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#tender is the flesh hater
thechaoticreader · 6 months
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Popular Books I Read and HATED
*Disclaimer: If you like any of these books, slay! I'm happy for you! These are just my own consumer choices, and imo negative book reviews are just as helpful as positive ones!*
This list is not long because I don't actively dislike many books that I read, and I have a very good sense of what I will and will not like, but there are some I had to read/were misled into reading so here we go:
1. Tender Is The Flesh
by Agustina Bazterrica
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My rant review is above if you want more details but recently I've seen a few videos that articulate my feelings in a way that I couldn't before so im going to add a few reasons here that were not included in the original post:
It gave very Qanon and general antisemitic vibes: i.e blatant conspiracy made up by the "wealthy liberal elites" to encourage cannibalism for their own enjoyment (I know she's Argentinian however that doesn't mean im not allowed to get the ick from it)
Purposefully inaccurate depictions of meat industry and disrespect for farmers (context: im a vegetarian from farm country with a roommate who works in the cattle industry - Angus beef if you're curious - so im very familiar with the process and cannot say in good conscious that it is all bad -> just support local farmers <3)
world building makes little sense
COWS DO NOT EQUATE TO HUMANS NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO !!!!!!!!
the "disease" doesn't make sense (even if its made up who would believe it)
No themes were treated with the depth nor nuance they require (capitalism, feminism, veganism etc.)
I think thats all I haven't covered but this is the only book I have ever read where my hatred of it continues to grow with each day. I went out of my way and deleted it from my reader and get annoyed every time I see it. And for the record (because yes i'm salty) I didn't hate it because it was too disturbing, in fact I've read and loved worse and ive been an avid horror reader since I was (admittedly too) young. I hate it because there wasn't a well done story underneath the gore. I'll say it loudly for the people in the back GORY HORROR BOOKS STILL DESERVE A GOOD/INTERESTING STORY, especially if you want to try to put complex themes in it. If you cannot write a deep story but you're good at and enjoy gore, write yourself a lil 100 page splatter punk and we can all have a good time <3
Unlike with Tender Is The Flesh I don't have a ton of thought out critical reasons for the rest of these soooooo I'm going to give my highly subjective reasons -> I totally understand why some like them <3
2. The Handmaids Tale
by Margaret Atwood
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hated the writing style
It didn't keep my attention
disliked the ending so much I actually threw it across the room <3
3. The Hobbit
by J.R.R Tolkien
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hated the writing style
male centered fantasy is not my vibe
my ADHD cannot handle long incredibly descriptive sections in books -> I physically fell asleep multiple times while reading this book
honestly even with the movie I fall asleep every time
0/10 book I want to read
10/10 bedtime story
4. Lord of The Flies
by William Golding
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hated the writing style
hated most of the characters (and not in a slay anti-hero way)
was forced to read it in high school and it single handedly sent me into a 4 year reading slump... I missed so many good books because of this and will forever hold a grudge
5. Romeo & Juliet
By William Shakespeare
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I'm too jaded and gay to enjoy this -> every single character is so painfully stupid
tbh im just bitter that his (imo) better plays get less love than this one, its way over hyped
but I will give it points for boring me so much that I wrote my first fanfic (Romeo x Mercutio if you're curious ... no its not posted anywhere and it never will be <3)
sidenote -> Shakespeare plays I love incl:
Hamlet (duh im a depressed emo gay on Tumblr)
Macbeth (also duh, witches and female manipulator... need I say more)
Othello (a slow burn for the true crime girlies)
Measure for Measure (absolutely underrated, please please please look into this play -> I saw a production of it and it was incredible)
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yandere-daydreams · 8 months
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snow leopard satoru wanting to catch you, but you keep hiding behind suguru. and finally satoru goes to suguru and asks him to share, and then the next time you're being chased by satoru and hide behind suguru you're in for a rude awakening (aka getting sandwiched between the two of them, and they 'share' )
:D
i'd like to think that suguru is, ultimately, a good pet owner (and more importantly, a die-hard satoru hater), so he does largely brush off satoru's comments about showing off his cute little mate and break up the little ""play fighting"" sessions satoru pulls you into (even if it means letting you cling to his side while satoru whines and yowls from a few feet away), but when he comes home to satoru fucking you properly, his cock splitting open your smaller, softer body, your pitchy mewls and cockdrunk moans filling his apartment - his restraint doesn't completely snap, but it's hard to keep thinking of you as his innocent kitten after he's heard you begging for his long-term companion's cum. your little fangs and poor self-control make it too dangerous to try and fuck your throat, so he just crouches near your head, raking his fingers through your hair and scratching at the base of your ears while satoru ruts into you, his teeth sunken into the tender flesh of your shoulder and his purring almost obnoxiously loud. he might not join in right away, but he will let you bury your face in his lap while you sob and sniffle and cum on satoru's cock for the nth time.
after satoru's had his fill, he'll even pull you into his arms and drag you into a warm bath; taking stock of all the bitemarks and bruises painted across your chest, your neck, your thighs while you nuzzle into him and ramble half-consciously about how much you hate it when satoru 'bullies' you. even when you inevitably fall asleep curled against his chest, he's not going to be able to stop thinking about how small you looked underneath satoru, how wide he stretched you open.
he's not going to be stop wondering just how tiny you'd look, pressed against him.
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katsukikitten · 10 months
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Izuku doesn't have many vices, mostly because he doesn't allow himself to indulge in any. Thinking them more as nasty habits or stains on his perfect PR record than anything else. Like headaches he'd rather avoid or didn't seem worth the bashing he'd receive from fans and haters online.
But that didn't mean he never indulged.
Especially with the weight of being the number one hero pressing down onto his broad shoulders, pushing him further into his sulking as he drapes himself over the smooth bar top. Half finished handle of liquor under his scarred palm, swirling the last dredges of the clear liquid inside as he thinks about ordering another.
Izuku was only here at this tiny lively bar in the small forgotten prefecture of Tokyo because Kaminari dragged him here. The electric blonde wasn't sure if Izuku had a girlfriend or not, he knew his occasional hero partner to be secretive about his love life which was the opposite of Kaminari who often advertised just how single he was. Denki dragged the hulking hero because Izuku needed to “live a little” and it was “cuffing season.”
Izuku didn't know what that meant.
Googling it is how he finds himself on the brink of a spiral with his perfectly white teeth sinking into the inside of his lip before his tongue laps at the metallic tang that floods his mouth.
It doesn't stop his teeth from sinking into tender flesh, it doesn't stop him from swallowing down more burning booze or sighing loudly.
He just can't stomach the thought of having to face his mother without a date during the holidays again this year. Don't mistake this concern for self pity nor vanity. Izuku is not the type of man who thinks he deserves to have people fawning at his feet, hell the man often grappled with feeling deserving of his given quirk on a daily basis more often than not.
But the way his mother looks when she opens the door, how her big smile drops the slightest when Izuku shows up and no one is there under his arm or holding his hand. Or awkwardly smiling as they meet his mom and Yagi-san for the first time even though they'd been dating for a good long while.
Izuku is just too busy, he doesn't mean to be, tried to board his PTO to take a long hiatus or two from work so he could dote on his partner.
But nothing was ever good enough.
He couldn't face that look of worry or concern from his mother, not again.
It wasn't for lack of trying on Izuku's part either, blind dates arranged by his mother or friends, even the agency! Dating app after dating app leading to dead ends or lack of intimacy leaving Izuku to feel hollow, desperate, enough to seek out other lonely heroes that wanted nothing more than sex.
Still he took everything seriously, maybe too seriously, and things just never worked out.
Yet the hopeless romantic in him never wavered and he thought he had one last shot at love when the hero agency set up an arrangement for a PR girlfriend to keep his ratings high. Izuku did everything in his power to make it work, to try to fall genuinely and deeply in love with the pretty woman who he shared his apartment with. Taking her on dates to places like the movies or to see the Sakura. Fucking her on his couch, in his car, over his dining room table after pushing away the dinner she made.
But each action only made him feel empty, more so than before. There was no spark between them, at least not on his end and Izuku couldn't stomach the idea of leading her on. Especially not when Izuku saw hearts forming in her eyes from more than just sex.
It ended in a mess when she confessed she loved him while straddling his lap and he went soft inside her. Fat tears threatening to fall that he blinks away before she gets up to slap him, he doesn't feel anything.
She breaks her fingers.
Breeching her contract that Izuku buys out when the agency threatens to sue her, the only time the commission head ever saw Izuku's bright emerald eyes narrow and darken.
He doesn't understand why he can't keep anyone around, he begins to think he is the problem.
That maybe his expectations were too high? Maybe he didn't devote enough time? Or maybe he really truly didn't feel anything when he was with any of the men and women he dated in the past save for one.
He expected love to be like the movies and of course Kaachan called him a dumb ass for it. That romantic sappy shit, movies that Izuku and Katsuki had watched curled together on Izuku's couch, “weren't fucking real.”
Only for the blonde traitor to move in with a woman he knew for less than six months when Katsuki kept telling Izuku it was too soon to move in with him despite them secretly fucking for a year and knowing each other all their lives.
Izuku finished the second half of his bottle.
His phone demands attention, chirping from the pocket of his jeans as Kamianri’s laugh echoes over the confined space. Izuku reads the banner on the illuminated glass, the text is from his mother.
Is it just you this year, honey?
Before a second one comes through.
Yagi is asking so we know to put the leaf in. We don't mind when you bring extra company. Kaachan and his girlfriend were a pleasant surprise last year.
But I'll be more than happy to just see my son.
Guilt floods his system, heavy in his chest that it forces a groan from his throat. Idle hand coming to clampe and squeeze harshly at the nape of his neck. Finger shaped bruises forming under thick digits in the hairline of his undercut, his emerald curls doing little to hide it. As the pain ebbs pleasantly down his spine he thinks to pat down his jeans seeking out the familiar rectangular outline before he slides off of the wobbling stool.
Pushing open the heavy door to the secluded alley with ease, mind sharp and feet steady as he looks around. Alcohol never had much effect on him due to his large stature and even larger metabolism leaving him to drink an obscene amount of booze before he felt a pleasant buzz. Tonight he hadn't had nearly enough to ease his shattered heart.
Jagged emerald eyes cut through the alley before he lets the tension in his shoulders release but not enough he'd be off guard. He remembers Stain and his legacy, he knows society still remembers the hero killer too. Knows that most heroes don't necessarily die in action but when they're most vulnerable. Throats slit while they were asleep, fucking, or stepping out into a dark alley in the middle of the night for a smoke.
The thought does little to soothe the aching need in his throat, to feel the burn that could dissolve the lump that sits uncomfortably behind his Adam's apple. Pulling out the half crushed pack of cigarettes and placing one between his lips. Dark orange lighter flickering to life as he rolls over the steel and flint before he takes a deep breath.
Only to instantly regret it.
Stale smoke clots his lungs and coats his tongue, still the acrid taste doesn't stop him from pulling another drag. Mind wandering far beyond where he stood, willing the smoke to smother his hopeless heart.
“Didn't you have a campaign ad against those?” You purr, watching the bulky man tense as his head snaps up to face you.
Izuku hadn't seen anything and his danger sense didn't go off when he surveyed the alley but it does now. A tingling in the soles of his feet as he looks up at you shrouded in the shadow of the neighboring building on the fire escape a foot or so next to his head. You jump down with ease and lean against the rough brick wall next to him. Close enough your elbows touch.
Watching the giant of a man fumble over the stick in his mouth making a cruel smile form on your own.
“Number one hero smoking, tsk tsk, what if I'm an impressionable young lady?” You giggle and it clings to Izuku's skin more than the stale smoke, he scoffs.
“You act as if you don't have a vice.” He glances down at you from the corner of his eye before tilting his head up to blow the smoke away from you.
“Everyone has a vice Mr Deku.” Brandishing your cherry tootsie pop you seemingly pull from thin air. Making a grand show of pocketing the bright red wrapper before popping it past glossy lips, eyes glued to the hero hiding outside the alley of the no name bar.
You imagined he'd be in uptown places, where the silverware was gold plated and a shot of patron was twenty dollars. Not here with the ripped leather seats held together with faded duct tape and cloudy glasses.
But here he stands in black jeans, a gray graphic tee with black sleeves from an undershirt rolled up past his thick forearms, smoking no less. The only expensive thing on him is his watch, it makes your fingers twitch.
You roll the sucker around in your mouth, letting it clink your teeth as you watch him, a harsh line for a mouth that smiled so brightly on the news this morning.
Did all heroes do this? Look pathetic in dark alleyways smoking overly stale cigarettes hoping no one sees them? He looks down at you with a calculated, cold gaze, if you were any other woman it would send a shiver down your spine. Especially from how it contrasts to his normally bright gemstone eyes now they looked clouded, jaded with unspoken emotion.
You think it serves him right, yet still your clawed hands bring out a pack of unopened cigarettes from the pocket of your oversized jacket tilting them towards the hero.
