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chickenparm · 1 year

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Freak (Ghostface/gn!Reader)

oh hey merry christmas. this is my secret santa gift to @dad-dumpster my beloved.

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AO3 Link

Ghostface/gn!Reader 3,663 Words - NSFW Phone sex, stalking, degradation, semi-public sexual acts, fingering, the mask stays on

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For tenpin, these are all 8.5 inches in diameter & can weigh up to 16 pounds

“What is a bowling ball. Duh.” A pause, then, “Damn I’m good. Maybe I should sign up for this shit, huh?”

The cat says nothing. It doesn’t even look at you. Why would it? Felines have no perception of Jeopardy Masters, even while being in the presence of one. Their loss, you suppose. Yours as well, considering you get the next question wrong.

With the rain rattling your window panes, the smell of a TV dinner and popcorn lingering in your apartment, and the thickest blanket you own wrapped around you, tonight’s shaping up to be a pretty good evening off. No plans with friends that you’d cancel at the last minute because they were made while you were in good spirits, no obligations, no work tomorrow-

Though, the blissful silence of your phone is interrupted by a phone call. The number isn’t familiar - its area code isn’t one that you recognize, but it’s not being marked as spam by whatever bullshit blocker came with the phone to begin with. So with a mouthful of popcorn and the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, you ask, “Hello?”

“Oh, you answered.”

“Thought about just letting it ring. Who is this? What do you want?”

“How rude.” As if cold-calling someone out of the blue wasn’t the definition of rude. But sure, go off mystery guy. He’s got a nice voice, even if his breathing is a little heavy and his words shake. It’s almost as if he’s nervous, but the quiet laugh that comes through the earpiece isn’t shuddering in the slightest.

“Alright, I’m hanging up. Lose my number.”

“Wait-”

You do not. And while there’s a rush of satisfaction at how you’ve cut him off, it’s short-lived with how quickly the number flashes across your screen again - except the last digit is different. Odd.

Answering with a sigh, you don’t get the chance to greet this person before he’s speaking quickly, “Let me just get… thirty seconds of your time. I’m not a telemarketer.”

“That’s exactly what a telemarketer would say, you know. It’s nearly midnight, don’t you have work in the morning or something?”

“Oh, sure.” The guy laughs again, and it’s almost sinister as it trails away. You can hear how his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he clarifies, “But there’s some business I’m trying to take care of, y’see.”

“Does that business involve bothering me on my night off? You still haven’t told me who you are.”

With a quiet grunt, you lift your legs up to prop your feet on the coffee table, nudging the popcorn bowl to the side so you could have room to cross at the ankles. The man’s breath hitches at the sound you make, and something just doesn’t seem right here. Clearing your throat as a sign for him to get to the point, he takes the hint.

“Maybe it’s bothering. Who knows, we might have a good time together.”

And if you were any less suspicious - and any more of an idiot - you wouldn’t have picked up on that sentence. It wouldn’t have put you on higher alert, and you definitely would not have been wary enough to listen closely and hear the slow wet sound that could be either someone rubbing their wet hands together, or someone stroking their dick.

You’re certain it’s the latter. It takes only one hand to beat his meat, and conveniently he’s got one available while talking on the phone. With a scoff, you confront him without delay, “Are you jerking it right now?”

“Nothing gets past you, huh?”

Against your better judgment, you come to the conclusion that the sound he makes when he has to grind his words out in an attempt at nonchalance is at least a little attractive. But then there’s the whole stranger-calling-you-to-beat-his-meat thing, and any semblance of your sick arousal at the situation goes out the window.

“You only asked for thirty seconds. Is that seriously as long as you can last? Loser.”

And he laughs. Full and from the back of his throat, the phone pulled away in an effort to keep himself from blowing your eardrums out with its volume. You don’t find it very funny, and with a grimace, you hang the phone up and block the number.

What a creep.

—

The sun is barely over the horizon when your phone rings again, pulling you from the sleep you’d only just fallen into. The number - unfamiliar, but not remote similar to the one from only a few hours prior - flashes across the screen just long enough for you to read it and pick up the phone.

“Hello?” A little more forceful than would be considered polite, except it’s just short of dawn and you’d been tossing and turning all night.

“Oh, did I wake you? I’ll be quick.”

God forbid you ever find this man, you’ll catch a homicide case. Rolling onto your back with a sigh, you ask, “Thirty seconds again? Don’t you have a hobby or something?”

“What if this is my hobby?”

“One-sided phone sex? Touch some grass, dude.” Palm pressed to your left eye, you hold pressure until your growing headache starts to subside. Then, you ask, “Do you need me to google you the number for a phone sex hotline? 30 seconds would be pretty cheap. I’ll even venmo you the money for it if you leave me alone.”

“Yeah, but their heart isn’t in it. They’re just after the money.” You can nearly see the way he shrugs, hear the rustling of fabric. Is he in bed? At least he’s comfortable while he’s ruining your night. If you could just make him cry, that would be just about even for all the grief he’s causing you.

A sharp inhale, held for a moment before he blows it out of his nose and confesses, “You’re just the right kind of mean.”

Oh fuck, okay. But also ew. Kinda hot though. A little. Mostly gross. He needs to know that was gross. It’s your god-given duty to call this dude out on being nasty.

“Are you shitting me right now?” Sitting up, sheets falling into your lap, you shiver from the chill in the air and the anticipation of what he just revealed. “You’re getting off on me degrading you? Making fun of you? No fucking way.”

“...yes fucking way.”

“You little freak!” Your laughter rings through the room, and you don’t pull away from the receiver like he’d done last time. You want him to hear this, to feel mortification at exactly how pathetic he just sounded. Whether he gets off on that too, you don’t care. “Is this a habit? Calling up strangers and getting them to tell you how much of a loser you are?”

“If it helps, no one’s been as thorough as you.” There’s a smile in his voice, the sound from the previous call is louder now. You’re on speaker phone.

“Did they know you were jerkin’ it? That you got off on them being disgusted at you?” An uncontrollable grin crosses your lips, spreading wide enough that your cheeks hurt from delight. Something in your gut twists, and you pointedly ignore it for the moment. “Pervert. That’s what you are. You’re out there taking upskirt shots of chicks on the train, I bet.”

The steady drag of his own hand pauses for a moment, before doubling-down and speeding up. A sick little thought crosses your mind that you want to see, to watch what you’re doing to him. His excitement spurs you on more, egging you further down the path he obviously wants you to take. And who are you to deny him, when it costs you nothing?

Chewing your cheek in thought, formulating the perfect words, you drop your voice a little and ask, “I bet you look real pathetic right now. Sitting there with me on speakerphone, touching yourself and begging for me to call you out on what a freak you are. A loser. Some lonely little pervert that can only get off when you’re humiliated.”

“Yes-”

“Do you think you’re going to get some reward for enduring this? As if I’d bother. If you were here, I’d kick you out the moment you were done shaking from getting off.” Sitting up on your knees, almost as if that would bring you to a position of power over your mystery caller, you jeer at him, “Or maybe I wouldn’t even let you. Maybe I’d bring you around just to watch you writhe like the nasty little worm you are, then leave you hanging. Perverts don’t deserve to cum.”

“Please,” his voice quakes, trailing off at the end into a breathy little sound that strikes you as almost pretty. Almost. A thick swallow comes through the line before he doubles back, “don’t do that to me. Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Jeeze, you’re a sad sack of shit aren’t you? Even your begging is lame.” The fingers that you hold your phone with are sweaty, nearly too slick to catch purchase on your plastic phone case. You grip it tighter, fingertips nudging the button that increases the volume until your ears are filled with the sounds of him frantically fucking his fist, his breathing laced with whines.

There’s a steady groan of bedsprings that suggest his hips are bucking into his own hand, rocking to the sound of his fist over his dick. You could make him groan louder-

“Fine, but only ‘cause I wanna know how stupid you sound when you cum. C’mon then, give it up. I wanna go to bed and you’re annoying.” Nothing at first, only the steady sound of his strokes. Your fingers itch to move in time, to smack his hand away and do it yourself because he’s taking too damn long.

Aggravated, you sigh into the receiver and push him further, “Well? I’m waiting. Get a move on, scumbag, I wanna go to bed.”

A choked-off curse comes over the line, and you can hear the sound of his release hitting something with its force. It’s likely the floor, but it sounded far too close to the phone and far too wet to be anything but himself. But, he’s already done, and he’s taken far longer than the thirty seconds he asked for.

Heavy breathing is the only sound from his half of the call. Impatiently, you wait for him to say anything at all, but it takes nearly a full minute for you to break the silence. “You’re welcome. Ungrateful one, you are.”

A scoff, tired and without any bite to it, “Told you, you’re the right kind of mean. Give me a second to get myself together. Jesus Christ.”

“You had sixty. That’s double what you wanted to start with, not to mention all my time you wasted in between just to get your rocks off, creep.”

Weakly he laughs. If you close your eyes, you can almost see the way he must be sprawled across a bed. Probably some mattress without a sheet, scratchy blankets and lumpy pillows surrounding him as he no doubt uses some sock to wipe the cum off his stomach. Gross.

What’s worse is you’re into it, throat closing at the thought of this pretty-sounding loser in some basement out there. There are probably ramen cups on his nightstand and a gaming computer in the corner that costs more than all of his belongings combined. Maybe you could ruin his life more - that’d be cool. Y’know, just keep him around for a while, string him along and take your frustrations out on this little weirdo.

Your quiet musings of how badly you plan to fuck this guy up are interrupted by him asking, “You mentioned venmo. What’s yours?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Well, that was better than a phone sex hotline,” a grunt as he likely sits up. Shit, even that sounds pretty. You nearly miss him offering, “and I’ll pay you every time you get me off.”

What a freak. By the time you get the notification that a payment has been received, your opinion of this guy has completely turned around. Well, maybe a little. If you can get paid and be a complete asshole? Well, that’s a win in your book.

Hell, you might be in love with the guy now.

—

Four calls later, you’re pretty familiar with your nameless, faceless phone-gimp.

While you’ve forgotten to ask for the payment each time, he hasn’t, and your bank account has never looked better for such easy work. All you do is listen to this guy jerk off on the phone while calling him a deadbeat piece of shit and you’re golden. Life has never been better.

But Forrest Gump said life is like a box of chocolates, and you knew it was too good to be true. One of the chocolates was swapped out for a turd, and you’re left speechless as your back presses against rain-wet brick, the world dark thanks to the figure that’s crowded you away from prying eyes.

Of course you watch the news - it’s too lonely in your apartment to not have something going in the background. So recognizing Ghostface is a no brainer, even when your brain is a little addled after an evening out with your friends. The stark white of his mask is all you can see, your pupils dilating as if it were as bright as the sun.

Terror is the smart thing to feel. And you’ve always been smart enough to be considered self-aware. So you’re terrified, shaking as your fingertips dig into the mortar between the bricks, as if having a handhold will save you. This guy is gonna kill you, and your little buddy on the phone is going to have to resort to phone sex hotlines because no one is going to put up with him like you have.

And then Ghostface speaks, and you realize oh, fuck. You’re not as smart as you thought.

“You didn’t answer the phone.”

Oh. Throat dry, voice cracking, you answer, “Uh… it died.”

“But it rang. You just didn’t pick up.”

“I was busy. I have a life outside listening to you jerk off-”

The mask nearly smashes into your face with how close he gets. The eyeholes should be see-through at this distance, but it’s so very black that you lose track of yourself while looking for what’s beneath it. If you weren’t so in tune with how he sounded at this point, you’d almost miss the sound of him sucking his tongue quietly in disappointment.

“I’m paying you, shouldn’t you keep yourself available in the meantime? I don’t think it’s too much to ask.”

And you’re annoyed. Because of course it’s too much to ask, to expect you to sit around your phone waiting to listen to Joe-Schmoe-Ghostface over here fondle himself while you let him know how grossed-out you are.

Or rather, lie about it. Really, you haven’t been that grossed out since that first time. And if your fingers travel elsewhere when he hangs up, he doesn’t need to know about it. That’s really not his business - the interaction ends with the venmo notification.

The sound of his sigh is louder when it hits the inside of his mask. Next to your head, his hands cage you in, and one leaves the brick to grab your shoulder. It could be innocent, if not for how quickly it changes with the slide of his wet glove to the base of your neck. The space between his thumb and forefinger press firmly, not enough to cut off your breath but more than adequate as a lingering threat to do so.

“But I’m not paying you now. So don’t think you can get away with being a brat. Consider this to be corrective action for poor performance in the workplace.”

Swallowing thickly, the movement difficult thanks to his hand, you watch with wide, stinging eyes as his other hand travels south. Across your collarbone, down your sternum, to the hem of your shirt where it dips beneath. Surely he can’t feel anything with the gloves on, but that doesn’t stop him at all. It makes little difference.

At your full-body shiver when his fingertips tease at the waistband of your pants, his head tilts to the side. Is it wonder, or confusion? The thickness of your thoughts aren’t able to be sifted into something coherent - only a constant thrum of excitement as you single-mindedly think about the potential for finally getting to see what’s been on the other side of your phone.

Centimeters at a time, his fingers push further, beneath both layers of your clothing and against the slickness of your arousal. Despite the chill in the air, his gloves are searing-hot against you, each of your nerves hyper aware of the way he casually strokes. There’s a smile in his voice as he murmurs beneath his breath, “I knew you weren’t as cold as you seem. You must really like me, huh?”

You want to rail against him and shout the complete opposite, to tell him that you’re drunk and addled and any old person could get you this frazzled. But there’s a time and place for that sort of thing, and the dynamic that’s existed up until tonight is insubstantial to the point of nonexistence. While before you might’ve held control, the drag of his fingertips against you speaks volumes of how it has switched.

And so, with a swallow and a shuddering breath, you nod your head and stare into the pitch black of his mask. What you don’t expect is his excited little laugh and the bump of his forehead against yours - cold and wet. It’s almost sweet, the closest thing you’ll get to a kiss while he wears that thing, and his middle finger pushes into you without preamble.

At the sudden sensation, your hips rock down against him, and he coos at you, “There it is. Sweet thing you are, I knew you weren’t prickly all the time.”

Without a moment to craft a rebuttal, his ring finger prods inside and your hand leaves the wall to wind into the fabric of his body suit, holding yourself steady when they crook just right. It happens with such ease that you’re unable to stop the whine of pleasure that bounces off the alleyway’s walls.

Ghostface could taunt you, he could demean you for being so needy all at once, but instead he strokes along that pinpoint spot that has your eyes snapping shut. The sound of his voice is all around you, encompassing with its proximity, the tone low and musing. “I thought to myself - surely something had to give. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when you’re mean. But knowing how you can be, it makes this so much sweeter.”

His head falls to your shoulder, mask digging into your neck as he lets you cling to him. The stretch of his leather-clad fingers is divine, perfect enough to satisfy as he works you closer to what you’ve pushed him toward so many times.

His voice is muffled now, the rain picking up and soaking the two of you steadily. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you beg.” Laughter, quiet and pleased, interrupts him for a brief moment. Then, unbearable softness, “You’ve been so good for me this whole time. I’ll treat you nicely - it’s what you deserve, after all.”

The hand that had once been at your neck now glides down your side, pressing into the dip of your waist before pushing beneath your shirt. With it hiked high enough to accommodate his hand, you should feel more exposed as he thumbs your nipple that hardens when exposed to the air. But Ghostface is above you, below you, inside and out. The rest of the world may as well not exist for all he’s managed to barricade you away.

The added sensation is nice, but it’s the speeding up of his thrusting fingers that send you into near-hysterics. Without a name to call, you can only bury your face against the side of his head and incoherently babble your appreciation for how good he is with his hands. For once, the only thing coming from your mouth is praise for him, and he positively preens beneath it as you clutch yourself closer.

“That’s it, there we go.” He has no right to be this soft with you, but he takes the liberty with unabashed confidence. “Glad I waited to hear you make these sounds in person. Wanted it to be special, y’know.”

With slowed fingers, guiding you down from your high, Ghostface gives you enough self-awareness to speak through a thick voice, “This is what you call special?”

“A little impromptu, I guess. Should I have brought flowers?”

And there is that snipping tone again, where he throws your attitude back as easily as you dish it to him. Rolling your head against the wall, you steady yourself as he pulls away and absently rights your clothes for you. Cute, you remark as he pointedly avoids wiping his soiled glove on your clothing. The air of the alleyway isn’t the nicest-smelling, but the coolness of it feels soothing as you inhale and respond, “That would’ve been appreciated.”

“Go home. I’ll meet you there with whatever I can pick up from the Seven-Eleven on the way.”

How romantic. Maybe you are in love with him, just a little. Stumbling down the alleyway, you feel his eyes at your back. Pointedly, you avoid thinking about how he knows where you live. Perhaps it’s better if you don’t look into it too much.

Just accept your flowers and try not to get lost in thought about how hard he’d been against your thigh, how badly you wanted to kiss him. Maybe he’s not the only creep here.

#ghostface #scream #ghostface x reader #gender-neutral reader #gn!reader #mind the a/n for content tags #gift fic #secret santa 2022

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mag200 · 1 year

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obviously this is on a different scale but like. this whole taylor/matty situation reminds me of when i had cishet friends who, after breaking up with boyfriends bc they hurt them personally (like cheating on them etc) they would suddenly tell me alllll about how that guy would be racist and antisemitic and homophobic and transphobic the whole time they were together and i'd just be stunned, like, and you didnt leave him for that?? you can excuse rampant bigotry but you draw the line at being cheated on. these were friends of mine who claimed to be allies to poc, to the lgbtq community, to jews, to all these minorities but then i found out they were happy to be in a deep relationship with partners who were the total opposite. (to be fucking clear bc i don't want anyone to take this out of context, yeah cheating is bad. that is not the point here and you know it.)

we've seen in the past some hints that taylor maybe doesn't know how to look into what criticisms are fair and what's just unchecked slander. i don't say that as an excuse, she's a grown woman, it's just an observation. the lyrics of YNTCD, to me weren't that serious of a situation, but did a little bit imply that she thinks someone being mean on twitter is in any way comparable to institutional bigotry. everything that happened in 2016 and the #TaylorSwiftIsOverParty was legitimately based on a complete lie about her (as we found proof of later when the unedited kimye phone call was released). so it doesn't surprise me that taylor has ended up in this place mentally where if people are making any criticisms of her or her friends, she thinks it's all just cancel culture and has no basis in reality. this is why i really doubt she is going to take these very fair criticisms of matty seriously - as long as she likes him and he's nice to her. there is no way that she hasn't heard about the racist and misogynistic jokes and the nazi salutes but he's hyping her up and she's having fun so fuck it i guess. she has specifically called out this type of performative feminism before but she is not walking the walk and it's deeply disappointing.

this is all coming out in the middle of the eras tour, what should literally just be a celebration of her nearly two decades long career of music and writing, and i would deeply love if i didnt have to care about her personal love life. "parasocial" is a word that gets thrown around a lot as an attack but it is 100% the core of her career, she built a parasocial relationship with her fanbase on purpose to get where she is today. this is why a lot of us have really deep feelings connected not only to her songs but to our perception of her. there's a reason she's invited fans to her house and she's sent fans presents in the mail and she goes out into crowds to hold people's hands and none of this is inherently an issue. however, it does make it a lot more complicated to separate the art from the artist. whether taylor understands the difference between criticism and slander or not, we are allowed to talk about taking issue with her choices, and it does not have to come from a place of hate.

people love to say that she's not responsible for the way some guy acts, which is true, and matty saying awful things is not the same thing as her saying those things. but it says a lot about her politics and how deeply she means what she says, that she is willing to have an openly racist, misogynistic, antisemitic partner. karma is your boyfriend or whatever.

