb and your tongue swirls around. He’s humiliated when a small gasp falls from his mouth. This is happening. This is actually happening. Fuck, it’s soaked. You’re a virgin, for sure. But the way you’re treating his thumb has him second guessing himself. You are a total virgin, aren’t you? You better not have sucked cock before without him knowing.

“Had a cock in this mouth before, gorgeous?”

Your big doe eyes are fixated on him. Furious red irises boring down at you. He’s already furious with you. And he’ll know if you’re lying. He always does. But relief washes over him. You don’t speak. You just shake your head. Good girl. Good fucking girl. No one else is allowed to put their fucking cock near you. Your body isn’t for anyone else – just for him.

He’s had enough of this little game now. It was fun for a minute, but he needs to teach you a lesson. He loves you. Bakugo hopes you understand. He’s doing this because he loves you. God, his tip is already embarrassingly drippy at the thought of you having it in your mouth. Fuck. Who’s he kidding? He’s been hard since he walked in and saw you in nothing but your underwear. It got worse when you were crying about how desperate you were to lose your virginity. God, his poor, sweet sister. How much fun you could have been having if you made this little confession earlier.

Your eyes bulge as his throbbing length is set free from his boxers. It’s big, right? It looks big. You’re scared of it. You’re scared of having it inside of you. But he’ll be gentle with you, won’t he? It’s your first time after all. And he loves you. As a brother, of course. He does love you.

Not like a brother.

“B-Big.” you tell him. Your vision swapping from his tip to his eyes.

“Yeah baby, it’s big.” he smiles, running his fingers through your hair. “Bigger than Kirishima’s.” he adds. You blush at that. Heat pooling in your cheeks as the reality of what you’re doing sets in. Once you do this, there’s no going back. You’ll never be able to escape the knowledge that your big brother took your virginity.

“P-Please be nice, Katsuki,” you beg. “Gentle…”

“No, princess.” he speaks. “Woulda be sweet if you had been a good girl f’me. But you’ve been a naughty little whore. So, I gotta make sure you learn your lesson, okay?”

Well, that’s that. There’s nothing more you can do but prepare yourself for what Bakugo is going to do. Your lips were shut. They shouldn’t be. You know your mouth should be ready to take him, but that rude awakening of his was enough to make any access sew itself shut.

“Tch. Open…” he demands. You do, instantly.

He could ask you anything and you’d do it, though. He taps his tip on your lips a few times before slotting his head inside. It’s salty. An obvious mix of human skin, salt and sweat. He did shower before the party. But would you expect him to be smelling of roses when he’s been dancing and partying all night? He let’s you adjust for a mere minute. Allowing you to at least have a little experience of what it’s like to have cock in your mouth and enjoy it before he completely ruins it for you. And he does. You bite a little when his fingers lace in your hair and tug harshly.

“No fuckin’ teeth or I’ll be even rougher with you.” you do your best to adhere to his wishes, trying to adjust your mouth and lips so you can cover your teeth. “That’s the way, good girl. Look at me.” he orders. You do. It’s just the tip, and your eyes are already filled with water. “Good fuckin’ girl. ‘m gonna ruin you now.”

It’s horrendous. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt. You can literally feel him down your throat and you can’t fucking breathe. Thank goodness for your nose. It takes every part of your brain to remember how to breathe from your nostrils. Fuck, you can’t stand it. You can’t.

“Ah – fuck – your mouth feels fuckin’ amazing. So wet f’me,” he sighs. He doesn’t care that you’re suffering. You’re not meant to be enjoying it. This is disciplinary action for being such an eager cock slut. He’s just giving you what he wanted. And you will give him what he wants. Whether you want it or not. Whether you can cope or not. His fingers are tangled deep against your roots. The noises coming from your throat are obscene. Pure, consummated, sin. It’s nothing Bakugo has never done before, but the level of debauchery it takes to face fuck your own sister has his mind reeling. Fuck he’s disgusting. You’re disgusting. But he loves you anyway. There’s no way he couldn’t, especially after this.

You’re humming against him, desperate to breathe as he repeatedly slams his cock down your throat. Copious amounts of dribble drools out of the corners of your mouth. Your eyes are crossed. You’ve given up; barely able to remain conscious as he fucks all of the oxygen from your brain. With the way he’s battering your tonsils, you think you’ll be lucky if you can ever speak again. Stupid slut. A weighty palm finds itself connecting with your cheek, bringing you sharply back to reality with your brother snarling down at you.

“You d-don’t get to log out of this,” he stutters as your throat clenches him tightly. “Ain’t this what you wanted baby? Some cock?”

“Mhmm—”

“Goin’ fuckin’ stupid for it, only fucking your mouth too. How’re you gonna cope when I put it in that needy little cunt of yours?”

This is a punishment. But he’s just trying to scare you a little. There’s no way he’s going to bully his cock into you for your first time. He will be gentle for that. But seeing the panic sear through your eyes is almost enough to make him fire his creamy load down your throat. Although, he’s fucking himself just as stupid as you are. He’s surprised he has any coherent thoughts or sentences in him right now. Because he’s lost. Fucking lost in the wet, saliva sodden cavern that is your mouth. Why had he waited so long to do this?

“G-Gonna fuckin’ cum.” he tells you, softly. It’s almost like he’s embarrassed. He usually lasts longer than this. You won’t make fun of him, though. You don’t know any better after all. Silly little virgin. Damn. He sure will miss calling you that. “Y’hear me dummy? Gonna take my fucking cum down your slut throat?” he announces a little louder. He smiles, because you’re nodding. What a precious baby you are.

“Mhmm! Mhmm!” you hum. The vibrations of your throat tipping him over. He’s sure you did that on purpose. Even if you’re too fucking dumb to know what you’re doing. You knew.

“Agh, ohhhh – fuck – fuckin’ christ take it. Take my fucking cum you slut.” he commands.

And you do. He laughs a little when you jolt. You hadn’t expected it to be like that, had you? The way it spurts out, shooting in parts directly against the back of your throat. You want to gag. It isn’t nasty, but it isn’t particularly nice either. It’s salty, but a different kind of salty to his cock. You definitely want to brush your teeth after this. He forces your head down against his navel so you have no choice but to swallow. And there’ll be hell to pay if he sees a single drop wasted. Take it. That is what he wants. He feels the way you’re gagging. You poor, innocent thing. You’ve never had to train your gag reflex before. You didn’t think it would be nearly this hard. But now you do. And he’ll help you get better, it’s a silent promise to himself in his head.

“Let me see.” he demands, pulling you aggressively from his softening length. He tilts your head side to side for you, making sure every drop of his kids were where they belong – racing down into your belly. “What a good fuckin’ girl you are. Took that like a champ.”

“M-My throat,” you speak hoarsely. Clutching at your windpipe with two hands.

“I know, I know baby I’m sorry.” he soothes, bending down to leave soft kisses on your forehead. “Shall we take a little break before I fuck you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t, I don’t want to have sex anymore.” you boldly confess. “Not when I’m- I’m drunk. You were right. You’re always right Katsuki.” you continue.

He can’t deny the way his ego soars when you tell him that. Being right is like a drug to Katsuki. And he never thought he’d hear you say something like that to him. Always right, huh? He is. He fucking is. Although he wishes he wasn’t right this time. You little fucking cock tease. But he nods. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. And what you need right now more than anything – is sleep. To sleep off this experience, this party, the alcohol. All of it.

He tells you he’ll stay with you until you drift off to sleep. And that doesn’t take long. It does drive you insane – how overprotective he is. But right now, you’re thankful. You’d hate to be alone when you’re like this. Drunk and vulnerable with a house full of strangers. And with him watching over you, it doesn’t take long for the sandman to come along. Your soft little snores that are so familiar to him warm his heart. It’s been so long since he’s heard them. You’ve been snoring like that since the day he met you.

It doesn’t just warm his heart, though. It hardens his cock once again. Just because you’re his sister, that doesn’t mean you’re safe from what a letch he is. He won’t fuck you – not like he does with the other unsuspecting party goers he has his way with in their passed-out states. He dips his fingers into your panties, and a guttural moan escapes him when he feels what a drippy, messy cunt you have. So wet for your big brother. You must want this just as much as he does. He lazily strokes himself as he plays with you. You’ll love it. You’ll love the feeling of cumming for the first time, you’ll make an even bigger mess of those sticky white panties of yours. What he’s doing isn’t bad. At least, not that bad all things considered.