“Take these. Those have gotta be at least a year old. They don't make the packaging with the small warnings anymore.” You crinkle your nose at him, his normally doe like eyes narrow as they rove over you harshly before he quirks his brow.
It's kinda cute how bitchy he looks. You swat away the thought and he thinks he's bothering you with his smoke.
“I thought you didn't smoke.” He moves the stick further away from you.
“I don't. I lifted them off the electric blonde you came with. He's a terrible flirt you know.” Cat smile forming around the lollipop sick in your mouth, watching Izuku's eyes flash in warning, it makes you giggle, “Gonna arrest me?”
“Stealing is wrong.” He stubs out his half smoked cigarette, it disintegrates against the brick from its age and not the pressure he applies.
“So’s lyin.” A smiling retort as you shake the fresh pack at him, “I'll even pick your lucky.”
He looks down at his old ragged emergency pack with only the lucky looking back up at him. Bent and half broken from the argument he had with Katsuki almost a year ago about how Izuku couldn't stomach just sex anymore.
Looking up at you but before he can accept the offer you're already gently patting the pack against your palm, pulling the golden plastic that acts as a guide to take off the wrap from the box. Picking his lucky at random and flipping it upside down before you pass the pack to him. He sighs and takes the box, looks down at the fresh pack and looks back up at you. Sees your smug smile.
“Thanks. Going to black mail me now?” He decides he should have another since his first one was so awful. Pulling the dark orange lighter from his pocket to start a good ember.
“No, I think I've got enough collateral.” Flaunting his expensive, classy watch on your wrist. Well about mid forearm for you, “Secrets safe with me.”
Instinctually his broad palms slaps his wrist where his watch should be, as if he doesn't believe his eyes. Glancing back up at you again wholly expecting you to be already at the mouth of the alley but you stay close to him. Well within arms reach and step closer to him still.
He blows the smoke up into the sky again, keeps the cigarette on the opposite side of you.
“I've got more expensive ones in my apartment.” He comments it almost comes off flirty until you see how sad his emerald eyes look. Izuku wants to ‘be a man', wants to take you home and fuck the brains out of your pretty head but his heart swells in agony, he sighs out more smoke.
“Is this you trying to take me home? Ooo so heroes do have one night stands!” A teasing nudge to his ribs, he doesn't even budge, just moves the burning stick up higher so the smoke won't stick to you.
“I don't do one night stands.”
“Then why invite me to see your expensive watch collection hmm? Tryin to get me to steal your heart instead?”
“Maybe I am.” His gaze flickers to you again, holding your eyes as his lids are at half mast.
Did anyone even know the number one hero could give fuck me eyes?
“Steal my heart, be my girlfriend.” He looks down at you, sees what he registers as panic, “Just through the holidays.”
You blink up at him for a moment as he studies you. Drinks in how those black skinny jeans cling to your thick legs, how the fishnets do little to keep his thoughts pure and that little lingerie you wore as a top had his dick twitching. Left fist clenching when his eyes look over a man's leather jacket on your broad shoulders.
He thought about all the jackets he owned so he could replace the well worn garment on your shoulders with his own.
“I'll pay you.” Taking a long drag, feeling desperation claw up his throat competing with the burn of nicotine, “Pay you a lot more than what that watch is worth.”
The idea of it makes you laugh loudly, the pretty sound echoing around the alley as you grip onto his forearm for stability. He had to be fucking drunk, there was no way he was asking a theif to be his fake girlfriend, what was this a shojo manga?
But when you look up at him and see his freckled cheeks flush with embarrassment you swallow down the rest of your mirth.
“Oh you're serious.” Pulling the cherry sucker from your mouth, letting your lips pop around it lewdly, Izuku watches with close emerald eyes his mind wandering down places it shouldn't, especially not with a woman he's just met. Still thick digits twitch as he tries not to palm himself roughly.
“What the number one hero can't get a girlfriend?” You deadpan and this time it's his turn to laugh except there isn't any joy in it.
“Ha. No. Haven't you heard? I'm too much of a ‘fucking nerd.’ Guess Kaachan was right.” He stubs out his cigarette before pocketing the butt since there was no tray in the back alley.
His admission gives you pause, pressing the cherry confection back on your tongue roughly before you pull it into your mouth taking it from manicured nails. Pushing the sucker to poke out your cheek making Izuku's long lashes flutter.
“Kaachan?’ You giggle, looking up as you move the sucker from one side of your mouth to the other with your tongue. Hard candy clacking against your teeth, “You mean Katsuki? That's Dynamight’s given name right?”
Shit shit shit! He hadn't meant to call him that! How did you figure it out so quickly!
“Oh! Oh please don't say anything!” He looks mortified and you watch his cheeks turn as red as your tongue.
“Don't worry Zuzu. Your secret is safe with me.” Crunching down on the last thin layer before the taste of chocolate coats your tongue swallowing the Tootsie roll and Izuku watches your Adam's apple bob while his mind swirls with dirty thoughts.
Thoughts so dirty he almost misses you add,
“Gonna need bigger pay to keep quiet.” Nails tapping his watch, “Sides can't say I'll be a good girlfriend. I hate everything after Halloween. My birthday included.”
“What? Everyone loves the holidays!” He's shocked you've said that and you shake your head.
“No, everyone with good or whole families love the holidays.” You correct and he looks down at you with a frown. Already you pick up on a habit of his, teeth worrying the inside of his lip as he thinks, “I currently have neither.”
“Oh I'm-”
“Don't. I don't need the mighty hero’s pity.” You scoff, sounding a little jaded before you fix your face, turning to a joke as another smile pulls at your pretty lips, “Not when I can take his money instead.”
“Cute.” He scoffs sarcastically, still he can't deny the flutter in his stomach.
“You're kinda bitchy ya know that?” You smile, “The media makes you out to be Prince Charming.”
“I don't look like Prince Charming?” He gestures to himself and you laugh loudly again. He can't help the heat that creeps up his throat.
“Bet you fuck like Prince Charming too. All vanilla and boring.” Struggling to stifle yet another giggle.
“If you accept the offer to be my girlfriend you can find out if that's true or not.” Quickly his demeanor changes, emerald eyes darkening as they slowly drag up and down your body with a sinful gaze. The sight of him looking down his nose at you makes your stomach clench. You shouldn't be considering his offer now from one intense gaze. A hero and a morally gray person never worked out and it was only a matter of time before your thievery caught up with. You really shouldn't but you know what they say.
Curiosity killed the cat
“Fine. I'll be your little girlfriend til new years. When do we start?”
“Tonight.” He leans close letting his large hand slide down your forearm to your wrist til his fingers are lacing with yours, “It's so late, I really should get you home, shouldn't I baby?”
Emerald eyes sparkling with promise that he planned to devour you whole the second the two of you stepped foot into his penthouse apartment.
“Yes, you should. It is so very late."
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“Oh my god IZUKUUUUU fuck fuck fuck!” You scream as you grind onto his handsome face, cumming on his skilled tongue for the umpteenth time in the half an hour you've been in his apartment. Mauve nails around his throat as you choke him slightly, shamelessly riding his face to prolong your high, not that he would dare interrupt it. Groaning loudly under you as he slowly yanks at his fat long cock that leaks with pre. Hungry eyes watching him as you let out another breathy moan.
“Fuck and you've never had a girlfriend before?” he laughs in your cunt at your question. Strong hands coming to lift you off his face with ease so you can hear him better.
“I know I said I was a nerd but I never said I was a virgin.” Before he roughly adjusts you back on his cute freckled face, slurping your clit roughly as mock punishment for interrupting him. Your eyes cross and your thighs squeeze his head.
“Fuck.” You whine and he's rewarded with more of your slick as you cum again, Izuku already decided that he loves how you whine curses for him. Feels you start to slump from the pleasure as your body melts, offering you his hand to support you better as you grind into his face before you can't anymore.
Before this insatiable man lifts you with ease, flipping you onto your back when the needle of the record player hits the center of the vinyl. Pressing you into the dark couch with his pelvis as he wets his cock by grinding into your sticky folds, making you gasp out like he wants before he's gently cradling your throat, slipping his tongue into your open mouth as he groans.
“We taste so good together.” He growls, the sound makes you see stars, especially as his fat cock head nudges against your abused clit. Catching your fluttering entrance and it makes you both shudder before he angles himself properly. Slowly sinking in and watching your face for any signs of pain or displeasure. Watching your eyes roll with each passing moment before he rested against you. Giving slow, rough thrusts that grind down into your clit that have your hands shaking at his back as claws struggle to find purchase in his skin.
“And you're telling me these girls didn't stay for the dick either? Fuck Izuku!!!!” Arching your back, if you weren't careful you'd become addicted to him, your question makes him hide his face into your throat.
“Guess sex isn't enough.” He mumbles against your tacky skin.
“That or you're not telling me something.” You gasp at the end, when he keeps hitting that spot and makes you cum each time. Makes a deep tension in you dissipate until you feel as if you're floating, you wouldn't be able to speak much longer.
He thinks you'll pull away but instead you thread your fingers into his sweaty curls to bring his face to yours. To look deep into his eyes even if you struggle before you seal your lips with his. Letting your tongue slide over his until you moan his name into his mouth.
“Oh fuck Izuku, you have to cum in me now. Fuck fuck you're throbbing.” Your cunt clamps down on him at the thought of his warm seed spilling into your milking cunt. He pants over you, still keeping that steady slow roll of his hips but how you squeeze him makes him insane. Makes his hips finally speed up before his pace turns sloppy.
His moans turning into loud grunts as he fucks you with enough vigor the legs of the couch scrape against the expensive hardwoods until he's cupping your throat again but never squeezes. Looking down at you and you don't dare look away as you watch his long lashes flutter, the sight makes the coil in your stomach snap again. Feel him paint your cunt in pearly strings of white before he slowly lowers himself on shaking arms, giving your throat a tender squeeze before he rests his head in the crook of your throat, he hadn't intended for the two of you to fuck already. Hell he didn't even mean to rip off your jeans and set you on his face so he could show you that he really wasn't boring.
And he sure as fuck didn't meant to fill up your pretty cunt with his spend.
“What are you doing to me?” He pants playfully, kissing at your thudding pulse point.
“Stealing your heart, remember?” A breathless giggle as the two of you lie like that until his cock begins to soften. He sighs, slowly gets to his feet before he's lifting you into his arms, it makes your cheeks warm, especially when you look down at the soaked fabric of the sofa.
“I think we ruined your couch.” He laughs at your joke.
“Ts fine, the covers are machine washable.” He nudges his nose into your cheek and you giggle before he's setting you on the edge of the tub as he starts the shower for you.
“Here's how to adjust the water temp if you need it hotter. Most women love it scalding.” He takes a step back, moving to grab for a fresh towel for you. You try not to let your heart sink when you realize he isn't going to join you.
“Oh a real casanova huh?” He rolls his eyes at your playful jab before he steps into his bedroom to give you privacy for the time being. Fishing out a T-shirt and clean boxers for both himself and you to sleep in. Laying yours out on the bed as he smells his body wash float from under the snowy glass door. It makes him smile as he thinks of how you'll smell like him until he takes you to gather your things from your place tomorrow, that or he'll buy you whatever you want or need.
For now he'll relish the idea that you, his fake girlfriend, gets to smell like him, your fake boyfriend.
After awhile you come into the room, clean and pristine, movement catching Izuku's eye of course. When you meet his eyes you smile, give a little twirl.
“It's Chanel.” Letting your fingers adjust the hem of the regular cotton towel and Izuku laughs.
“Is it? Lemme see.” He rises, holds your hand to twirl you again as he looks down at you with a smile, “Perfect fit.”
“Thank you.” You giggle again, feeling shy for the first time under his heavy gaze. Watching the corner of his lips tilt upward before he points out the clothes he left out for you and slips into the bathroom. Surprisingly you don't hear the lock click to the door, Izuku was either far too trusting or he truly did not see you as a threat to his life.
Quick to change into the oversized, old shirt and boxers before you take this opportunity to explore his penthouse now that the six foot four man wasn't pressing himself up against you.
Tiptoeing out of his room even if you knew you didn't need to, whetting your curiosity first with the living room that was adorned with ceiling to floor windows to the left when you first came in. Your breath fogging the window as you look over the cityscape. A snaking inky black cuts through the bright lights, the wide river bed reflecting the lights back in swirling currents giving the scene the stars the sky lacks.
Even this late at night the prefecture is teaming with life, you wonder if it's exhausting for him. To sonder over the lives that carry out beneath his feet. If he wonders if he can save them all.
If he knows he can't.
The needle of the record player bumps against the middle of the vinyl again pulling you from your thoughts.
“Oh.” You squeak, tiptoeing to the old thing and gently lifting the arm. Finding the album cover and slipping the vinyl in with ease before shutting off the player. Eyes quick to find the empty spot on the wall to where the album goes.
Not on the shelves under the player, no those were jam-packed with composition notebooks unlabeled making your curious fingers twitch. The album belongs up on the wall with the rest of them that he organized beautifully. Each piece placed perfectly to compliment each piece of art so that it could be viewed individually or if you stood back you could see it as something whole.