#taylor swift #sorry this post got so long i just have so many thoughts rn #matty healy

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amor-immortalem · 1 year

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A Little Change is Nice

Pairing: Mammon x g!n mc

The winner of the poll for what I should do for Valentine’s Day was a fic!

Content warning for: implied sexual content at the end and a little bit of jealous Mammon (not to the point where it’s toxic but I still figured I’d mention it.)

A/N: A very specific happy valentines day to… everyone like myself who can’t find love outside of the second dimension.

・・・〆・・・

Valentines day is rolling around once again. Normally, it wouldn’t be more than just another day. That was until MC’d started their exchange here in the Devildom… Now, it seemed that everyone and their brother had a gift for them on this day. From racey letters to cards to huge boxes of chocolate, they almost start to wonder if the entirety of RAD’s student body has some kind of weird human fetish.

And the attention doesn’t go unnoticed by their boyfriend either. Mammon’s no stranger to receiving many a gift on this day himself but when he sees MC getting the same attention, it irks him. They were his human. The only person who should be giving them anything is him.

He knows they’re only accepting these gifts out of politeness- that MC only has eyes for him. So why does it bother him that much? Perhaps it’s because they two don’t celebrate this holiday like a typical couple might- he’s almost always too broke to take them out on some grand date.

Usually he and MC would just have a nice chill night at home, marathoning chick flicks like the Notebook while snacking on popcorn and the boxes of chocolate that had been given to the human by their classmates throughout the week preceding Valentine’s Day. This year has to be different, even if only just a little. Seeing the way his human graciously accept another box of chocolates, Mammon begins his planning.

・・・〆・・・

They hum to themself as they light the candles in their boyfriend’s room, trying to set a romantic atmosphere for the two of them. This wasn’t how the pair usually did things on Valentine’s Day but a little change was always nice.

MC even had to beg Lucifer to get the rest of the brothers out of the house for at least 2 hours tonight just so this special night wouldn’t be interrupted.

Spying the time, MC smiles to themself. Mammon would be home any minute now and they were just dying to see the look of surprise on his face. They take a seat on his bed waiting for him all dolled up in the nicest outfit they had with a little something extra underneath for the special occasion. Their DDD lights up next to you, a text from Mammon saying he’d be home in five and for them to be ready. They respond with a simple okay and wait for their first man.

He’s barreling into the room not five minutes later muttering something about being later than he wanted to under his breath. With how quickly the demon is moving, MC wonders if he’s even noticed their presence. It doesn’t seem like it as he yanks off his shirt before pulling on a second, more dressier button up. The human merely clears their throat and that’s all it takes to catch Mammon’s attention.

“Have you been waitin’ here for me this whole time?” He asks.

“You make it sound like I’ve been in here for days waiting on you,” they chuckle as they stride their way over to this half naked demon, “but yes. I wanted to surprise you for Valentine’s Day. I figured we could have a nice romantic dinner, just the two of us here at home, along with our usual movie marathon, and maybe a little something else later on… Unless you had made other plans for us?”

“As a matter of fact I did. I was gonna take ya out for Valentine’s Day this year as a surprise- booked a spot at a nice restaurant ‘n everything.” There’s a hint of a pout in Mammon’s voice as he looks away. “But seein’ how ya did all this,” he motions around the room, “I’ll cancel the reservation. No sense in havin’ all the work ya put in go to waste.”

“Thank you” Mc says as they press a kiss to his cheek. “Because I already started on dinner and it would have been a shame to let it go to waste. It should almost be ready so meet me up in the dining room when you’re finished changing.”

They take their leave after that.

・・・〆・・・

When Mammon makes his way down to the dining room, he finds the human waiting for him at the table. The meal looked great, a small roast that would be just enough to for the both of them along with some mixed vegetables and a basket of bread. He takes a seat as they pour out to glasses of wine.

“You really went the extra mile, huh?” There’s a small chuckle to his voice as he takes a glass.

“Well, you know me… If I’m going to do something, I do it right. And a little change isn’t a bad thing.” Mc sips from their glass. “Truth is I wanted to go out to a fancy restaurant with you but…”

“But?” Mammon quirks a brow.

“But then I realized that others would get to see how handsome you look when you get dressed up and I’d rather save that all for myself.” They give him a wink as they take a bite of the food on their plate.

There a soft snort of a laugh as the demon places his glass down. “Can’t say I don’t feel the same.”

The conversation drifts to the day’s events as the meal goes on.

・・・〆・・・

After the dishes were cleaned up and put away, the pair retire to Mammon’s room. The plan is to have their traditional movie marathon and snack on the boxes of chocolate they had each been given by their schoolmates this year but Mammon had other ideas.

Heated kisses are exchanged as his hands roam their body, pulling at their outfit to rid them of their clothes as he press them against his closed door while Mc’s hands do the same. When the human pulls back for air, Mammon litters their neck with kisses and love bites that wouldn’t fade for at least a few days.

“I think…” they pant, “think we should skip the movie and chocolates and move on to something else.”

The demon doesn’t respond, instead choosing to lift them up and carry them to his large bed for the start of a very long night.

・・・〆・・・

End

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me mammon #om! mammon #obey me mc #om! mc #mammon x gn!mc #obey me fanfic

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talonandelilah · 1 year

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Things begin for Delilah and Talon...

Lucifer standing the way he had, made Talon tense and he immediately grabbed Delilah’s hand. There was something going on, something Luc had anticipated, which didn’t make the demi-god feel too good. But that Arioch and Mithos had disappeared with him in battle gear meant that he’d at least shared his foreknowledge with a trusted few. That it was not more lent itself to the thought that it was not a true threat that he was expecting, rather a precaution to be prepared for battle. Delilah had tensed. She knew readiness for conflict when she saw it. Talon’s hand on hers had given her a sense of calm but she had still not felt truly at ease. “Are we safe?” Her voice low, her body leaned over toward the handsome male next to her, she inquired. It was not as if she had not faced danger in the past, but she had hoped that Imperium would be a break from that.

Gently Talon squeezed her hand and turned his face slightly to look at her, while able to keep his eyes sweeping the rest of large room. While there were enough warriors currently seated in the room to take on anything that came, he was taking no chances. “There should be enough wards and protections on the Palace to have kept anything truly dangerous out. Not to mention that you have Div standing there not looking too worried.” Talon nodded toward the deity.

Delilah looked and she couldn’t deny that he was rather relaxed. He and the darkly handsome angel next to him would lean over and say something to one another every once in a while. She had a feeling they both knew what had happened, but weren’t sharing. It was something about the expressions on their faces, the faint hints of a smirk, the way their eyes met one another’s, like a silent communication.

“Ok.” She answered finally, starting to relax as she looked back over to Talon, catching his blue eyes with her own green ones. She knew he was a demi-god but she thought he had the most beautiful eyes. They weren’t the typical blue, more like the color of the ocean at the Maldives. A rich blue with a hint of green that gave them a depth that was captivating. They were a blue a woman could get lost in if she wasn’t careful, and seeing how she was quite sure there was a Mrs. Talon, or someone who wanted to be, hanging around, she was going to have to be very careful.

For his part, Talon was finding it hard to read Delilah. He could have, easily. With his powers, he could have been inside her mind and reading her thoughts without even flexing his powers or even really trying, but he didn’t like that idea. Going into someone’s most private places like that, without invitation, always made him feel dirty unless it was interrogating an enemy. The stunning redhead sitting next to him was most certainly NOT an enemy, so he was going to have to use his other senses and skill to figure out what was going on in that beautiful mind of hers.

Finally Raguel had returned and informed them of what had happened, which surprised Talon and didn’t quite settle Delilah either. She still felt there was more going on, but what could she really say or do? As a new immortal, she really wasn’t sure of her role in anything, let alone her ability to either help or challenge a situation. That the ball was canceled was at least a stressor that was removed. She was an introvert by nature so huge gatherings were not quite her thing. Maybe Talon could show her around a little bit, introduce her to friends. Something.

After everyone was dismissed, there were discussions with Gail and Thenasus about maybe meeting up later. Deacon and Thinius both sounded like they were going to be having their hands full, so Talon wasn’t going to impose on that whole situation. As the two of them were finally leaving the dining room, Talon looked over at the statuesque redhead next to him. “So you are a weapons expert and a cyber geek, huh? Brie didn’t give me much time to get anything setup for ya, but I got a killer gaming system setup in my suite if you want to kick back with running some missions in any number of games.” He grinned over at her. “Or, we can hit the weapons room and slice, dice, or blow shit up. Lady’s choice. Tomorrow we go shopping and get your ass outfitted. And don’t worry that what you want can’t come off the shelf of big box, girl I got ya covered. My boys are way better than what the average pleb can buy.” Another grin. “Or ya know, there’s this big ass Palace to explore.”

Talon wasn’t as social as Thinius and Dez, but he had just about any gaming system you could want, a gaming PC that would make just about anyone drool, and a projection TV that kicked ass. He didn’t need to go out, he had plenty of fun on his own and once a week a group of the guys came over and they kicked each others’ asses at one game or another. Crowds weren’t his thing, especially not ones with those he wasn’t comfortable around. He preferred a few choice friends, or just playing alone. After everything that had happened the last couple years, he felt more secure that way.

For a moment Del stopped and just looked at him. During most of breakfast he had been mostly quiet and a little more serious after his introduction. Now suddenly he was chatty and inviting her over to play video games? This didn’t make sense, and Del hated anything that didn’t make sense. With what had just happened in the gardens, it made her uneasy. Her eyes narrowed at him, but she didn’t say anything. There in the hall they stood, he was grinning at her and his blue eyes were sweeping over her while he waited for her to say…something. If they had been paired up on what amounted to a blind date by anyone other than Brie she would have thought this was some kind of joke, but she knew Brie too well to think it was that. However, the sharp contrast between what she was seeing now and the quiet and reserved man that she had just encountered while they ate made no sense. Her head was having a hard time making sense of it. Hell, her head was having a hard time making sense of everything that had gone on that morning.

“I..uh…umm…I think I just want to maybe go to my room?” She sounded as confused as she felt when she finally spoke and immediately she hated herself. That shining smile on the handsome face of her escort disappeared and his cheeks flashed a bright crimson as he nodded.

Way to go Big T, make her feel all uncomfortable in the first five minutes of being around you, Talon mentally kicked himself. This is why you’re better at fighting than having many friends and definitely better at it than you are at women. “Sure thing. Sorry if I came off…uh…yeah..” Fuck, he was sounding like a goddamned idiot. Maybe he could talk to Thinius or Mithos or something and get some advice on how not to sound like a shithead. Olly even. Hell, even Dez had to be better than he was.

Talon put his hand in the middle of her back lightly and traced them into the middle of the living room of her suite. At least he had a few hours to get over the utter embarrassment of making a jackass of himself before the subject of another meal would have to be broached, that was unless she figured out how to start doing ordering from the kitchen, and then he was even more fucked. Hopefully no one told her about that yet.

“Ok, five hours till dinner. I’ll be by in four and half so we can figure out what we want to do, yeah? I’ll have a fairy come by to do your hair and makeup, if you want. They’re awesome and can get it done in like ten seconds, literally. There’s a phone around here somewhere that Brie says connects to my room, and we have cable…” Talon lifted his chin to the huge TV on the wall. “So…” he blew out a breath feeling uneasy and uncomfortable, his own doing. “I’ll let you you relax and get comfortable. Just a call away if you need anything.” He turned and looked around the sitting room to her suite before preparing to trace out.

Delilah felt like an ass. He was trying to be nice and she’d made him feel awkward. Classic move for her, stick her foot in her mouth when someone was trying to be friendly. She was the awkward one normally, so making someone else feel that way wasn’t something she enjoyed. The thought of sitting around with a hot guy, who was genuinely nice, and playing video games for an afternoon actually sounded fun, she was just nervous and the whole thing with becoming immortal, then coming to Imperium, and everything with the arrival of Lucifer’s granddaughter just had her all off balance. She didn’t want Talon thinking he’d done something wrong. Leave it to her to alienate the hot guy that Brie had set her up with, even if it was just to be friends and show her around. Someday she wouldn’t be such a disaster around men. Maybe.

Del had just reached out to grab Talon’s arm and apologize for making him feel bad and uncomfortable when they were suddenly standing in a darkened room that was lit by dim recessed lighting in the ceiling in a deep teal. Toto they were not in her rooms anymore and what they were in looked like a gamer geek heaven. This must be Talon’s room and she had to agree that it was droolworthy, much like the man it belonged to.

THE IMPERIUM CHRONICLES TAG LIST - @ceph-the-ghost-writer @kjscottwrites @writingpotato07 @saltysupercomputer @careful-pyromancer @late-to-the-fandom @autumnalwalker @perasperaadastrawriting @fearofahumanplanet @jessica-writes22 @dogmomwrites @mjjune @verba-writing @blind-the-winds @shipping-through-eternity @outpost51 @inkspellangel @blind-the-winds @sunset-a-story @writingmaidenwarrior @clairelsonao3

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pleathewrites · 1 month

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bellow the fire into my deadened lungs

chapter 4 excerpt — bakugou fights dabi as retribution for kidnapping him read full story here

“My crimes, for one. I don’t care what punishments you give me for my other crimes, but I already told you I want that angry kid to decide my punishment for kidnapping him.”

“Bakugou,” Eraserhead sighs, “It’s unorthodox.”

“Well, no shit. This whole fuckin’ thing is,” Touya is only slightly apprehensive, “So, what’d he say?”

[ When Aizawa-sensei asks Bakugou what he wants for retribution, Shouto is eavesdropping, and they all know it.

“I want to fight him,” Bakugo had answered.

Their entire class finds out when Shouto confronts Bakugou in the dorms.

“You’ll kill him.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, “Your lousy ass brother asked me what he wanted as penance, or whatever — fuck off Half ‘n Half.” ]

Keigo won’t stop fidgeting when he walks Touya to the police gym. His limbs are calm but his feathers won’t stop sharpening at the edges.

“Don’t interfere,” Touya tells him as he watches the kid — Bakugou — warming up, proper tape wrapped around his wrists and everything.

“And what if he kills you?”

Touya looks up at Keigo, and tells those golden honey eyes, “Then, he kills me.”

“Dabi, no — ”

Touya cups the back of his neck, “Kei, please,” He presses a soft kiss on the hero’s cheek, and tries to communicate how much he needs this with his eyes alone, “Please.”

Keigo’s always been good at reading his eyes, even though the hero doesn’t claim it. Keigo will rant on and on about how ‘mysterious’ Touya can be, but in the end, he is the one who backs out of Touya’s way with his own crystallized mask put into place.

Every step towards Bakugou feels like a fate signed in blood.

They fight with quirk suppressors. Touya is a long-range fighter with only dirty moves tucked under his belt, and Bakugou knows that. The second Erasehead gives the go-ahead, Bakugou pounces on Touya in the blink of an eye, and even if Touya was planning on fighting back, Bakugou leaves no opening.

He beats the shit out of Touya.

For both the longest and shortest minute of his life, Touya is in a world of pain — but that’s okay, because Touya knows pain, welcomes it in like an old friend. He wouldn’t be alive to tell his sordid tales if he didn’t know how to take a bit of agony.

The problem is when a drop of something akin to salt water falls into his heaving mouth. He’s pulled forward like an outgrown ragdoll by the collar of his shirt, and his body registers he’s no longer being pummeled into.

The relief never comes because, like this, he gets a clear view of Bakugou’s face through his — now — good eye.

The kid’s face is angry, it doesn’t take a genius to see that — but it’s angry in all the wrong ways. Bakugou’s face is wet, broiled red with tears and thick snot creeping into the seam of his snarl. There’s blood on the knuckles of his pulled-back fist, dripping down worryingly white palms, and when he reels his elbow backward, Touya catches how the quirk-cancelling bracelet around it has been broken.

“Should we see how fucking fireproof you are?”

Touya closes his eyes and thinks, maybe, this is the right way to go. Not out of selfish revenge, but instead to give the one he hurt some peace of mind that he will no longer walk in the shadows at the corner of his bed.

And then, Bakugou stops.

(At the corner of his eye, Katsuki catches a hint of red, and the only thing that fills his head is, “I’m here for you, man, I’ll always be here for you. Whenever you feel like this, when it gets too much, just know that you can come to me… come to me…. come to me, cometomecometome — ” )

Touya falls back with a dull thud to the mat and opens his eyes to Bakugou standing over him.

“Apologize.”

It’s almost quiet enough to blend in with the ringing in Touya’s ears.

“Wha — ”

“If you’re really — If-I-I need to know!” The kid exclaims, his bloodied hands open and fireless, “I need to know if someone like you — if you can actually feel remorse, and want to be,” Lethal hands grab at his blond spikes, and Bakugou looks like he’s about to have a panic attack with how heavy he’s panting, “Better — fuck! I need to know — ”

Touya’s scrambling at the mat before he thinks better of it, ripped staples be damned, and gets himself on his knees, “I’m sorry,” He looks up, and hopes Bakugou can see it on his swollen and stitched-up face, “I’m sorry, I’m so — I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” And he bows his head, words coming out with no way to stop, “I’m sorry, I should’ve never — you’re just a kid, and I took advantage,” He presses his forehead harder into the mat, “And I’m so sick with it, please, please, Gods — I’m so sorry, Bakugou.”

A deep thud vibrating off his head makes Touya look up, and his heart breaks at the sight of Bakugou on his knees.

Touya gapes, and wants nothing more for the kid to stand back up.

Instead, Bakugou whispers, “I’m sorry, too…” and he starts to cry.

Bakugou’s voice is on the edge of something too-much like the despair Touya lugged around for the past decade, high and throaty, holding himself like his own hands are the only comfort he’s ever been given, “I’m, fuck — so angry, I’m so angry, all the time, and all I do is hurt people, and all I can ever do is be fuckin’ sorry. I — You-you were right about me, and — ”

And Touya finally realizes his death is not the answer. He realizes his death will only add to the haunting weight of everything he has put this child through, realizes that death won’t call to an aching prayer, and it won’t stop the monsters Dabi had let loose into this child’s — this child’s — self-built sanctuary of a mind.

Touya darts forward, “No!” His own injuries scream and protest, but they are the last thing on his mind as he grabs bloodied hands to keep self-loathing nails from digging more self-inflicted punishment, “No, no, Bakugou, I was wrong — ”

Disbelieving eyes in the saddest shade of red stun Touya silent, “No, you weren’t,” Bakugou’s voice is just short of a whine, a wounded sound that Touya wants so badly to stop, “I’m just like you…”

Touya can sense the guards closing in, “Hey, look at me,” and prays he won’t be tackled.

He tries to be as slow, and as gentle as possible, when he brings his hand to Bakugou’s head, “Look at me. I forgive you, okay? I forgive you. You’re doing your best, and that’s all that should be expected from you, okay?”

Bakugou looks at him like he doesn’t understand, like he doesn’t want to believe the man he beat bloody and blue would spare him any words at all.

Touya pushes, “You’re nothing like me, kid. You could have killed me just now, ‘n I would’ve let you. But unlike me, you knew when to stop,” Bakugou starts to shake his head, and it jostles the staples that stick out crudely from Touya’s wrist in a way where he has to suppress a wince, “Hey — no, you stopped. You are not a bad guy, and I’m so, so sorry for ever saying you were.”

