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#which she knows I can’t do because of personal reasons
luveline · 2 days
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KBDDDDD AHHHHHHHHH
—Steve takes the lead when your baby makes a mess. mom!reader, 1.5k
Your hands are soft. Steve holds both of them in one of his, not quite big enough for a comfortable fit, but it’s alright. Your pinky finger rests against his knee. Doesn’t fit in his hand, but it doesn’t matter.
Steve loves you because you’re you. And so many things make you who you are, he couldn’t boil them down into just one thing. Maybe it’s your brightness he loves most, how you lean down next to him and smile into his tricep for no reason. Maybe it’s that you’ve never been cruel to him, not once. You have this capacity for love that you don’t see in yourself, but he does. You don’t expect anything from him that he can’t give.
He lets his head drop down to rest on yours.
If he’s clingy, you’re worse. You settle closer into his side with a content sigh nearly too quiet to hear. Then comes a scratching sound. His thumb, which had been employed in a soft back and forth into one of your palms, comes to a stop.
You sigh again. Less content. “Why’d you stop?” you mumble.
“Can you hear that?”
“No… What is it?”
He shakes his head, turning his face back into your head. “Nothing. Must be the wind.”
You take back one of your hands to rest on your stomach. “She’s kicking.”
“Is she? Can I feel?”
You press Steve’s hand to your bump and wait for him to feel it. He waits for another kick, not so much a vibration as a distension, the force of a movement. It’s like she’s saying hello, only he can’t feel it. You pull his hand down to the bottom of your stomach and nudge your shirt up so he’s skin to skin.
“She’s shy now you’re watching,” you say.
He turns his head in the other direction and you laugh, which makes him laugh, the volume of you both nearly not quite occluding a second heavy scratching sound from upstairs.
You stop laughing. “What is that? Is that Avery?”
Steve sighs. It had been really, really nice to sit with you and just get to appreciate you for a moment, but duty always calls. And no offence to you, but he’d much rather know Avery was safe, because what the heck is that sound?
He stands and helps you up, though he doesn’t wait for you to follow. Steve bounds up the stairs two at a time and you giggle and follow, saying something he misses about his rushing, how he’s gonna fall flat on his face. He yanks down the handle on Avery’s room and pushes open the door.
Your toddler looks up with caught eyes. “Oh.”
“Babe, what!” Steve looks around at the mess she’s made and turns around to shut the door.
“Steve, what is it?” you ask, still on the stairs.
“Baby, if you see this you’re gonna panic. It’s just a mess, and it’s going to upset you so bad. Go sit down. I’ll clean it up.”
He decides honesty will be his best strategy. Remarkably, it works. You get to the top of the stairs and turn for your room, saying, “All right. I don’t wanna see.”
Avery’s in the adorable place between baby and toddler where she has lots of her babyhood still intact, but she’s her own broad person. She can talk, and walk, and do terrible awful things. If you saw the mess you’d never agree to another baby if you weren’t already having one, it’s horrific; where she found her crayons Steve doesn’t know, but there’s scribbles over everything. The walls, the bed, the windowsill.
She frowns at him with her eyes full of tears and drops a crayon on the floor, caught red-handed.
Steve nips out of her room to the bathroom for a spray bottle of cleaner and a rag. You lay on the bed in the main bedroom with your hand over your eyes.
It takes him a long time to clean off what he can. The walls become a rainbow blend and then a dark green sludge over baby pink, but he scrubs, and Avery tries to help near his knee. Despite what he’d said about it being a potentially upsetting scene should you have seen it, mess doesn’t stress Steve out anymore. You’d only panic because you’re pregnant, not because it’s a permanent problem. You’re easily upset lately.
“Good job, baby,” he says, kissing Avery behind the ear as she wipes the rag over the wall. “Can dad have a turn now? We need to clean this mess up before you fall asleep.”
“Not sleepy,” she says, dropping into his lap with a thump.
“No? So the sleepies in your eyes are for show, huh? Mr. Sandman gave you those for no reason.” He drops the rag, wiping his hand dry on his pants, and pressing it to her back. She’s more him than you and she’s beautiful nonetheless, sulky eyes and eyebrows like his, her little mouth. She rounder in the face, and she’s got a more feminine shape to her chin, but when she wobbles on his thigh with the effort it takes to fight sleep she looks exactly like him. Her eyes flicker closed.
“Avery,” he says, nudging her close to his chest, “we’re gonna have a big talk about crayons in the morning.”
“Nigh-nigh.”
Steve breathes out a short breath. “Yeah, nigh-nigh. I love you, messy girl.”