Standing on tiptoes to return its album art facing forward. Taking a step or two back to appreciate it before the notebooks whisper to you.
Slipping one from the shelves, it's filled margin to margin with text about the albums. The notations were meticulously detailed reminding you of placards at museums or art exhibits. Finding the corresponding piece, staring up at the art before your eyes flicker down to the notes.
…when the music swells it squeezes my heart, the lyrics were chosen carefully bringing tears to my eyes. It's haunting how relatable it is to wonder if I'll get a perfect love and if I do that I'm deserving….
You swallow thickly, know you'll get swallowed up by this notebook that you didn't have the time to dissect, especially not with the limited amount of time you had. It felt akin to a diary, something you shouldn't be reading. Normally that wouldn't discourage you, wouldn't have your fingers slowly shutting the book. Normally you'd devour as much as you could with an excuse on why you weren't where you were supposed to be on the tip of your tongue.
For now you return it to the shelf.
Feet carrying you across the cool hardwood to the open concept kitchen that over looks the living room with the album art, expensive couch and the TV. The large waterfall island made of marble, clean and smooth save for a few scattered pieces of Izuku's life he hadn't yet tidied away like the rest of the apartment.
Another notebook, a theme it seems, lying open. A sketch of a hero on the left with text surrounding them before paragraphs of text and few bullet points to the page on the right again in Izuku's slightly messy handwriting. As if his hand cannot keep up with his brain.
Snow Fall - similar to Shouto’s ice quirk…
“Beloved?” Izuku's voice calls gently from down the hall, you tear your eyes away from the notebook and quickly open a few cabinets before you find a glass and fill it from the tap.
“M coming! Just needed water.” Heading back to huge bedroom, smiling devilishly when you find Izuku.
Seeing his body better in the light of the bedroom. Scarred, thick with muscle and soft freckles kissing almost every inch of his skin. The tan spots giving extra attention to his Adonis belt that leads to his fat cock. It makes your cunt throb.
You set the AllMight collectable glass down onto the bedside table, not noticing the fanboy item until you see his flushed cheeks, following his eyes to the PLUS ULTRA cup. The source of his embarrassment makes you giggle again.
“It's cute.” You reassure, jumping on top of the deep viridian duvet, cocking your hand on your hip and pulling your shirt up to show a little skin.
“When's the last time you fucked on this great big bed?” He doesn't answer you right away, basil eyes looking at you before they begin to look through you.
A burning ember gaze sears his memory, he closes his eyes as if that would stop the images from demanding every last shred of his attention..
“Been awhile.” He finally admits, dropping his towel unashamed as he steps into his black boxer briefs. They cup his sac and softened cock nicely, clinging to his thick thighs that have you salivating. The way he ate pussy and fucked was almost good enough to replace the cold hard cash he promised to pay, almost.
That distant look in his eyes made you wonder if there was someone else that held him back from his romantic endeavors.
“Shall we christen this great big bed too then?” A playful tease as you pull up the fabric of his shirt to expose your breasts. He loved the sight, loved how you looked in his clothes, in his bed, underneath him as his emerald pendant swings in your face.
His cock twitches, a tick in his jaw before he's clasping his hands in restraint. Wringing his fingers as he thinks of the last time he fucked in that bed.
He feels the ghost of sharp canines at the nape of his neck, his hand automatically moves to brush over the area. His curls fall over his eyes and he sighs deeply.
“No. I think you should sleep.” He smiles softly, it doesn't reach his eyes and you don't push, “We've got a big day tomorrow. Got to get your stuff and -”
“I don't have a lot of stuff. My outfit was the most of it.”
“You don't have any other clothes?”
“Maybe another pair of pants, some underwear for sure but this is mostly it. So we have time.” You purr, crawling down the bed before you flop onto your stomach. Arching your back purposefully, out stretching your fingers to play with his.
“Then it will be even longer. We'll have to get you an outfit for the party.” He threads his fingers with yours before you let go when his words register. Sitting straight up.
“Party?”
“Yes, baby doll, party. We've got several to go to. Maybe a gala too. Then there's the agency Christmas party oh and…” He bites at his lip as he rest his chin on scarred digits beginning to go off on a tangent as he thinks of all the invitations stuffed in the top desk drawer of his office.
“A gala?!” Oh fuck oh fuck this was a bad idea. When he said girlfriend through the holidays you thought fucking and a private date or two. Not being surrounded by pro heroes you ran from on the daily, identity concealed with a mask.
Not only would you be in the literal lion’s den but you really weren't the most classy type of bitch. You've never really been invited to any big event let alone one that was fucking televised. At least not events you didn't crash to slide priceless paintings off the walls or expensive jewelry off the wrists of the one percent. At least then you'd have your mask to hide behind, the ability to blend into the crowd but now you'd be hanging off the arm of the number one hero.
You'd have to act like a proper lady who definitely didn't crash in vacation homes or half lived in apartments of the rich and the famous while they stayed in their main mansions until they got tired of the same old four walls.
Each gig you promised that this would be your last and each time you found yourself with a new piece of jewelry made from dazzling gems of deconstructed designer pieces hungry for the next heist.
Art and jewelry weren't the only things you've stolen, information and secrets often sold for a lot more but Izuku, pro hero Deku, didn't need to know you had a stash house, more like stash attic, in some rundown home in Kamakura you'd gotten for a steal.
His thighs bump up against the edge of the bed, cupping your cheeks for a moment, “You look…worried.”
“I am worried. Some of these events are televised. Are you sure you want me? I'm not exactly Yaoyorozu or Kendo."
“I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't.” He comes down to press his lips to your forehead. It makes your stomach flutter, it shouldn't, “Besides those will be the easiest ones. The hard ones are the more personal settings.”
He leans back, takes his hands from your face as he heads towards the lights, “I won't let anything happen to you.”
He flicks off the lights, stands by the door for a moment before he goes to shut it.
“You're really going to sleep on the couch? I thought we had to make this realistic.” A final attempt to get him to at least come and enjoy his luxury bed. It was big enough that you doubted the two of you would even touch by accident in the middle of the night. If he was so afraid of intimacy, which was odd, he seemed more the time to fall in love if he fucked. Especially when he did romantic shit like fuck you to music and whisper some of the lyrics in your ear.
You pat his side with sharp clawed fingers, “Come on boyfriend.”
He can't remember the last time he slept in his bed, changing and washing the sheets more out of habit than necessity and as he tries to recall he thinks it's been over a year.
He looks at you for a long, long time, you curled up in his expensive sheets and comforter as you pat the spot beside you patiently but he sighs.
“Maybe another time. Good night sugar.”
“Good night Zuzu bear.”
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my-name-is-apollo · 1 year
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Found a translation of hymns to Apollo and Dionysus where their epithets have been arranged in alphabetical order and this might be my new favourite thing because
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- Book 9 of the Greek Anthology, translated by W.R. Paton
Look at the contrast between some of their epithets (Apollo and Dionysus respectively):
"hater of lies, giver of the soul" - "liar, tearer of the soul"
"soft speaking" - "noisy" (lol)
"sober" - "Deep drinker"
"Sweet-spoken, sweet-hearted, gentle-handed" - "Prone to anger, stout of heart"
"Gentle, sorrowless, giver of wealth, saviour from trouble" - "Jealous, very wrathful, envious, bestower of envy"
"father of fruits" - "eater of raw flesh" (BRUH)
"father of light" - "God of the night"
"Cheerer of the spirit" - "Disturber of the soul"
BUT they still have a lot in common:
"stiller of grief - healer of sorrow", "strong hearted - lion hearted", "soft haired - tender haired", "dweller on the hills - dweller in the woods" "thousand-shaped", "desirable" and my favourite, "common to all".
And it really does encapsulate the relationship between Apollo and Dionysus so well (and the duality of Apollo and Dionysus as individual gods too)
I'm also a sucker for epithets that describe appearance and I'm absolutely delighted with Apollo being "rose-coloured", "golden, golden-complexioned" and "glittering" (but is anyone surprised? XD)
Dionysus on the other hand, a bit concerning cause "slender, wrinkled"? And also he's "liquid"?? (idk what that's even supposed to mean. A reference to wine?) But "golden-filleted" and "Golden-horned" sound lovely <3
Also the fact that Dionysus is called "Satyr" and Apollo "Titan" is very interesting to me. Apollo - Titan makes sense when you consider the conflation between him and Helios. But Dionysus is a surprise. Are there any myths where he's syncretised/conflated with Pan (since he's the only Satyr god I can remember)? Of course it could be to show his chthonic nature, or that he's mostly around satyrs. But this piqued my curiosity.
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joostyklein · 29 days
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Hm…ski aggu breeding kink ohhhhh u wanna write about ski aggu breeding kink and spittttr oughhhhh….
notes; oh, yes i do nonnie..yes i do..
cw; rpf, you searched for this! breeding kink, mating press, p in v, unprotected sex, spitting + mild slapping, nasty sex, written in mind of relationship beforehand, porn w/plot, minors dni!
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aggu doesn’t like children, but he wouldn’t call himself a hater—he doesn’t get the idea of a paternal instinct when he see’s children, he just see’s innocent things that are dumb, sort of like him but smaller and fatter.
so, safe to say, when he sees your tenderness and carewith your niece babysitting he’s immediately head over heels for you again, shifting the weight of his hips upwards for a moment, listening to your soft whispers as you put her down for bed.
when the two of you are driving home, he doesn’t mention it. he doesn’t need to, as soon as you get home you feel his hands immediately kneading at the fat of your arse, moving your hand back to clutch at the back of his blonde strands.
“what is it, aggu? bedroom?”
the softness of your coo immediately had his cock chubbing up in the restraints of his expensive boxers, kissing the back of your shoulder.
“ja, liebling. very worked up.”
he doesn’t get the idea of a paternal instinct, but he gets the idea of a natural instinct, catching himself ramming into your plush cunt with eager ferocity as the plaps grew louder, practically sticking together with sweat.
“oh-oh-fuck, august!”
your lips parted as soft ‘o’ sounds and cries left your chest, watching the blondes’ saliva dribble down onto the curve of your chest, low grunts and huffs leaving his body with each hard slap.
“that’s, fucking, it.. fill you up, schatz.. make you a mommy, bet you’d—oh,fuck—be so good..”
aggu groaned into your shoulder, biting down on the flesh with his teeth for leverage, your ankle wrapping tightly around his back with a sharp squeal, balls slapping against the shape of your arse, the man leaning up slightly.
grabbing your face in one of his hands, your cheeks squished together and your mouth instinctively opened, his drool dribbling into your mouth like slow motion.
“gonna—fucking cum in you, fill you up nice..nice,tight..”
the rumble, the sudden feeling of his hand spanking your clit as the pink head of his thick cock pistoned against your g-spot, hand resting on your stomach. with a few tight clenches around aggu, your were arching off of the bed with a cry; thick seed spurting inside of your warm walls.
after he cleaned you up with a damp rag, and changed both of you into your pjs, you sat with his arm tucked around your waist, lips pressing against the shell of your ear.
“you really think i’d be a good mother?”
“mhm, don’t think we need more me’s, yet.”
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bucknastysbabe · 2 years
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5 + 1 Times Buck’s GF was the crybaby and the one time she wasn’t
Rating: Regular, smut only in one part
Word Count: 4,037
Tags: FLUFFY FLUFF, smut in one part, pnv!sex, soft tender luvin, Bucky is Vry Vry sweet, but he do be laughing at the reader, reader is oversensitive, and also a journalist for the Bugle aka How?, bucks haters get flamed, crying over spilt milk literally, some angst, TW: ptsd, J.Jonah Jameson is out there somewhere shaking his head at his employee
1. In the arms of the angels- FLY AWAYYYY
Bucky could safely say that his precious, precious girl could be somewhat oversensitive. He liked that about her, having someone around who was extremely caring and kind. The former Winter Soldier would be lying if he claimed that he knew how to handle her spells every time.
Although Bucky gotten better over the time they had been together.
They were cuddled on his new, much bigger couch on a lazy Sunday. His girlfriend wore one of Bucky’s t-shirts, the cloth hanging down to her soft thighs. She was spooned against the brunette, head padded on his flesh bicep. The random movie they had been watching went to a commercial. Bucky’s eyes widened when he realized what exactly kind of commercial it was.
The depressing ass ASPCA advertisement. His girlfriend donated to the local humane society and multiple non-profits but would lose her ever loving shit over the poor pets. Bucky instinctively curled his other arm around her waist when the sad song came on. His girl sniffled, “Oh god, I hate this!”
He murmured, “C’mon just look at your phone baby.”
Her sniffles turned into sobs, bemoaning, “I don’t understand how people could do that to the poor animals! It’s ah-ah-awful!” Bucky frowned, vibranium thumb rubbing circles into her hip. He reassured her, “Sweetheart, we about donate to the entirety of Brooklyn. You’re doing good.”