Bakugou sniffles and Touya hopes with everything inside of him that this world will finally comprehend how much of a child this young hero really is.

The hand Touya grips in his own squeezes slightly, as if shy he’ll pull away.

He only grips back tighter, “People hurt us — I hurt you. The people who were supposed to keep you safe, they are the ones who failed, not you. You…” The straw blond of Bakugou’s hair through Touya’s fingers reminds him of Toga so much, “You deserve a helluva lot better than what you got, kid. Hey,” He calls back when Bakugou begins to look down, “Don’t carry this with you, okay? Okay?”

And finally, Bakugou weakly nods.

When Touya lets go, Bakugou wipes a forearm across his wet nose and stands up to tell his teacher, “I’m done. I wanna go home,” And before he and Eraserhead walk through the exit, he asks his teacher, “Please send Recovery Girl to heal him, Sensei,”

Eraserhead nods, murmuring something Touya is too far away to hear.

The minute they’re gone, Keigo runs to Touya’s side along with the medical team to tend to his new wounds, “Are you okay?” He asks Touya, runs the tips of his gloved fingers over Touya’s swollen eye, and Touya shakes his head with a weak smile.

‘I don’t know.’

read full story here

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kolttonen · 2 months

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The psychological horror of Brand New's The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me - an album analysis, part 3/4

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

If they don’t put me away, well, that’ll be a miracle

A big part of the allure of Brand New's music is that it is written almost from the point of a villain. After the allegations about Lacey came up in 2017, internet commenters have come in swarms, expressing that Brand New's discography was filled with hints of grooming and sexually predatory behavior. The Devil And God is no exception, and the first lyric that comes to mind to many is the catchy opening verse of Jesus Christ:

youtube

Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face The kind you'd find on someone I could save If they don't put me away Well, it'll be a miracle

There are also the lines in the first verse of You Won’t Know, in which the writer describes himself as the origin of an undesirable chain reaction in a woman's life:

youtube

Your daughters weren't careful, I fear that I am a slippery slope Now even if I lay my head down at night After a day I got perfectly right She won't know

Or the ones in Luca, which allure to bad intentions

youtube

When I disappear do you fear for the sister I took? When I disappear it is clear I am up to no good

Archers also has an interesting line in hindsight:

youtube

Order your daughters to ignore me Think that will sort me And sweep me under the rug

On The Devil And God the narrator is often addressing the family of the women in question, while the women are referred to as sisters and daughters, never as their own people. This adds a level of shock value to the lyrics - the “taking of the sister” or things that resulted in a “slippery slope” are never explained, but it is almost as if the narrator gets off on the reactions of his actions.

Brand New wrote about women a lot, Lacey often expressing his tumultuous behavior with women in his songwriting. In his 2017 apology post, Lacey confirmed that he had had an addictive relationship to sex and had been a habitual cheater for most of his life, treating women he had had relations with disrespectfully and often not understanding the power dynamics at play between him and his sexual partners. This complicated issue is often present in Brand New's music, spanning from song lyrics that could almost be read as a tutorial of how to trick people into bed with you, to detailed descriptions of self-hatred for one’s own actions. According to my own impression, the topic is more prevalent on 2003’s Deja Entendu and 2009’s Daisy, but is not completely absent on The Devil And God.

As a Brand New fan who only started listening to them years after the aggressive cancellation of Lacey, I am inclined to view their music from a point of view that highlights the parts of their lyrics that could be interpreted as a person taking advantage of others. Some say you can’t get through a Brand New album without hearing lyrics about hurting women, but comments like that don’t turn me off their music in the same way it seems to have done for a lot of online commenters. In many ways, it almost has the opposite effect - the hints of moral decay and hearing the train of thought of the obvious villain in someone else's story is a unique component of the band's music which wouldn’t be the same without it.

The inner monologue on The Devil and God is anything but accepting, and because of that, I find its portrayal of a bad person comforting. The overall feeling I am left with Brand New’s more badly aged music is that the men who hurt women are just that, men. They are not devils or these big things whose actions should consume you, they are just men.

After listening to a whole song about hurting a child on Limousine, is it obnoxious to think that maybe writing about an accident that had nothing to do with Lacey himself, might have been a way to conceal some personal emotions about the alleged sexual misconduct happening at the time? The narrator being an alcoholic man accidentally killing a young girl could be just a more publicly acceptable framework for lyrics which in reality could be about damaging someone's sexual innocence in the desperation of your own sex addiction. Deflecting your feelings onto something else is easy - almost everyone has cried to a song or a movie or has felt too strongly about a contestant on a reality show. We all see and hear ourselves in different media and latch onto the stories which resonate with us the most, and creative people often create stories which reflect feelings they wouldn’t dare to voice as their own.

Writing about how you see yourself being a bad person is a suicide mission in a society where everything is taken at face value and nuance hardly exists, so it only makes sense to write out your emotions in a more complex narration, where the origin of them could be easily deflected. I don’t think Brand New's music is autobiographical in any sense, but I think it’s fair to say that someone feeling at peace with himself wouldn’t write an album like The Devil And God.

Absolution

The religious themes of The Devil And God are apparent and can’t be missed. Faith is a recurring theme on the album and the writer's relationship with God works as a great analysis tool for his feelings. Some of the songs read as prayers and conversations between the narrator and God, where the narrator asks questions in the realm of “Am I a good person? Are my actions rightful? What happens to people like me? Am I living a good life?”

The religious themes on The Devil And God revolve around knowing when you are not a good person, trying to come to terms with that and live your life with that knowledge. Limousine offers an awful story of a man who hurts a little girl and has to live with the guilt surrounding that. Through this morbid story the album works on feelings of guilt and remorse and begs the question “How will I get myself from underneath this guilt that will crush me?” The album studies this relationship between a bad person and God, and tries to figure out the nuances of living after an unfathomable nightmare happens. The album also explores the themes of dying and killing yourself (in Sowing season, You Won’t Know) and questions, who is welcome to heaven and who is not (in Jesus Christ)? Whose repentance is welcome, and is there atonement for all (in Limousine)?

The christian imagery around dying makes the album almost lighter - death is not the end-all be-all for the writer as it is also seen as coming back to a father figure (in Jesus Christ). Although The Devil And God is sometimes analyzed as a deconstruction of a man's faith in God, I happen to disagree - this album is neither an atheist nor a religion-critical one, and if you wanted to find one of those in Brand New's discography, you would have to squint your eyes and see all the way to 2017’s Science Fiction.

... continues in part 4

#Youtube #brand new #the devil and god are raging inside me #album review

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 322: IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor was all, “Kirishima please take Hagakure and Aoyama and put them away somewhere out of sight until we’re finally ready for the U.A. Traitor Plot.” Shouto was all “HEY DEKU DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT MAYBE YOU WANDERING THE STREETS LOOKING LIKE A GOTH PRAYING MANTIS IS EXACTLY WHAT AFO WANTS.” Deku was all “I’M SORRY I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY CRUSHING MARTYR COMPLEX AND ACCUMULATED TRAUMA.” Mineta was all “HEY DEKU YOU SWEET THANG, IF I COULD REARRANGE THE ALPHABET I’D PUT ‘U’ AND ‘I’ TOGETHER, ANYWAYS HMU 💖”, or at least that’s what fandom apparently thought he said. Everyone was all “WELL SINCE WE’RE BACK HERE IN KAMINO WE SHOULD DO THE THING” and did the whole “launching someone into the air to save someone by dramatically grabbing their hand” thing that everybody fucking loves to do in Kamino so damn much. Iida was all “[bombards me and Deku with feels].” Deku was all, “ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू).” I was all, “(;*△*;).” Horikoshi was all, “my work here is done.”

Today on BnHA:

oh my god.

so I finally went back to look at what I wrote up for 321 last week, and it’s a hot fucking mess lol, and I really don’t want to deal with that right now, so we’re just gonna skip it and go back sometime in the next few days or something because I really want to read the new chapter and I have no self control. I’M SORRY IIDA

oh my god he’s breaking out the narration word bubbles oh my god. shit is about to get epic isn’t it

has there ever been a chapter that opened with these that WASN’T epic? serious question. anyways all aboard the Feels Express I guess

YEP

I saved a bunch of other crying kaomojis when I was looking for ones to use in the “previously on” summary, and right now it’s looking like that was a good fucking decision you guys. if I’m going to be an emotional wreck I might as well do it in style ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

AND BY THE WAY!!

SHOULD I JUST THANK HORIKOSHI NOW AND SAVE MYSELF SOME TIME LATER. THE MAN ALWAYS FUCKING DELIVERS WHAT ELSE CAN I FUCKING SAY GODDAMN. IS IT TOO EARLY TO DECLARE THIS MY NEW FAVORITE CHAPTER? I SHOULD PROBABLY READ FURTHER THAN ONE PAGE BUT I’VE JUST GOT A FEELING

(ETA: it’s like. maybe my second favorite lol. A HUG WOULD HAVE PUT IT IN FIRST, I’M JUST SAYING.)

anyway so Ochako is releasing Iida, which is actually hilarious, because idk if you all know this but Iida can’t fucking fly you guys

like, I assume Ochako released him because she already knew that Kirishima was in place to catch him, but I really love this split-second of panic on Iida’s part where he’s all “HMM, IS OCHAKO TRYING TO KILL ME, ACTUALLY”

LOL THERE’S A THOOM AND EVERYTHING

that’s some plus fucking ultra on Ochako’s part right there. “IF THEY DIE THEY DIE” goddamn girl did you leave your chill in the same locker as Momo or what

now poor Kiri is all “DAMMIT DEKU ARE YOU PASSED OUT OR WHAT, I DIDN’T GET TO TELL YOU MY THING GODDAMMIT”

oh my gosh he is curled up so small you guys oh my fucking lord

RESIDUAL “LOST CHILD” FEELS FROM LAST WEEK COMING IN FOR A LANDING!! PLEASE MAKE SURE YOUR SEATBACKS AND TRAY TABLES ARE IN THEIR UPRIGHT POSITIONS OMG ( ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ ₍₎ ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ )

LMAO IIDA IS TRYING TO CONFIRM THAT OCHAKO PLANNED FOR KIRISHIMA TO CATCH HIM, AND KIRISHIMA IS ALL “NOPE I’M JUST HERE BY CHANCE BRO”

Ochako is the U.A. Traitor confirmed. Hagakure I am so sorry I doubted you. Ochako get over here. so are you Toga now or what

anyway so now everyone is running over before Iida can react to this casual announcement of his attempted murder. and now Mina is taking her turn, and Horikoshi is all “HEY BTW IS MINA CRYING ON THE LIST OF THINGS THAT MAKE YOU CRY?” and of fucking course it is, you bastard. I’m not made of stone

( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SLDKFJLSDKJ:LKWEJ

IS THIS THE PART WHERE I JUST START SCREAMING INCOHERENTLY FOR THE REST OF THE CHAPTER LOL. SURE FEELS LIKE WE ARE GETTING TO THAT TIME

OH MY GOD KACCHAN AHHHHH

I CAN’T OMG LOL I ALREADY GLANCED AT THE NEXT COUPLE OF PANELS, AND HE’S STARTING A WHOLEASS MONOLOGUE ABOUT ALL OF HIS DEKU FEELS AND OH MY GOD

“HERE YOU GO MAKESTE, A WHOLE CHAPTER OF ALL YOUR FAVORITE META TOPICS JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE THEM” THANK YOU HORIKOSHI YOU’RE A BRO (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ

SLKASODIFALWKFLKJ

THEY’RE JUST DEKU AND KACCHAN. holy shit you guys. because oh my god, but it’s like when Deku was talking to the Vestiges about saving Tomura, and he turned into his little child self because his heart and intentions were so pure?? and it’s like that again, except that we’re seeing them as their child selves because that’s who they are to each other?? like, not that they actually see each other as children, but just, they can see past all of the stuff on the outside and see each other to their cores, to who they are inside, and when they look at each other they each simply see the other boy that they’ve known their whole entire life. idk?? does that make sense??? DOES ANY OF THIS EVEN MAKE SENSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT WORDS ARE ANYMORE I’M JUST SWIMMING IN FEELS OKAY. I’M TRYING HERE

they’re just boys, is what I’m trying to say, I guess. just Deku and Kacchan. all the walls are down, all the gaps are bridged, and all it is is the one boy reaching out and connecting with the other, and just,,, (꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ)

OH MY GOD [GRABBING YOUR SHOULDERS AND POINTING WORDLESSLY] !!!1LK1

DO YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THIS IS YOU GUYS

HOW PERFECTLY FUCKING RAD. WELL LET ME JUST ENJOY THESE LAST FEW SECONDS BEFORE MY LIFE IS FOREVER CHANGED, I GUESS

GOD

CAN HE EVEN SAY THAT??? IS THAT EVEN LEGAL??? IS HE EVEN FUCKING ALLOWED TO SAY THAT. WHAT IS HAPPENING

OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

─=≡Σ((( つ ◕o◕ )つ

GET IN HERE, EVERYONE!!

Y’ALL HE REALLY DID IT. “BAKUGOU IS SUCH AN ASSHOLE HE HASN’T EVEN APOLOGIZED” WELL GUESS FUCKING WHAT. GUESS FUCKING WHAT, YOU GUYS!! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO ((((／￣∇￣)／＼(￣∇￣＼)))) AHHHHHHHHHH

OHHHHHHHH

HEH. I’M ALREADY DEAD, HORIKOSHI, YOU BASTARD. DO YOUR WORST. GO ON

YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON “US”, HE SAYS. ALONG WITH A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF OMG. KACCHAN, YOU STUDIED!! YOU UNDERSTAND!! PREACH!!

OH NO!!

OH WAIT!!!!

LOL I GOT SCARED THERE FOR A SECOND BUT ANYWAY! EVERYONE GET IN HERE!!! GROUP HUG!!! OR WAIT, NO, WHAT ABOUT -- [GRABS YOUR COLLAR URGENTLY] YOU DON’T THINK -- COULD THEY POSSIBLY -- !!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ARE YOU GONNA HUG!??!?!?!?! I AM NOT OKAY!!!!!!! !!!hgk

REACTION PANELS LOL EVERYONE ELSE IS ON THE EDGE OF THEIR SEATS TOO WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER

LOL OCHAKO

I KNOW THAT IN REALITY THIS FACE IS JUST BECAUSE SHE’S CONCERNED ABOUT DEKU’S FRAGILE STATE RN, BUT I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THE WAY SHE JUST DROPPED IIDA COLD THOUGH, AND I CAN’T HELP BUT FEAR FOR KACCHAN’S SAFETY LMAO. THAT FEELING WHEN THE CLASS PERV AND THE CLASS BULLY BOTH BEAT YOU TO THE LOVE CONFESSION. KACCHAN WATCH YOUR SIX

OKAY BUT LOOK, IT’S NOT THAT I DON’T LOVE ALL OF THE OTHER KIDS, OKAY, BUT CAN WE PLEASE!??!?! HELLO?!?!? MOMO, JUST -- COULD YOU JUST FOR A MINUTE --

NOOOOOOOOOOO

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, I HAVE TO SAVE SOMETHING FOR THE FINALE” HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER WATCH OUT, I’M COMING FOR YOU WITH A TWO BY FOUR!! NOT THAT I’M UNGRATEFUL!! BUT JESUS CHRIST, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT, AND THEN ALMOST DO THAT, AND THEN NOT!! OMG I HATE YOU

sure let’s cut to Thirteen then, yay. I mean I’m glad they’re alive lol, don’t get me wrong

(ETA: I think that might have sounded a bit sarcastic so I just want to clarify that I really am happy Thirteen is alive and on the job again lol.)

it’s just that if your name doesn’t begin with Baku or Deku I honestly am not interested for just these next five minutes okay lol. like I’m just gonna be completely honest. I am too invested lol, please, they were having a moment, JUST LET ME HAVE THIS PLEASE

OH DAMN U.A. GOT SWOLE AF

THIS SCHOOL HAS BEEN JUICING WTF. I THOUGHT YOU WERE TARTARUS LOL

I’m literally not even reading the speech bubbles though omg I’m so sorry. I really hope there is not a quiz, I promise I will come back to it later scroll scroll scroll

okay so they brought him back to U.A. and he’s all tired and out of it yes

oh goody Hagakure knows all about the security system

(ETA: is it just me or is Horikoshi really laying it on thick with the hints about these two guys lately? I’m on to you sir.)

THAT’S WONDERFUL NEWS. GLAD THIS CRITICAL KNOWLEDGE IS SAFE IN THE HANDS OF THE PEOPLE THAT WE TRUST

ffs Deku

WHAT WILL IT EVEN TAKE TO CONVINCE YOU THEN?? SWEET JESUS

-- holy shit, what??!

they know?? how did they find out??! holy shit???

I’m about to cancel the whole of Japan lmao. fucking try me dudes

-- THE PRINCIPAL!?

NEZU GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!! WHAT THE FUCK

“a ticking time bomb” tell you what, this man is just asking to be punched in the face. literally begging for it omg

(ETA: I have been advised that I misread this part; Rat Principal told everyone how safe U.A. was, but he’s not the one who ratted out Deku; that was “the rumors”, apparently. which, if I had to guess, were probably started by AFO.)

oh I see, so it’s to be Feels, Part II then

he looks so sad and tired and lonely and she goes right for the hand, god bless. though if Kacchan’s not gonna hug him, you’d think someone would at least. or is it because he still smells bad. hmm

AND THE CHAPTER’S ENDING ON HER LOL WELL OKAY THEN

I MEAN IT’S GREAT AND ALL, I LOVE OCHAKO REALLY I DO, BUT WE WERE PROMISED GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GODS, WHAT GIVES SOB. I WAS ALL READY TO BREAK OUT INTO SONG AND EVERYTHING. SURE, HE DID THE APOLOGY, BUT WHERE IS THE FOLLOW-UP GODDAMMIT

(ETA: just to clarify the reason for my rambling here, I was really waiting for the hero name reveal and the presumed deeper meaning behind it lol. but I guess that is a conversation still to come! and we still need Deku’s response to the apology too for that matter. lots to look forward to still.)

WELL WHATEVER, SO THAT IS THE END OF THE CHAPTER! SHOUT OUT TO MY BOY RAT “LET ME JUST TELL EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD ABOUT DEKU’S SUPER SECRET IDENTITY, I GUESS THAT’S ALL RIGHT NOW, NOTHING BAD COULD POSSIBLY COME OF THIS” PRINCIPAL. listen here you little shit

anyway but if you’ll excuse me... IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME. IF I COULD FIND A WAY. I’D TAKE BACK THOSE WORDS THAT HAVE HURT YOU, AND YOU’D STAY. I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID THE THINGS I DID. I DON’T KNOW WHY I SAID THE THINGS I SAID. PRIDE’S LIKE A KNIFE, IT CAN CUT DEEP INSIDE. WORDS ARE LIKE WEAPONS, THEY WOUND SOMETIMES. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T REALLY MEAN TO HURT YOU. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T WANNA SEE YOU GO. I KNOW I MADE YOU CRY, BUT BABAY, IF I COULD TUUUUURN BACK TIIIIIIIIIIIME...

