Tag yourself as an egg I’m scrambo

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Janaina Medeiros
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@dirtybrxkenthings
Tag yourself as an egg I’m scrambo
dirtybrxkenthings:
It takes less than thirty seconds before her clothes are lying in a pile on the floor and even less time for his cock to make its way deep inside of her. The initial force sends her small body reeling forward, knocking the breath out of her and before she can even think about catching it, his fingers are lifting her jaw up off the bed, “You. Yo-you are.” Her words come out in fragments between the thrusts of his cock inside her. It’s an almost an instinct to submit to him now. The little resilience she had to him had been lost the night he first fucked her, and every night since had only made it worse. Her arms stretch out above her desperate for something to cling to but she only ends up grabbing a fist full of covers. She has to bite down on her lip to still the shrieks welling up inside her. The bed creeks loudly beneath them. Her small legs squirm as her lower half hangs off the bed, she’s trying desperately to balance herself.
It was so easy now to manipulate and rearrange her. When they had first met–when she’d been just a sweet eighteen year old girl, still with some spirit to her–John had enjoyed wooing her, enjoyed taking his time, kissing her sweetly, making her smile. Now, he enjoyed how obedient she was, how easy her body was to use. “Say it. Say I’m your daddy. Tell me who you belong to.” His fingers closed around her throat, not yet cutting off her airway–he did want to hear her speak, after all–but not making it comfortable for her either. She should be thanking him, he thought; with his grip on her airpipe, it would be difficult for her to start screaming too loudly and give them both away. Though at this rate, John almost hoped they’d get caught; with the door wide open, he could already imagine her brother’s shocked expression when he saw his baby sister being used like a breathing blow up doll.
The worst part of it all is the pleasure she gets from it. No matter how hard she tries to resist. It wells up inside her at his very touch, “You-your my da-daddy.” She only barely manages to speak between the loud gasps erupting from her mouth. Mercy’s breath catches in her throat at the familiar feeling of his fingers wrapping around her slender neck. Her small body can barely keep up with him and at every rough thrust of his cock into her the breath is knocked out of her. She writhes under him, her body trying fight the growing pleasure she feels from the way he fucks her, "Daddy." The whimper leaves her mouth almost on instinct, "Daddy.."
Hi. I'm Hannah and I have ten fucked up thread ideas in my head at all times. Plot with me???
“Hey, you’re home early!” Cody is sure she’s a sight to behold right now. Beaming with joy as the other steps into the apartment, she eagerly rushes to greet them with a hug. She wouldn’t look all that strange if it wasn’t for the cooking apron that can barely fit around her pregnant frame, and the flour that’s somehow ended up in her hair, “I was going to surprise you!” She was making his favorite and so far despite the mess it was all going rather well. Cody had never imagined herself as a housewife yet it was a role she was starting to fill out rather well even though they weren’t actually married yet. Cody had never imagined herself as a mother either, especially not at nineteen, yet now as she neared her seventh months it all seemed like it was meant to be, “Fair warning, you probably don’t want to kiss me. Your son has decided he doesn’t want to let me keep my food down.”