One of her fists banged on his thigh. She cried, “I need to donate to the entirety of the United States!” Bucky’s lips curled up in slight amusement. As much as he hated to see his best girl cry, it was entertaining to see her fit. He shushed her, “Okay we will, s’not like I’m a broke fugitive anymore.” The girl’s watery eyes flicked up to his smirk.
She poked him at an awkward angle, croaking, “Don’t say that about yourself!”
He tried to keep a calm face but ended up snickering. To which Bucky received another annoyed poke and a scoff. Thankfully the ad was done by the time she turned back to the TV. Bucky kissed her hairline and said, “Okay then, no more waterworks and I won’t trash my name. We’ll go buy another damn pound out later.” She seemed to relax, snuggling tight into Bucky’s larger frame.
2. On the floor
A shriek and a crash echoed from the kitchen. Bucky threw down his tattered book and hopped up. He hoped his girlfriend didn’t injure herself, again. The super soldier slid into the kitchen, blue eyes surveying the scene. He half-shouted, “You okay?“
“NO!,” came the distressed reply.
Bucky’s poor girl was half soaked and milk covered the floor, the gallon leaking onto the tile. His brows raised at the mess, hand rubbing at his neck. She threw her hands up and squalled, but made no move to escape the flood.
“I just wanted to make some cereal and the stupid damn jug slipped from my hands!,” she cried.
Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes. This would be the second time she had cried over spilt milk, literally. He strode across the kitchen and picked the sobbing woman up, her arms wrapping around his neck, assuming koala protocol. Or at least that’s what the loon called it.
The brunette rubbed her heaving back, cooing, “Oh poor baby, s’no big deal. I’ll go get another gallon from down the street, okay?” She looked up at him and began crying harder. The distraught woman whined, “No! I screwed it up being a klutz I’ll go get it!”
Bucky lowered them onto a dining room chair, wiping her tears away. He shook his head, eyeing her adorably blotchy cheeks. She pouted, tears lessening in time. The brunette hummed, “Jus’ let me go get the damn milk. You had an accident, I can’t have my pitiful girl crying over actual spilt milk.”
She laid her head in the crook of Bucky’s shoulder, grumbling, “It’s so damn sticky. This is gonna take forever to clean!” Bucky nuzzled her sweet smelling hair, smiling softly. She was too soft for her own good. But that’s why he was here, of course.
Her achingly wide eyes were back peering at Buck. He raised a thick brow, waiting for a response. Slim hands grabbed his stubbled cheeks, asking in a deadpan, “You don’t think I’m the most worthless girl ever right?” She averted her eyes as she continued, “Idiot who can’t make cereal.”
Bucky leaned into her sullen face to capture trembling lips into a kiss. It was chaste and sweet, Bucky murmuring into her lips, “I don’t care if you grew into a hulk monster and crashed the place. Why don’t we clean up and go grab the milk, make it a date huh?”
The brunette bit back a laugh as she hugged him tighter and sobbed out how much she loved him. Bucky tucked her hair back and grinned down at his pretty, crybaby, best girl.
3. Feline fail
Bucky and his girlfriend were cooking dinner together. They were laughing and sharing sweet pecks, bumping hips and slinging sauce. Bucky had remembered an old lasagna recipe and wanted to try it. She obliged with glee.
She changed the song to one of those strange ‘rap’ songs. Bucky was still getting accustomed to the 80’s power music so this was out of his league. She talked along to the lyrics, using a spoon as her microphone. Bucky leaned against the counter, helplessly grinning, hopelessly in love. She did a twist and some weird footwork.
MREOOOWWWW
“Alpine!,” they simultaneously shouted.
The poor cat had run off heavily limping. Bucky cursed, “Ah, shit.” The woman dropped the spatula and went after the fluffy white cat. She frantically apologized, “Alpine! Alpie! I’m so sorry baby! Oh god I didn’t mean to step on your paw babygirl!” Bucky wanted to point out the feline did not understand but held his tongue.
He followed his girlfriend into a back bedroom, then to the walk-in closet. Poor doll was in hysterics now. She wailed, “I’m the worst! What if I broke her paw? Just kill me n-n-nOWWWW!”
Bucky grabbed the sweet thing and hushed her, “Stop howling, Alpine is probably overwhelmed. Let’s be quiet and calmly approach.”
She nodded with a sniffle, mascara running down reddened cheeks. Bucky flicked the light on and softly called, “Alp, Alpine? Pspspsps c’mere baby.” He waggled his fingers at his shoe stand. Slowly the big blue eyes of Alpine came into view. The cat let out a sad ‘maaaoow’. She sucked in a wet sob behind Bucky, little hands fisted into his shirt.
Bucky crouched further down, keeping his palm extended. He cooed, “Over here psps Alpine.” Alpine unfurled from the shoe stand, limping over to the couple. Tears dripped down the young woman’s face as she let the sweet cat sniff her palm and nuzzle against it. She sniveled, “Ohhh- Alpine, m’so sorry,” Bucky was poked as she continued, “Buck? Can you check the paw out?”
Bucky grunted, “Yep. I’m sure she’ll be fine, just a smush and got startled. Bucky picked the white feline up, huge hands so tender with Alpine’s tiny paw. He gave it a few tentative presses and the cat squirmed in pain, making another sad noise. Bucky turned to look at his girlfriend and said, “Yeah I think she might be injured. We can take her to the vet in the morning. Probably just wants to lay down.”
After putting their pet back into the shoe stand, Bucky had stage three to do; console the distraught angel. She had already retreated to the bedroom, cocooning under her copious amounts of fluffy blankets. Bucky had bought them due to supersoldier heat and the ensuing thermostat on the coldest setting possible.
Bucky crawled onto the end of the bed, calling out, “Are you burrowing away from me?”
“Yes. I am the worst. Throw me into the snow already.”
Bucky crawled closer to the familiar lump and teased, “I don’t think paw stomping is equal to hypothermia.”
“It should be.”
His pink lips split into a grin as Buck yanked her blankets back and hopped on top. She squealed and batted at him, howling, “Not funny you jerk! Poor Alpine is hurt!” Bucky laughed, “Poor Alpine has been in shootouts, she’s a-okay.”
She stared up at his stupidly handsome face and pouted. Bucky’s big hands slid up her waist, commenting, “I’ll give you something to cry about if that’s what’cha want babydoll.” His dick never failed to throb at her cute little hitch in breath, pupils blowing wide.
“W-what about the lasagna?”
Bucky licked a hot stripe up her neck, promising, “Oh, this won’t be long. A little pick-me-up for my babydoll.” Her irritated huff quickly turned into a moan. Bucky grinned. So damn cute.
4. Never alone
Bucky had been having trouble sleeping recently, recurring nightmares plaguing any chance of shut eye. His girlfriend worried over him, offering any sort of help. He shook his head, eyes tired, explaining, “It comes in waves, certain times or seasons activate the trauma.”
“Okay, I just wish you didn’t have to sleep on the floor. But whatever will make you more comfortable.”
She wrung her hands nervously, pretty lips curled into a frown. Bucky sighed, patting his lap. He held her tightly and whispered, “I never wanna hurt you, so just for a little bit it’ll be like this okay? I promise, it hurts me too.” She wiped away runny tears, nodding resolutely. His precious baby warbled, “I’m being selfish, don’t mind me prattling and whining. I want what’s best for you. I love you so much,” she pinched Bucky’s thigh, “Go back to therapy tomorrow or I’ll drag you there.”
“I will,” he pecked her lips, “I will.”
They went to their separate beds, well their bed, and Bucky’s blanket and pillow on the floor. He managed to drift off before spinning cycling never ending loops of the Soldier killing and taking swamped his dreams. The asset shot upright with a painful howl, jerking his head around for the enemy.
He jumped up and grabbed a stashed knife, stalking across the floor. So confused on the lines between reality and fiction. He snarled at the sound of a high voice. It was his girl. Bucky was Bucky. Not the asset, soldier, fist of Hydra. He dropped the knife and apologized, “Oh Christ. Are you okay?” He was scared to come closer upon the fear etched into her looks. Fucking monster.
She ran to him and wrapped warm arms around his sweaty torso, crying softly. Bucky couldn’t find words to express his disgust and sorrow, holding her back tightly. His angel croaked, “I was worried about you! I’m s-sorry you had that awful nightmare. Oh Buck, let me sit with you for the rest of the night.”
Bucky peered down with resigned blue eyes. He was more exhausted now after that mind fuck. The brunette needed to get his poor baby to stop crying then maybe he could sleep. Even the cat nervously peered from behind a chair.
They migrated to the couch, her firm on top of him, gently scratching his scalp. Bucky pled, “Please know I would never hurt you. As soon as I heard your voice I knew where I was again.” She pressed her forehead to his and replied, “Then let’s just try this. You don’t have to go through this alone, ever.” She cried in little aborted huffs, trying to hold it together.
Bucky felt his heart swell at her sweet words. She was right, he didn’t have to be alone again. He had friends and his best girl who loved him, hell even the cat. Bucky squeezed her soft waist and gushed, “I love you, so, so, so much. Sweet girl.” He got a couple more tears but soon she became sleepy and winded down.
He managed to fall back into slumber, no dreams this time. Her scent and puffs of soft breath kept him grounded. Bucky hoped he deserved this, praying to whoever granted him this boon.
5. Honey I’m Home! - Smut
Sam hollered out of his big ass truck, “Get ready for the waterworks lover boy!” Bucky held up his middle finger and unlocked the front door. Sam drove away with that annoying guffaw of his. Bucky dropped his bags at the door, Alpine’s blue eyes peering up. He grinned and picked up the kitty, cooing and petting her white fluff. Bucky asked, “Hey, sweet Alp. Where’s mama hm? I know she’s all excited.”
“BABY!,” came the familiar cry. Bucky had to owe it to his supersoldier serum for managing to gently let down Alpine and pick up his girlfriend within 10 seconds. Bucky laughed and picked the woman up, happily swinging them around with a goofy grin. His heart felt so full. She spoke through hefty sobs, “I- Oh gah-ah-ah some pi-pizz-za!” Bucky chuckled and tapped her on the ass.
“The waterworks already angel? So soon?”
“YOU KNOW I MISS-SS-SED YOU!,” she caterwauled, loading Bucky’s face down with kisses. He used a big hand to stabilize her head, sealing his full lips over her shaky ones. She sighed into the lip lock, rambling about how much she missed Bucky between kisses.
Bucky pulled back and hummed, “I missed your pretty face, even the tears.” She nipped his lower lip at the jab, retorting, “Very fu-funny!”
The former assassin chuckled, “No really, I get to hug you.”
She narrowed her eyes, wiping her wet cheeks, “Uh-huh.”
Bucky lowered his lids and gave his best charming half smirk to her, purring, “Y’know what I really miss?” He groped at the globes of her ass gently, eating up her reaction. She gasped, minutely squirming, lashes fluttering. Bucky leant into her ear, humming, “Hm baby? Not gonna ask me?”
She murmured sulkily, “What is it Buck?”
He drew his words out, fanning hot breath across her ear, “I miss the way you cry and rake my back bloody when I’m between those damn thighs.”
“Mmfuck, oh, yeah?,” she squeaked, face heating up. Bucky nodded, long fingers massaging the giving flesh of her cheeks. He rumbled, “Yep sweet baby, couldn’t help myself. So pretty when you come on me. Pizza can wait, I want my girl.” The woman nodded profusely, babbling, “Pleaseplease yes wan’ it Bucky. Missed you!”
In a frenzy she lapped into his plump mouth, kissing like a madwoman. Bucky’s best kept secret is the needy little slut he only gets to have in bed. He stopped to push her against the wall, nosing around at her tits. Bucky’s Henley she wore had slipped down, displaying the soft skin. He lapped at a swollen bud and suckled on her tit, earning a high whine and fingers in his steadily growing hair.
Bucky rutted against her barely clothed pussy, feeling it already damp. He rumbled, “Must’ve been real needy dolly, so wet for me.” She shoved her breasts into his face, gasping out, “Not the same w’out you- ah!” Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head, her words stoking the fires of that possessive place in his heart.
She pulled at his brown hair, urging Bucky along desperately, hips canting against his need. The super soldier panted, “Yeah, yeah, right m’bad.” He stomped to their bedroom, grinning and kissing her hotly. Bucky laid his girlfriend down and frantically began to untie his boots, throwing them against the wall. His eyes flickered up to her yanking off the shirt.
A punched out groan left his throat when her glistening pussy was revealed to him, panties tossed carelessly to the side. Bucky shucked down his briefs and climbed between her thighs, muttering, “Fuckin’ hell— thought about you every night. Pretty pussy,” he pressed his lips to her thighs, “Legs, all of you. Damn.”
Her wide eyes softened, the girl simpering, “Thought ‘bout you too babe, most handsome guy in the world.” Bucky snorted as he pressed himself flush to her smaller body, “I don’t know about that, I do know that I’m yours though.” She smiled against his cheek, wrapping arms around his wide shoulders. Bucky sighed at the feeling of his baby’s gentle kisses to his scruffy skin.
“You want to wear a condom, me stretch you out?,” Bucky asked, eyes searching her own.