#bnha 322 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #uraraka ochako #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #IF I COULD REACH THE STARS #I'D GIVE THEM ALL TO YOU #IF I COULD TURN BACK TIIIIIIIIME

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 09: Somnophilia (A Witches’ Brew)

Day 09: Somnophilia Title: A Witches’ Brew Pairing: Witch Shindou x F!Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: noncon, somnophilia, mind control, manipulation, drugging via potion, quirk use, Stockholm-ish, yandere Note: I stayed up late to finish this and now I am very tired. Hope you guys like 😂

Kinktober Masterlist

The first thing you hear when you open the door to the shop is the ding of the bell hanging above the entrance. You glance around and see an absolutely enormous amount of magic supplies, some you know the purpose of and some you don’t. Along one wall are floor to ceiling bookshelves, and there’s also a wall of magic potions and artifacts.

As you’re looking around, you hear the voice of what you assume to be the owner call out to you. He’s tall, with a muscular build and dark black hair and a smile that could light up a room.

“Hello, welcome to my shop! Can I help you find anything?”

“Hi, yes, I - “ You can’t bring yourself to finish that sentence, too embarrassed by what you’re after to even be able to say it.

“It’s okay,” the man smiles at you, and it's so warm that you can’t help but return it. “There’s no judgment here, I promise.”

“Well in that case,” you say hesitantly, “I’m here for a love potion.”

“Oh, I can definitely help you with that.” He motions for you to follow him to the back of the store. “My name is Shindou, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Shindou.” You tell him your name before explaining why you’re here. “The love potion - it’s not how you’re thinking,” you say quickly. “I don’t want to force someone. Just make it a bit easier, maybe?”

He laughs gently as he glances back at you. “I told you, no judgement from me.”

Finally you reach a door that he unlocks and opens for you to walk through. In this room is a large cauldron and a worktable full of various magic components. “Feel free to sit down, and we can talk about what you’re looking for.”

You choose a chair a respectful distance away from the worktable, but one where you can still see everything going on. Magic has always fascinated you, and you don’t want to miss the chance to watch it in action.

“Well, I’ve been having such bad luck lately. All of the guys I’ve tried to go out with have canceled, or dropped out of my life entirely. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Your voice takes on a slight tremble at the last sentence, the constant rejection finally getting to you.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” Shindou scoffs. “If someone doesn’t want you, then they’re idiots.”

“You really think so?” You give him a shy smile.

“Of course I think so.” He turns away from you as he picks out various vials and strange looking ingredients, laying them out in front of him. “You said you only wanted something to help you out a bit?”

“Yes, exactly! I don’t want to alter anyone’s mind or anything.”

His smile has a hint of a smirk, eyes darkening just enough that you can notice. But it vanishes in the next second, leaving you to wonder if you only imagined it. “You’re so good hearted.”

He takes a mortar and pestle, grinding something into a fine paste that he puts in a bowl. He also grabs a red liquid and a green liquid, measuring them out before adding them to the potion he’s creating.

“I’ll need a hair of yours,” he reaches out to you before pulling his hand back. “Assuming you don’t mind, of course.”

“No, go ahead, I don’t mind.”

His finger traces a line down your jaw, causing you to shiver a bit at his touch. He smiles at your reaction before grabbing a piece of hair around your face and pulling it out. It’s just a few small strands of hair, and you watch as he puts them into the bowl and stirs them up.

“Why do you need my hair?” You can’t help but ask. “I don’t mean any offense, just curious.”

“Oh, since you’re wanting a more general love spell, I’m adding yours so that you’re the focus of the spell.”

You give a quick nod at his explanation. You know nothing about magic, and his reasoning makes sense. The reason you went to Shindou above a handful of other witches was because he came highly recommended by everyone you talked to.

The smell of the potion quickly fills the room, almost overpoweringly strong. It doesn’t smell bad, but it quickly gives you a bit of a headache, causing you to stand up and walk just a short distance away in an attempt to find a bit of fresh air. You see his hands move quickly through finishing the potion, mixing it up thoroughly before handing a small vial to you.

“Thank you so much,” you whisper as you clutch the potion to your chest. “How much do I owe you?”

“We can discuss payment in a second,” he stares at you with a look of deep intensity. “Why don’t you drink the potion first?”

“Why, is there something that could go wrong?”

“Nothing bad, I assure you. But potions can have different effects for different people to begin with, and I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He steps a few paces closer, rubbing down your arm with one hand. “Please humor me?”

You laugh as you uncork the potion bottle. “How can I say no to that?” You throw back the vial, throat working as you drink the whole thing in one rush. It tastes much better than you would have thought, but once you finish the bottle, you feel yourself sway on your own feet as dizziness overtakes you.

The bottle slips through your fingers before shattering on the hard floor below, and your knees buckle. Shindou wraps an arm around you before lifting you gently, gazing down at you with a look you can’t place.

But you think it looks like victory.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Shindou chuckles to himself as he carries you to his bedroom using a secret doorway that only he can see.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you to come into my shop, sweetheart?” Shindou muses at your unconscious form. He lays you gently on his bed, trailing his hands down your body as he begins to undress you. “I was getting so impatient watching you look at everyone but me.”

He unbuttons your shirt and bra before throwing them over his shoulder, and then slips down your pants to reveal your lacy pink panties. “They would have only hurt you. I did you a favor, sweetheart.” He trails a finger up your clothed slit, causing your body to jerk a bit. “They won’t treat you well as I will.”

He activates his quirk slightly, fingers vibrating against the sensitive skin of your clit through your panties and drawing a deep moan from your throat. “See how responsive you are? Your body already knows you belong to me.”

He wraps a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deep kiss. He massages your tongue with his own, easily dominating your mouth with no resistance. His hand cups your breast, tracing feather light touches along your nipple and causing it to harden.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he moves down to your neck, sucking hard at your pulse point and leaving a trail of bruises wherever he kisses. “And I know you can hear all of this.”

As a response, your body trembles a bit in his grasp, and his chuckle is dark and amused. “The potion is doing its job. You're going to be able to feel everything I do to you.”

“This needy little body of yours is going to crave me.” He moves your panties to the side as his finger dips below, grinning as he feels how wet you are for him already. “Or maybe it already does.”

Two fingers slip into your heat as he kneels down, placing small kitten licks along your entrance. You let out a soft whine as you buck your hips up towards his mouth. “Since you can hear all of this, I’m going to explain what this potion will do to you.”

He curls his fingers up as he searches around on your inner walls, smirking when he finds a spot that causes you to clench around him. “I wasn’t lying when I said I could help you with a love potion,” he says conversationally, as if he wasn’t indulging freely in your body. “I just added a lock of my own hair when you weren’t looking.”

He lashes his tongue along your slit, licking up the wetness that has begun to leak out of you and nudging your clit with his nose. “The potion will make sure that you fall madly, obsessively in love with me, and only me. As it should be.”

And at that, he begins to slam his fingers against the spot he found, causing you to moan and clamp down around his fingers. Your hips buck back with his thrusts, and he knows you’re close already. You’re overly sensitive from the spell he laced into the potion, and when he sucks your clit into his mouth, you cum hard on his tongue, liquid gushing out of you that he laps up eagerly.

He doesn’t stop until you’re twitching to get away, body overstimulated and throbbing. Finally, he pulls away as he unzips his pants, removing them quickly and guiding his thick length towards your still fluttering pussy.

He snaps his hips in one quick movement, burying himself in your pussy instantly. “Fuck, you’re so damned tight,” he grunts as he begins to move. “You’re squeezing my cock so much that it's hard to move.”

His eyes light up for a brief second as he withdraws from you completely, glancing down at his cock and confirming what he’s thinking. There’s a slight amount of blood on the tip of his cock, and the sight makes him throb as he realizes he was the one to take your virginity.

He enters you again, but this time he makes short shallow thrusts as he tries to loosen your walls up a bit. The entire time, he strokes your clit with two fingers, activating his quirk and causing your head to fall back in pleasure as the vibrations run through you.

Finally he can move a bit easier, and his thrusts become savage, hard enough that your breasts bounce with every movement. You let out a broken moan as you near another orgasm, tears running down your eyes nd drool running out the side of your mouth. He grunts when your walls begin to flutter around his cock, balls tightening up towards his body as he reaches his own orgasm.

Your tight pussy milks his cock for every drop of cum in his aching balls, and he makes sure that he doesn’t pull out until he’s completely empty. He looks down at your fucked out form, cum oozing out of your pussy, neck covered in bruises and hickies. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful.

He gets up to retrieve a warm washcloth, using it to clean your body before he puts you in a pair of pajamas that he bought for you. After he’s done taking care of you, he goes to the bathroom and cleans himself up before climbing back into bed with you, pulling you tightly into his chest.

He holds you there, murmuring sweet nothings until you finally wake up, eyes fluttering open to see his face smiling down at you.

“Hey sweetheart,” Shindou murmurs as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Your face twists briefly into a mask of confusion, glancing around the room and at Shindou as if you’re trying to figure something out. “You - you gave me a potion, right? Brought me here and - “

You blush as you refuse to meet Shindou’s eyes, and you feel the deep rumble of his laughter against you. “Yes, I did. Is there a problem with that, sweetheart?” He pushes just a bit, wanting to make sure that the potion is in full effect. “I only did it because I love you so much.”

The look of concern and alarm falls from your face instantly as you smile back, rolling over to burrow your face into his chest. “Of course not. I love you too, Shindou.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @cissiewrites, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @emplosion22, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @armoredashley, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen

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wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

Text

I'm Yours, You're Mine | 5

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: Cheating, yandere!felix, sub!felix, mention of blackmail, public sex, pussy eating, guided masturbation?, fingering, hella jealousy, assault mention, jisung inclusion lmao

A/N: link to the gorgeous dress the OC wears made a super lovely anon thank you babe

GIF CREDIT

“What is taking you so long?” You grunt, walking into the kitchen to find the freckled boy pulling a tray out of the oven. At the sound of your voice, he springs up and flashes you a brilliant smile that explains just why he’s nicknamed the sunshine boy. You smile bitterly at the reminder. Oh, how you used to believe that.

“I just finished the brownies for the picnic, noona.” He chirps happily, looking so angelic, like a bad thought never crossed his mind ever.

Felix wants to take you on a romantic picnic date beside the river. He volunteered to do everything, making you both the food and drinks you’ll need so all you’ll have to do is sit there and enjoy the pleasant early summer weather.

Taking a deep breath, you steal yourself, preparing for the transformation you’ve come to expect from him. “Oh, we’re not going on a picnic. I changed my mind. I wanna go to the mall instead.”

You know the commercial, impersonal place would upset the sentimental boy, and that’s why you do it. The sharp fall of his smile makes your heart stop for a second and your body stiffen, preparing for an attack.

“What?” He asks gruffly.

“I need new summer clothes.” You try to appear nonchalantly.

“Can’t you do that any other time?”

“I want to do it today.” You shrug, stopping yourself from flinching as you see his jaw clench. “You promised you’d take care of me. You promised you’d do what I want.” You remind him of the promises he made after attacking you last time. The promises he made to make you give him another chance. You didn’t believe in any of his promises, and you were provoking him on purpose to prove that he can’t himself in check so you’d have a reason to call this whole thing off.

And it seems he’s getting there. “But we agreed on this date. I prepared a lot for this. I made you fucking brownies.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.” You accuse, and he flinches, his body immediately deflating as the anger rushes out of him. “No, I won’t. It’s okay. We can go wherever you want, noona. You just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

You didn’t expect this reaction from him. You thought he’d lash out again. Maybe it really was a mistake like he said, and you should give him another chance. You’re lost in contemplation when his soft, low voice breaks through to you.

“Would you at least try the brownies?” He pleads, his pretty eyes sparkling, making you believe that the universe truly is a cruel, uncaring place if the stars would agree to light up the eyes of someone like him. Still, you can’t resist the constellations reflected in his eyes and onto his cheeks, finding yourself compelled to lean down and press a kiss to his pouty lips.

You suck in a sharp breath at the exploding light that brightens his face at such a small action, like a supernova, blazing your cold heart.

“Okay.” You breathe, and he, giddy with excitement, cuts off a piece for you. You reach out for it but he swings his hand out of the way, wanting to feed it to you himself. You open your mouth and accept the food, biting a piece of it off and chewing it.

Felix watches you with bated breath, as if your opinion would win him a national baking competition. You’re scared by how much you’re enjoying his attention, and it scares you. It’s too easy to get addicted to him.

“How do you like it, noona?”

“It’s sublime.” You smile, the divine taste of the dessert and his angelic features could fool you into thinking you’re in heaven. How can one person give you such radically conflicting feelings? You feel like you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, not knowing if at the end of fall you’ll be greeted by the refreshing ocean water or the jagged, deadly rocks.

Felix’s smile gets impossibly wider as he giggles. “I knew you’d like it, baby.” He leans in to give you a peck that’s sweeter than the food you just had.

______________________________

You can’t find anything you like. Nothing at all.

Frustrated, you turn to Felix who had been following you obediently like a little puppy through the countless stores.

“I don’t know. Do you see anything good?” You huff, and he seems surprised by your question, not having expected you to actually take his opinion, albeit how last choice it is. You feel bad. He not only didn’t complain like he promised, even though you cancelled the picnic he wanted, but he actually hyped you up and showered you with compliments every time you’d try on something new.

“What do you like your girl to wear?” You tease him, knowing your words will bring a pretty blush to his face.

“I--I like dresses.” He replies sheepishly.

“Yeah? Like what? Show me.”

It’s your turn to follow him around as he bashfully picks out a few dresses for you. You notice they're all so girly and pretty with bows and frills and lace. Seems like he has a type.

“Do you want me to try them on, baby?” You ask when he hands them to you.

“Please.” He breathes, impatient to see them on you and you think it's adorable how excited he is. You don’t wear dresses, and you know you won’t wear these, but you try them on just for him, not expecting how much his reaction will affect you.

"Wow." He sucks in a breath, his widened eyes taking in every inch of you. Smirking, you ask, "You like it that much?"

He nods vigorously, looking at you with adoration and want you’ve never had directed at you before. It takes your breath away, how genuine it looks, compelling you to do everything in your power to earn it.

The dress is made of a pretty pink Chiffon material, with a pink bow circling under the chest and a sweetheart neckline that exposes your collarbones and dips down to show quite a bit of cleavage, serving to emphasize your breasts that Felix can’t take his eyes off of. The contrast between the light and princessy look of the flowy skirt, and the seductive neckline hints at a certain corruption of innocence begging to be undertaken.

But just as you prepare to be engulfed in the sparkly blue-green of the ocean water, you find yourself crumpling over the rocks as Felix pulls out his phone to take a picture of you.

“You and your pictures.” You comment bitterly, happiness gone. “Gonna blackmail me over this too?”

He gasps, and the hand holding his phone immediately drops down, as if he couldn’t believe you’d say that.

“What, did you forget that you forced me into this?” You mock, “I bet you’re loving this. Making me do this. Dressing me up like I’m your doll? I bet your little dick is hard right now.”

He shakes his head, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to deny your words or just defend his actions. Pulling him close by his jeans, you press your thigh between his legs and laugh when it’s met by his hard-on. “See? I know everything that goes on in your sick brain.”

“Just wanna be good for you.” He whimpers, but even as he says that, his eyes fall to your breasts and his hand reaches out to run over the neckline of the dress you have on.

“Of course you do.” You snarl, and he cowers under your harsh tone. But like a kid at a candy store, he can’t stop his hand from straying, his fingers trailing down to circle around your nipples pushing through the soft material of the dress.

Grabbing his wrist, you bring his hand to your mouth and take his middle finger into your mouth, sucking on it lightly, grinning as his knees buckling and a small whimper leaves his lips. He tries to push you back into the fitting room but you don’t budge, taking his finger out of your mouth and humming. "I suddenly want something to suck on. Why don't you buy me a popsicle baby? I'm feeling hot."

He gulps harshly, "Yes, noona."

________

Felix buys all the dresses for you and you keep wearing the pink one, wanting to make him suffer more through the trip.

You strut to the ice cream store, feeling unstoppable in your flowy dress with your lovestruck lover in toe, hand on your waist and eyes glaring at everyone, trying to fend off anyone who would try to approach you.

Felix sits you down in a booth at the far end of the store, hiding you from view as he goes to get what you want. You sigh, playing the skirt of your new dress, lost in thought about Felix and how you feel about him. He’s sweet, addictively so, but he’s volatile and that scares you. Would you pick him over Chan? What if he just wants you because Chan has you? Maybe this is some kind of sick competition for him. Or maybe it’s the contrast with Chan that makes you like him at all. Maybe you’re just upset with Chan.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud, cheery voice. “Noona, how are you?”

Coming out your daze, you blink, taking in the new figure. “Oh, hey, Jisung.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks giddily, eyes raking over your body, stopping over your breasts the same way Felix did, and lingers on them too long. You clear your throat, smirking as his eyes snap back up to your face as he flushes.

You’re quite aware of the crush he has on you. So better get rid of him before Felix comes and throws a tantrum. Unless…

This could be your chance to get back at Felix for what he did to you and for forcing you to go on this date. He can threaten to tell Chan on you but what is he gonna do to Jisung? Nothing.

“I’m just hanging with a friend.” You smile broadly, “Why don’t you join us?”

“Wouldn’t your friend mind?” He asks, already moving to sit down. You grin wickedly, “No, he’ll love it."

“Okay.” He sits down opposite you, unsuspecting of the storm about to come over. Right on time, Felix comes back with your popsicle.

“Oh, hey Lixie! This is Jisung. We work together.” You pull him down, ignoring the sour look on his face.

“Hey!” Jisung pipes up with a friendly wave that Felix doesn’t return. Felix pins the other boy down with a glare that makes Jisung shrink back.

“He’s just a little shy.” You reach over the table and place your hand over his to comfort him, a gesture that only makes Felix angrier and he in turn grabs your thigh under the table and squeezes it in warning. Turning to him, you pluck the popsicle out of his hand and take a big lick. “Hmm, this is tasty.”

You take the part of the popsicle into your mouth, giving Felix a wink before you turn to the other boy. “So, how have you been, Sungie?”

“Um… good.” He fidgets as you swirl your tongue around the popsicle in an obviously suggestive way.

“How's your girlfriend?” You ask, knowing full well that they broke up. His eyes follow your tongue for a second before he clears his throat and answers. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh, no!” You pout, lips cherry colored and glistening with melted ice cream. “That must be very hard for you, baby.”

You feel Felix’s hand clench around your thigh, but you don’t spare him a glance as you continue, “How have you been handling that?”

You place the popsicle back in your mouth, sucking on it enticingly as you eye Jisung up and down and wait for him to answer, but the poor boy can barely string his words together. “It’s--I’m...o-okay.”

Pulling the popsicle out of your mouth with a wet slurp, you smile while licking the tip of the treat. “I’m so glad. Hmm, this is so good.” You moan out, and extend the popsicle towards him. “Wanna try it?”

Jisung chokes on his own spit, and you can tell that a handprint will remain on your upper thigh from how hard Felix’s fingers were digging into your skin.

"No that's okay, noona." Jisung fidgets, and you know he’s rubbing his thighs together under the table. You ignore his refusal, pushing the popsicle towards his mouth. "Come on baby, open up for me."

He obediently opens his mouth despite his refusal, but before he can close his lips around the ice cream, you pull it away with a laugh. "Why don't you stick out your tongue for me?"

He sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes snap to Felix. You can only see the other boy from the corner of your eye, but the rage rolling off of him in waves more than explains the terrified look on your coworker's face. No, that wouldn't do.

Leaning over the table, your ass in Felix’s face barely covered by the short dress, you curl a finger under Jisung’s chin and turn his attention towards you. "Don't look at him baby. Keep your eyes on me."

He nods weakly and you smile, moving to sit back down when Felix grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his lap, a small gasp escaping from your lips as you feel his hard-on against your thin underwear.