He’s certainly done worse. This is enough. For now.

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tainted-wine · 4 years

Text

Primal Dissonance

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

So anon was like:

And since I’m total ass at writing short drabbles, or maybe it’s because they called me senpai, I ended up with a whole-ass fic. This took a different route than planned but I hope you enjoy, anon!

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Dubcon, Pheromones, Mindbreak, Feral Hawks, Rough and Public Sex, Tit Abuse. This totally isn’t as dark as it sounds.

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Hawks has been getting noisy. Not in the usual sense; he’s always a motormouth. No, he’s been making sounds that you’ve never heard him make.

At first you thought he was sick and something was irritating his throat, but on one occasion when you offered him water after hearing the sound, he almost looked offended. You concluded that it wasn’t an illness.

You later noticed that the noise often happens when it’s just the two of you together. During late night movie viewings at his place, he’d hold you close and release a constant hum, the vibrations from his chest and wings soothing enough to make you drift into sleep in his arms. You never saw the look of disappointment in his face as he decided to cuddle you for the rest of the night.

Just a few days later, he spots you during one of his patrols and presents you with a surprise expensive gift. A ruby pendant, the same brilliant shade as his feathers, was placed around your neck by gentle gloved hands.

“Hawks—why—what did I do to deserve this?” You asked while your eyes reflected the gemstone’s sparkles.

“Just wanted to give a pretty gift to my pretty girl.” He gave you a kiss, and waves of soft hums leave his mouth and into yours, flowing through your body, stimulating all of your nerves and triggering pleasant shivers. One makeout session later, and you both pull back to lock eyes. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you don’t even know what the hell he’s expecting.

You look to the side awkwardly. “Thank you, Hawks. It’s beautiful, but I…don’t have anything to give in return. This was a complete surprise, after all.”

His eye twitches, but he smiles and embraces you. “That’s fine, chickadee.”

A pigeon appears during your hug, and the soft coos emanating from it give you an epiphany.

“A pigeon! That’s what it is! You’re cooing like a pigeon!”

This time it’s his smile that twitches. Did you say something wrong? Whatever it is, he brushes it off with a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

That was also the day you noticed his rising body temperature. You asked once again if he was feeling ill, and at least this time he didn’t appear to be upset when he answered ‘no.’

On the next night you spent in his home, he—and you’re still not over this—took your hand and pulled you in for a dance. It wasn’t some silly jig in which he blindly moved to a random pop song, it was a slow classic love song, and he moved both of you in an elegant dance fitting for a ballroom.

It was the last thing you expected from the hero that normally took you on KFC dates or, if he had the time, reserve a spot at his favorite yakitori place. But there was no way you could say that you didn’t like the way his feet glided across the floor, wings acting as a living cape that made each of his movements look all the more graceful, and you followed his pace as best as you could.

You clung onto him more tightly than intended when he dipped you after a spin, sharp avian eyes boring into you before he buries his face in your neck, and that’s when you feel more than hear the cooing return. It’s a tune that never fails to make you feel so warm and safe; you have no idea how his gentle sounds have such influence over you.

He looks pleased by your relaxed state, pulling you back up and brushing a few stray hairs out of your face. “So?”

You smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I didn’t know you had such grace, Hawks. Now hurry up, or we’re going to miss the movie for tonight!”

You scampered off into the kitchen to prepare the popcorn, completely oblivious to the baffled look your boyfriend was giving behind your back.

A few days later and you’re more certain than ever that he’s coming down with something, because now there’s a constant sheen of sweat all over his skin, and his breath sounded labored even when he was just sitting around. Since he ignores all of your pleas to stay home for just a day or two, you come up with another solution. Hawks pouts like a child when you tell him that a little nature and clean air might restore his health, but he still accepts your offer for a date at a nature park because hey, spending a day in natural beauty with you sounds great.

You practically dragged him into a bus after telling him several times that he shouldn’t tire himself out prematurely by flying both of you there. One long scenic drive later, you both arrive at your beautiful destination. The park was huge and lush with flora of all kinds, from tree-filled paths to endless flower fields.

Exploring everything this paradise has to offer with Hawks sounds like a dream, but your main goal was to loosen him up and help him feel better, so you avoided the populated areas, passing the cycling roads, the play areas, the bug houses, all of the charming attractions until you reached the long stretches of vibrant colors. The flower park.

You and Hawks began a slow stroll hand-in-hand, taking in the seemingly endless blooms, the trees shedding petals onto the walkway—all of it served as the most delicious treat for your eyes.

But when you looked at the winged hero to see if he was enjoying the scenery as much as you were, you saw that he was staring at you. His face was slightly flushed, but you couldn’t tell if it was the result of his feverish temperature or if he’s finding this whole date very romantic.

“The flowers are over there, birdbrain,” you joked with a squeeze of his hand.

His wing wrapped around you and pulled you in closer, encasing you in his abnormal heat. “The only flower that matters is right here.” There was a rough breathlessness to his voice that made the otherwise corny line sound sensual.

And then the coos returned, bringing you back to that pleasant world where everything was warm, soft, and safe. The red feathers surrounding you quivered and rippled like ocean waves of scarlet. You were supposed to be making him feel at ease here, not the other way around.

A chorus of chirps snapped you out of your stupor. You broke out of the hypnotic embrace and spot a bunch of small bouncing figures in the white lilac tree in front of you. “Aww, look at all of the little tits, Hawks!” You point at the flock of singing critters.

Hawks snorted immaturely.

Before you could withdraw your arm, one of the Japanese tits flew over and perched on your still-extended finger, leaving you bug-eyed and your mouth agape. “Hi there! You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you?” You said softly, hoping not to startle it. It tweeted in response, fluffing up its black and white plumage as it looked up at you curiously. “Hawks! It’s so cute!”

Red wings bristled, but you were too enamored with the friendly bird on your hand to even look back at your boyfriend. It continued to sing, the tits sitting in the tree joining in to create an adorable medley of chirps, tweets, and peeps. “Such a nice sound, I never realized how amazing these little guys are.” You keep watching the beady eyes that stare right back at you, feeling the bird’s little feet move quickly as it adjusted itself to get more comfortable.

And with a powerful slug from a hardened red feather out of nowhere, the tiny tit is knocked off of your finger and sent flying like a fucking golf ball.

Your pointing hand was still out as you looked on, eyes and mouth now wide open in horror instead of awe. The poor bird managed to right itself before it hit the ground, flapping frantically to ride the light breeze and fly past its tree of brethren and off into the distance, its sloppy turns and sudden drops betraying how dazed it was.

With your short-lived friend out of your sight, you turned to the man that ruined your magical bonding session, multiple negative emotions boiling inside you and ready to spill right onto this bastard. “Hawks!” You’re prepared to blow his ears off with every ounce of frustration, every concern that’s been plaguing you for the past week thanks to the strange changes that he refuses to talk about, but then you freeze.

The man’s face has darkened, eyes narrowed with its pupils shrunken into beady slits, lips pressed together in a tight frown—he looked enraged. But the terrifying look wasn’t directed at you, he was looking up at the innocent tits still residing in the tree and paying no mind to the violent treatment of one of their own. As his wings slowly spread with feathers sharpened, your chest constricted once you realized what was about to happen.

“Stop!” You threw yourself at him, grabbing at the outstretched limbs in a pitiful attempt to stop them, the bladed edges cutting your hands. It was still enough to shock and prevent him from launching any of the deadly weapons at the birds. You felt his feathers return to their soft fluffy state as he stumbled from your weight. “What the hell are you doing? What, are you pissed that it chose my hand instead of yours? The hell is wrong with you?”

Now he was aiming the glare at you, and you couldn’t help but shrink under the intimidation. His voice was shockingly low. “Just what game are you playing at here? Gushing over another bird’s song right in front of me?”

You eyed his still-expanded wings as you tried to make sense of what he said. “What?” Was all you could say.

“Here I was thinking you just had extremely high standards, but maybe you’re the type that likes to play hard to get, or make your guy jealous and see how he handles it.” He took a step toward you, and you took one back. “Well let me tell you, I’m not handling it very well.”

What he was implying would have made you burst into laughter if he didn’t look so threatening right now. “You’re…jealous? Of the bird that was on my finger?”

He laughed, or at least tried to, but the shortness of breath made him cough. The sudden anger must be worsening whatever has been making him hot and throaty for the past days. He needs to calm down for his own damn sake. “I guess I shouldn’t be, should I? Not for a girl who gets wet over any bird that does something as simple as approach her.”