She shook her head and whispered, “Got an IUD, I’ll explain later but we don’t have to wear any condoms,” lips grew wider, “So go on and fuck me Buck.” Bucky groaned in ecstasy, situating himself flush to giving flesh. He pumped his leaking cock a couple of times before rubbing the tip against her slick entrance.
She whined and scrabbled at his back, spreading open wider, pleading, “Yeah, yeah, please Bucky, James, baby.” He replied, strained from how adorable and sexy that was, “I gotcha, hold on, fuck.”
They both cried out softly when Bucky slid in to her warm core, the noise filling the room. The brunette braced a hand beside her head, cursing lowly, “God-fucking-damn you feel so good sweets.” She whined his name, face scrunching up adorably, pussy pulsing around him.
Bucky’s flesh hand curled under the back of one of her knees, pushing the girl wider open with a grunt. He pecked her lips and began to piston into her. His blues fell closed, the rapture of being joined with his love was intense. Even more so when some asshole jacked him with the serum. She cooed softly, “Feels- ah, so good, my sweet Buck.”
He didn’t speed up, as much as the soldier wanted to jackhammer into tomorrow. He would enjoy this reunion, savor every pull of her sweet pussy around his cock. Bucky leaned into her forehead, panting into her mouth, soaking up her cries and whimpers. She gave desperate little kisses, pulling at the hair on Bucky’s nape.
“Ah! Love you!,” she moaned.
Bucky panted back, “Love you, so damn much, fffuck.”
He nuzzled into her neck, listening to himself spread her open with a groan. Selfishly, Bucky sped his hips up some, got his knees under him. That way he could fuck his baby’s g-spot, make her (really) cry. His girlfriend responded quickly, arching her back and jerking back onto Bucky’s cock. A slew up goosebumps lit up her skin, mouth hanging wide open. She scrunched her eyes shut, yelling, “Oh- oh that’s it!”
Bucky crooned, licking up her sweaty throat, “Yeah sweetheart? That’s your spot?” She nodded and babbled hitched ‘yesses’. The girl tightened around him, making the drag impossibly hotter. Bucky whined deep in his chest, strokes stuttering. He brought his vision up to look at his love, whining again at her flushed face and hooded eyes.
She whimpered, “M’so close James, oh god!” Tears pricked pretty eyes, clumping the long lashes. Bucky picked up the pace, relishing in her nails ripping his back to shreds. He would lying if he said the pain didn’t exacerbate the pleasure. The brunette gently nipped at her jaw, begging for his girl to come, hand rubbing at her chest and shoulders tenderly.
Bucky’s eyes about crossed when she tightened and howled around his swollen cock. His hand tore at the mattress while her pussy convulsed around him. She sobbed now, tears leaking down her darkened cheeks, “F-fuck Bucky! S-so good!” Her slick coated him, making the glide ever so messier.
Bucky was close now, listening to her pants and whiny cries of ‘come in me please’ was throttling any sort of longevity. His balls drew painfully close, the vein on the underside of his cock throbbing. He cried her name out, muscles seizing with a twitch, emptying into her tight cunt. Bucky’s fingers seemed to lose their motor function, arm careening with a whine. She heaved, “That’s it! Yes! Yes!”
The soldier sucked in a rough breath, finishing his climax with a soft whimper. Bucky rolled them to the side, softening cock still seating inside her. She pressed kisses to his cheeks and nose, smiling and crying per usual. Bucky wrapped his big arms around her waist and kept her flush to him. He murmured, “Perfect baby, jus’ perfect.” She responded with another stolen kiss.
+1. Public Menace!
They sat together at a restaurant, sipping some drinks. Bucky eyed his beautiful girlfriend, effortlessly styled and flawless. He told her so, earning a bashful smile and roll of the eyes. She countered, “Not as flawless as you, Winter Smolder.” Bucky narrowed his eyes, laughing, “Hey, you wanted me to do that photoshoot!”
The waiter came up with their appetizer. Bucky could tell his girlfriend was not a fan of the other man, lips turned down. She was a good judge of character though. The young man had been staring Bucky down for awhile now, even pointing at him from afar. The brunette furrowed his brows and asked, “Can I help or anything?”
The waiter replied, assuming a defensive stance, “Are you the Winter Soldier?”
Bucky felt his girl’s glare threatening to kill the boy. He offered a sheepish smile and elaborated, “Uh- at one point I was. Not anymore.” The man pressed harder, “Yeah but he’s still in there right?,” they motioned at their skull, “Just a couple of words and you snap right?”
Bucky blanched, but the knife didn’t stop digging in his chest, twisting and hot.
“How were you allowed to be pardoned? I mean The Avengers already are at death’s door, why not let a mass murderer join?,” they hissed. Bucky tried to look around for help, stammering an apology. Panic began to lace at his chest, pulling his throat tight. Their mouth was moving angrily, but all Buck could hear was ringing.
A familiar hand gripped at his, her voice clearing through the attack. His girlfriend calmly replied, “I should report your manager for harassing customers, sir.” She leaned in with a snarl, “What would you do if you were captured by a secret agency embedded within the United States for 75 years huh? Beaten, brainwashed, tortured, and forced to hurt others with no say?”
The waiter attempted to retort but she cut him off with a hand.
“Luckily Bucky here,” she poked the man’s chest, “Has a name! His name has been cleared and has worked very hard on amends. If you got your head out of your ass and looked around maybe you’d see the good work him and Cap have done around the globe!” Bucky’s girlfriend jerked into her purse and threw a bill at the dumbfounded man.
“C’mon sweetheart, we’ll go somewhere else,” she stood up and loudly announced, “I’ll make sure to give my nicest review in the DAILY BUGLE!!!”
The young waiter gasped and stared in a fog.
Bucky shuffled along, still gathering his wits. He’d never seen his girl so pissed. Once outside the restaurant she hugged him tightly, cursing, “Fucking asshole. Sorry I went a little crazy. Jameson would be proud, ha.” Meanwhile the brunette was blinking away tears, grateful for her swift save. He blurted, more of a croak, “Thank you angel.” Suddenly his eyes were blurry with hot tears.
Bucky sobbed in her arms, the panic, shame, and embarrassment from earlier breaking down. The woman soothed him with a shush, rubbing his muscular back. She cooed, “That’s okay, let it out, about time for you to be the crier.” Bucky smiled slightly, eyeing her with red rims. She swiped away his tear, stating, “Don’t ever let an idiot like that make you feel less than, you are good.”
Bucky shook his head, murmuring, “Does everybody still think I’m about to snap?”
She raised a brow, “Buck. The amount of good press you got from the GRC debacle has shown you in a different light,” she laughed, “I can write puff pieces of you napping with the cat if that makes you feel better baby?” He swatted her ass with a roll of teary eyes, thanking his girlfriend again.
Bucky asked, “D’ya just wanna order in instead? I’ll rub your feet.”
“Free of charge, no foot rubs, let’s go home big guy,” she shrugged. Bucky would be a little weepy for the rest of the night, but she made it bearable.
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xsatoru · 9 months
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When Lightning Strikes...
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Welcome to the introduction and masterlist for When Lightning Strikes…
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader
Genres: JJK almost canon-compliant manga!universe, Canon-typical violence, Character death(s), Childhood haters to lovers!au, Slow burn!au, Angst, Fluff, Future smut (minors dni!), more to come…
Warnings: Listed per each chapter
Word Count: TBD (see below)
All you ever wanted as a young child was to be a strong, well-respected sorcerer. Standing one day shoulder-to-shoulder as the leading family representative with others worthy to serve as pillars meant to support and maintain balance in the jujutsu world. But being born as a woman in a conservative, patriarchal society still stubbornly stuck in its outdated ways makes that simple goal seem damn near impossible. It especially doesn't help to live in the same timeline as Satoru Gojo, modern-day's mightiest of them all. The legendary Six Eyes wielder just so happens to be a fellow classmate, friends with a friend's friend, and the bane of your entire existence. But similar to your cursed technique, when unpredictable lightning strikes, every pivotal moment that's sure to follow could uproot the very structure of a world that desperately needs changed. Your fate continuously seems to intertwine with Satoru, whose life goal may not be so different from yours.
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This series plans to cover 8 main parts, an 18+ epilogue, and an additional bonus at the end. Warnings will be listed with each chapter that's posted. The last main chapter will probably feature smut and as this account is already considered 18+, minors please do not interact! Finally, the plot follows the canon manga (with a few deviations) until it suddenly doesn't for obvious reasons, but please beware of some major spoilers!!
Please subscribe on ao3 or asked to be tagged on tumblr for chapter installments. I will post on tumblr and update the section below with progress reports since some things are subject to change during writing. Thank you Tiff (@fuckvernon) for the vibe check 💖 Reblogs appreciated!
Updates: As of January 2, 2024 — currently writing Chapter 5
Current word count: ~20k+
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Chapter 1 — Chaos is Likely to Ensue
It's 2004. You are a first-year at the Tokyo branch of Jujutsu High. So is Satoru Gojo, the bane of your existence. You hate each other's guts, so the only reason you'd ever kiss one another would be in an alternate universe, right?
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Chapter 2 — Heartbeats Race a Little Faster
A return to Jujutsu High for Winter Break somehow also means celebrating the strongest sorcerer's 19th birthday. As the #1 Satoru Gojo hater, you have to be there, of course — if only to stir up some good old chaos!
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Chapter 3 — Eyes Linger on the Afterimage Before It Fades
Nearly 10 years after meeting Satoru Gojo as a first-year, you're still stuck dealing with him existing somewhere in your vicinity. But college is ending, you're going back… home, and real life is just beginning. Things couldn't be any better when it's the calm before the storm.
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Chapter 4 — Fractal Scars Sear Into Tender Flesh
December 24, 2017. A date jujutsu society will forever remember as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons — a cursed terrorist attack on the cities of Kyoto and Shinjuku. Its orchestrator, a face much too familiar for comfort, dreams of a perfect reality without non-sorcerers and curses.
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Chapter 5 — Thunder Follows With a Quiet Rumble
The aftermath of the attack results in employment at the school you once attended. Under the guise of needing a teacher for future third-years, Masamichi Yaga offers a deal to protect you from the Higher-Ups. The mastermind behind it all is none other than the bane of your existence and you must unwillingly put up with him, the ghosts of your past, and those you left behind.
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Chapter 6 — The Sky Weeps in Her Torrential Mourning
On October 31, 2018 at 9:26 pm in Shibuya — Satoru Gojo is sealed. Losing the world's strongest sorcerer becomes instantly noticeable and lowers morale, especially when those dear to you fall one by one.
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Chapter 7 — A Phoenix Rises From the Ashes
"They've revoked Yuji Itadori's death sentence and appointed me as his immediate executioner." As if things couldn't get any worse after Satoru Gojo's exiled and the removal of his seal is now considered a criminal act, the death penalty executed by a special grade is coming for anyone associated with the most powerful sorcerer in 400 years.
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Chapter 8 — The World Pauses to Watch, Holds Its Breath, and Counts
No one ever told you a lethal battle royale is all it would take to come to terms with your family ties and cursed technique. After trusting the students in the Culling Games, it's your turn to step up and face the strongest jujutsu sorcerer from a thousand years ago. Armed with newfound confidence, can you succeed before he annihilates his competition?
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Chapter 9 — A Ceraunophile is Born (Epilogue with 18+ Content)
Ceraunophile (n): a person who loves lightning and thunder, a lover of thunderstorms.
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Chapter 10 — Bonus Content
Tidbits I can't fit into the main story line that mostly provide more insight into Satoru's point of view.
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xsatoru: January 2024 ©
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bblueology · 3 months
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I just finished Tender is the Flesh and I honestly don’t really know how to digest all the topics that were in the book. I went through some reviews that could help me understanding some of the imagery that maybe I had missed, but all I came across was people saying that they didn’t like the book. That’s understandable considering the topics, (I think it’s a little silly of a view because the point of the book is to talk about the disturbing nature of humans) however, I think it’s still important to give value to what the book tries to explain. I read a few post about the books world building and how it was hard to understand how things worked, and again that’s understandable but I think that the little pieces of information on the world at the given moment are to help the reader understand that Marcos doesn’t really understand, or know how to deal with the world, skewing the readers view as well. All the things criticism about the book are all what adds depth to the book and why it confuses people. Because every word in the book has a meaning to the story and a bigger picture than just the main story. The book has a lot to talk about and is harder to handle and when literature like this is spread around ‘booktok’ it is not handled, or appreciated like it should be. I myself am still struggling to understand the meaning of the book but at least I try my best to interpret it with care and the perspective it was intended to be viewed in. I think that could be talked about in another rant.
p.s This is a random rant that was done late at night sorry for any grammatical errors. Also I’m not trying to be a hater, it’s just my personal opinion and I respect the ones I talked about I just don’t agree with them.