Your grin grows bigger, and you grind down on Felix’s dick as you tell Jisung, "Now show me your tongue, baby."

The sight of Jisung’s glazed eyes and pretty tongue out like a cute puppy makes you moan a little, something only Felix can hear. You feel his hand move from your hip to your pussy, fingers rubbing over you now soaked panties. With a shuddering breath, you move the popsicle over Jisung’s tongue, delighted by how he doesn’t pull it back into his mouth until you tell him to.

"Such a good boy." You coo, and you feel Felix’s fingers slip under your panties to rub harshly at your bare pussy. Shuddering, you open your legs wider for him. "He's such a good boy, isn't he, Felix? I bet he'd never act out or disobey me."

Felix grabs your clit between his thumb and index finger and pinches lightly, making you jump in his lap and bounce on his cock, the two of you groaning out in pleasure and making poor Jisung whimper as he clutches hard onto the table to keep from touching himself.

Opening your legs wide, you order Felix, "Put your fingers in me. Wanna show you what you're not getting by being a brat."

His hand leaves the tight circles he’s drawing over you clit and dip down to your hole, plunging a finger right in. “Oh, fuck.” You shudder at the delicious intrusion and the thrust of Felix’s dick against your pussy, the both of you clearly wishing that was his dick instead of his finger.

“Feels good, baby?” You whisper back to Felix and he nods sharply, finger pushing in and out of you incessantly as if you’ll tell him to stop at any moment. "Yeah? Tell Jisung how it feels."

Felix growls against your skin, sinking his teeth into your shoulder angrily, not wanting to think about the other guy with you right now. But you don’t back down. "Tell him or I'll have him find out himself."

He stuffs another finger inside you, and obeys, voice grave and hostile. “Noona’s pussy is tight around my fingers. So soft and wet for me. Only me.”

You laugh breathlessly, bucking your hips against Felix’s hand so that your clit can rub against his palm. Poor Jisung’s hands were white from how tightly he was gripping onto the table, and you’re worried he would either break it or hurt himself.

“You getting turned on watching us, baby?” You drawl, getting his attention. “It’s okay. You can touch yourself.”

As if he was waiting for your permission, Jisung instantly sticks his hand between his legs, and humps against it to relieve some of the pressure.

“Good boy.” You murmur, and Felix abuses the spot he bit in your shoulder again, deeping the mark forming there and making his feelings clear about you praising another guy while he’s fingering you. "Did you fantasize about my pussy, baby?"

“Yes.” Both of them answer, and you laugh.

"Hmm, seems like you've got competition, kitty. Maybe I chose the wrong boy to play with."

Felix stops abruptly, pulling his fingers out of you and pushing you onto the seat next to him. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest, thinking that he’s about to make a scene. Instead, he slips under the table and pulls on your hips so your ass is at the edge of the seat. Yanking your panties off, he spreads your legs wide.

"Gonna prove to you that I'm the one for you." He buries his face in your pussy, angrily licking every little inch of it and sucking harshly on your clit.

“Oh, fuck---Felix!” You moan, grabbing onto his hair as he devours your pussy. “Good boy. This is exactly where you belong.”

From the barely open slit of your eyes you see Jisung frustrated and on the verge of crying as he’s not getting as much stimulation as he needs.

"Pull your pretty cock out for me baby.” You drawl, trying to entice him so he’d forget about being in a public place and give in to you. “Don't be scared. Noona wants you to be dirty."

He discards his fears, pulling his dick out and yanking on it fast.

“Good boy. Such a good boy.” You effuse, and under the table, Felix pulls back to slap your pussy in punishment, furious that you’re still giving Jisung attention even though he’s on his knees under the table eating your pussy out.

“Brat.” You hiss, tugging on his hair and pushing his head back between your legs, grinding your pussy against his face.

"Wanna cum, please." Jisung begs, and you tear your eyes away from Felix’s shiny and livid ones to look over at him. He doesn’t look pretty or angelic as Felix looks even under the cramped table and surrounded by the pink Chiffon as he ignores his need to breathe in favor of pleasing you. Instead, Jisung he looks sweaty and fucked dumb, his eyes barely focused and his jaw hanging open.

"Wait for noona." You gruffly answer, squeaking in surprise as you feel Felix’s tongue push inside your pussy, a growly moan ripping out of him as he feels your tight walls around his tongue.

"You are doing such a good job, kitten.” You purr down to your lover, fucking his pretty face.

“No, I can’t, n-noona… please.” He cries, and you glare at him. “I said wait.”

“Can’t….ahh...noona, I’m sorry….fuck, fuck!” He squeaks, body convulsing as little ropes of white stain his shirt.

Seeing the mess he makes, you’re tipped over the edge yourself, cumming on Felix’s tongue and closing your thighs around his head, trapping him there. Obediently, he stays still as your hips buck a few more times against his face before your body relaxes and your legs fall open.

Felix gives your pussy a couple of soothing licks before he pulls your dress down and emerges from under the table, his face glistening with your cum. Yet somehow, he still looks as delicate and beautiful as ever as leans into your hand cupping his cheek.

“Good boy.” You murmur, your other hand reaching out to palm his crotch when a wet spot surprises you. You raise an eyebrow "oh?"

"I'm sorry. I know you didn’t say I could cum. I just wanted this for so long. Wanted to make you feel as good as you make me feel." He sobs, thinking you'll laugh at him. But you find it so incredibly sexy and flattering. You never thought you'd meet a guy who enjoyed pleasing you that much.

"You did good, baby." You beam, patting his cheek. ”Sitting there while I flirt with another boy? Maybe next I just make you watch while I fuck him. How does that sound? I bet it will make your little cock so hard, you little pervert."

He shakes his head violently, getting upset. "No, please don't. It would kill me. I love you so much." He breaks down and starts babbling about how he never wanted it to be this way. How sorry he is, begging you to not do this again.

"Hush, my dumb kitty." You press your finger against his lips to stop him from talking. “It’s okay. How about we go home and get cleaned up then have some coffee and brownies?"

He nods gratefully, and you’re about to get up when you hear someone cough. You look in front of you and remember that you had a guest.

“Oh, Jisung. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” You say, pulling Felix up and ignoring Jisung’s protests, and walking to the door.

However, Jisung isn’t the only one with something to say. As you’re about to leave the shop, an employee intercepts you. You can immediately tell what he’s going to say from the severe look on his face.

“Please, don’t try to come back to our shop or we’ll have to call the police.”

You nod, cheeks burning in humiliation as you run out and drag a smiling Felix behind you to the car.

__________________

When you head off to work a few days later, you wonder what you’re going to say to Jisung. You had set off to work with a promise to Felix that you’re not gonna pursue anything with the brunette, but he weirdly didn’t seem particularly concerned about the matter, despite how upset he was that day.

Yes, you’d been extra nice to him these past few days, acting much more receptive to his affectionate ways and responding in kind, but you still didn’t expect that much change.

Your brain is buzzing with all the possibilities about how Jisung will react and your lover’s one-hundred-eighty flip in attitude as you step into your office, but then you realize that Jisung isn’t there at all. Asking around, you find out that he’s at the hospital. Apparently he’d injured himself while playing with a knife. You roll your eyes. That boy is a danger to himself.

Still, you decide to go check up on him at the hospital.

You expect him to act awkward around you, to blush and stutter and look away. What you don’t expect is the sheer horror on his face upon seeing you.

“Wow, did I scar you that bad?” Is the first thing you say to him once you’re inside his hospital room.

“Why are you here?” He asks shakily, staring behind you as if he’s expecting someone to pop out from there.

You frown, “I realize I may have crossed the line yesterday but I just wanted to make sure you’re alright."

“I’m fine. Now please leave.”

“Thanks, I’m so reassured right now.” You roll your eyes, moving closer to him. ”How did this even happen? How does one stab their own leg?”

But as you reach out to touch his shoulder, he screams. "Don't touch me! You can't touch me!"

"What's going on? You're freaking me out." You jump back, and once again, he looks behind you. "Does he know you're here?"

"Who?"

"Your boyfriend."

"Chan?” You ask, confused. What does Chan have to do with this? “He doesn't even know you."

"No, Felix. The one that was with you yesterday."

"Felix? He's not my---" Your face suddenly falls as a horrible thought crosses your mind. No. It can’t be. "Did he do this to you?"

Jisung pales and shakes his head violently "No. I told you it was an accident. Now please leave."

He seems to be on the verge of breakdown, and maybe you should try to calm him down, but your mind is in an upheaval right now, and all you could think of is running to Felix to prove to yourself that you’re just being crazy. He would never do something like this, would he? It can’t be. It’s simply outrageous. But then again his weird change in behavior, his volatile attitude that always keeps you on edge… No, that’s crazy talk.

Numbly you go out of the room and make your way to your car to head back home. You’ll talk to Felix and he’ll tell you how stupid you’re being, and it’s all gonna be alright.

__________

A/N: this chapter was written so quickly because of all the lovely feedback you guys gave me so yeah feedback feeds me

#felix smut #stray kids smut #felix angst #stray kids angst #yandere!felix #sub!felix #sub!idol #dom!reader

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 3 years

Note

Idk if you do one shots inspired in songs, but if so, Would you mind doing one with a Taylor Swift's song which is called "The 1"? With Mason Mount please

< i love taylor so much and i really hope i didn’t completely butcher this, but thanks for the challenge :) >

MASON MOUNT ONESHOT

the 1

( WARNING: little bit of angst and fluff?, swearing )

word count: 1.8k

Things don’t often go as we expect them to, and it’s often incredibly difficult to replan your life around that massive change and adapt your lifestyle so you can — in reality — live again.

It’s like trying to find your feet when you’re in the air — it feels impossible but you know with time you’ll eventually meet the ground again.

That’s what it felt like when you and Mason broke up four years ago.

You were fresh out of uni and at the time, you really thought he’d be it for you, and honestly, so did he. A break up thrown into the mix of having to navigate adult life just seemed to put a huge stopper on all your plans; the holiday you two had both booked for a weekend away in Ireland, the meals out with friends that you had to cancel, and the house showings you were set to attend.

Looking back on your relationship now, you realise it wouldn’t have been the worst thing to end up with Mason. All the years and effort and time put into loving him were — without a doubt — some of the best years of your life (at that stage in life), and did you regret it?

Not one single bit.

But four years is the perfect amount of time to heal, remove the salt from the wound and finish grieving.

But he was here. In real life.

You’d imagined running into him in the supermarket or on a night out with your friends, but a bus stop?

That one was weird. Mainly because you both hated catching the bus with a burning passion.

But it lead to a catch up over coffee.

It was a quiet place, out of the way of the usual lunchtime hustle and bustle in the city, and for that you were grateful. You could hear your own thoughts.

It was awkward at first, you couldn’t keep your eyes from fixating on his figure, his features, because four years can really change a person. He was much broader, his hair a little shorter, but he was still that same Mason you once loved.

You knew that because the first thing he did when he sat down was offer you that cheeky, charming smile that had you hooked from the second you met.

He’d asked how you were, and you answered honestly: you were living well, your best life, and to the fullest. And you knew and he knew that it wasn’t a lie.

He could tell by the smile on your face and the new, sparkling band on your wedding finger. He half expected that blow to sting a little — that you’d found someone and he hadn’t, but he was never one to be bitter whatsoever, at least, not when it came to you.

Instead, he offered his congratulations and the only inkling of regret he held was not being there when it happened.

I guess you never know, never know,

And if you wanted me, you really should’ve showed,

And if you never bleed, you’re never gonna grow,

And it’s alright now.

There was silence after that.

You had one thing on your mind, and you knew by the way he was looking at you that he was also thinking the same thing.

You took a sip of your coffee.

He mirrored your actions, seemingly startled when you placed your mug onto your saucer, the chink of porcelain against porcelain echoing around the small shop cutting through the previous quietness.

“I think I hated you for a while.” You murmured, and if Mason wasn’t leant over the table slightly, he would’ve missed the statement completely.

He nodded in understanding, his brown eyes shining with the faintest hint of guilt.

“I think I was so frustrated with the idea that we just…didn’t work, and I blamed it on you.” You paused, fingers twisting your rings.

He paused, mulling over his words, “And now? Still hate me now?”

You bit back a small smile and met his eyes, “No…I think it’d take a whole load of bad shit to get me to hate you.”

He smiled.

“That’s good to know.”

“I mean, I think it was a long time coming anyway, that break up.”

“It didn’t feel right for a while.”

“No,” you agreed, “as much as it hurt to admit, I think we just failed…as a couple. There was a point where we were just together for the sake of not giving up on the relationship, but with no real reason to continue.”

But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool,

And if my wishes came true,

It would've been you,

In my defense, I have none,

For never leaving well enough alone,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

He seemed to ponder over your words, and although he never voiced it, he came to the conclusion that you’d just put into words — perfectly — the itch that had been tickling his brain for the past few years.

“Despite that, you can’t deny that we weren’t something…” he started, before breaking off and shaking his head, as if the mere thought was ridiculous.

“We were something special. I think, had things stayed like they were in the beginning, that…you and I…” you waved your hand, tilting your head, and he nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Me too. I think…in another life we could have made each other happy. It would have been fun.”

The words ‘if you would’ve been the one’ echoed in your head, and despite the passive aggressiveness of your conscience, you found yourself holding back a smile.

“Water fights in winter and eggs with ketchup…perfect. I’d never have gotten tired of that.” You mused, and he spluttered slightly on his coffee, laughing along with you in what felt like a decade.

I have this dream you're doing cool shit,

Having adventures on your own,

You meet some woman on the internet and take her home,

We never painted by the numbers, baby,

But we were making it count,

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.

“Then again, who knows? Maybe you’ll fall over in the airport and some lucky person will help you off the floor—”

“You’re about to say something cheesy, aren’t you?” Mason covered his mouth, scrunching his nose in anticipation as you nodded.

“All this nostalgic bullshit has me emotional! I swear, just this once…just this once, and I promise you can laugh about it afterwards.” You swore, holding out your pinkie for confirmation.

He didn’t hesitate, and linked your pinkie.

“You’ll find someone else. It’ll be love at first sight—hey, let me have this moment…maybe love at second sight, knowing you… you’ll go to some really magical place and have the most amount of fun you’re ever gonna have…hikes, skydiving, looking after animals I’m sanctuaries…you’re gonna have the time of your life — like Grey and Swayze.” You sniggered, unable to hold in your laughs at the ridiculous scenarios.

Mason pulled a face, unable to hide a smile.

“Okay, okay. End of story: they’ll be perfect. The Chandler to your Monica or the Robin to your Ted. But, you understand what I’m talking about, right?” You asked, sighing out of frustration.

“You’re saying I’ll find my person.” He concluded, sitting back in his chair.

“Yeah.”

We were something, don't you think so?

Rosé flowing with your chosen family,

And it would've been sweet,

If it could've been me,

In my defense, I have none,

For digging up the grave another time,

But it would've been fun,

If you would've been the one.

“Like…your grandma and grandad. I want what they have.” Mason smiled.

“They’ll be pleased to hear that,” you said, “I don’t think they’re quite over us yet. You were too…you at family meals. They fell in love with you too.”

This time Mason really laughed. Really laughed. He threw his head back and the people working at the counter turned to look at him, fighting their own smiles at his carefree nature.

What you’d said wasn’t even that funny.

“Too me? Thanks, I think?”

“Oh, that’s definitely a compliment. You’re too damn charming for your own good, it’s a problem. You should come with a warning label on your forehead: EASY TO LOVE.”

“That’ll solve a lot of problems.”

There was silence.

It was relieving to say the least.

“That whole conversation was about four years too late.” You said, pursing your lips.

“Better late than never.” Mason murmured, his eyes trained on you.

The pressure on your shoulders was lifted. All the things that needed to be said were said.

As time passes, the wound heals — sometimes, but in your case, that was true, as hard as it was to come to that conclusion — and it suddenly became easier to recall the loss of what might have been without bringing you back to wishing it would be again.

It was nice.

“Would it be totally inappropriate—”

“Not at all.” You interrupted, shrugging at his raised eyebrows.

“You didn’t know what I was going to say.” He chuckled.

“I’ll have you know that years of knowing you granted me the issue of knowing what you’re going to say,” You said, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

“What was I going to say?” He challenged, “If you get it right, I’ll get you tickets to the next game.”

You raised your brows.

“Confident, are we?”

He shrugged, a smug smirk on his lips.

“I don’t think it’s totally inappropriate to be friends.” At your words, he slumped in his chair, hands going to cover his face.

“No.” He groaned, repeating the word like a mantra as you pumped the air with your fist.

“Three tickets to the next game in the bag.” You bragged.

“Honestly.” He whined, peeling his hands away. “Why are you so difficult?”

“You offered the terms.”

“Why am I so dumb?” He rephrased.

“Ah, I'm afraid only you can answer that one.”

“The brain cells I have left don’t have enough energy to come up with an answer to a question as philosophical as that one—yes, it was philosophical to me, okay?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” You promised, putting your hands in the air in surrender.

“Just remember who’s going to give you those tickets, yeah?” He teased, sitting up.

“Abusing your power, nice move.”

“Oh…shut up.”

“Weak.” You coughed, trying to disguise the fact you said anything.

He looked straight at you, highly unimpressed by your tactics.

“Very original.” Was all he said.

“Is it supposed to be this easy?” You blurted out, spitting out the words before you could rethink the consequences of them being thrown into the abyss between you and Mason.

He knitted his brows together in thought.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “but we were friends way before, it’s not hard to fall back into old habits. I think that’s why it’s so easy.”

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olderthannetfic · 2 years

Note

I wasn’t baiting I was being serious. I had a CC scream at me because I sent them an ask that made them uncomfortable. instead of telling me it made them uncomfortable they ignored me so I spammed them asking what was wrong with my ask and that’s when they started screaming at me to leave them alone and that I wasn’t entitled to their attention and I should take a hint. This triggered my RSD (rejection sensitive dysphoria) and I lashed out at them and now they did a callout on me my life is ruined. This is why I hate boundaries.

Ouch, nonnie. That whole situation sounds super unhealthy and awful!

I don't think boundaries are the issue here, however.

They and you would both have had feelings regardless of their stated boundaries. It is inevitable that we sometimes get rejected, and being rejected hurts.

From just this brief description I, of course, cannot understand all the nuances of the situation, but even just from this, I'm seeing some bad signs:

You "spammed" them instead of waiting for them to answer an ask? Most people don't like being bugged about their unanswered asks because it tends to trigger feelings of guilt and anxiety and/or they just hate the topic in the ask. You can check in once to make sure it's not Tumblr eating messages; after that, you should assume they saw it but prefer not to answer (which is their right). Even if this doesn't seem intuitive to you, you can memorize this rule. You've learned a painful lesson and that sucks.

(And no "I get anxious when I'm ignored" is not an excuse. If you're so anxious you can't function, that's a job for your therapist, not the CC who is ignoring you.)

But also, they screamed at you right away? This could just be a you problem. It's hard to tell from your description. But if this is also a them problem, it sounds like they may not know what their boundaries are until someone trips over one. They may be vulnerable and not someone who can easily tolerate the internet limelight.

A hair trigger for posting callouts tends to point to someone having untreated PTSD and other shit they need support for. It's not your job to support them, of course. You don't need to be happy about being yelled at. Nobody likes being yelled at.

But let's keep a sense of perspective: maybe there are things wrong with them that they also can't help and that make them lash out too. It might not just be about you.

Your life is ruined? No. Your life is not ruined. You are hurt, but this isn't The End.