“Excuse me?” Did you hear that correctly? No joke, did you really hear that shit correctly?

Hawks just keeps on going, taking your bewilderment as more mockery. “I give you something shiny, you don’t say anything.” A flash of several feathers and you feel your arms being pulled in front of you, the red tufts tying your wrist together.

“I put on a nice dance I practiced for, and you don’t say anything. Did you even notice that I cleaned and decorated the room that night?” You’re panicking from your tied hands and don’t see him fire another barrage that goes for your ankles, their tugs forcing you to lose your balance and fall hard onto the ground with a pained cry. Your hands are forcefully pinned above your head. “Hell, you seem to enjoy my song every time you hear it, so what’s the deal?”

While your heart is on the verge of exploding from its anxious beats, the gears in your head are spinning as you try to figure out how exactly this whole miscommunication even happened, but they keep jamming, filling your head with sparks and smoke of pure confusion. “What song? You haven’t been singing anything!” You yell as you fight against the feather-made cuffs around your hands and feet, but there was no breaking free. They suddenly felt as strong and durable as elastic metal.

Hurt flashes across his face and you don’t understand why goddammit, but it’s quickly masked with another scowl. “You mean the song that’s lulled you to sleep? The song that never fails to put you at ease every time? I can sense it, you know. How calm and pleased you feel whenever you hear it. I know it’s not the loud obnoxious tune of a songbird,” he glances at the tree that continues to emanate various calls as he kneels over you, nearly straddling your waist. Smart of him to keep his groin out of the range of your knees. “But you still enjoy it, right? I’m not too upset that you compared it to a shitty pigeon.”

You only stutter in shaky breaths as he lowers himself and presses all of his weight onto you, your eyes shut as he nuzzles your face lovingly. He feels like a furnace, the sweat from his face slathering onto yours from his rough rubs.

That’s when you smell something potent. You’ve picked up traces of it from him throughout the week, a strange but not unpleasant mixture of salt and sweet. You assumed it to be some sort of shampoo or cologne, but now it’s hitting you full force and it’s making your body…respond. With each inhale, the exotic scent sends a tingle down your abdomen and a release of wetness that dampens your clothing. What the hell is happening to you?

Hawks pulls away and sniffs the air. Your feminine aroma has him moan so suggestively that it makes your core heat up even more. “Oh, so this is getting you going?” He questions in a judgmental tone before something appears to cross his mind, and he laughs with a slap to his forehead. “I’m such an idiot. I’ve been doing this all wrong, haven’t I? You’re not a bird.” He kisses at the side of your face and licks the shell of your ear before whispering, “You’re a mammal. You don’t choose a mate by their pretty gifts or fancy dances.”

The lustful haze invading your mind almost distracts you from whatever is tugging at your pants and pulling them down. “H-Hawks…” You accidentally moaned. You were too out of it to even properly convey your worry. Your pants are removed and something tickles your hips to remove your panties next—that’s when you identify them as more feathers.

“With mammals, males just take what they want. They catch her, hold her down, and fuck her on the spot.”

You gasp when your lower body is completely stripped and exposed—a mistake—Hawks’s intoxicating smell rushes into your mouth and nostrils, making you clench and gush. He lifts himself just enough for the living binds around your wrists to pull and drag you off of the stone walkway and into the blooming batches. The flowers were just tall enough to probably hide you from anyone at a distance, but the winged man crawling over and sitting in front of your feet would easily give you away. “Hawks, someone…might see us,” you mutter.

He only chuckles. “Good, I want them to see. Are you little bastards watching?” He looks up at the lilac tree that now looms right over both of you. The resting tits have gone quiet, most likely intimidated by the large bird-human hybrid that continued to glare at them.

The response was ridiculous enough to temporarily free you from your trance. “I’m not worried about the birds, you dumbass.”

“Hmph, of course you’re not. You’d let them all join in if I’d let you, wouldn’t you?”

You have so many questions about how that would even work.

But you’re interrupted by the feathers around your ankles pulling your feet apart, easily overcoming your resistance and spreading you wide open for the hero in front of you. You have to look away from just how soaked you are, juices flowing from your swollen pussy and onto the soft soil, some of it sticking to your parted thighs in strands. The sight makes Hawks salivate.

“I’m at the peak of my rut and I’m tired of waiting. Gonna make you mine.”

It’s all he says before his entire mouth is on your cunt, tearing a startled cry from your throat. The peaceful sounds of the wind and rustling leaves are overshadowed by the absolutely filthy slurps, sucks, and growls between your legs. He was being a greedy savage that simply wanted to drink you up. There were no careful methods or patterns, just a hungry tongue that lapped at every inch of you and lips that sucked on anything they could grip.

You could barely even writhe from the onslaught, what with your arms pinned over your head and your feet held down so strongly that you couldn’t even move them across the dirt. You kept your sights on the rich colors of various flowers that encircled you as the sweet-smelling haze enveloped you again, enhancing your pleasure. Despite Hawks’ sudden loss of his oral skills, the feral nature of it all—the smothered snarls against your sex, the startling feel of his teeth carelessly grazing your sensitive flesh, and the lewd sight of his face covered in your glistening juices as his glassy eyes opened and stared into yours as he ate you alive—his voracity had you boiling over.

He gulped your essence loudly, welcoming every drop of the orgasmic flood into his mouth. All of the colors in your vision blurred more with each mind-numbing pulse. You weren’t even aware of the shameless wails that left you until the blissful waves finally subsided.

Once he had his fill, he finally pulled away from your mound and boy did he look like a hot mess. His cheeks were a deep red that was slowly spreading across his cum-covered face, a beady string of your fluids hanging from his lips before dripping off. He was climbing back over you and when the fuck did he take his pants off? He must have unbuttoned and removed them while he was licking you into heaven.

He still manages to look smug while he takes in your spent form, your slightly parted lips impossible to resist. Your mouth was suddenly locked with his, the breath you were desperately trying to get back stolen from you. And then the scent returns, this time accompanied with a powerful salted lemon flavor that assaults your taste buds. The taste of your own pussy was insignificant; his aroma in both your nose and mouth is nearly suffocating, your still-recovering inner walls already squeezing out more of your slick.

His tongue thrashes about in your mouth to paint his sweet saliva on every spot he could reach. You swallow it up thirstily and feel an immediate response in your throat that somewhat frightens you. Numbness overtakes your mouth and your throat relaxes completely; you felt like it was suddenly impossible to choke.

Hawks messily pulls away, breathing heavily and licking his lips. “Look at you. All it takes is a whiff and taste of a rutting male to turn you into a submissive little bitch.” You’ve never heard him speak like that, but like every action he’s taken since you’ve been at his mercy, it doesn’t fail to arouse you for reasons you still don’t understand. “Do you want some more? Hmm?”

You’re nodding before your crippled mind can comprehend the question.

The drugged kiss has you dizzy. You’re doing your best to keep track of his movements as he straddles your chest, his cock coming into focus and pressing against your lips. He doesn’t give you a command, you simply open up like a trained whore.

You’re moaning from the addicting taste of his length that pushes all the way to the back of your throat. Once his pubes are flush against your nose, your eyes roll back and you lose all sense of…everything. Everything except for that exhilarant fragrance and flavor.

Even as he begins to move in your mouth, your tongue swirls all around the sweet meat in an attempt to taste him all over. You’re throbbing wildly, but the feathers prevent you from bringing your thighs together for some much needed friction.

He was thrusting in and out at a pace that should have you gagging, but you take the pounding smoothly. Everything was murky, save for the pleasure that was slowly consuming you. You think the birds are singing again, maybe.

Something was smacking against your chin…rather loudly, you think. Hawks’s balls. How obscene, the way he’s hunched over you and fucking your face so roughly, but it’s hard to feel embarrassed when it’s all making you feel so damn good. Drool gathers and drips down your mouth. Your throat has become a second pussy, and he was fucking it like one.

The scent has your entire body on fire and you wish so badly that you could touch yourself. It was too powerful, each breath filling you with more burning tension. Your desperate whines came out as bubbly gurgles around his hammering dick. Your climax is dangling right at the edge. All you need is just the smallest touch on your drenched, deprived pussy.

His thick intrusion suddenly leaves your mouth, allowing oxygen to properly enter your lungs and for the pooling saliva to be swallowed. Hawks says something as you cough and sputter, but everything is still too muffled.