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cifern · 6 months
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Video Essays I think about a lot
Minecraft Remembers You
booktok, brainrot, and why it's okay to be a hater
The Magic of Meta Games
Video Game Piracy is Good, Actually
Celeste's Biggest Mod (and why it's interesting)
Izumicon 2018: The Worst Con that Never Happened
Raging Loop is a Huge Mess
You all lied to me: Tender Is The Flesh is BAD, actually
Horror That Fears Politics
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laneaconite · 7 months
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To my Lovely Onlookers: an Introduction!
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For higher resolution images, look here
Hello, my name is Lane! I've been known to call myself a jack of all trades, but my heart's been set on authorship since the tender age of two.
Now, while my lifespan development textbooks like to call that premature identity foreclosure, I call it a dream. I'm creating this blog to archive my past and future works. What can initially be expected is a lot of poetry as well as some short prose pieces. The goal has always been to eventually work up to brick-length novels, but lately all I've got is poems pouring out of my ears. I'm composing them in my sleep. A lot of what I've written so far is about chronic pain, sapphism, transitional experiences, childhood, and trauma. Not every poem or prose piece is meant to be taken as a literal reflection of something that happened to me, but a lot of what I've written over the last few years have been in order to process my experiences. I find that I communicate best in rhetorical devices than in ordinary speech. This is extra funny (an inside joke to myself) because I spent the first fourteen years of my life as a self-declared poetry hater, despite my life long declaration of wanting to write. There were several things that caused me to reevaluate this stance, the primary three being: 1) If I didn't graduate high school I was never getting out of that horribly isolated, middle of nowhere town. 2) Writing was the only thing I knew I could be passionate about both in a personally fulfilling way, but also in a work way. Now, the only way I could successfully do that would be by forcing myself to engage with the entire other half of it I'd convinced myself I hated out of inadequate education. 3) Reading Maya Angelou's book, Poems (1981). We were given a large analysis project of one poet's whole collected works (or the closest edition we could find) and I chose Angelou because I remembered an excerpt from I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings (1969) being read aloud to my 7th grade class. It was her rhythm, rhetorical depth, and her humor that reformed my entire approach to the genre. I can't thank her enough.
"So," one might be asking, "Where does The Peach With Teeth fit into this, though?" And ohohohoh! The Peach With Teeth is several things. Primarily, I spent five months painstakingly embroidering it to be the cover of a hand-bound poetry chapbook. At this point, however, I'm thinking more of a compendium for the amount of poems I have, and for how many I'll write before I learn how to book bind. So, in that meantime the Peach is the cover of this blog.
The Peach is also a poem that I wrote in September of 2022, which is included below. That peach was deprived of teeth, tongue, and uvula, but had a more grounded horror within.
The Peach
I rinse the fuzz off, gently In the sink. The skin is a sunset of yellow, Magenta, pink. The first bite is honey sweet, The flesh slippery, My teeth peel away the skin I eat.
A bitter taste begins in my periphery And I see brown spreading around, Like a core. The tender sweet flesh peels away From its darkened sore.
Disgust rises in my body but I persist I eat the dripping good parts, I eat until the bad parts come too And they come veined with blue The pit itself, peeled back Is dusted with mold.
The poem is both a literal thing that happened—I did eat a moldy peach even though I saw an off patch on its skin and I could have stopped—also a metaphor. It's about seeing the signs that this won't end well, but needing another bite of sweetness to satiate that ache. It's about overconfidence and ignoring one's instincts. After a long while of hunger, the bitterness gets easier to ignore. That Peach and the Peach With Teeth, and many other Peaches can be expected to appear in my work. It's not my fault, I swear: my family had a peach tree in the backyard growing up. And if you, my darling reader, haven't tasted a sun-warmed peach right off the branch in late summer: I'm so sorry. The ones in the grocery store just don't compare when they're picked early to be shipped across country and thusly chemically ripened. They never get so thoroughly sweet through injected ethylene as by sunlight. It's only the skin that turns pink and softens, with the inside remaining hard, crisp, off-yellow. That these peaches are the only kind I can eat now, meaning I don't eat peaches, are part of what informed the teeth. Finally, the Peach With Teeth and her cousin The Peach poem have to be acknowledged for their sensual, even sexual, elements. 7/10 friends who I have shown The Peach With Teeth to have said "that looks like a vulva." Now, this was utterly unintentional, but when all your pretty queer friends say it enough times, you start to give up examine the metaphor closer. It's been said often that peaches and this girl right here 🍑 are used as euphemisms for the vulva/vagina. Now, when people are reduced to just their genitals, that's objectification. Not to say that the euphemism always is, as I can imagine some sappy sapphic love note tucked to sleep on a shelf somewhere. When I designed my embroidery pattern, I chose teeth for a core because of the utter contrast between the soft sweet flesh and the hard bone-bite of a chipped tooth. I was imagining it biting back and drawing blood. This is where my accident, the final image reading far more sensually than originally planned, synthesizes the ideas that have been rolling around in my head this whole time. It's about visceral misperception, of leaning to close to the lantern's gentle glow only for the grinning monster holding it to bite your head clean off. It becomes a euphemism flipped on its head: no more soft, sweet, hairless, harmless peaches. What we've got are teeth and tongues, a jaw unhinged but ready to snap right down at any time. Now, of course, to many of my 7/10 friends, this is still sexy.
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thebisexualwreckoning · 2 months
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I cannot wait to be done reading all the ‘dark academia’ books on my the that I’m only reading so I can be a proper hater I’m going to reward myself for willing going through all that by reading bunny and tender in the flesh and all the litfic my shriveled little heart can bear
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thechaoticreader · 8 months
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I have to rant about Tender Is The Flesh!!
Last year I read Tender is The Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica and I haven't seen many people agree with me so if Booktok has been yelling at you to read it and you're tired of the vague positive reviews, this is for you!
*Disclaimer: this is all my opinion/feelings, if you loved this book I'm glad and if a negative review of a book you love will be upsetting please protect your peace and ignore me <3*
General Thoughts & Why I Hate It
Im going to start out by saying I am a vegetarian and used to be strictly vegan! The book is very heavy handed about its eating meat=bad beliefs which I found exhausting. At many times throughout the story I found myself shouting "OH MY GOD I GET IT!!! MEAT IS MURDER. JUST TELL ME THE STORY" into the void. It makes very weird parallels that I don't agree with and there was next to no room for nuanced discussion. It felt like the author was holding my hand and explaining absolutely everything, not letting me infer anything, which I personally don't enjoy. I will say its possible that because it is a translated novel that the above issues only apply to the English translation and that its a fault of the translator rather than Augustina.
Another issue I have is that to me none of the characters actually felt like fleshed out people, rather just objects things happen to/around. The main characters motivations make no sense (especially in the second half), where he doesn't even feel like a person, you don't really get to know him and then what little you do gets completely contradicted in the second half of the book. The main character at the beginning is almost unrecognizable from himself by the end. I can't even call it character development because it feels like he sees one shitty thing than a switch flips and he's completely different. Through the whole time reading, I did not feel any type of way towards any character, I didn't care about any of them which made it hard to care about the novel. When I first finished it I felt no type of way but the longer I've had to sit with it, the more I'm growing to dislike it. The worst part is that it could have been so good, with some more nuance and character development it would have been a very interesting story!
There is also a graphic sexual assault scene which I wish I had known about going in. As a surviver of S/A I try to stay away from novels with it unless I've had time to prepare and be in a good headspace to consume it. So a completely RANDOM S/A scene that doesn't matter to the plot really caught me off guard and almost immediately ruined the book. I'm fine with assault scenes if and only IF it is important to the plot/character development. My problem is when its thrown in to demonstrate a character being shitty or for shock value, which I feel is the reason it was included in Tender Is The Flesh; if you removed the whole chapter it would make absolutely no difference and THATS where I have the problem.
My Problem with BookTok & Advertising
First, booktokers and book tubers saying that its best to go into blind and not giving a trigger warning for S/A. I think its generally irresponsible to not give trigger warnings and to encourage people to go in knowing nothing, its so easy to say "hey this book has _" so that survivors aren't further harmed. This is a general criticism that I'll probably do another post going into further.
Second, people call it a horror novel when its really not, its a dystopian and while not a huge issue, it just sets up expectations that it doesn't live up to! It felt a lot more akin to books like the Handmaids Tale than those in the horror genre. So if you want a horror novel, probably don't pick this up but if you want a kinda disturbing, dark dystopian then maybe this will be your book! Accuracy in genre is important because there are tons of people who love one genres and hate other, like myself who eat, sleeps and breaths horror but has never found a proper dystopian that I even kinda enjoyed. Or, people who love romance and don't care about fantasy may like a romantacy but hate a fantasy with a small romance side plot.
Anyway those are my feelings, I hope it helps someone decide if they want to read it or not! Once again, if you disagree thats totally okay! If you loved the book, I'm so happy for you! My problems with it shouldn't detract from hour enjoyment of it!
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frankensaint · 2 years
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Top five horror books? I'm always looking for books to add to my reading list.
Will I eventually read them? That's another thing.
Tender Is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica
Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson
Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris
IT by Stephen King (sorry it was the first horror novel i read and it affected me)
Hater by David Moody
Honorable mention to Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier <3
Ask me my ‘top five’ anything
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Secrets - Draco Malfoy
Pairing - Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader
Requested? - Yes! by @actyourownfandom-23​
Word Count - 2k
Warnings - Umbridge. Need I say more?
A/N - I’m so so sorry that this took so long, however I hope I made up for it with the length and that it was worth the wait :)
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Draco and Y/N were drawn to each other. There was an immediate spark, like fireworks going on a celebratory event for new years. There were only a few problems with their flirtations. Y/N was born to muggle parents, growing up without any knowledge of the wizarding world, until the Hogwarts letter arrived through their letter box. They were cautious, thinking it was some kind of prank or joke, but they eventually realised the truth and sent Y/N off to her new school for the next 7 years. She was also sorted into Gryffindor after arriving at Hogwarts, and swiftly made friends with Harry, Ron and Hermione. At Hogwarts, she would discover that she would find friendships that would last lifetimes, and a romance which was found in the strangest of places. 
Y/N and Draco had been together for just over a year. They started getting closer in Third Year, when she helped look after him when his arm was injured by a hippogriff, who Y/N later came to learn was called Buckbeak when she helped Harry and Hermione save him. At the beginning of Fourth Year, Draco and Y/N started meeting in secret, spending tender moments together and Y/N learnt who Draco truly was. He was only a boy, manipulated by his father into believing extremist views, without little choice of his own. He had his reputation as a school bully, something most people would be cautious of, but Y/N understood why he did it. He was trying to gain his father’s approval, something he so desperately wanted that he’d sacrifice anything else for it. He could have done so many incredible things during his time at Hogwarts, yet he wasted his years being servile to someone who would never respect him. 
When Umbridge came to the school, tensions were high. Y/N and Draco could no longer meet as often as they liked to, and their relationship was deteriorating quickly. Luckily, they were paired up in potions, allowing them to spend some time together.
‘No, Draco, you’re doing it wrong!’ Y/N exclaimed, as Draco ignored the instructions for the Draught of Peace, blissfully unaware of the adverse side effects caused by one small misstep. Draco turned to face Y/N, annoyance evident in his voice as he spat 
‘I don’t need help from a mudblood, I bet you don’t even know how to brew the potion’ 
Draco’s eyes widened as he realised what he said, shame evident on his features. To anyone else he wouldn’t have cared, but he just insulted Y/N, his secret girlfriend of over a year. She stared back at him, outraged that he would say such a thing to her, but she couldn’t react. This was what he was like to everyone. She knew it wasn’t who he wanted to be, but he had been conditioned to think this way. ‘It wasn’t his fault’, she would tell herself, ‘it’s due to his upbringing.’ But surely he was at an age now where he could make his own decisions? Surely he didn’t have to keep trying to earn the respect of a father who might never be proud of him?
Y/N noticed the shame in his eyes, something only she saw. Most other people thought it was some kind of enjoyment, that he was sadistic and cruel, but Y/N knew what that look upon his face meant. He was hurting inside too. 
Unfortunately for the pair of them, Umbridge was making her rounds of the castle and heard the commotion from the potions classroom as she strolled the dungeon corridors. She burst her way into the room, directly looking at Y/N and Draco. 
‘Y/L/N. Malfoy. My office. Now.’ she said, turning swiftly around and out of the doorway where she just entered. Snape sent an unamused look towards the bewildered pair, and sighed, waving his hand to let them go. 
Nerves racked through both of them as they walked towards Umbridge’s office. They had heard, and seen, what kind of torture went on in there. They paced the halls as they hiked to what felt like the gallows, neither of them wanting to speak about what just happened. Draco sent Y/N a look of apology, hoping she knew that he didn’t mean what he said. Y/N understood, she responded by nodding and then taking his hand in hers as they climbed the staircase to the office together. 
Moments later, they sat opposite Umbridge, hands now parted as to not raise suspicion. She lectured the two about what had happened, and let Draco go without punishment. He was part of her inquisitorial squad, of course. He hesitated, not wanting to leave Y/N alone, but he had no choice. Staying would have only caused more complications. 