That's just your brain lying to you.

You feel like crap, and that sucks, but you can still feel better in the future. You can still make new friends. You can still be in fandom or follow CCs or whatever else.

I was canceled, and it was traumatic. I still have some PTSD from it that turns up occasionally. I am still always finding random friends-of-friends who act like joining in on a years-old cancellation will protect them and wash them clean of sin. (Spoiler: if you hang out with people who need someone on the chopping block to feel good, eventually, that person will be you. Just saying.)

But I also have 10x the fandom friends I did prior to it. I've ditched a whole set of people who are stuck in feelings of being left behind and defensive. I've met a ton of new people I never would have in the past, so I both know a lot more about parts of fandom I never saw before and am able to tell a lot more people about fandom history and how I see fannish norms.

My personal boundary is that if you come up to my face, I can and I will respond... if I feel like it. Or not, if I don't.

I'm not going to let "boundaries are the problem" fly on my blog even if it's something your traumatized brain wants to be true and insists on. Maybe it makes you feel bad to hear that this is a symptom of your current trauma and not reality.

Too bad.

Hearing my opinion is the price you pay for sending me asks.

Go practice some self-soothing, anon. Watch a comfort show. Hang out on some other part of the internet that isn't where this CC is. Play a mindless phone game to anesthetize your brain when it wants to obsess. Go to bed at a consistent time and wake up at a consistent time. Get 8 hours of sleep. Eat healthily. (No, I am so not kidding. Food and sleep have a profound effect on emotional shit.)

You're here on my blog, an adult space, so whomever you are, you're old enough to set some mental health-improving boundaries for yourself. One could be not trying to interact with this type of CC so that you can avoid this type of situation. Or one could be sending one ask and then immediately going jogging or to a movie or to class so that you can't sit there fussing about why it hasn't been answered yet.

The CC doesn't owe you anything, but you owe some things to yourself. RSD is genuinely hard to handle. Be kind to yourself. There are ways to cope, at least to a degree.

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dorimena · 3 years

Text

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖕𝖙.𝟏

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; monoma neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 5.1k of filth,

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; nsfw, Overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, degradation/humilliation, cursing, cockwarming, crossdressing, school girl kink (?), mommy kink, pegging, cum play+eating, dom!fem reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; whiney Monoma, loud sex, Monoma in a skirt, soundproof dorms, mentions of other 1B characters, aged-up character, Monoma is 18 in this

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; this was meant to just be some long fic, but I find it easier to just divide it into 2 parts while I figure out how to write out the scene I actually wanted to get to. I got carried away. This is what I've been doing during holy week. My religious school would be ashamed of me. This has been proofread, but if there are still any mistakes, I apologize.

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦.; incomplete/in progress.

Monoma had a shit week.

It all started on Monday when his school pants ripped conveniently from the back as he bent down to pick up his fallen notebook. They didn’t even look like they would rip! So how did they...? All he could hear during his inner turmoil and growing embarrassment were murmurs of pity, whispers of curiosity, and his homeroom teacher calling his name countless times to send him back to the dorms to change. Permission slip in hand and underwear out, he silently nodded and made his out, all while ignoring a burning sensation in his eyes and sudden dryness in his throat.

(Walking out the doors with his blazer tied around his waist, he swore he heard a familiar giggle and mockery coming from a smart-mouthed girl.)

Tuesday came bulldozing so suddenly that it ran over him. Well, really it was Yaoyorozu’s canon that almost ran him over.

The day, in general, was normal, none of his classmates made comments about the minor incident the day before, well, except for Y/N who asked if he sent his pants to be fixed or not. (He didn’t, so she demanded him to hand it over to her.) He didn’t go back to the dorms after their last class, since he has to carry out classroom cleaning duties after he accidentally pushed Bakugou into the mud last week. No, seriously, it was an accident. First off, he didn’t see the mud. Second off, he was messing around with Kaibara’s quirk, which spooked Nirengeki who was somehow walking close by to the hot-headed explosion man- and… well, Monoma mistook Bakugou for Honenuki. For some odd reason. How insulting to his intelligence and great memory skills.

So after such a tiring task of brooming, wiping, dusting, and inspecting, he expected to be knocked off his feet with whatever Kendo decided to cook for dinner, not Yaoyorozu’s canon. God, and he shrieked! Who fucking shrieks?! He’s 18, he’s not supposed to shriek! Unless you’re pegging him just right-

Wednesday only sucked because you canceled your biweekly study session in favor of hanging out with the girls in 3A. Now, regardless of what people still say, he has matured and slowly grew out his competitiveness and “jealousy” over class A, and doesn’t really have much issue with most of them (mainly because Shinsou somehow helped him become more “friendly”). However, how dare you choose the girls over him! You’ve never done that.

(And whether or not he was moody and pouty is just a hallucination of yours, he swears it.)

The only bad thing, if you could even call it that, that happened on Thursday was that it slipped his mind how much time he had left to use Tsuburaba’s quirk and lost against his good ol’ pal.

Friday though… Friday was just really weird and he hated how it only felt weird for him. Maybe it’s pent up frustration with how the week went? Maybe it’s the pouty baby in him still being butthurt over Wednesday’s missed study date? Maybe it’s you staring at his legs and ass? Maybe it’s the way you look so delectable in your hero outfit? Maybe- well, now he was just overthinking it, and he rarely ever does! He was tempted on asking Shinsou to, y’know, brainwash him so he could forget this weird feeling of him feeling weird.

Now comes Saturday.

Today is Saturday.

Today is 10:06 pm on a Saturday.

You’re over at his dorm for the already mentioned biweekly study date. He should feel happy, considering you brought over some snacks, ordered take-out from his favorite French restaurant, even played with his hair every time you guys had the 15-minute study break.

But he’s not happy. He’s not unhappy, but he isn’t happy? Again, the weird feeling he felt the day before hasn’t really left and it’s been crawling around his skin, only getting worse when he saw you coming in with pants.

It’s not supposed to make him feel not happy, but you usually come over with a cute skirt or dress, showing enough of your thighs and panties to keep him up at night, fantasizing about them wrapped around his head, suffocating him as he eats you out so delicately or ferociously, littered with his desperate bites and kisses, making him whine out in horny pain-

“Monoma?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry as you ditch your phone to look over at your whining boyfriend. “You okay there?”

Shit. He must’ve gotten lost in his thoughts. “Yes, I am perfectly fine, darling.”

Now that’s weird. He’s speaking so softly, and he only ever does that after he’s cum at least a few times, or when he’s totally relaxed and ready to call it a night. Well, there are those few times where he lies and he speaks about the same.

Humming, you smile sweetly at him.

“Are you sure about that, baby boy?”

Oh, that sent a shudder through his body, his white shirt suddenly feeling too thick and his shorts feeling a bit constricting. In other words, he’s now turned on.

He stays quiet, however, because he feels like his voice will give away his actual feelings, whether it continues being soft or it decides to crack and show how he’s ready to give himself away to you.

“Neito. I asked you a question.”

“No, mommy! I-I mean, I don’t know…” He huffed out, embarrassment now outweighing his neediness. God, why did you have to pull out the mommy card?! You’re so wicked. Did you not know how horrible his week was and now you want to be mean to him?

“What do you mean by that, baby?”

“Well, I’ve had a horrible week, mommy! You should know that!”

“Don’t dare yell at me, Neito. Mommy’s trying to be patient and understanding, but if you’re going to just be a brat, then I should just leave you in time out, right?” Monoma gawked, his whole body and attention turned towards you as you got off of his bed, arms crossed and disappointment showing on your face. Really? You’re disappointed? Just as he opened his mouth to talk back, you spoke first.

“And here I brought one last gift for you. I’m here trying to be such a caring, doting girlfriend, and you start making assumptions about my efforts? Bad boy!”

Wait, gift? These were gifts? Oh! You… you were trying to comfort him? God, guess he was a bad boy.

Seeing him deflate, eyes losing whatever snark they possessed, you sigh and walk towards your bag near the door. And this made him stand up so quickly he lost his footing and slightly fell forward, shocked that you could be leaving already, which you aren’t. Startled by his sudden movement, you quickly take out a plastic bag and hold it in front of him to show the last gift.

It was quiet between you two, staring at each other before looking down at what you are holding.

“What is that?” He’s the first to speak, blinking as he tries to figure out what the dark blue item could possibly be. It’s pleated, though, so-

“Is it the skirt you’ll change into?” And you laugh, shaking your head as you walk back to the bed and sit.

“Not me, baby. You will change into it.” He’s going to be wearing a skirt?

Blinking once more in confusion, he giggles awkwardly before frowning.

“You’re joking, right?” Now it’s your turn to frown.

“No.” And you smile confidently. “I promise, if you wear the outfit in here, it’ll lead us to the actual last gift, hm?” You bat your eyelashes like a little girl asking her dad for a new Barbie doll, or whatever it is they bat their eyelashes for. You’re curious to see what he’ll do.

And you didn’t have to wait long for his decision to be made.

Sitting on your naked lap, thighs trembling in either overexertion or overstimulation, is a certain sweaty, defiled blond male with gorgeous teary, periwinkle eyes trying their best to focus down on you.

After he swiftly and elegantly changed into the outfit, it came to show on his mirror that this wasn’t some random crop top and skirt combo, but a whole schoolgirl uniform: apart from a cropped school girl top and the pleated navy skirt, there were white thigh highs and cute hair clips.

Turns out, you misunderstood his ‘subtle’ hints of some kinky schoolgirl skirt sex; you thought he was offering, with the way he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at you and stare at your skirt during lunch. Really, he was implying you stay with it on, somehow.

Regardless of who was wrong, the fact your pretty boy is squirming uncontrollably with your strap-on deep inside him is something you just have to engrave in your mind. Who knows when you’ll be able to buy another skirt his size? You can’t wait to render it useless.

“Y-You’ve been thin-thinking for too-oo long!” Monoma whines, bringing a hand to wipe away his bothersome tears he doesn’t want you to see, huffing at the end before moaning loudly as you roll your hips upwards, the tip of the dildo teasing his sweet spot.

“Mm, I didn’t say you can speak yet, did I? Guess mommy spoiled you too much.” Sneering, you shift on the bedsheets under you while placing your hands on his thighs, slowly raking your nails upwards. You try your best to avoid the white thigh-high socks, not wanting to make him ticklish and forget why you’re even touching him there.

Monoma shakingly gasps, squirming even more as he tries to have his pathetic, precum weeping dick grab the attention of either one of your hands but ends up staining the clothing covering it. Rolling your eyes, you smack the hairless skin hard enough to watch it quickly flush red and hear him groan, whether in pain, arousal or both.

“Stop it. You’re making me angry with how selfish you’re being. Isn’t mommy supposed to be satisfied first? Or did you forget our rules, baby?”

“N-no! No! No, I- no!” Is whining all that he can do? He’s been whining or moaning for the past hour, with the occasional groans or gasps. You don’t want him to only whine, you need to see him cry.

Cry prettily as he did on Monday when he thought no one was looking back at the dorms. Watch him struggle to keep his whimpers of humiliation at bay. Make him forget all about his silly pride and stupid competitiveness against a class who doesn’t really see him as a threat, but just a crazy motherfucker (or so says Hagakure.)

“No what, Neito? ‘No mommy! I do know the rules!’ or ‘No mommy! I forgot the rules!’ C’mon, baby. I thought you knew how to speak properly? Now you’re making Bakugou seem eloquent.”

Oh no, you’re upset at him. Monoma gasps in offense, though, at the implication that the anger and pride-driven Bakugou is better than him at speaking. Ouch, okay, that actually kind of hurt but it was kinda hot? Kinda not? What’s wrong with him?

Yeah, what’s wrong with him? You’re expecting him to go on with his speech of how Bakugou isn’t anywhere near his expertise and social skills, how he’s clearly more coherent than the other, or the typical ‘how dare you’ sentences. What you didn’t expect was him to whimper and clasp his hands together as if asking for forgiveness so soon.

“No mo-mommy! I do know! Th-The rules, th-that is! I know ‘em!”

“Then you’ll stop moving so much and let mommy continue marking you? If you do, and I’ll be repeating this for the last time, Neito, mommy might let you cum first, mm? Sounds good?”

“Ye-ES!” Okay, maybe you should’ve waited until he answered to land another slap on his thighs, although this one was close to his dick. Oh well, at least he’s making other sounds, but no struggle or tears.

Leaving nail marks around the pale, smooth skin, even carving your name on both thighs with light scratches, you’re in awe at how he’s trying not to move too much. Then again, he is your sweet baby boy, who thrives and gets off of making you proud of him and cumming because of him.

Lifting your eyes from the satisfying reddening skin to his face, you’re struck with awe again: finally, as if some god were listening to your wishes, you see him blinking rapidly as a new batch of tears quickly accumulate on his lashline and slowly trickle down his red cheeks before being furiously wiped away by him. Seems like this has been going on for a bit, seeing how his eyes are slightly red and his hands, clasped back together, if not tighter, look kind of wet. He didn’t want you to know he was trying not to cry and then failed so beautifully.

Gosh, and here you were expecting him to be a brat, to defy your authority over him, to challenge you like he usually does.

(If only you had some mind-reading quirk, you would’ve known he actually had been planning his next moves.)

“Good job, baby! You let mommy mark you so pretty with her hands, and look! Mommy’s name is on your thighs, so that next time you touch yourself you won’t forget who you belong to- I mean, who you’re a baby boy for.”

You’re basking in happiness, in pride, in complete bliss while he thanks you in small whimpers, hips twitching and hole clenching around your strap. Right, you forgot how long he has been cockwarming you; guess he deserves an even better award. He never manages to hold back for so long when sitting on your silicone cock.

Rubbing your palms around his thighs without moving your stare from his face, you command him to put his hands to use and lift the hem of the skirt, getting a good show of a new dribble of precum dropping heavily onto your pelvis. His dick is even shaking just as much as his body, pulsing even more than any other past encounter. It’s also competing against Kirishima’s red hair for the title of the “most red thing ever to exist”.

Monoma’s opening and closing his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in question and silent begging.

“You can speak now.”

“M-Mommy, you pro-hah-mised t-to make hn-me cu-um!”

“...Watch that tone, little boy.” You glowered before continuing. “Remind mommy what she promised you and explain why you deserve it.”

Now you’re being unfair again and Monoma doesn’t want to deal with how you’re suddenly trying to milk out his responses to the way you want. Crossing his arms and glaring down at you, he mutters, “Wh-why should I? Did y-you forget?”

Humming, you move your hands to his hips, rubbing your thumb on the cheap material covering them before beginning to lift him off, at least trying to. “Guess mommy should go back to her room since her baby boy decided to be a little bitch.”

“No!” That’s startling on both your ends hearing such a loud, anguished tone come out of him. Bottom lip trembling and quickly putting his hands to grip tightly at the skirt, Monoma holds back a sob.

“I’m so-sorry, mommy! ‘m not a-a, um, little b-bitch. I’m sorry.” Ending with a whisper, he slowly puts all of his body weight down on your lap, wanting to keep you there and make it impossible to lift him off, and hangs his head in defeat. (Really, it’s because of shame, but you’ll never hear that from him.)

Do you not realize how hard he’s shaking? He can feel his heartbeat in his ears and hear it from his brain. He’s all sweaty and flushed red, his pupils dilate every time you look deep into them. He’s seen the way your eyes light up when glancing at his weeping dick, and he loves how wet it looks, it feels, it sounds, whenever he shifts.

Most importantly, other than his neglected manhood slowly turning a shade of purple, his prostate has been teased for so long that he just wants to ride you hard enough to find bruises tomorrow and hypothetically ‘destroy your cock’.

“If you’re sorry, you’ll tell me what I want to hear. I’m not going to repeat what I asked for.”

Gulping to ease down the shame building up in his body, he lifts his head enough to catch your gaze before softly responding.

“Mommy, um, promised I-I get to cum… she’ll m-make me cum if I-I stopped movin’ s’ much.” Goddamn it, Monoma, get yourself together! “I d-deserve this be-because I stopped. Was a g-good ba-um, baby boy.” He loves hates it when you make him do this, even if not often.

Satisfied with the answer you’ll probably only ever hear once and as clear as possible, you nod your head.

“Then fuck yourself on my cock, Neito.”

No need to repeat yourself. Every little noise he tried so hard to hold back, every twitch and shudder he tried so hard to subdue, every twist of his face to show off the agonizing pleasure is quickly overcoming his insides and dick.

He’s whimpering so loudly, so shamelessly, as he bounces greedily on your lap. Loud and wet skin slapping against each other, and you at first thought, through every lost huff of air, that it’d be his ass connecting to your lube-covered thighs. Instead, your eyes shift towards his crying cock, the way spurts and spurts of precum are left on your lower abdomen, how this furiously blushing extremity keeps slapping itself onto you with every one of his desperate bounces. It’s even wetter than moments ago, you would’ve thought it’d be lube.

Monoma opens his eyes, which seemed to have closed at some point, and looks down at your face, huffing out airy whines of ‘what’, not knowing what you’re looking at. His dick has been wet with his precum for the past hour, so what could be new?

Until he looks down at himself and is mesmerized with how his dick, heavy with unreleased cum and flushed with blood, is tainting and slapping against your beautiful skin with his horny juice- wait, how stupid is he to refer to his precum as ‘horny juice?’

Stupid enough to forget to close his mouth and make his built up drool mix in with the mess below, his whimpers and whiny moans turning into high-pitched cries of your name and loud moans, a normal person would worry about their neighbors. The more he stares at himself, the louder he gets and the sloppier his hips gyrate.

Until he suddenly feels the tip of the toy punch against his prostate.

“Ahn! AGAIN! A-aga-again! Nngain!” Monoma screams, eyes crossing and welling up with old and new built-up tears, ready to drip down. He’s gripping and pulling the hem of his skirt in all directions, his hands never staying still even when a light rip could be heard upon a harsh pull. He recreates the same move, thighs quivering and tensing, begging to be closed. Each accurate hit to his sensitive spot forces out a louder cry and threatens his tears to let loose.

His movements get sloppier and lazier. Seems like he’s tiring out, which isn’t good. Sure, you’re hoping to make him cry with pretty tears and ugly sobs, but you were also hoping to make him do so repeatedly. Then again, if he’s tired out, there wouldn't be much fight or snark from him and maybe you can still make him cry freely.

Good thing you know how to execute fantastic sneak attacks against him.

Under the pillow where your head is situated, you reach for a not-so-small device that kind of looks like a walkie-talkie. Monoma sees this when trying to focus his sight, tensing up at the thought that maybe you were recording this for some benefit or blackmail. But why would you want to blackmail your own boyfriend? Had he done something not to your liking?

The answer came in the form of loud buzzing and sudden quaking starting from deep inside him.

“Wh-wh-wha-what is- hnngh, st-sto-op!” Monoma wails out, almost falling onto your body with how powerful the vibrations are churning hot inside of him. His vision is getting blurry, blocked by the tears that finally, finally are let go and kiss his cheeks with every hot trail left behind.

“You, oh, want me to stop?” He can kind of see your wicked grin, the mockery in your tone and amusement oozing out making him let even more tears fall. Why would you want to stop?

“St-sto-op?! No? N-no! No! P-pluh-plea- nnnghh!”

Ah, so he’s gone dumb. He doesn’t realize he said to stop. Well, now you can either continue watching him break on your lap and admire the waterfall of precum and fresh tears and make him continue working for his orgasm; or, you can tease him some more while turning up the intensity of the toy, now that it’s pleasuring you for once. The way it tickles your clit is enough to make your panting much more noticeable and thighs tense. You wonder how a setting at 4 could already drag out such reactions from the blond male. Enticed now, you decide to go with the second choice.