“Good……….not yet……….finish inside.” That was all that you were able to catch. You frankly don’t care. You immediately want his overpowering scent back.

When something pushes past the entrance between your legs, you cum instantly. Your scream is silent, or maybe you just can’t hear it, as your restrained limbs twitch like mad from the excruciatingly pleasurable contractions.

You’re already being fucked roughly while you’re still coming down from your orgasmic high. You’re rocked against the flowers and the soft earth beneath, your peaceful surroundings a stark contrast to the raunchy act currently taking place among them.

Hawks leans in once again, and you have to turn away and hold your breath because you truly felt like one more whiff of that mouth-watering smell would bring you the most euphoric death. His mouth drew closer to your ear, harsh pants in sync with his rapid thrusts. There’s no way a body was meant to handle so much stimulation, yet you didn’t want it to end.

You wanted this powerful man and everything that he had. You want him to fill your womb with his seed…bear his strong and healthy offspring…then let him take you all over again…

There’s a soft rumble that brings you back down to earth, clearing your mind just enough so that all of your senses work properly again. The smudged colors return to their original shapes, and the cooing that vibrates through both of your bodies can be heard loud and clear. His song.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you right here. Just give in to me.” Hawks sounds on the verge of losing his voice, weak and graveled, but his singing and hips aren’t letting up.

Finally, fucking finally, the feathers release your limbs. Ignoring how boneless they feel, you use all of your strength to wrap your arms tightly around his neck, and your legs lock right above his ass. You cling onto him like a parasite and moan freely, trusting his low and soft vocals to keep you grounded as his citrus aura captivates you again.

Your involuntary clenches ruin him and take him to his peak, several more hard and deep pumps bringing you to your final climax. Both of you cry out loudly enough to scare away the tits still resting in the tree, the small flock flying off to find a quieter perch.

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

Good. That showed the little bastards.

Hawks smiled triumphantly as the small birds fled the erotic scene. Once he was certain that none of them were coming back, he returned his attention to you. Your chest heaved with each audible breath, your entire body drenched in sweat, just like his. He laid a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking lovingly as you close your eyes for much-needed rest after almost losing your mind.

He did it. He finally claimed you, and all he had to do was just show a little dominance…and expose you to a hefty dose of pheromones. It was clearly way more than you could handle—maybe the face-fucking wasn’t the best idea, but it looked like you were enjoying yourself enough. No harm done.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Hawks was a cool-headed man. He’s managed to stay calm and collected in the direst of situations. Still, when he slowly turns around to see a man dressed in the park’s staff uniform, blushing at the sight of a sweaty couple with no pants on among the innocent blossoms, he can’t help but feel just a wee bit fucked.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you? Wha-?” The poor guy is lost for words from the fact that he just found the number 2 hero banging someone in public.

Eh, he’s talked his way out of tighter spots.

With a smile, the winged hero sends a few feathers to his discarded pants and withdraws a pen from its pockets.

“How about a deal, buddy? An autograph from yours truly and a coupon for my merch. All you gotta do is walk away and forget what you just saw.”

#hawks #smut #birdbrain hawks #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #tw dubcon #tw animal harm

8K notes · View notes

justallofmyfandoms · 3 years

Text

Revenge is best served Small

Reader x Fred Weasley

Reader x George Weasley

NO TWINCEST!!

SMUT! SMUT! SMUT!

(Just to make this less awkward on all of us, yes I am clearly going through some stuff, and yes everyone enjoys what happens to them in this, even if it's reluctantly. Nothing unconsensual. 6,486 words)

[There’s a comment on this post that perfectly summarises it: “i have no idea what just happened to me all i know is that i will never be the same after reading this” so... read at your own risk my dudes, I am so sorry]

You slam a fist into the common room desk, glaring down at your potions homework with enough anger to perform the killing curse on it. Or maybe crucio would be better, just so the homework can suffer all the same pains it's inflicting on you.

A chair at the table scraps against the floor with someone plonking themselves on it. You look up to see Fred Weasley, leaning over the desk to stare down at your paper, "Having trouble with your potions essay?" He asks, evidently just to piss you off because it's pretty obvious you were.

"Bugger off, Weasley. We can't all pay zero attention during class and still get perfect grades" you focus back on your work, but not fast enough to miss Fred's shit eating grin.

"Still mad I got a better grade on our end of semester test?"

"No!" You snap back, perhaps a little too quickly. It made the ginger chuckle. You and the twins had been good friends since first year, but it infuriated you to no end every time they got a good grade, because you just knew it was all talent and no effort.

The twin crossed his arms and leant them on the table, scooting closer to you, "Not that I don't love the look of anger on your face, but why does it annoy you so much? You've been going on about this for six years"

"It doesn't matter, I just wanna get this stupid essay over with!" you complain, throwing your quill on the desk, "Where's your brother, anyway? He said he would help me."

Fred pats your head and sighs, "Ditched by your own boyfriend? There's tragic..." You knew he was just being a prick, Fred always did enjoyed teasing you, but you hadn't seen George all day. It was beginning to worry you. Besides, you two had made it a tradition to do your potions homework together ever since third year.

"He actually sent me here to apologise. He's at tonight's party up in Ravenclaw tower. The ol' sod's drunk a bit too much to help out I'm afraid"

You sit up and frown, the anger being pushed to the back of your mind out of newfound sadness, "Oh... he could have at least told me he was going to the party..."

Fred nods sympathetically, but eventually grins and scoots closer, "In the meantime, how about a deal?" You'll be getting whiplash from all these emotions. First anger, then hurt, and now Fred was making you highly suspicious. He has that expression he gets when dreaming up a crazy plan.

"If you help me with a little scheme I've concocted, I'll help you finish your essay" he continues since the only reaction you initially gave was a squint.

"What kind of scheme?"

He drums the table, bitting back a smile that might warn you off, "I've come up with a new product idea, but in order to make it, I need a very rare ingredient that can only be found in one place"

You sigh, resting your cheek against your raised fist, "Snape's supply closet..."

He points at you like in charades, "Exactly!"

"How do I know you'll actually help me? Making a deal with you is a bit like making a deal with the devil"

"We'll get the essay done tonight!" He declares, spinning the paper to face him, and picking up a nearby quill, "Then tomorrow, you'll help me get the potion"

After a fair amount of consideration, you nod, "Alright, deal!"

"Remind me again what the plan is?" You and Fred were stood in the women's bathroom on the first floor, a bathroom you generally tried to avoid as it was occupied by a particularly annoying ghost called Moaning Myrtle. She didn't seem to be revealing herself though, which you assumed had something to do with Fred teasing her about her nickname and the... other connotations "moaning" has.

Fred took a small vial from his trouser pocket. The contents were green and bubbling, "First, I'll drink this shrinking potion, then you'll take me in your robe pocket all the way to Snape's classroom and put me on the third shelf up next to his supply closet. I'll sneak in through the hole my brother and I drilled there years ago, grab the bottle and get out!"

"You mean you and George have done this before?" you asked, watching as he set the bottle down on the edge of the sink, taking off his robe to hang it over the cubicle wall

He turned back to watch him roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, "Yeah, every now and then if we need tough to find ingredients"

"And what exactly do I do?"

"Well, while I'm getting the bottle, you keep an ear out for Snape, then when I get out, you grab me and the bottle, put me in your robes and bring us back here so I can have my regrowth potion" he pulls another vial out of his pocket which is red and shiny.

"Sound good" you say, while he plonks the potion back into his pocket, and pops off the cork on the shrinking one.

"Bottoms up" he says, and downs the contents. The second he does, Fred begins to shrink! His clothes, thankfully, shrink down in size with him, until finally, he was no bigger than your pinky.

"Wow!" You exclaim, squatting down, "This is super dangerous. I could step on you."

"Please don't..." Fred mutters, his pitch the exact same despite his small size, just a bit quieter due to the distance and size of his mouth and all that. Damn, TV and movies have lied to you. A look of mild horror suddenly adorns Fred's face as he pulls something out from his trouser pocket. It's so small, you had trouble realising it was his regrowth potion, "Oh bugger! I forgot about that..."

You were tempted to lie down on your stomach and be as close as you could to eye level, but you doubted that would be very sanitary on the bathroom floor, "What's wrong?"

"I just realised I let the potion shrink with me! Now it won't work! It'll only grow me back to the size of a foot, if we're lucky"

"Speaking from experience?"