dark & twisted plotbunnies
you’re my stepdaughter & i barely know you because you don’t let me & i took you camping because it was your mother’s idea & when i finally get to know you i realize i relate more to you than your mom & we end up in bed together au
i am a serial killer by night & normal blending in human by day, & i am drawn to you, because you make me want to change when i kidnap you, but something inside of me never wants to stop killing, whilst the other half doesn’t want to kill you; but impress you so i am torn au
it’s the 30′s & i traveled the orphan train to the end of the line, & no one adopted me because i was too old, but then i met you & you showed interest, & took me off the streets where i was dumped, & gave me a place to keep warm, but there is this darkness in you towards everyone else, & i want to know why i am so special, & why you are so secluded but i fear the answer au
it’s the early 1900′s & i am growing up in an orphanage where we all get beaten daily, & multiple kids die whilst the matrons cover it up with false death reports, & just as i lose hope for my survival you arrive at the orphanage & my world lights up, because we vow to protect each other, & find a partner in all things, avoiding the matrons & discovering love in it’s purest form au
i flirted with you & then you turned me down, but i still told all my friends we had an affair so you shot me au
we’ve tried for a baby for months but you’ve miscarried twice & i am afraid to try again, because you are still recovering from our first two loses, but when we do conceive a third you don’t miscarry right away & we are both riding a high au
you’re my brother & you lost a limb to the war, & have ptsd but i am determined to make you better because we have always been close, but you are insisting on being difficult at every turn, & i eventually break through your walls & grow closer with you than we have ever been until we end up sleeping together au
you’re my cousin, & i think you are hot but i am too afraid to tell you, even though there is evident sexual tension between us whenever we talk, & eventually there is a party, & we get full on wasted & fuck, but you play it off like it’s meaningless so now i really don’t know what the fuck to do au
i run my mother’s house filled with foster care children even though i am in high school, because she only wants to sit around all day & get wasted so i take care of all the kids, but you keep hitting on me & sneaking into my room at night to tell me how much you are growing to care for me, & it’s wrong because i am technically your foster sister & i don’t know what to do because i can’t avoid you since i take care of you au
i try to sleep in my bed at night, but you visit me in your incubus/succubus form, & seduce me whilst i attempt to fall to sleep, & i don’t know what to do since i have slowly begun to expect your visits & desire them, but now i believe there may be ulterior motives for your visit & are you actually an alien, or am i just being delusional? & are you actually intending to create a child with me or what? au
The threads I have with the following blogs are going to be transferred to my new account over on @ofgoldandroses
@dimittcre (11 threads)
@loveisliquor (2 threads)
@savememxnster (6 threads)
@sncwflckes (3 threads)
As I believe it is my turn on most of these threads I will be replying from that blog and tagging the respective blog! However if it is your turn simply do that same. Write your response and tag @ofgoldandroses
It takes less than thirty seconds before her clothes are lying in a pile on the floor and even less time for his cock to make its way deep inside of her. The initial force sends her small body reeling forward, knocking the breath out of her and before she can even think about catching it, his fingers are lifting her jaw up off the bed, “You. Yo-you are.” Her words come out in fragments between the thrusts of his cock inside her. It’s an almost an instinct to submit to him now. The little resilience she had to him had been lost the night he first fucked her, and every night since had only made it worse. Her arms stretch out above her desperate for something to cling to but she only ends up grabbing a fist full of covers. She has to bite down on her lip to still the shrieks welling up inside her. The bed creeks loudly beneath them. Her small legs squirm as her lower half hangs off the bed, she’s trying desperately to balance herself.
“I never said I-“ She’s half way through her sentence when he’s picking her small body up. She’s barely over five feet and just under a hundred pounds so it doesn’t take much for him to lift her at all. When he throws her down on to the bed, it takes her a moment to realize which room he’s brought her too, “No, please, my brothers..” normally Mercy wouldn’t protest. She’s learned better than that but she does not want her brothers to find them, to know what’s been going on between the two over the last couple of weeks, “My father could be home soon.” She reminds him though it’s no secret that Emiliano prefers John to his own sons. Would it really be a shock to him to find Mercy and John together? Mercy’s eyes dart between John and the door, “Please.”
For a moment she thinks it will be okay, maybe she can placate him enough to get him back to his house. The longer they stay here, the more likely it is that Dante will want to finish things and Mercy doesn’t want another fight to break out, “Please, if they hear you..” Mercy’s eyes scan the hallways, waiting for one of her brother’s to come up and ask what the shouting is for. Her brother’s do not know about John. They still believe Mercy to be their sweet, little sister. If they saw half the things that had happened with John over the last few weeks, they would know she wasn’t, “He’s my brother..” she shakes her head, confused now as to what she was meant to do, “Do I have to choose between you or my family?”
“How do you always manage to show up whenever I haven’t eaten?” Shua asks as he eagerly tears into a slice of pizza. Now that he thinks about it he hasn’t had any real food since yesterday afternoon and the pizza is a welcomed gift, “I really am sorry. Just, you know, stressed out.” It isn’t much of an excuse but it’s all he’s got right now. He’s still half asleep and his body aches from the days rehearsals, “But seriously, I promise to be nicer,” he holds up his hand, “Scout’s honor.”