“P-pluh-plea…? Didn’t think y-you’d be stupid! Where did m-my smart-mouthed baby go? Ugh.”

“N-n’where m’mmy! ‘m h-here- Fuck! Fuck, pl-please! Please! Mo-more? Nngh!”

“You’re slurring, b-baby. But, you a-asked politely.” You hover your thumb over the ‘+’ button, hips grinding upward to drag out some more tears, more cries, more whimpers as you melt into the bed.

“Mommy’s g-gonna count to 10, al-alright? Ugh, then you’ll c-cum, mm. Understand?”

You’ve never seen so much eagerness come from Monoma before, well, not unless it’s because he knows he’ll win at something or get to prove his worth even more. But the way he nods reminds you of a bobblehead: empty in the head, cute to look at.

“G-good. Don’t forget t-to keep riding m-mommy’s big, th-thick cock.” You then lower your voice, sending shivers down his spine even with how hot he feels. “Understand?”

You don’t wait to see more of his eager nods. You press down on the button until it reaches the maximum intensity, which makes your hips jolt up so harshly, thrusting the silicon toy back up to him that it’s enough to make him squeal. Now that’s new.

As much as you’re enjoying how satisfying the stimulation is on your wet cunt, you can’t help but moan out loud Monoma’s name as the boy’s reduced to short-lived squeals and rapid hiccups, so rapid that you’re beginning to think he might be hyperventilating. Worried, you bring your thumb to reduce the intensity before feeling him grind so desperately on your lap. So without any more distractions or hesitations, you quickly begin the countdown.

“Ten.” Monoma repeats with a strained moan, his hands flailing about as he tries to grab purchase onto something, letting go of his ‘forgotten’ skirt.

“N-nine.” Monoma finally plants his trembling hands onto your shoulders, pinning you down enough to give enough strength to his arms. Hovering over you, you frown at his skirt-covered dick.

“Ei-eight.” Monoma tenses his thighs as much as possible to stop the shaking. Even if it didn’t do much, he begins riding you again with more vigor and desperation than previously. A high-pitched whine of your name quickly leaves him as his sensitive dick receives friction from the fabric covering it, the stain that had dried over time reviving as more precum marks it.

“Seven- shit.” Monoma’s trying to look down at you. He can’t really see much of anything, not with his tears never stopping or his mind not setting back into an intellectual phase. He can barely think to say anything else but lewd chants of your name and ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘faster’. It’s not until he moans out a timid “f-fu-ugh- fuck!” that you pay mind to the rapidly growing heat in your stomach.

“Six! Fuck, Neito!” Monoma’s continuous chants and growing volume suddenly sound babbled as he drools down on you, his saliva hitting your chin before you growl up at him. No words are exchanged as he swallows the liquid that had accumulated, although with difficulty. His thighs are beginning to burn and shake with exhaustion, quaking even worse than when he was cockwarming you. His riding turned into hard bouncing, finally stealing your breath away physically and providing some movement on the other end of the silicone toy to press harder onto your clit.

“Fi-five!” Monoma’s eyes cross for the second time, staying longer in that position as he chokes on his scream, all because you’re beginning to meet up with your own thrusts. Your feet planted on the bed as you let go of the control for the vibrator, gripping onto his hips tightly to match him with you. You’re beginning to moan so sweetly, gasping out his name loud enough for him to-

“Cl-clo-ose! F-ugh-fuck! Fuck! Clo-oooose!”

“Ho-hold it! Hold i-it, baby, a-almost the-there!” God, the heat is growing so deep in you that you know this will be violent.

“Four- shiiit.” Monoma’s sobbing now, ever since you told him to hold it. Mission accomplished, so far. He’s blinking rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears and allow him to actually see you. He needs to see your lewd faces, ignoring the fact he is probably rivaling yours. The intense need to cum is building up far too quickly for him to even catch up and he just wants to cum right here, right now. But if he does, you’ll punish him. So, he tries his best to hold it.

“Three! Three, Neito!” Monoma’s trying so hard to not cum, to not even think about it, but how can he if his prostate is being overstimulated and his cock keeps receiving such familiar friction, enough to make him sob even louder. He’s not going to make it.

“T-two! Lif-ft your sk-skirt!” Monoma can’t or else he’ll fall on you. But you’re grabbing onto him so hard that he hasn’t felt the need to support himself on your shoulders. Using whatever energy he has left, he throws himself up to his old sitting position, making his bouncing sloppier and unsynchronized with your thrusts. He quickly grabs onto the wet hem, biting his lip as he tries to swallow and control his sobs. Lifting it, he’s rewarded with the sight of his slick covered cock, so red and noticeably throbbing that his eyes slightly roll to the back of his head.

“One! Fuck, one!” Monoma’s mouth opens wide, his throat constricting as every choked moan and cry tries to escape while his ass begins to tighten alarmingly fast around the toy. He jumps when he feels something wrap around him, quickly looking down at himself again to see, then feel, you viciously stroke him. And that does it.

“Cum.”

Monoma gasps as he relaxes his thighs and lets go. One more hit to his prostate and he’s…

He’s quiet.

Your eyes are as wide as dinner plates as you watch him reach his orgasm: on you, in all his beautiful glory, is Monoma Neito. A guy whose back is arched at a certain angle you’re sure it’s uncomfortable. A guy whose nipples are completely being seen through the drenched crop top. A guy whose mouth is leaking trails of drool, but not as much as his eyes are leaking streams of unstoppable tears. A guy whose face is so red and sweaty, his bangs are striking to the skin and his eye color pops out more. A guy whose only warning of his cum leaving his body, as much as his soul had, is to roll his eyes so violently to the back of his head and convulse forward.

You forget about your orgasm as you try your best to support his body in the current position, not wanting him to fall on you or backward. Well, maybe you should’ve let him fall onto you.

His cum spurts seem to be gold medal Olympians in ‘how far can we reach’ and ‘how much can we be’. The first one barely misses your eyes, but the second one hits you on the forehead. With each spurt leaving his twitching cock, Monoma hiccups whiney and loud words of gratitude and mercy, hips jumping up, torso jolting forward. His knuckles are white upon the unforgivable grip he has on his absolutely ruined skirt, slowly but surely being dirtied with each load forced out of him with the still-buzzing toy inside him.

This whole scene is enough to remind you about turning down the intensity of the vibrations while grinding slowly, both to help milk him out his incredibly overwhelming high and to bring you back to the tip of paradise.

By the time he’s done, he nearly collapses on you but first lifts himself, somehow, off of the toy before leaning back onto your lifted thighs. He’s still twitching, the color of his face slowly coming back as his eyes dry up from the tears. The socks have moved a bit down on his legs and most of the pretty hello-kitty themed hair clips are barely fastened on his hair. You’re pretty sure some are littered around the bed.

Monoma’s eyeing his mess curiously and taking in a cum-covered you before he scoops up some of his cum, tastes himself and you both moan softly. You turn the toy off, still rolling your hips as much as possible to ride out your harsh, hot, and wet orgasm. You’re pretty sure you somehow squirted, but that doesn’t matter too much right now.

Because the moment Monoma came back to his senses and made eye contact with you, you find yourself living in a slow-motion picture: with a shaky hand, he uses the same fingers to write down his first name before scooping up as much of his excess cum and, without any warning, moves forward to thrust his fingers in your mouth, dragging the pads of his fingertips down onto your tongue as you swallow.

Pulling his fingers out slowly while giggling breathlessly, his signature smirk grows onto his blissed-out face.

“H-how do I ta-taste, m-mommy?”

#bnha smut #mha smut #monoma neito smut #monoma smut #sub bnha #monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #ლ; blasphemy #𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖆

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nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: I’ve decided to make this five parts instead of four. I was originally going to combine this part and the next one, but I feel like it flows better with a bit of separation between them!

Part One

____

Part Two

The rest of our first afternoon together was spent lazing around. Grayson was tired, but continued to refuse his nap so we kept things low key to avoid any exhausted toddler meltdowns. By the time the evening rolled around, I was tired from the stress of the day myself and since I still had to unpack, I went up to my bedroom shortly after we'd tucked Grayson into bed.

I slept a lot better than I thought I would given everything that was on my mind and when I woke up, I could already hear the sounds of breakfast echoing up from the kitchen. Taking a few minutes to let myself wake up properly, I checked my phone and scrolled through social media before getting up, stretching and heading downstairs.

"Good morning," I smiled, finding Chris and Grayson sitting at the island eating some scrambled eggs while Scott leaned against the counter with a cereal bowl in his hands.

"G'morning, Mama!"

Grayson's greeting was said through a mouthful of food and Chris reminded him that wasn't polite before greeting me himself.

"Help yourself to whatever you want," he insisted. "There's some eggs left in the pan or cereal, whatever you can find. Maybe Grayson will even share his apple slices with you if you ask nicely."

Grayson gasped at that suggestion and frantically shook his head.

"No, Daddy!" He protested. "I don't want to share!"

I laughed as he reached over his plate to move the little bowl of sliced fruit closer to his body where he could keep it guarded.

"Not even one slice?" I asked. "But I'm so hungry!"

"Over there!" Grayson giggled, pointing at the counter.

I turned around and saw a few more apples in a bowl, making me smile as I turned back to the boys.

"But they're not nicely sliced like yours," I pointed out. "How can I eat those?"

Grayson shrugged and plucked one of his apples out of his bowl. He looked smug, thinking he'd won, but he was so distracted while he took a bite that he didn't see Chris' hand sneak over until he'd snatched one of the slices and tossed it to me.

"Catch!"

I did as Chris instructed and Grayson's jaw dropped. An indignant huff fell from his lips as he looked between the two of us.

"That's not nice."

Chris laughed, but I bit back a smile and returned his apple.

"You're right, baby," I agreed, kissing the top of your head. "That was mean, but we were just tricking you. You don't have to share your apple."

"Thanks, Mama."

The frown on his face turned back into a grin and I scraped the rest of the eggs that were in the pan on the stove onto a plate before turning back to the boys once I’d pulled a fork from the drawer.

"So, how do you want to work it with things like groceries while I'm here?"

"Just tell me what you want and I'll order it," Chris told me. "They've started doing curbside pick up pretty much everywhere so I was thinking I'd just do that."

"Oh, that's handy, but I meant like money wise. Should I just transfer you my share or do you want to alternate who pays?"

Chris stared at me for a moment as if he was trying to figure out if I was joking before he chuckled.

"I'm not taking any money from you, Whitney."

His voice was firm, but I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"What? Why not? I can't let you pay for everything."

"You're not still working, are you?" Scott asked. "Or is it different since, as a photographer, you're so far away from whoever you're taking pictures of?"

"I'm not working," I admitted. "I think it would be doable if it was, like, family portraits or something like that, but the big photo shoots involve too many people. Everyone cancelled on me last week or delayed my contracts until at least the summer."

"So, don't worry about paying for anything then," Chris shrugged. "It's not like you're going to eat that much, I think I can handle the cost."

He was trying to do a nice thing. He was a very generous person with those that he cared about, but I wasn't going to take advantage of him.

"I have savings, Chris," I insisted. "I'm not completely helpless."

As if sensing a rising tension, Scott put his bowl in the sink and grabbed his coffee mug before turning to Grayson.

"Hey, Gray, let's go see what cartoons we can find."

Grayson nodded eagerly and Chris helped him down from the tall stool so he could follow Scott out of the room, taking his little bowl of apples with him.

"I wasn't trying to imply that you're helpless," Chris assured me once they were out of earshot. "But you're tiny, I don't think that buying you a few groceries for the next couple of months will financially cripple me."

I tried to temper my defensiveness before I answered him, reminding myself again that he was trying to be helpful.

"I know that, but I don't feel comfortable living here for that long without contributing," I told him. "You already give me more than you need to every month for Grayson."

It was true. Since our custody agreement was that Grayson spent fifty percent of his time with each of us, he wasn't required to pay me any child support. But he did anyway. It was something we’d argued about on and off over the years because the amount that he gave me was way over the top. I appreciated his generosity and I did use all the money to buy things for Gray, but most of it ended up in a bank account that I'd opened for him because there was no way to spend it all in one month without Grayson becoming the most spoiled child in all of Massachusetts.

"I like to make sure he's taken care of."

"Which I am capable of doing with my own money when he's in my care," I reminded him. "But I don't want to start that whole conversation again. I just want to feel like I'm doing my part while I stay with you."

"And I appreciate that gesture, but it won't be necessary," Chris insisted. "You can clean, you can cook, do anything like that to help out, but I won't accept any money, especially while you're not working."

I sighed as he stood up to put his plate in the dishwasher while I put mine on the counter, too distracted by our conversation to eat. I knew it would be a struggle to get him to agree to take money from me, but I wasn't ready to back down so I thought of a compromise and hoped he would accept.

"How about we drop it for now," I suggested. "But if this thing goes on for more than a couple of weeks, can we talk about it again?"

Chris paused and crossed his arms. I could tell that he wanted to argue, but I was relieved when he agreed.

"Alright," he nodded, hesitating for a moment before adding a stipulation to the deal. "But we're going to talk about your car too before you leave here."

"My car? What about my car?"

"Grayson told me that it's not working properly," Chris admitted. "He said it sounds angry sometimes and that you haven't gotten it checked out yet."

I rolled my eyes, guessing that was one of those 'secrets' that he mentioned.

"It's fine," I assured him. "It made a weird sound one time last week when I tried to start it, but it's still working. I was going to take it in, but then all this virus stuff happened and I didn't have chance."

"You need a new one," Chris informed me. "That one is getting old anyway. I'll take you car shopping when things reopen."

I laughed at the absurdity of that statement, but I could see the annoyance on his face at my reaction.

"You're not buying me a car, Chris. The one I have is perfectly fine and if it's not then I will take myself car shopping, thank you very much."

"Why do you get so defensive when I try to help you?" He asked, his eyes shifting into a glare. "I'm not going to accidentally think that you're in love with me just because you accept a nice gesture from me. I can take a hint, Whitney, I get it."

My jaw dropped and I couldn't hold back a disgruntled scoff at his insane change of topic.

"What are you even talking about? This has nothing to do with that," I argued. "I wouldn’t have accepted your invitation if I knew you were going to hold that over me and throw it in my face all the time."

“All the time? This is the first time I’ve mentioned it!”

“Yes, but I’ve not even been here for twenty-fours hours and you’ve already brought it up!”

Perhaps it was my harsh, snappy tone that did it or my very valid criticism of his low blow, but Chris' body language softened.

"I just don't get why you get so worked up when I'm trying to help you..."

"Because I don't need help, Chris," I explained. "I might not be Captain America rich, but I do just fine and I can take care of myself. I can buy my own groceries and if I really needed to, I could buy myself a new car. You throwing money at me for things like that makes me feel like you don't value the success I've had in my career or my ability to manage my finances which is, quite frankly, offensive."

Chris dropped his arms so they were no longer crossed and his shoulders relaxed. Clearly, he'd been getting quite defensive as well and had realized it, whether he would admit it or not. I held my head high, proud of myself for explaining my feelings so well and taking him down a notch, but that feeling disappeared as soon as Chris spoke.

"If you were the richest woman in the world, I would still want to buy you a car," Chris started, looking more nervous than the dismissive, self-assured attitude I was getting moments ago. "I'd still want to buy you anything you could ever need because making you happy makes me happy."

My face fell at his confession and my heart clenched again, knowing what the underlying sentiment behind his statement was. It stung more than any hurtful words could have as the sincerity, the genuine care and appreciation, in his voice was heartbreaking. I regretted not adding a condition to our cohabitation that specified he wasn't allowed to say such nice, guilt inducing things as I stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation that was more polite than just bolting out the door.

Too much time was passing as his words hung between us so, short of any good comeback to his words, I shrugged.

"If you want to make me happy, let me contribute for the groceries."

It was Chris' turn to look shocked now, as he was obviously expecting a more thoughtful response to his rather vulnerable admission, but he pulled himself together quickly and a dry laugh fell from his lips.

"Nice try, Whitney," he smiled, shaking his head. "But that's not going to happen."

Without giving me any more time to argue, he turned on his heels and walked out the door leaving me alone to wallow in my guilt and wonder how much longer I'd be able to keep up my act of nonchalance.

There was a weird sense of restlessness in the house that day. Usually, killing a few days at home would be no big deal but, as soon as the stay at home orders came into place that morning, the knowledge that we were now unable to do anything else made it feel slightly more suffocating.

Chris wasn't lying though when he said that he planned to make this lockdown as enjoyable as possible so we managed to keep ourselves entertained as we planned out some of the things we could do. Chris and Scott were compiling a list of old movies they wanted to watch again, I ordered a bunch of puzzles and books (some more child appropriate and some for the adults), Chris dug out an old wiffle ball set he had from when they were kids and Scott organized Chris' video game collection, pulling out all the good ones like their favourite: Mario Kart.

By the end of the day, we were all feeling much more optimistic about how our time at home would go. Especially Grayson. It was finally starting to sink in for him that he got to spend the foreseeable future surrounded by all his favourite people - something that was unfortunately a rarity for him given our situation. He was bouncing off the walls as he threw his ideas into the mix and couldn't wait to get started on all the fun.

The excitement of the day led to another early night for him and I excused myself shortly after, declining the invitation to start practicing my Mario Kart skills.

After our conversation that morning, I was trying to keep a bit of distance from Chris. I wasn't mad and it didn't seem like he had any lasting feelings of annoyance either, but our earlier discussion proved to me that there was still tension and resentment between us. I wanted to let it settle and give him some space so our small disagreement didn't turn into a full-blown argument. Living together after everything we'd been through would be an adjustment period and easing into it would probably be the safest route.

So, I took myself off to my bedroom and lounged in bed watching some new mystery show on Netflix. I started it thinking it would just be a good way to pass a few hours until a reasonable time to go to bed but as usual with Netflix, I got sucked in and before I knew it, it was almost midnight.

I closed my laptop, knowing I needed to get some sleep as Grayson was an early riser, but I noticed the glass of water I'd taken upstairs with me hours ago was empty and my mouth was dry. With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed, taking the glass to the kitchen to fill it up.

I crept down the stairs, assuming everyone would be in bed already, but I was surprised when I got to the kitchen to see the light on. I poked my head into the room and saw Scott sitting at the little island in the middle of the room, a drink in his hand and a melancholy look on his face.

"Hey," I greeted him, alerting him to my presence. "You're up late..."

"I was just FaceTiming with my boyfriend. He's in LA so it worked with the time difference."

"Boyfriend?" I questioned as I headed over to the sink to fill up my glass. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"It's pretty new," he sighed. "We've only been together about a month now."

"That's so exciting! You didn't want to stay in LA and quarantine with him?"

"No, we thought it was too fresh for us to, like, fully move in together and if I was in LA and not living with him then we wouldn't see each other anyway, so I decided I may as well come here."

"That's really hard," I frowned as I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. "I'm sorry that you had to make a decision like that."

"It's alright," he shrugged despite the sad look on his face. "A lot of people have had to make much tougher decisions than that lately."

"That doesn't mean you can't be upset anyway."

"I know, but I'll be alright. I'm just glad we've got so many ways to stay in touch." He flashed me a smile and I was glad to see it. Scott was a good guy and one of those people who was usually so positive and upbeat that it was hard to see him feeling down. "What about you? How are you doing with everything?"