"Unfortunately." he shivers, "But it's okay, we'll just have to stop off at my room afterwards to get some more. I always make extra if I can afford to"

"Well that's good. Ready to go?"

"Absolutely" he held up his arms and you scooped him up like you would a wand. You got to your feet and were about to place him in your pocket when you noticed you still had your potions essay folded up inside. Fred had helped you finish it last night, the legend. Took you until 4 am to finish writing it.

You put him in your breast pocket instead, for fear that your robes might fly around too much and he might fall out, or that someone might bump into you and squash him. The breast pocket was at least hidden and safe. Besides, there were still two layers separating him from your actual boobs.

You opened the door and peaked your head through, checking to see if anybody was there. Nobody. Brilliant. Hurrying down the cobbled hallway, you B lined to the stairs leading down to the dungeons, and hurried to the classroom door. You and Fred had a free period right now, so that would explain why it seemed you and he were the only ones not in class. Despite how thankful you were for Fred's help, you wouldn't have skipped lessons to do this, it's risky enough as it is. Fast walking now, you peeped your head into Snape's office, where beyond it lay the door to his private stash.

"He better not come, Fred, or I'll squash you"

"Don't worry, he's in his lesson! Only got one potions teacher"

You thought this over and realised that yeah, there is only one... why the fuck do they only have one teacher for each subject? Do they get breaks? That's unlikely seeing as they have to teach all four houses in all seven years over the span of only five days a week. That's mental that is. Regardless, you would have the time to ponder this later, for now you had a potion to steal. You crept into Snape's office and shut the door, pulling out your wand and enchanting "Colloportus" to lock it behind you.

Fred really knew what he was talking about, because there were indeed shelves next to the closet door. The third one up was even covered with books, and when you grabbed Fred out from your pocket and plonked him on the shelf, he pointed to the dusty copy of 'The Moral Implications of Love Potions' and you took it out to reveal a hole behind it big enough for tiny Fred, “This looks like an interesting read..." you mutter, flipping over to read the blurb. There was a mini scoff, and by mini you mean it was produced by a mini person.

"Right, well, you have fun reading that, I'll search for the potion. Be back in a second" and he was off, disappearing through the hole. You sigh, fidgeting with anxiety at possibly getting caught. Doesn't make sense though, Snape is in class, he has no reason to come in here. When do lessons end anyway? You glance around for a clock but don't find any. Serves you right for not wearing a watch... would a watch even work at Hogwarts?

You flipped open the book and began reading a random page: Dr Eglantine proposed the following moral dilemma: if two people love each other but are too afraid to admit to one another, is it wrong for one of them to drug the other with love potion? Wizarding philosophers are torn on this issue, and when intercourse is involved, the grey area becomes even larger—

There was a loud bang from outside, which made your heart drop. You scurry over to the door, pressing your ear against the cool wood, holding your breathe in hopes of hearing better. The sound of students filled your ears, but not just a few students having a free period, but a whole herd of them. That could only mean one thing: class had ended... Oh fuck!

"Fred!" you cry out in the quietest panic you can muster, scurrying over to the hole, "Snape is coming."

"Almost... there!" Fred called between grunts, emerging with the bottle. You snatched it up, preparing to despose of it into your pocket when Fred raised a valid argument, "Don't put it in there! Snape will check your pockets when he finds you here!" He began downing his second potion, growing only to the size of a regular sized hand, "Damn"

"Oh, right" you scan your body for another hiding place, then the thought came to you. You shove the vial up your shirt and into your bra.

"Great, now me!" Fred exclaims, raising his arms up.

"I can't put you in my bra! You're too big, he'll see you!" You scoop him, holding his torso like a toothbrush.

He stares up at you in stunned confusion, "Really? That was what was wrong with that plan?"

You realised you ought to have said 'no you pervert I'm not letting you touch my boobs' but now wasn't the time to curse yourself for it. Your heart was hammering with fear, inspecting your body for somewhere to stash him. The doorknob rattled, and the sickeningly familiar tone of Snape's voice cursed that it was locked. Your time was up, there was only one thing for it! You pulled away the elastic of your skirt and stuck him down there,

“WOAH—!" He yelped, hair practically standing on end.

"Just hold onto the elastic along the outside and we should be fine!" You put him onto your outer right thigh, knowing full well that a pair of shorts and a pair of underwear and a whole thigh were separate him from... that.

"Alohamora!" the door swung open just as you were putting the book back, and there stood Snape, in all his emo glory. He froze, clearly having not expected to find anyone inside. Once the shock had left his system, he straightened up and glared at you, “What exactly do you think you are doing?" his nasally voice grilled, doing nothing good for your nerves, which were in absolute tatters at the moment.

"I was looking for you, w-when someone locked me in the class" you scramble, the lie just about the worst you could come up with. You had to remind yourself that Fred was on the outside of your thigh. Considering he was in your skirts at all, that was the most innocent position he could be in. All he had to do was hold on to the elastic of your shorts and you should be fine!

"Why?" he trudged further into the classroom.

"Why was I looking for you or why did someone lock me in the class—?"

"Why were you looking for me?" His booming voice told you that you were on thin ice.

"Ah yes, well, I... I was having trouble with the essay assigned for tomorrow, and thought maybe you could help me"

Snape closed the door and came to lean on his large desk, "Do you really expect me to believe that one of my students, who has never once asked a question in six years, is now asking a question?"

You frown, so suddenly insulted that you almost forgot about Fred on your leg, "Professor Snape, I ask questions all the time"

"Oh, how unmemorable you are then" he sneers, making you fume, "Regardless, I'm going to need to search your pockets"

You sighed, "Yes, sir"

He stalked over to you, holding out a hand for your robes. You pushed the sleeves off each shoulder, removing it, and dumped it into his palm. As he began to examine it, you felt Fred's shoes scrapping against your skin. It's as though he's trying desperately to find a foothold, no doubt still exhausted from having to push the bottle. If he falls, not only will you be caught, but Fred could get seriously injured!

Again, you knew what you had to do but hesitated to do it. As subtly as you could, you extended the elastic of your skirt, took Fred out, then plonked him into your shorts. His entire body went flush against yours, no doubt the skin tight shorts were crushing him. As long as there was no more risk of him falling... Hopefully it wasn't suffocating him though.

"If it's too tight, move" you hissed, keeping your eyes trained on Snape, who unfortunately heard you.

"What did you say?"

"I said—" you took a sharp breath, feeling Fred's back sink further into the fat of your thigh as he pushed away the area of fabric suffocating him, "If it's too tight, move" you repeated loudly for the two men in the room. "The pockets get a bit stuck sometimes so you have to jostle it around a bit" you added to give fake context to an instruction that wasn't even meant for Snape.

The shadowy teacher was evidently confused, but decided to ignore your outburst. Meanwhile, you could feel Fred inching along the front of your thighs, moving closer to your core. This was fine, as you didn't exactly want him to asphyxiate in your shorts, that would be a tragic way to go. You did hope, however, that he wouldn't overshoot his target, and fall into the abyss between the crotch and pant leg. Just as you had thought it, you felt the man slip. You gasped, pressing your legs a little closer together, enough for him to reach out and grab the first piece of fabric he could get his hands on. Unfortunately for the both of you, that piece of fabric were your panties. You wondered whether he knew what he was doing, when he began to scramble onto it, lying down flat onto the crotch like a hammock. Your question was quickly answered by the sensation of his arms sticking into your folds, and the subsequent wriggling of regret.

Sucking in a deep breath, you had to grip the nearby desk with all your might to stop a loud moan escaping your lips. Regardless of how bizarre and awful this situation was, having anything rub against your clit was an arousal waiting to happen. Poor guy must have though those were your shorts he grabbed before... You were just about to dig in and help, when Snape extended your robes back to you. You'd have to walk, with mini Fred mushed into you vagina, all the way to grab it. Praying he might forgive you one day, you stepped forward, effectively compromising Fred's escape, trapping him between your knickers and crack. Talk about getting stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Very well, I will take a look at your homework" and he rounded the desk, unfurling the essay he had taken from your pocket and sitting down in preparation to help. You swallow, approaching the table as he skimmed through it. He paused for a moment to look up, "Well, sit down" he ordered.