After Draco’s departure, Umbridge brought out the parchment and quill Y/N had heard so much about. She had seen the scars on the hands of other students, and tears started to accumulate in the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Umbridge brought the parchment to the desk, and Y/N looked up at her, doing her best to be unafraid of what is going to happen.
‘Now, you must write ‘I must not keep secrets’ until you understand ok? How about 50 times?’ She says, sitting back down at her desk. The room was garish, pink and covered in decorative items with cats on them. The room was torture for the eyes, let alone the physical pain Y/N was about to endure. 
‘Excuse me, why must I write that? I’m not keeping any secrets’ Y/N asked, curiosity in her voice.
‘I see how you and Mr Malfoy look at each other, and I reckon you two are sneaking out to see each other, are you not?’ 
Y/N was dumbfounded. How did she know? Y/N couldn’t answer, she just hung her head lowly and that confirmed everything for Umbridge.
‘Well, get on with it then’ She said, her tone a mix of excitement and disgust. And Y/N started writing.
~~~~~~
Leaving Umbridge’s office, Y/N examined the back of her hand, noticing the words etched into her skin already beginning to scar. The tears that threatened to spill earlier came pouring out, a tsunami of tears flooding her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. She ran to the common room, hoping that it would be empty, however to her irritation it was packed full of people. 
She tried pushing past the bodies in the room, wanting to just go to her bed and cry, but to no avail, she was spotted by Hermione. 
‘Y/N! Where have you been, it’s been hours since anyone last saw you!’ She stated, panic apparent with every word that she spoke. She grabbed Y/N by the wrist, noticing the marks on her hand. She was outraged, she pulled Y/N towards Harry and Ron, who were residing on the couch by the fireplace.
‘Look what Umbridge did to Y/N!’ She exclaimed, revealing Y/N’s hand to the boys. They both read the words, confusion visible upon both of their expressions. 
‘But, you haven’t got anything to hide, have you?’ Ron asks, looking at Y/N, giving her reassurance that if there is anything she could tell them.
‘Well, actually…’ she starts, not knowing if she should tell them. ‘They have a right to know, they’re your best friends.’ She tells herself, so she continues, not wanting to leave them waiting.
‘Actually, I have got a secret. I may be in a relationship’ Her intonation higher on the last words, demonstrating her nervousness. 
‘With who?’ They all yell, gaining the attention of everyone in the room in their desperation to know. 
Silence fills the common room, and what can only be described a a squeak comes out of Y/N’s mouth.
‘Draco’ 
Mouths drop to the floor, did she really just say his name? Everyone was astounded by this, Draco Malfoy, the infamous hater of muggle borns, Gryffindors and essentially anyone who existed. 
The silence was deafening. Y/N didn’t know what to do. She acted upon her first instinct and raced towards the common room entrance, leaving as swiftly as she could. She went to the only place she could think of, the spot where the Draco and her met in the forbidden forest. 
~~~~~
When she arrived, Draco was already there. He was mumbling to himself, something about being a terrible person and how cowardly he was for not staying to prevent whatever happened to Y/N. Oh his innocent Y/N. 
Y/N approached quietly, trying to make out what he was saying. She could only catch words isolated from the rest of the sentence. The snapping of a twig underneath Y/N’s foot caused Draco to turn around dramatically,his wand drawn ready to hex whoever interrupted him in his solitude. Noticing that it was Y/N, he quickly put his wand away, rushing towards her. He clasped her hand tightly in his, and brought it up to his lips, kissing the scarred flesh. 
‘There you are, I was starting to think she still had you in her office, I was debating whether I came back to rescue you from your captor’ He said, a smirk rising. 
‘Draco, this isn’t the time for flirting, they know’ 
Seriousness washed over his face. ‘They definitely know?’ He asked, a lump forming in his throat. 
‘Yes. I had to tell them. They wondered about what I was hiding and I’m so tired of keeping this secret. I know I should have asked you first but I just had to do it’ She responded, expecting him to be angry and wanting to leave her.
‘Ok’ 
‘Ok? That’s how you respond?’ She questions. 
‘Well, they know now. And that’s ok. We can deal with that’ 
Y/N was astonished. Draco was ok with them knowing? He had wanted to hide things for so long, but now it’s suddenly ok?
She didn’t get an opportunity to speak when the sound of three pairs of feet, crunching the leaves below them, approached the couple. 
Expecting something bad to happen, Draco instinctively pulls Y/N behind him, wanting to keep her safe from anything that could do them any harm. He only wishes he could have done the same back when they were in Umbridge’s office. 
The faces of the trio peering back at them, Y/N steps out from behind Draco. 
‘Hello’ Harry starts. ‘I know we reacted badly back there, but we came to apologise. It isn’t our place to judge who you date or choose to spend your time with and after consideration we would like to apologise for our actions’ 
Y/N smiled at them, her heart filling with warmth.
‘Now, this isn’t to say that we like you, Malfoy, however, we will tolerate you, for Y/N’s sake. But if you do anything to ever hurt her, you’ll have us to answer to. Ok?’ Harry finished his lecture, staring at Draco, making sure he understood what was being said. 
Draco laughed at the thought of them confronting him, but he reassured them, ‘don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of hurting Y/N’ Finishing his sentence by taking her hand in his. 
‘Now, let's get back to the castle, dinner is about to start and if we’re missing without reason we’ll be in big trouble, let alone if they find us in the forbidden forest’ Hermione reminded them, as they began their walk back to Hogwarts. A place where they could be whoever they wanted to be, regardless of their family, their background, their actions. A place they truly called home. 
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wordynerdygurl · 5 years
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Bruises and Baths
Author’s Note:  Hello everyone!  Something amazing happened over this last weekend.  While millions were watching the “Big Game” some of my mutuals came up with a wonderful way to honor the amazing, talented writers here on tumblr.  @authorspotlight​ is a blog for showcasing a weekly author, at random, just to promote their great work and keep the haters at bay!  Interested?  Follow that blog!  We’ve a great little community starting up and I would love, love, love to see you all there!! P.S. Comments, shares, reblogs are appreciated!!  I love the love!! P.P.S. shout out to the creator of this amazing gif!  >swoon< Summary/ Request:  This story came from a request by one of my sweet little followers.  After a wild night with Loki, you, dear reader are sore and tired.  What does aftercare look like from the God of Lies? Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader Warnings:  References bondage, rough SMUT, then just fluffy, lovey, romantic SMUT
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As the back of your thighs met the supple leather of the conference room chair you nearly cried out.  Memories from last night made your knees weak and your panties damp as a jolt of pain shot through you.  It had been like this all day, fraying your nerves and your patience.
Biting back a moan, grabbing onto the conference table's ledge, you willed your wayward body to relax.  One more meeting then back to your apartment upstairs, a cup of tea and a shower.  And Advil.  Lots of Advil.
"Everything alright darling?"  Loki's voice, honey hot, humming in your ear sent a shiver through your aching body.  He knew it wasn't alright.  Oh yes, he knew very well, but you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of needling you.
Trying to sound unaffected, "Me?  Yes.  I'm just fine, thank you."  
Refocusing on the paperwork in your hands, smoothing your skirt over your tender bottom, you gingerly sat for the afternoon meeting.  Perching on the very edge of your chair, back straight, you struggled to appear professional, giving Loki none of your attention.  Could Loki allow that?  Hardly!  
Sliding into the chair next to you, leaning into your space, "I do love your blouse.  High neck line, very demure."  Dropping his voice an octave, "Good for hiding behind, I suspect." 
Attempts to avoid the handsome God, who was so close that his amber scent was swallowing you, were heading out the window.  Loki managed to make your body, your physical being, react to him in ways you couldn't overlook.  
Playing with the chunky statement necklace that lay on top of your turtleneck, intent on ignoring the mischievous man at your side,"Go away Loki."  
Flashing out a silent warning, your eyes peered into his, almost daring him to continue.  With a searching glance Loki settled in beside you without another word.  Too tired and too sore to spar with him, you turned your attention to the presentation Steve Rogers was starting, almost grateful for the droning distraction.
Feeling your eyes drop closed, heavy from your active night and lack of sleep, you struggled to follow Steve's sonorous voice.  Right now it felt more like a lullaby than life saving information.  You realized that this was the most comfortable you had been all day and mentally decided to let sleep claim you.  Apologizing to Steve would be easier than staying awake just now.
Reaching past you for a water glass, Loki made sure to rub his arm across your chest, waking you fully.  A stuttering gasp left you because your nipples, bruised and abraded, were purposefully agitated by Loki's intentional fumbling.  "Fuck, Loki!"  Whispering for him alone, you glared at his smug smile, now awake and more than slightly aroused.
"What?  Is something wrong?"  His innocent act was almost as irritating as the rub of your clothes against your abused flesh. 
"You know damn well what's wrong."  Steve was staring at you, clearly aware that you and Loki had both checked out of his talk. But it was too late.  The meeting was over, as was the workday, and you couldn't have been more relieved.
Rising as quickly as your bruised knees allowed, you scooted out before you could be chastised by your leader, trying to outrun Loki too.  It didn't work.  
He caught you outside the elevator, gripping your wrists tight, pressing his normally delicate fingers against the bracelet of welts you sported today."Shit, Loki!  That hurts!"  
Instantly releasing you, Loki pressed the call button, a frown creasing his noble brow.  "Did you put the lotion on today?  The cream I left for you?"
Tugging at the hem of your skirt, hoping no one could see your purple marked thighs, you denied Loki eye contact.  "No.  I forgot alright?  But, ya know, this… this sucks."  
Arriving with a ding, you both boarded the elevator, the conversation on hold.  In the privacy of the lift, pushing you into the mirrored wall, Loki's mouth dropped to yours.  Denying him your lips, you turned away, pouting a little.
Chuckling darkly, "Hard to get, is that it pet?  Isn't this what got you into trouble last night?"
"Don't remind me about last night.  How could I possibly forget?  Every time I move, every step I take, I can feel it, Loki."  Your words are angry but your tone?  That's whiny.  Loki's just so close to you.  And your body, betraying, pushes your chest out craving more connection, even if it makes you bite back a whimper.
Missing nothing, Loki's voice full of sin, "Are you saying that it's my fault you can't sit properly?  Or... that I'm the reason you're covered from throat to wrist?"
"Um…"  That is exactly what you were saying, but with Loki nipping at your earlobe you were forgetting why.  
Humid breath husked across your throat carrying the scent of Loki's afternoon espresso.  Tracing your jawline with his talented tongue, Loki tisked at you, "Am I the reason you can't walk straight this morning?"  Uh oh.  This is exactly what he wanted.  Admission of submission.  
His hand slid under your skirt, lifting it higher as he nosed against your jaw.  "Because I loved sucking everyone of those hickeys on to your body while you were handcuffed to my bed, mewling with need."
"Loki…"  You felt your center blaze to liquid life.  Nuzzling into your covered neck, Loki's arms course over your own, raising them over your head.  Pinning you against the mirrored wall of the ascending elevator, "Those breasts of yours, so soft, so full, are covered in my fingerprints.  I can still taste your firm, tight nipples.  Licking them and biting them while you cried my name was so enticing, pet."
God, you remembered it all.  Each affliction, each sharp touch, roaring to life in your mind.  Recalling the sexual adventures of the night before was making you weak willed and warm. 
Stopping at your floor, the doors parted on a thankfully empty hallway.  Taking you by the hand, Loki pulled you toward the room you shared, causing you to stumble over your heels.  "Keep up kitten…"
Holding the door for you, Loki slapped your bottom as you passed by.  Somehow your legs kept you upright but you still yelped at the stinging smack.  Fresh hurt washing over the embers of yesterday's rough play set you whimpering.
Coming up behind you, wrapping you up in his iron banded arms, "Take off your clothes."
Without waiting for a reply, Loki crossed the floor, shutting the bathroom door after him.  Your mind wanted to resist his domineering demand.  The rebellious side of your nature needed to, but your body was already flush with want.  
Interest piqued by Loki's behavior, desire drawing your hands to act without direct input from your brain, you slipped off your shoes.  With a sigh, your sore shoulder stretching, you shrugged off your top, letting it drop to the floor.  It was shortly joined by your skirt.
Popping his dark head around the bathroom door, "Darling?"
Seeing you in your underclothes, looking more exposed than if you were fully bare, Loki licked over his bottom lip.  Sexy as hell, that's what you were, covered in the lavender and scarlet stains of his passion.  Although, if he was honest, maybe he had been too rough on you last night.  
Turning as he neared, you noticed his jacket was gone, shirt sleeves rolled up.  Those strong forearms, which could hold you down and force your pleasure from you, or gather you into a bone cracking hug, were on delicious display.  Loki was so impossibly masculine in moments like this, it was no wonder you let him talk you into realizing your wildest fantasies.
Reaching for the hooks on your bra, Loki saw you wince, and it softened him even more.  As happy as he had been to restrain you, taste you, tease you, Loki was now over eager to soothe away your hurts.  Good thing he already had a plan in motion.