"Oh, I don't know," I sighed. "Do you mean the deadly virus plaguing the world? Or the fact that I'm in lockdown with the father of my child who I have a fairly complicated history with?"

"Both," Scott chuckled as he sipped his drink of what looked to be whiskey. "But I was more referring to being here in lockdown with Chris."

"It's hard, but I'm doing okay. It's just a weird situation."

"It'll definitely take some time to get used to for both of you," he nodded. "He felt really bad this morning. He told me what you said about how offensive it is when he throws money at you all the time and I totally agree, but I hope you know his heart was in the right place. He tells everyone how talented you are, he would never want to belittle your career."

"I know," I winced. "I overreacted a little bit."

"No, not at all!" Scott assured me. "He needed to hear it. I've been on the receiving end of it too so I know how you felt, but he doesn't realize how it comes off some times. He's just trying to be generous and help the people he loves."

I nodded and I knew that I should just end the conversation there. Tell him that I understood what Chris' intent was and leave it at that. But my heart overpowered my brain and I found myself opening up before I could stop myself.

"I just don't exactly deserve to be on that list," I reminded him. "And I shouldn't take advantage of any feelings he might have for me after the decision that I made."

"You really do deserve to be on that list," he told me with a smile. "He's really in love with you."

"Love might be a bit extreme," I scoffed. "He's made his feelings clear, I know he cares about me, but it's not love."

"He's not made his feelings clear enough then," Scott countered. "Because he's been head over heels in love with you since pretty much the moment he met you."

My mouth went dry as my brain fought to comprehend that claim while all my instincts were telling me that it wasn't true. Scott wouldn't lie to me, he wasn't that kind of person, but he could be exaggerating especially since he had been drinking. There was an honesty in his eyes though, a look that told me he was telling the truth, but I couldn't accept it, it just didn't make sense.

"That's not true," I argued. "He only ever saw me as a friend until that one night and that night was a mistake."

But Scott was confident in what he'd shared and he shook his head.

"He never saw you as just a friend. You were his endgame from day one."

Perhaps it was a delaying tactic, perhaps it was a nervous response or I was subconsciously trying to buy myself some time to make sense of what he was trying to tell me, but a giggle slipped out at Scott's choice of words.

"Endgame? Is that an Avengers joke?"

"It wasn't intentional," he assured me with a laugh, but he was quick to get us back on topic. "But I mean it. We had a conversation just a few weeks after you met and he was talking about you like you hung the moon. He's been enamoured from the start."

I couldn't wrap my head around it. He was speaking with such confidence, but the words he was saying might as well have been another language. Knowing what I knew about our situation, how things had unfolded between us, how that first night together went down and the aftermath of it, there was no sign that Chris had been in love with me. He cared about me, that much I knew, but to be in love? That didn't add up.

Especially when I'd had those feelings all along as well. Surely, I would have noticed had they been reciprocated.

I'd fallen silent as my brain buzzed, scrambling for any gesture or obvious evidence that I'd missed that might prove Scott's claim, but when he spoke again, I was pulled from my thoughts.

"Do you not feel the same way about him?" He asked. "And there's no judgment here, I can see both sides. I love Chris and I want him to be happy, but I respect what you're trying to do."

I felt my heart rate spike again as my palms grew sweaty in a way that was becoming annoyingly familiar.

I was aware of the importance of this conversation, but I was also aware that I wasn't having it with the right person. If Scott was being honest then Chris must have had his reasons for not sharing the depth of his feelings with me and it felt sneaky and deceitful that I was finding out from someone else. It also felt wrong that the answer to Scott's question was on the tip of my tongue. Chris deserved to know before his brother, but I was tired. Fighting through this mess all by myself was wearing me down and Scott had always been one of those people that compelled you to pour your heart out to him. He was a better listener than most and I needed someone, anyone, to give me some kind of guidance. So the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"I do feel the same," I admitted, my eyes firmly locked on the glass of water on the table in front of me as I worried I'd be too anxious to speak if I looked Scott in the eye. "I love him very much."

"Then why are you so scared to give him a chance?" He questioned. "Just because of Grayson?"

I nodded, but even I was starting to doubt my own motivations.

"We work together so well right now, but if we give it a shot and someone ends up getting hurt then we might not be able to put our feelings aside and keep things peaceful."

"But aren't you hurting each other every day that you spend in love with each other, but not together?" He pointed out. "Yet, you manage to put Grayson first through all that pain."

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head.

It was an excellent point.

We were both hurting from being apart, it was clear from how defensive we got over silly little things like we had that morning. I could only imagine how Chris felt, but it was hard for me to be around him all the time and just keep things friendly when in my heart I wanted more. I ached at the sight of him every time I dropped Grayson off or picked him up, but we still managed to be friendly and polite through that.

"How many of those drinks have you had?” I teased earning a laugh from Scott. “They’ve made you too wise.”

"Not enough," he joked. "But it's true, isn't it?"

"It is true, but it's different," I insisted. "If we were together and broke up, that kind of hurt can come with a lot of anger. Right now, we might be sad or disappointed about the situation, but there's no anger."

"Oh, there was anger," Scott informed me, grimacing slightly. "After Christmas, when he came back from dropping Grayson off at your house there was definitely anger. He slammed doors, stormed around the house, got drunk off his ass and ranted about it for hours. I've never seen him that upset over being turned down before."

My heart sank at that news. I knew that he'd been upset, but I didn't think he'd taken it that badly. I thought he was just a bit sulky, but now my guilt intensified.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. "I feel bad enough as it is..."

"Oh, honey, I'm not trying to make you feel bad," Scott assured me, reaching over to rub my back as I forced back the tears that had sprung to my eyes. "But it proves that even if one of you ends up heartbroken, you can still put Grayson first because you just did it."

"I didn't, Chris did," I pointed out after clearing my throat. "If it wasn't up to me, if Chris came to his senses and ditched me for some beautiful actress, then I'm not sure that I could be so forgiving."

"Why would he ditch you?"

As promised, there was no judgment in Scott's voice, just genuine curiosity and I shrugged as I answered.

"Because he could have any woman in America."

"Maybe not any woman, let's not get carried away," Scott smirked, his teasing tone making me smile. "But for such a relationship loving guy, don't you think it's interesting that he hasn't been in a serious relationship in about five years?"

That wasn't something I'd put much thought into, but it wasn't the 'gotcha' moment that it seemed like Scott had hoped it was.

"Not really. He's been busy with work the last few years," I pointed out. "And having a baby with me must have complicated his personal life a bit."

"You complicated his personal life the moment he met you," Scott insisted. "That's my point."

He sounded so sure of himself, but the words he was saying were still hard for me to comprehend. I'd always been so confident in my understanding of our relationship and if I was to believe him, it would shatter everything I thought I knew.

"I just don't see why he wouldn't have mentioned this by now..."

"You know how he gets with his anxiety. He's not always the over confident hotshot that people assume he is," Scott reminded me. "But you'll have to talk to him if you want more information than that."

I let out a sigh as I knew he was right.

"There's a lot that we need to talk about," I admitted. "Thank you for this though, Scott, you've given me a lot to think about."

"Anytime," he smiled. "And I completely respect that you're willing to put Grayson first despite whatever feelings you have. You're a wonderful mom and I would be proud to call you my sister-in-law."

I laughed at his outrageous leap from even considering a relationship straight to marriage and shook my head.

"You need to go to bed, Scott," I instructed. "You've clearly had too much to drink tonight."

"I probably have," he agreed. "But I meant everything that I've said. Think about it, okay?"

I nodded as I slid off the stool I was sitting on, wrapping my arms around him in a quick hug.

"I'm here for you too, you know that right?" I asked as I stepped back. "If you ever want to talk about your situation or vent and complain about the distance, whatever you need, I'm here."

"Thanks, Whitney," he smiled before dragging himself off his stool as well. "Goodnight."

I returned his smile and mumbled a 'goodnight' of my own before heading back to bed with all the new information that Scott had provided echoing around in my head. While it had been a very informative conversation, I wasn't quite sure whether I came away from it with the clarity I was looking for or just more confusion.

Part Three

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfic #more hearts than mine

189 notes · View notes

night-eagle-flight · 3 years

Text

Just Go For It! (Modern AU)

Connor Kenway x reader

So this one-shot is a modern AU but I hope you enjoy!

“That’ll be all for today. Everyone is dismissed.” Shay said as he ended the meeting. As everyone left you began to put away the notes you had taken for Shay.

“That invitation to dinner is still open if you want to join me lass.” Shay said as he looked over some of the notes you had taken.

You smiled, “I’m grateful for the invitation but I have some things to do today after work.”

Shay made a side smirk, “Next time then.”

You stood up and began to head to your shared office. When you opened the door you were greeted by a tall man with greying hair who was accompanied by a younger man with dark hair.

“Um... Can I help you?” You asked wondering how they got into the locked office.

“Good Evening,” the grey haired man stood up, “My name is Haytham Kenway and this, “he gestured, “is my son. Connor.” You shook both their hands as Haytham looked towards you, “We are here to speak with Shay Cormac regarding a couple upcoming projects.”

“Here I am sir.” Shay said as he walked in, “Sorry for the tardiness, but I was-”

“Busy flirting with your assistant, yes?” Haytham said with a smirk.

Shay blushed slightly, “N-no sir.”

You couldn’t help but blush as well but Haytham simply smiled at you and looked back at Shay, “Let’s get down to business.”

You sat down wondering how Haytham knew and that’s when you caught Connor’s eye for a second before he looked away. You smiled and began to sit down to take notes.

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“Excellent.” Haytham said as he stood, “It seems everything is in order. Connor? Have you anything to add?”

You looked at him curiously. During the whole meeting whenever Shay would look at you Connor would glare at him and whenever Shay’s eye lingered he would clear his throat to regain Shay’s attention.

“No.” He looked over to you and smiled, “I look forward to working with all of you for this month.”

“Month?” Shay asked slightly surprised.

“Did I forget to mention that Connor is starting up his own business and wanted to see how we worked ours?” Haytham stated.

“Might have slipped your mind sir.” Shay said with a small deadpanned expression. He gave Connor a side glance and asked, “I thought you’d be taking over the family business?”

Connor shrugged and offered no answer.

“Connor wishes to show me that he has better ideas that will help the community far more than what I do. I am simply playing along to humor him.” Haytham gave Connor a smug grin which made Connor’s eyes roll.

“Um.... Is it ok if I go? I don’t want to miss the last bus.” You said as the banter continued.

“I can take y-” Shay was interrupted.

“Nonsense. You and I still have a few things to go over privately.” Haytham interrupted, “Connor, perhaps you can drive the young lady home?”

“I don’t want to impose!” You said slightly startled.

“It is alright if you allow me.” Connor said looking away slightly as he put on his coat.

You could see Shay shooting a small glare at Connor but you acted like you didn’t see it seeing that Haytham looked far too amused and was enjoying the show.

“If it’s ok with you.” You said as you followed him. You looked back, “I’ll see you tomorrow Shay and it was a pleasure to meet you Haytham!”

“Goodbye (Y/n).” Shay said with a sigh.

“Goodbye dear.” Haytham said as he put his hand on Shay’s shoulder.

When you and Connor were gone Haytham chuckled, “In love with your secretary?”

Shay dropped his head, “We went to school together sir.”

“Ah. The classical college crush then?” Haytham smirked.

“You can say that.” Shay chuckled a bit, “But then you come along and added competition.” He sighed, “Looks like your son has taken an interest.”

“To be fair, Connor was the one who asked me to intervene. He was going to knock on your door and he saw how you looked at her when you asked her out for dinner. Something about you not being able to take a hint.” Haytham put on his coat as Shay’s face pinched, “Besides. I doubt he’ll be able to woo her anyway so I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“What makes you say that sir?” Shay followed Haytham out of the office.

“Simple.” Haytham smiled, “My son can’t flirt.”

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Connor was certainly a gentleman. He opened the car door for you before getting inside and he asked if you were too hot or cold to adjust the car AC. But after that... it was utter silence. So you tried to make conversation,

“Thank you again for driving me home.” You said.

“You’re welcome.” He said warmly.

................ utter silence once more.

“Your dad said you were shadowing him to start your own business, correct?” You asked.

“Yes.” You noticed Connor’s hand tighten a bit on the wheel, “I know that my idea will be beneficial to everyone but my father insists that it’s a waste of time and that I should stay with the family business.”

“I see.” You thought for a second, “Well, I don’t know if this means anything but... I’ll cheer on and support your dream.” You smiled at him, “If you need help with notes or just need someone to speak with I’d be more than happy to listen.”

Connor felt his heart thump but a smile finally appeared on his face, “Thank you.”

The silence became comfortable and soon you were home. Connor waited until you were inside to drive off and he couldn’t help but wave when you unlocked your door to go inside.

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“You both drove in utter silence didn’t you?” Haytham said as soon as Connor stepped inside the presidential suite.

Connor glared at his dad who was reading the newspaper, “It was not utter silence.”

“I see. So you said maybe 30 words or less?”

“I.....” He thought back, “Be quiet father... It was 34.”

Haytham barked out a laugh, finally putting down the newspaper to laugh harder at his son’s expense.

Connor rolled his eyes.

He was ready for bed.

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It had been a week since Connor and Haytham came by and you found out that Haytham’s sass had bite and Connor was probably one of the nicest people you ever met. They were like night and day.

“Daydreaming lass?” Shay asked from across the lunch table you sat in. You blinked at he continued, “You’ve seemed a bit distracted lately.” He placed a bag in front of you, “I noticed you weren’t eating and figured you forgot your lunch again.”

“Oh um...” You smiled, “Thank you Shay.”

Both of you ate together as you chatted and as both of you finished Connor approached your table.

“(Y/N), when you’re done with your lunch can you meet me in my office?” He asked.

“Oh Su-”

“She’s busy.” Shay interrupted, “I need her to take notes for a conference call we’re having.”

Connor gave him a side glance, “It was cancelled an hour ago.”

You saw Shay toss him a glare but you kicked his foot lightly under the table and gave him a pleading smile when he looked at you.

“Fine.” Shay said with a sigh, “But when you’re done (Y/N) we do need to prepare for our conference tomorrow.”

You nodded as you stood up, “Lead the way Connor.”

Once both of you were at his office he started to speak, “Are you still interested in taking a few notes for my business?”

“Yeah!” You immediately took out your notepad, “Ready when you are.”

Connor began to talk about his plans and would often asked about your input. What you thought, what you suggested, and so on. Soon 2 hours flew by. Yes you had been taking notes but both of you would get slightly side tracked when one topic would jump to something personal or a slight side joke.

“I see you 2 must be done if you’re laughing.” Shay said as Haytham stood behind him.

“Oh!” You stood up, “I’m sorry Shay. I didn’t realize the time.” You gave the notepad to Connor and walked off in a hurry to Shay’s office. Shay stared him down for a second before he soon followed you.

“Well then Connor.” Haytham said as he entered, “I hope you didn’t get her into trouble for nothing.” He sat down on the chair in front of Connor’s desk and leaned in on his arms, “Let me hear about your 1st week in my company and your first draft of your proposal.”

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“You and Connor seem to be getting close.” Shay said bluntly.

You paused and looked at him, “He only asked me to take notes for him and help him with his draft.”

“So laughing was part of his draft I assume?”

You rolled your eyes a bit, “Shay. You and I talk and laugh when we work together. I can’t do that with a new coworker?”

He looked away, “You can. Just...” He sighed, “Nevermind. Let’s just keep organizing.”

You continued working and whispered, “We’re still friends... right?”

“We are lass.” He looked over and smiled, “We are.”

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“This is painful to watch.” Shay told Haytham as he watched Connor try and fail multiple times in putting his hand over yours on the lunch break table.

“She’s no better.” Haytham said, “Whenever (Y/N) tries to compliment my son her voice becomes too quiet and she stutters whenever Connor asks her to repeat herself.”

“Today is the last day you’re here isn’t that right sir?” Asked Shay.

“Yes.” Haytham sipped his tea, “If he doesn’t make a move he’ll miss his chance.”

“Let’s hope.” Shay muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing sir.” Shay said.

The day continued awkwardly and whenever you and Connor would look at each other you’d both blush and look away.

Soon it was time for them to leave and you walked to Shay’s office to give them you farewells.

“Ah. Ms. (Y/N).” Haytham said when he turned around. He walked over and stretched out his hand, “It was a pleasure to work with you and I look forward to seeing you grow in this company. Perhaps one day you’ll have Shay’s job.”

You giggled as Shay rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Goodbye (Y/N).” Connor said as he went for a hug but stopped midway when he saw you stretch out your hand for a handshake. Both of you laughed nervously and the you went for a hug when he went for a handshake.

This was awkward...

You hurried and shook his hand, “It was great to meet you Connor. I know your company will flourish with you at the helm.”

“Thank you.” Was all he could say as his mind was racing, ‘Say something else!’ He thought, ‘Here’s my number! I enjoyed working with you! Something!’

“I will... see you again one day.” Connor said.

“Yeah.” You said with a smile, “Take care.”

You took a few steps back and then turned to walk away leaving the men alone. Connor’s eyes lingered while Haytham and Shay shook their heads.

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You were sad to see Connor go but you knew his stay would be temporary. When you had gotten home, you showered, changed into regular clothing, and headed out for the night to get your mind off him.

“Maybe a movie will get my mind of him.” You whispered.

There had been a movie rerun that you had really wanted to see in theaters and tonight would be the last showing. You had been so busy at work that you thought you were going to miss it. You bought your ticket, got your snacks, and sat down on your seat.

What you hadn’t noticed was the 2 men that had been sitting 3 rows behind you.

“She’s here.” Connor whispered.

“Well it’s not like you’re going to do something about it.” Haytham popped a popcorn in his mouth, “As soon as you like a girl you start to shy away and become painfully awkward.”

“No. I’m not going to miss this chance.” Connor said to his father.

“Well if you don’t hurry you will.” Haytham stated, “Shay has been pursuing her for quite a bit and by the looks of it, he’s planning to sit down next to her.” He looked at Connor, “If you don’t decide to go out with her now, Shay will.”

Connor saw Shay had walked in and was looking for a seat. So he stood up after grabbing the bucket of popcorn from his father, jumped down the 3 rows making popcorn rain, and sat next to you. You were clearly startled but you calmed down once you saw who it was.

“Connor?”

“Hi.” Connor said as he offered you the bucket, “Popcorn?”

“Um.. sure?” You said as you picked one from the now half full bucket, “You like kettle corn too!!!???”

“Yes. I... uh...” He saw Shay glare at him as he walked towards Haytham, “they’re my favorite.”

The movie started and you took a chance to lean your head on his shoulder. He smiled as he took a chance as well and intertwined his fingers with yours. As the movie progressed he looked at you and you turned when you felt him staring.

“What is it?” You asked

He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. You reciprocated making the kiss that much sweeter.

“Perhaps... we can be more than friends?” He said slightly shyly.

“I’d like that” You smiled and both of you leaned closer to each other to enjoy the movie.

“Finally.” Haytham said, “Took him long enough to just go for it.”

“Aye sir.” Shay sighed, “Guess we weren’t meant to be.”

Shay smiled when he saw how happy you looked.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“If your son breaks her heart I’m breaking his neck.” Shay said pretty bluntly.

Haytham snorted, “Protective as always.”

They were quiet for a second.

“Shay grab me a bucket of popcorn will you.” Haytham pretty much ordered, “Connor stole mine.”

“Right away sir.”

THE END

#connor kenway x reader #connor x reader #modern au #reader insert #connorkenwayxreader

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