Staring down at the chair, you gulped. Every time you sit down during class, the skin tight shorts you wear, under your Hogwarts skirt, ride up into your ass. Having that happen right now is about as undesirable as they come, "Um, I'd rather not, if that's alright with you"

He blinked and looked back down at your work, "Well anyway, the beginning of your essay seems promising." You smiled, that was the part you wrote by yourself. Just wait until he gets to the part Fred helped you with. There were things he told you on the topic that you swore you had never heard before, you'll look like such an expert! Speaking of, the unfortunate blighter had given up on his attempts to leave, probably worried that his efforts might be thwarted again by your moving thighs. He was now using his hands and knees to keep himself pushed away from you. If you thought about it hard enough, you could convince yourself Fred was just a bumpy pad with a tuft of hair on the end... that moved.

Alright now body, I know you're an animal that listens to its instincts more than its brain, but please don't respond the same way you usually do when something— anything is pressing against you. You thought to yourself. We are not creating any new weird kinks today, thank you very much. Besides, the poor guy is going through enough as it is.

"You think Felix Felicis was created by Felix Williams... and that it contains balm, angel's trumpet, bitter root, and a single strawberry cooked under a full moon" he looked up from your work, pinning you with an expression of cold unamusement.

He must be testing you. Fred's a prankster but he isn't a dick... most of the time. He wouldn't. He couldn't! "Yes...?"

"Your Wolfsbane... does it contain any other nonsense ingredients I should know about?"

You froze, as did the guy in your pants. He must have heard, and Merlin have mercy he was going to pay for what he'd done!

This was just like that incident in fourth year all over again! You were in the showers after a quidditch match and Fred snuck in and stole your clothes and towel. When you realised you would had to run butt fucking naked all the way to your room, you were absolutely furious. Fred was lounging in the common room, along with twenty or so other people, and they all watched as you went gunning for the stairs. George felt awful, having not known his brothers prank, and offered to obliviate anyone who talked about it. It was then you realised Fred could be kind of a dick, and George was the man for you.

Fascinated by just how much Fredrick Weasley had fucked you over yet again, you decided to plop down on the chair opposite Snape. The moment you did, the skin tight shorts became skin tight. Fred's entire body went flush against yours, sending a delicious zap up your spine that attempted to summon a moan you coughed back, “Sorry, I wasn't trying to insult you with my work... I got a friend to help and it seems he was just taking the piss" Fred was moving, his chest bumping and smoothing over your clit. You had to actively try not to squeeze your thighs around him to increase the pressure.

George had bought you a dildo once as a "joke" (he just wanted to watch you wank yourself off, the kinky bugger) and you had run it between your folds, but that pailed in comparison to this. This was far better. Fred is made up of so many intricate parts, each of them squirming against you. His legs, for example, were kneading the source of your arousal. His shoes were in there now, using it as a foothold to try and push his way out. It was heavenly.

"Now I might remember you, as the girl with a poor judge of character" Snape interjected, pulling you out of your sexual haze. If the context were different, you might have gotten mad, but you couldn't bring yourself to at the moment. Not while you were getting oh so sweet revenge on a certain someone, "Well, for starters, dragon bone isn't an ingredient in any of these, so we might as well cross that off the list—" he took his red ink and began marking your paper. His voice became a distant drone in the background as you disassociated once against, focusing on how Fred had began shimmying his way to freedom. If only you could quicken his pace. If only you could rock your hips and fuck yourself against him. You weren't available to move, but he certainly was.

Leaving the one hand there on the desk, to rest your chin against, the other snuck under the table and under the hem of your skirt and shorts. Your fingers hovered above him, a little unsure what to do, until the index finger took initiative and pressed down onto his back through the pants. If he wasn't mushed against you before, he sure as hell was now. His hands slap your folds, but you could feel his head angled up for air. He should be fine.

You experiment by pushing him up. There his chin is triggering the most sensitive nerves of your clit! You roll your hips to savour it, using your thumb to squash his head down and create a more prominent friction. The round nature of his face and bumps making up his features created the most delicious rub. You had to loop your feet behind the desk's legs in order to stop your thighs from crushing him. When he slaps you for air, you reluctantly moved your thumb and pushed his body down. Now his feet were teasing your entrance with the sensation of being filled. You sat down more firmly onto your chair to shove him deeper inside of you. You pushed him up again, then down, up, down, repeating the gesture while his limbs squirmed, awakening new flesh with every swipe. Your middle finger joined the index's perch on his back to pick up the pace. You bit your lip and sucked a deep breath through your nose to push down all the noises that were bubbling to the surface. The only thing that could have moulded you any better than Fred would have been a literal mould. Even then, it wouldn't have been nearly so fun to hump.

You were now rolling him against you in deep tight circles. Your hips were swaying in time, and as much as you wanted to use your whole hand to rub him madly against you, you thought Snape might notice your entire arm thrusting under the table. Unconsciously, your thighs tighten around him, sucking him almost up into you. You lull your head back and arch into him, sighing in bliss. When Snape looked up, you snapped your head back down and froze, biting your fist in order to stop yourself whining in disapproval.

"Does that make sense?"

"Yes sir" what on earth were you agreeing to? You hadn't the foggiest.

"Then don't waste my time with useless garbage like this again. If you haven't produced a coherent, serious essay by tomorrow, I'll be deducting twenty points from your house. Now go!" He pointed to the door.

You had half a mind to snap back, but thought: to hell with him! You had things that needed your immediate attention, and no hooked nose, greasy hair, middle aged virgin was going to ruin that for you! “Very well, thank you sir" you stood up, and to your eternal disappointment, it loosened the strain of your clothes to unstick Fred from your cunt.

Exiting the class, you were devastated to find the hallway packed with students ready for their next potions lesson. The women's bathroom was just around the corner and up the stairs. All you had to do was get to it. You sped walked around the students, opting to push some aside rather than do any fancy footwork and likely squash the man inside of you. From the lack of movement, you guessed he had probably made peace with the situation. Luckily for you though, the movement of your walking kept banging him against you, and you had to stop yourself from dropping to the floor right then and there to grind him furiously against you.

When finally you had made it to the bathroom, casting "Colloportus" on the door for some privacy, you froze at the sight of someone stood inside with their back to you. You recognised those ginger locks straight away.

"George?" you called. He let go of the robe he was examining over the cubicle door and beamed, bounding up to you with all the excitement of a puppy.

"Darling! I've been looking for you everywhere, where have you been?"

What to say, what to say. You doubted rubbing your shrunk brother against my vagina in revenge would be largely acceptable, so you opted to white lie, "Oh, I needed Snape to help me with my potions essay"

George frowned, "Why'd you do that? I could have helped you. Can't imagine ol' hook nose was as fun as me"

"Well maybe if you weren't at that party last night—"

"What party?"

Judging by Fred's immediate scramble to break free, you imagined George was about to tell you something that would spell out very bad news for his twin. To stop his escape, you move a hand behind your back to fist your underwear and hoist it up, making it impossible to give way, "Fred told me you were at the Ravenclaw party last night..."

George's chocolate brown eyes widen in horror, immediately replaced by a scowl as he looked up to curse the air. Little did he know he actually should have been glancing down if he wanted to curse his brother. His squirming against you was making this entire thing leagues better, "What? Oh that prick! I was sick last night with a cold and sent him to apologise to you because I didn't want you catching it while Madam Pomfrey's sweets took effect"

Your cunt was fluttering in anticipation for what long and hard revenge you were about to take. Fred was scrambling so wildly, you couldn't wait to get down to business, "That asshat. He said you were drunk and convinced me to steal some stupid potion with him"

George's anger multiplied, "Bloody hell! I told him not to do that"

"What do you mean?" You were genuinely curious, but your body had literally no care in the world. It was hoisting your pants even higher to keep Fred glued there, wriggling your hips as your breathing became laboured.

George didn't seem to notice, "He was planning on making a thing of love potion with it. Told him it was a stupid idea and he was perfectly popular enough to get anyone he wanted without it. He's got hundreds of girls and guys in the past, I can't think of who he thought he needed to trick..." you consider it for a moment. That was a very good question, it's strange for Fred to care so much about someone... but this could be left for another time.

You hook your foot behind George's leg and brought it forward to wedge it in between yours. Without warning you hopped up and felt Fred immediately sink into your flesh. You doubled over, gripping George's shoulders, and moaning to savour the feel of being entirely and completely touched. George had to brace his hands against the door either side of your head to stop himself from falling over. In surprise rapture, he watched as you were already so unravelled. Finally, the surface you needed. Twins were supposedly two halfs of a whole, and never before had that sentiment rung so true. His leg was the missing component that pushed Fred so absolutely into you, no margin of error. All of him was rubbing against you now as you began humping without mercy.