"Come on, dove."  Threading his fingers through yours, you trailed Loki to your shared bathroom, the warm scents of vanilla and coconut filling the space.  Almost overflowing, the tub was loaded with creamy lather, tendrils of steam rising from the surface.  It called to your weary body.
Brushing his hands over your shoulders, Loki kissed along the nape of your neck, gathering your hair to one side.  From behind you, he circled your waist, hands slipping under the waist of your panties.  As they slide over your thighs, Loki follows, kneeling in order to help you out of them completely.
With his sturdy size for support you stepped into the scalding water, settling in slowly with a gentle groan.  Sitting outside your bath, Loki used the same hands that had spanked your bottom pink to swipe sudsy soap across your neck, releasing the tension you carried all day.  Following with a soaked washcloth, Loki began to wash you, worship you, with each soothing swipe.
Shifting slightly, you gave Loki full access to your bobbing breasts, hungry for his touch once more.  Dipping under the water, you felt him ghost over your legs, his hands quick, never lingering very long.  You were cooing quietly, Loki getting high on the soft sounds escaping you at each pass of his palms.
To him you sounded like a happy cat, purring in pleasure, unwound.  Eyes closed, leaning into the back wall of the deep tub, Loki could swear you were melting.  "May I… may I wash your hair?"
His request was whisper soft, just shy of timid, and so adorable that your heart fluttered at his sweetness.  Biting your bottom lip, nodding, you put yourself completely in Loki's capable hands.  "Keep your eyes shut, dove."
"Yes…"
Pouring smoothly, Loki traced the flow of the water, separating your hair with his dexterous digits.  Heavily lidded eyes watched Loki, the God of Mischief, as he poured shampoo into his hands.  Once he was happy with the lather, Loki began working in slow circles, savoring the sensation of your scalp under his fingers.
"Tip you head back, sweetling."  Using a hand to keep soap from your eyes, just like a protective mother might, Loki emptied his pitcher over your head.  Shivering as the suds sluiced over your heaving chest, you were overcome by the erotic gentleness of your lover.
After rinsing your hair free of bubbles, Loki kissed your upturned forehead, then shifted so that his folded arms laid on the lip of the bathtub.  Watching you like that, resting his chin on one arm, the other playing in the cooling water, he was content.  
Reaching for his wet fingers, "I think you missed a spot, babe."
"Hmm… did I?"  Breaking through the scented suds, Loki's hand slid over your slippery skin, grazing your thigh.  Moaning gently, his light touch thrilling, you tipped your head back.  Enjoying Loki's quiet exploration of your body, his eyes never left your face, "Gods, you're gorgeous."
Smiling, "Aren't you the God of Lies?"
"I have no reason to lie to you, kitten.  And here, now, you are a beautiful water nymph.  Tempting and taunting me from your watery lair."
Laughing lowly, "I am no temptress, Loki."
"I beg to differ."  His fingers found your fluid folds, two entering you slowly, as Loki leaned in to kiss you deeply.  Skimming over your bottom lip, Loki's tongue licked into you, his free hand tangling in your clean hair.  Scented water splashed onto the floor as Loki curled his digits against your sweetest spot, soaking him, making you sing out.  
Gasping, you gripped the walls of the tub, letting Loki take care of you as your body shook through its release.  Safe in his care, cherished and clean, your body softened, satisfaction making you sag into the deep water.  When he withdrew, you sat forward, "Not yet, please?"
Using the ledge, Loki rose, chuckling as he lifted your chin. "Take a few more minutes.  I'll be back to dry you off in a bit.  Don't want you to get pruney, do we?"
"Hmm… no we don't want that!"  Sinking back into your warm, wet cocoon, you yawned and shut your eyes.
Too soon, it seemed, Loki was nudging you awake.  "Dove?  The water's cold now… come on, let's get you to bed."
Stirring, you saw Loki holding out a fluffy towel, ready to dry you off.  He helped you stand and made sure you carefully stepped out onto the wet tiled floor.  Wrapping you in the comfort of his big bath sheet, you giggled as Loki dried your tresses, then tucked the towel firmly around you.
Leading you to the best looking bed you had ever seen, Loki unwound your terry cloth covering, "Lay down, pet."
You did, happily collapsing into the comforter, laying on your tummy.  
"This might be a little cool at first…"  Loki's oil filled palms slipped over the sore muscles of your back.  Spending some quality time on your tenderized tush, Loki made sure to rub you in delicate circles, smoothing the liniment into your hot skin.
After sliding over the backs of your legs and each arm, "Very carefully roll over, alright?"
Muffled by the downy softness of your bedspread, "Yes, dear."
It took you a few moments to follow Loki's direction.  Your body was like melted butter.  Soft and pliant, all of the previous night's precious pains soothed away, you were a mushy marshmallow.
Fingers traced over the bites and bumps that marked you as his.  Stroking oil over your thighs, your belly, your bruised breasts, you let Loki work.  His magical hands anointing you with his attention.
Certain that you had drifted off during his massage, Loki kissed you lightly, gratified that you were comfortable and content.  Straightening, Loki stepped out of his trousers, eager to join you in bed.  When you felt the mattress dip to accommodate him, you turned towards Loki's warmth,"Thank you, babe.  I feel magnificent!"
Gathering you to his side, Loki curled an arm over your middle, his chest to your back.  "That pleases me, kitten."
Twisting around in order to face your mischievous man, "I mean it.  You take good care of me, Loki."
Twirling a lock of your damp hair in his fingers, "That was always the difference between Thor and myself.  I took care of my toys."
Pushing his shoulder, huffing, "I'm not a toy, Loki!"
"I know, I know, it's just I love playing with you so much… You are my favorite plaything.  My darling doll."
Pulling him closer, you pressed yourself to Loki, lip to lip and hip to hip.  You both let the kiss deepen, drawing you tighter together, when Loki tucked his forehead to yours.  "Sleep now, darling."
Nodding with a deep yawn, you let Loki wrap the thick blanket around you, snuggling into the security of his arms.  Arms that could bring you to ecstasy easily.  Arms that could rock you to sleep.  Arms that belonged to Loki... arms that belonged around you.  
To my Minxes:  @lots-of-loki @brokenthelovely @vodka-and-some-sass @iamverity @just-random-obsessions @archy3001 @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @thefallenbibliophilequote @mizfit2 @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @procrastinatinglikeabitch @peterman-spideyparker
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isnt-that-something · 5 years
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NOT MY CHILD
So I was deeply inspired by an ask answered by @bigoltrashpile​ about what their Mafia boys would do if their child had been abused at the daycare they had been using (Ask here)and I was particularly taking with Noir and Scar’s reactions. I asked and @bigoltrashpile​ said it was alright if I wanted to flesh out the scene a little more. Here is what I imagined for Noir. I’ll try and do Scar tomorrow some time. It’s my first fic (does this count? I don’t know) so I hope I did ok. Let me know if I messed up something, it’s late and I’m tired but I HAD to type it out before it left me. XD Story below the cut so I’m not eating up anyone’s feed space. I hope you enjoy!
Noir strode through the daycare doors, his face a teeming thunder cloud of anger. The call he had received simply stated that he needed to come to the daycare immediately, so help him if he was getting pulled out of an important "meeting" for another silly conference over juice boxes (GET OVER IT LINDA, NOT EVERY CHILD WANTS APPLE JUICE, GRAPE IS AN OPTION) he was going to box someone. Shock roots him to floor of the entry way as he lays eyes on his child, who was red eyed from crying and one swelling shut from a nasty bruise already forming. Shock passed quickly back to anger stronger and fiercer than before. His long legs made short work of crossing the room to kneel by his child. He gently sweeps his leather gloves under their chin to inspect the injury, already bright purple and deepening by the second with a deep groove craved into their tender skin cutting into their flesh in harsh swipe. As he opens his mouth to ask what happened someone else entered the room and his child violently flinched out of his grasp breaking eye contact to stare tearfully at the floor. He whipped his head to face the new comer. Eyes narrowed as he recognized newest staff member that the center had hired in desperation when they were left abruptly shorthanded when two of their senior team members had gotten married the previous year and were now on maternity leave welcoming their own little one into the world. His first encounter with her was shortly after her hire at yet another parent staff meeting, her smile had grown taunt and her tone terse upon introductions and she seemed confused as to why a skeleton monster was there in attendance with a human child. After she'd seemed to find issue with everything he had suggested be done at the center. In this moment she looked down at the two and explained in a fake sickly sweet voice that she had no idea what had happened to Noir's child but suspected that perhaps the other children didn't like that they had a monster for a parent and that they child was a victim of bullying. "You know how children can be, especially to someone that just doesn't fit in." she said practically biting the last words out.
Noir rose to his full height and stared down at her, his frown deepening as she took an instinctive step back with distaste flashing across her face. Under his stony gaze she tittered nervously a hand raising to flick her hair behind her shoulder, a ring with a large gaudy stone catching the light, his child flinched violently behind him. His eyes flicked down once again taking in the injury. All this washed over him, coupled with the feeling of his child's trembling fingers clenching the back of his slacks, left absolutely no doubt in his mind exactly who had been bullying his child and why: monster hater. Fury quickly overtook Noir and he broke free of his child's grasp and he advanced quickly to the new aid. His wrathful expression caused her eyes to widen as she was struck dumb with the realization that she had well and truly F'ed up.
He harshly grabbed her arm and before she could think to utter even a single word of protest he had harshly wheeled them out the door and into an adjacent alley. Indignant stutters flew from her lips has she tried to shake free from his iron grasp.
"Let me go this instant! Just what do you think you're doing?!" she shrieked in a high pitched voice that ended in a violent huff as he whirled her none to gently against the brick wall that was nearly as cold and unforgiving as he felt.
"I THINK THE BETTER QUESTION IS WHAT YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING. HOW DARE YOU LAY YOUR HANDS ON A CHILD. AND MY CHILD AT THAT!" He spat in her face which quickly lost whatever color she had left in her placid face.
"I-I don't know-"
" LIKE HELL YOU DON'T!" his hand flashes our like a cobra striking taking her wrist and yanking it eye level, nearly yanking her off the ground in the process, the gaudy ring flashing in the waning sun light tarnished by a flecks of blood that she had clearly not managed to properly wash away before his arrival. His grip tightens on her wrist and she gasps in pain and fear as her eyes rest on the damning ring that his eyelights were fiercely burning with their focus. Her mouth opened again to try and plead with him only to be cut off has he once again flung her against the wall, with more force than before violently knocking the wind out of her as she fell to her knees.
"SAVE IT. I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME LISTENING TO THE MEWLING WHIMPERING OF A WORTHLESS CUR THAT WOULD HURT A CHILD THAT WAS LEFT IN THEIR CARE FOR SOMETHING AS PATHETIC AS SPECIESISM." Noir snarled as he glared down at the pitiful creature kneeling before him torn between wanting to settle this "properly" against his need to go in and tend to his child. As his instincts waged war in his mind her quivering form and tear filled eyes made him think of how his child must have looked before her when she dared raise he hand to them. With that in mind he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He removed his gloves and tucked them in his pockets before suddenly backhanding her across the face, the brutal crack echoed down the alley way as she collapsed to the ground. As she shakenly pushed herself off the ground blood dripped from the five slashes cut into her skin by his claw like phalanges, four long and deep with the fifth short and shallow. She flinched violently as he loomed closer grabbing her face to force her to meet his eyelights heated gaze.
"I Want You To Leave This City And Never Come Back. Consider This A Parting Lesson And Reminder, Never Lay Hands On A Child And Never Let Me See You Face Again. If I Do These Marks," he quietly sneered as he flicked his thumb over the open wounds roughly "Will Be Here." he moved hand to span her throat and grasped it harshly. "Now... Run" Noir growled deeply as he flung the woman towards the entrance of the alley and as soon as she regained her feet under her she took off running.
He pulled a napkin from his jacket and swiftly wiped his claws before putting his gloves back on and made his way back into the Daycare to care for his child. After caring to their wounds with the sites med kit and making several calls. One of which to the horrified owner of the establishment who rushed in to check on all of the children while trying to make arrangements to have a replacement aid hired as soon as possible. She apologized over and over about what had happened and was absolutely mortified that something like this had even happened. Noir helped calm her as she was genuinely upset. He gave her some contact information of some people that would know some more suitable replacements and even offered to stay to help watch the children so that she could interview that day. Butch nearly died of a SoulStroke when he came looking for Noir and to "see wat's takin so damn long" and he came walking in to the daycare to see Noir divested of his suit jacket and tie with tots of various ages clambered over his body as he attempted to read "The Tales of Fluffy Bunny" to the giggling hoard of kids.
As for the aid... she took Noir's words to heart. She ran down the road, across the street, clearing blocks as quick as her feet could take her. When they failed her she quickly hailed a cab and told them "Take me as far from this damn city as you can!!!". She finally settled in a city hundreds of miles away, she paid out the nose for people to collect all her belongings from her former home and bring them to her new one. She was never able to get a job in child care again as her previous employer made sure to tell everyone that she was an abuser and a monsterphobe to boot.
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