Mercy is shy, timid, jumpy. A stark contrast to the man fuming in front of her. Mercy backs into the wall when John turns on her. She’s used to being on the receiving end of his fury but that doesn’t make any less terrifying, “You were gonna kill him.” She wants to sound firm but her voice cracks during every word. She’s more like a tiny mouse facing a lion than anything else, “I just-I-“ it does not matter at this point. Whatever she says is going to be wrong. Part of her wishes she had just let John keep beating on Dante, now it is going to be her he is focused on, “You’re hand..” she reaches out to take his large hand into her smaller one and examine his bloody knuckles. Dante had gotten in a few punches but that was nothing compared to the ones he had taken, “Would you have killed him?” she asks softly, the fear evident in her voice as her doe like brown eyes look up at him, “If they hadn’t have pulled you off of him, you’d have crushed his skull.”
“Fuck you!” Norah spits back almost instantly at his comments. Nothing makes her angrier than being called overdramatic, especially in times like these. Norah knows she has anger problems but right now she doesn’t want someone to tell her to calm down, she wants to escape, “Too pretty. That’s rich.” Norah had never once thought of herself as being pretty or anything other than average at all. She was short, scrawny, her hair was frizzy. She had never believed a guy like Blake would go for her. She should have known something was up when he did. Sighing, Norah buried her face in her hands before running her fingers through her hair, “I am not nearly drunk enough to deal with this shit.”
Paris Bound | Delilah & Emerson
“Don’t remind me.” Emerson groans. She was still annoyed that she’d be in a country where she was legal to drink yet she wouldn’t be able to do that in her current state. Emerson sighed and ran a hand through her long dark brown hair, “Just promise me, we’ll still have a good time, right?”
Strange Love | Delilah x Isaiah
“Yeah well that’s what you get for having too much faith in me.” He says as he pops the cap on the beer and takes a long sip, “Not bad. Not bad at all.” He jokes and takes another sip. People like to tell Isaiah he drinks too much but he does not like listen to them, “Couple of months.” Isaiah says dropping down on to the bed beside her, “We redeploy to Iraq in exactly eight weeks.”
@iwritesiins
Mercy had known the moment her father invited John to dine with them that things would get bad. The two of them had been sneaking around for a few weeks now. She had yet to tell her brothers that they were seeing each other knowing it would likely cause tension. Dinner hadn’t been too bad but when her father got a call and had to leave suddenly, things took a turn. It was only a matter of time before Dante began instigating things. For as long as Mercy could remember Dante and John had been close but their relationship had become strained over the last few months, especially after her father begin giving important tasks to John instead of his own sons. Mercy didn’t know when the first punch was thrown but seconds later, the two guys where tearing into each other in the living room. It had taken three of them to pull them apart. While her other brothers held Dante back, Mercy led John up to the second floor to get them away from each other, “Did you have to hit him?” She asks once they’re standing in the long hallway that adjoins most of the bedrooms, “He knows you’re better than him, you didn’t have to hurt him.”
“No, they need a strong name. Like their father.” Sage is sitting on the pile of blankets and fur pelts that make up their bed. It’s late and yet outside their tent the night’s reveleries are still in full swing. The alpha’s celebrating the birth of another son. The festivities are bound to last for a weak at least. Normally Sage would be out with the others partaking in the reverlry but now that she was reaching the later stage of her pregnancy, she’d retired early for the night. This was her third pregnancy and though Sage was used to it all by now carrying twins was a new experience, “Like their brothers.” Sage mutters more to herself than him. Her focus is on the wood in her hand and the knife she’s carving it with. She’s made a fertility statue for each of her pregnancies, “You dont have to stay with me.” Sage says finally looking up to him, “Father will want you to be with him. And I am sure Ragana could use your company.” It had only been a couple of days ago that she’d miscaried another child. She’d never carried a child to term. None of Victor’s mates had, none except for Sage, “If you-” Sage sighs, setting her knife down, “If you stay in here with me it will only make Ragana feel worse. She is your first mate, you should go to her. If you stay here with your breeder, they will talk.” They already talked. Rumors that Victor was casting all of his mates aside had been circulating for years, ever since her first pregnancy, “Am I-Am I really to be Ragana’s replacement?” @preciouscrextures