You thrust yourself forwards and backwards, side to side, around in broad circles. Your folds accommodated him so well, stretching to make sure he always stayed between them. At times you were almost sure you could feel them curling around him, to keep him there as a permanent feature. Tempting indeed, he certainly made walking more fun, and imagine the possibilities in History of Magic. He could get you off under the table without anyone having a clue!

Fred was becoming slick with your arousal, lubricating him into slipping and sliding into usually unattainable flesh you never knew yearned for touch. And because of George's pressure under him, his hold on those neglected areas of your cunt was positively sinful. You throw your head back, your hands on George's shoulders, tugging up and down to massage yourself against Fred.

"What is that bump in your pants?" he finally questioned, having snapped out of his shock.

"Just a sex toy" you reply earnestly, making no alterations to your position.

There was a sudden sting on your clit that made you yelp and stop for a moment. Fred must have bit you... and it was incredible. You wondered whether you could get him to do it again, "It's loves being in there while I fuck myself with it. A tool for my pleasure" You were bouncing up and down like a rubber ball, poking him to react. He still wasn't doing anything to participate, but it was fine. You were doing more than enough for the both of you. All he needed to do was be there as you pounded yourself onto him. Then, your continuous lifting and applying onto him made his shoulder lodge so deep inside of you, you let out a howling moan, crushing George's lips to yours in order to muffle the sheer volume of the scream. He pulls your bottom lip into his mouth, urgently swiping his tongue against yours. You moan and put everything you have into the kiss, allowing him to dive in and taste you. George's lips began to wander, bitting, nibbling and sucking his way to your pulse. His hands came up to hastily undo your tie and shirt, pushing them aside to reveal your bare stomach. As he works your skin into his mouth, creating a glorious love bite on the swell of your neck, his palms fan out across your stomach. You take a sharp breath, as he caressed towards your bra, grinning against you when he notices it's the one he got you for Valentine's Day that unhooks at the front. Lucky coincidence, all your other ones were just dirty.

"I leave you for one night and you become a horny mess" George teases, his hands gliding down your sides to grip your hips. He nudged your legs apart, spreading you wider over your toy. Although he didn't take over the pace, he certainly sped you up. God you could have kissed him for knowing exactly how to whind up your pleasure. A shame then that his mouth was currently occupied with other things. You tangle your hands into his hair as he strokes your nipple with his tongue, pulling it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks to suck it hard. Your head lulled back to angle yourself further into him, whimpering at how close your climax was.

Seemed Fred was just as desperate to get it over with as you were. He was now doing everything in his power to jack you off. He had somehow managed to grasp your clit between his hands, and paired with your thrusting it created a borderline unnatural amount of pleasure. You were screaming with moans. But somehow more importantly than all that, he had his leg plunged inside of you.

That was it. The idea had been toying in your mind this whole time, but now you knew you needed him inside if you. "Wait a second George" you breathed, perching yourself a little higher in order to stick a hand down your panties, pinching Fred so his arms were trapped by his sides, and sliding him, feet first, through your entrance, until nothing showed of him but his head.

Head back, mouth open in an overjoyed groan, something in you snapped. You didn't even have to thrust him in and out. He was twisting, his arms and legs were flailing in the little space available to them. The walls were hugging his every curve, likely trying to suction him to the back. It was the combination of George flicking your nipple with his tongue and Fred massaging your insides that had you finally unravelling. Hot, slick, arousal came dribbling past what little gaps Fred’s body provided, and you went limp in his brother’s arms with one final howl.

George straightened up to hold you close, stroking your hair until you were ready to stand on your own again, “Nifty toy you got there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so animalistic” he chuckled.

Wiping the sweat of your brow off on your robes, you tried to make yourself look presentable again, smirking up at your boyfriend as you redid the buttons of your shirt, “Yes, well, nothing beats actual sex with you. Wanna go for a round two in your room?”

He beams, “Course! Want me to wait?”

“Nah, I’ll meet you up there” you gesture him away. Normally you would ask him to stay, but you had something to deal with first.

“Alright, see you in five” all excited, he ran for the door, then turned back just as he had performed the unlocking spell to give you a quick peak on the lips, then off he went.

Rummaging around in your shorts, you sigh as you unclog your hole, the contents stringing against Fred as you lift him to eye level. Merlin he looked awful. His fiery hair was stood on end, gelled up with your cum. His white shirt was practically transparent and clung to his abs as though it have been soaked in water. His eyes were a little bloodshot probably from liquid splashing into them, and his lips were rather swollen, like they would be after making out with someone for too long or too roughly. Just generally, your essence was rolling off of him in big globs. You placed your other hand to your mouth and giggled at his appearance, but he seemed the furthest thing from amused. His arms were crossed over his chest, a highly displeased scowl etched across his face.

“Oh don’t look at me like that!” you say, “If you hadn’t planned the robbery so terribly, or lied to me on twooccasions in the 8 hours proceeding it, getting me to write a whole 4 thousand word essay on things that were complete horseshit, humiliating me on front of Snape and—“

“Alright alright—!” He had softened up a little, averting eye contact, but you didn’t care.

“No! I’m not done!” That got his attention again, “Fred, you have been a dick to me for the past six years! Sure, you’re funny and can be sweet sometimes, but most of the time you don’t know where the line is! You prank me all the time, it’s relentless! And today you bloody pushed me over the edge. I had a perfect means of getting revenge and damn it I took it.”

He shrugs, “Whatever, I guess we’re even now”

You open your mouth to continue arguing but snap it shut when you realised what he had said. That really took much less convincing than you though, probably because you were feeling a smidge guilty for going so far in the heat of anger. It’s not like he orgasmed or anything... well if he did you wouldn’t be able to tell, his trousers were drenched, “Yeah, I guess...”

You waddled to the sink, turning both faucets on for lukewarm water, plonking him in the basin to clean off the sticky residue. You then hobbled into the closest stall to grab a wad of tissue and wipe yourself clean with it. Despite how absolutely caked in the stuff Fred was, you were still drenched. You exit the stall a couple of minutes later to find him completely washed down, "Right, let's get you back to your normal size, but let's put you in my pocket this time..."

"What a shame. I had really learned to call your vag my home" the sarcasm drooled from his lips.

You scooped him up, pinning him with a warning eye, "I'll put you back in there if you're not careful."

"Sorry sorry sorry!" he back peddled, extending his arms like a man about to be hit by an unforgivable curse. You gently lay him in your pocket, and snapped your head up to find Moaning Myrtle staring at you in disbelief.

"Umm..." the ghost muttered, for once in her life (or death) at a loss for words.

"Don't tell anyone what you saw here today, Myrtle" you warned, pointing a long threatening finger at her, "Not like they'd believe you anyway"

She nodded vigorously and dove into the nearest sink.

#giantess #giantess smut #fred weasley x reader smut #fred weasley x reader #geroge weasley x reader smut #fred weasley #geroge weasley #geroge weasley x reader #geroge weasley smut #fred and george #fred weasley smut #fred and george weasley smut #harry potter smut #fred weasley lemon #weasley twin smut #weasley twins smut #weasley twins x reader

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k3lynn · 3 years

Text

mine — katsuki bakugou

yandere! katsuki bakugou x reader

cw: yandere au, 3rd year bakugou, violence, reader got female genitalia, anger, off-“screen” murder, mention of (minor) character death, blood, lucidness, possessiveness, degradation, manipulation, stalking, threats, masturbation, implication of sex, swearing, assault, narcissism, horror, slightly delusional katsuki, panic attack, non con, mention of suicide

- I do not condone any of the behavior here, nor do I try to romanticize it. (definition: make it seem like a good thing) any future/current dark fics are purely for entertainment purposes. Also, I don’t think bakugou would EVER do this- I’m just using some dark traits he used to have and twisting them to fit this situation. Not completely proof read and edited, I am exhausted right now I’m sorry. I say some mean things about some characters but I don’t mean it 💗

words: 1.8k

𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 // 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚈𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

Look at me.

WHY WON’T YOU LOOK AT ME.

Poor little Y/N. You’ve caught the Big Bad Wolf’s attention. Ready to snatch you up and drag you into the deepest parts of the forest where no one will ever find you.

You’ll be all mine, and I’ll be the only thing you’ll ever have to see again.

You’ve been in the same class for 3 years now- and all he had to show for it is an occasional wave, and a shy little “Hi Bakugou” every morning that made his heart leap out of his chest.

Enough for most, but not for him.

In turn, he would tsk. Facing away and setting his head down on the desk- attempting to hide the roaring blush adorning his cheeks and the subtle shuffling in his pants- the way your voice alone could make his balls tighten in need.

Still- you give him merely a glance. He is always around you, but your attention is given to someone else.

Any extra would overlook his grumbling for typical-Katsuki doing his own thing. In reality, he’s holding himself back from snapping and taking you by force.

He wants you to come to him.

You have no reason not to. He’s perfect. Probably the best student to ever enter U.A. High, and on path to become the best pro hero to ever graduate from it.

Coming first in both the Entrance Exams AND the sports festival- a victory he still denies, holding some of the highest grades in class- 3rd only to some geek girl he could easily out-rank in combat and that shitty half n’ half. Even perceptiveness, intellect, and determination that can rival dumb Deku.

He even possesses great skills in cooking and music- Katsuki is a natural-born genius. Anybody who isn’t conscious towards his incredible talents might as well be living under a rock-

Unbeknownst to you, he’s giving you the generous chance to decide when you’ll be his. But his patience wears thinner every day.

It would have only taken a second to turn around in your seat and notice his piercing red eyes glaring at the back of your head.

So why don’t you notice me.

He doesn’t understand why it’s you he obsesses about. He can’t even remember when this whole mess started.

He tried denying his feelings. But quickly- they built up and festered inside him, begging to come out. Love, possessiveness, same thing.

Whether it be watching your twist and turn in the obstacle course- then running to the nearest bathroom to furiously grip his cock.

Snatching your chapstick when you’re not looking and rubbing it all around his own lips- imagining that’s what your lips would taste like if you just kissed him-

Restraining you during combat training by wrapping his arms around you- squeezing your breast a little more than necessary. Pinning you to the floor until you admit defeat.

Or even sneaking into your dorm while you’re in the shower to grab a new pair of panties from your dirty laundry, adding it to the stash he keeps hidden under his bed.

Stalking you. Keeping you close at all times without you even knowing it.

Indeed, he knows he’s a sick and twisted human being.

But by now he hardly cares- he’s worked too hard to ever even imagine of changing his perfect target. Nobody is more deserving of you than him.

So if he has to confront, threaten, and beat every single person in this stupid school to monopolize you for himself- he gladly will. Anyone who goes againts that is challenging him.

He scoffs anytime a boy approaches you- it’s well known around school that anyone who attempts to buddy up with you mysteriously ends up in a hospital room with no recollection of what happened. People even started seeing you as a sign of bad luck.

He’s nice enough to allow you some friends though. But only ones who will guarantee you’ll be around him as much as possible.

So you sit with him, Kirishima, racoon eyes, dunce face, and tape boy in lunch. No one else. Right in front of him.

You’re chatting away with Mina, but unusually, something special came up in conversation.

He always stays focused on his lunch- switching between listening in and day dreaming about bending you over the lunch table and grinding on your ass-

Katsuki’s stomach dropped. His eyes widened- what did Mina just say?

There’s a boy in the management department, a quirkless 2nd year nobody smart enough to somehow get into U.A.

And he asked you out on a date after school.

Shit.

No.

No no no no-

No- this isn’t how it’s supposed to-

My throat burns.

When did he- when did you-

You’re going to say no, right?

I cant breathe.

You don’t like anyone- I know this

I know everything about you- I-

My chest hurts-

You’re mine.

And if he thinks I’ll share then I’ll-

“Mina stop being so loud please...” your delicate little voice whispered.

The rest of the table already took notice of what was going on- bombarding you with questions that made you flustered.

“Woah woah- Y/n, what’s your answer?” dunce face peeps out, Bakugou swore he could smack that grin off his face right then and there.

Katsuki turns to look at you again- a chill traveling down his spine once he made eye contact, but your stare quickly fell to the floor.

“I’m not sure yet- probably not.. ha.” You shrugged- a light pink dusting over your cheeks. The others, satisfied, dismiss the topic.

Had it have been anybody else observing, they wouldn’t have thought much of it. But Katsuki knows you like the back of his hand. Successfully deceiving him would be harder than taking down All For One.

You’re lying... aren’t you? In front of him too- All because of this quirkless fucking loser-

Katsuki hates lies.

I’m going to kill him.

The walk back to your dorm was disappointing to say the least. But you can’t expect someone to be in the best of moods when they’ve been stood up.

You almost couldn’t believe it either- he had seemed so kind and genuine that you stood there for an extra 2 hours. But that’s your luck with boys-

‘I hope you got a good laugh out of it, jerk.’ You huffed before inserting the key into your rooms lock.

Turning on the lights, you allow your eyes to adjust for a moment before stepping inside and walking to your desk.

“You were waiting for that jackass for so long I almost started thinking you would never come back...”

You let out a startled cry before dropping your keys and whirling around in a flash- recognizing Katsuki’s back as he slowly closes the door.

“Bakugou? Why are you-“

“was he really that special.”

“What do you mean was....“ It’s then you noticed the blood dripping down his arms and hands- your door decorated with the same shade of crimson.

“oh my god.. Bakugou,”

That’s why the poor boy never showed up.

You knew about Katsuki’s “little” crush on you for a while now. His stares weren’t exactly the most subtle after all-

You found his uncertainty adorable, heck, a part of you was waiting for him to confess. But you would have never imagined his infatuation went this far.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll never love you as much as I do.”

He lifts his head, and your eyes meet his. Bloodshot- as if he’d been crying, but the evident smirk on his face showed nothing but pure malice.

“Not that he’ll ever get the chance to anyways”

He’s too fast, too close to the door, he has all the advantage in this situation. But you have to try. You have to leave this room at this very moment or you may never make it out alive. There’s no reasoning with him.

You clutch your heart. He steps forward, and you instinctively bolt to the door.

A few easy moves and he has you pinned by the neck on the ground, legs bent and used to hold your arms from jerking too much. His free hand is outstretched, creating small explosions that made you automatically stiffen your movement.

“Bakugou please- I won’t ever tell anyone, we can forget about this and I’ll pretend it neve-“

“I don’t need you to be quiet. I’m the boy who rejected a direct offer from the League of Villains, one of the best students in U.A. high- even if you do rat me out, they’ll never believe you...”

His grip on your neck tightened- nails cutting through skin and little droplets of blood start showing up. His hand starts heating up and a panic courses through your veins.

“I’ll kill you before they even begin to suspect me.”

Choked sobs escape your lips from the pain and fear surging through your body- “I- I thought you said you lo-loved me.”

“I do... that’s why you’ll be mine forever.”

He leaned down, low enough for you to feel his warm breath- then used his tongue to sadistically lick off the tears running down your cheek, a salty but satisfying flavor entering his mouth.

“In this life, and the next. It’s up to you when we see the later.”

You nod, hoping he relaxes the pressure on your neck. His face softens, something you swore you would never see in Bakugou. He releases his hold.

“You made me mess up your neck, next time don’t be so mean.”

He tilted your chin up, observing the scratches and bruises littered all around it. As soon as he determines there’s no serious injury, he picks you up to lay you on your bed. Climbing in next to you and wrapping an arm around your hips.

“Couples cuddle like this all the time don’t they.”

You gave him silence, although he didn’t mind. With one glare he had you shuffling to move closer to his chest.

“they also kiss.”

You know that right now, there’s no point in fighting. So you give in to what he wants in hopes that one day, you’ll break free from the hold he secretly had on you for so long. You’ll play along. You’ll survive.

You shudder as his hands reach to cradle your cheek, wiping the blood of the boy all over it. He loved it. It proved he won. He gave a light kiss to your lips before attacking your neck, set on putting a new type of bruise on you.

“You should start calling me Katsuki.”

“Ka- Katsuki.” You barely managed to whimper out.

He caresses your hair, cooing soft whispers into your ear in an attempt to calm your sniffling. An action you would have seen as sweet if it weren’t for the constant threat of death over your shoulder.

Your breath hitches in horror as you feel his warm hands trail down your body, gripping your smooth inner thigh before delicately starting to drag his fingers up.

“You know...

You silently beg for him to stop.

“There’s one more thing couples do.”

-if anyone is interested- should I make a part 2? (Future edit, I’m not satisfied with this, I might end up rewriting in the future)

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