“Love you.”
Snores. Immediate snores. Steve lets her settle for a minute and then stands, holding her to his chest as he throws her sheets further back in bed and puts her down. He tucks her in, kisses her forehead, and cleans the rest of her room in silence. It takes ages, but nobody’s upset when he’s done.
You peek from under your arm.
“I’m sorry.”
He sits by your hip. “Ooh, for what?”
“That sounded awful.”
“Yeah, it was, you should be ashamed of yourself.” He looks for something to squeeze, deciding on your shoulder. “No, it was fine. She helped, and she’s back in bed.”
“I should go give her a goodnight kiss.”
Steve brings his hand to your face. Draws a curve down your cheek. When he cups your jaw, you stay still and wait for him to talk. He has the strangest feeling, like you’d wait all night. “You can give her a goodnight kiss, just there’s still some crayon on the wall. But we’ll paint over it, okay? I promise. Nothing’s ruined.”
“Was it everywhere?”
“On the walls and her bed. A lot more came off than I expected. And can you be mad? She’s an artist. That’s artistic expression.”
“Not mad. Just worried we won’t fix it and then we’ll have the baby and it’ll never get fixed.”
“I promise,” he whispers, leaning in. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”
You don’t have to say okay or thank you. Your hand searches for his as he stays there over you, your eyes met.
“I believe you,” you say finally.
“I know, I’m just looking at you. You have a sleepy like Avery did.”
You laugh and turn out of his hand. The reason goes unsaid, Steve, you’re so romantic.
“How’s that baby?” he asks, before you can roll away.
“She’s kicking, yeah. Everytime she hears your voice.”
He stops. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious. You’re talking and she’s hitting me right in the spleen.”
“You don’t even know where your spleen is,” Steve says, putting his hands together. He is not afraid or ashamed to beg. “Can I feel it, please?”
“You don’t have to ask.”
He doesn’t always, of course he doesn’t. There’s love and trust in spontaneity, but there’s also trust in knowing you’ve had a long day, and you don’t enjoy being poked at like a poor animal at the petting zoo. Steve pulls your shirt up where it’d already been rising and feels along your skin gently, slowly, not needing you to tell him where she is. He presses the meat of his thumb to your tummy and waits. The bump is sturdy but surprisingly soft, too. When Beth kicks, for a split second, he feels it like she’s right there in the room.
He immediately drops his head to kiss your skin. “Hello,” he says, rubbing your stomach appreciatively.
You put your index finger by his. “Hi, baby.”
“Let’s hope you’re the well behaved one.”
You draw a short line, back and forth. “I don’t care if she's not.”
“I have a funny feeling she will be.”
“It’s wishful thinking.”
Steve grins and sits up. “It’s definitely wishful thinking.” Beth gives another kick. He can see it. “That’s sort of queasy. Are you alright?”
“Doesn’t hurt.” You rub your bump. “She’s just saying hi.”
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i really don’t want this to seem ignorant- so sorry if it does. But FOX did make Lonestar, which has a queer canon couple, a trans guy and other incisive characters
i know Oliver said FOX didn’t allowed Buddie but also kind of wrote it in but also pretended they didn’t but also had a plan they never followed through on, but FOX aren’t evil are they? I mean I prefer 9-1-1 over Lonestar but I liked the show and all the different characters they had (even if they made some bizarre decisions)
i’m not saying FOX don’t suck- but why specifically does the fandom hate them so much. Is it cause queer baiting (over buddie)?
I can’t speak for myself, but personally a lot of my issues with FOX handling the buddie situation was less so with Fox, but more with Kristen Reidel for coming in and completely sweeping away the setup that Tim had made for buddie at the end of season 4.
Obviously we only know tidbits that have been said in interviews, and they’re never going to outright talk about what happened (at least not until buddie goes canon or the show ends) but from the few things we’ve heard, it sounds like the sniper plot was setup to be bothe Buck and Eddie’s “oh” moment, and Tim had planned to explore that in season 5 to work towards Buddie canon.
However when Tim switched over to LS from 9-1-1, and KR stepped in, she and FOX both nixed everything that Tim had initially planned, and took the show in a different direction— this is why a lot of fans dislike season 5 and 6 (not because of buddie not going canon, but because it almost felt like a different show at times— and we all know the debacle that was the rushed plot wrap-ups at the end of s6 that granted weren’t entirely KR’s fault, but could have been handled better than they were)
So tldr, i think a lot of fans are more annoyed at the combination of FOX and KR both deciding not to go down the bi!buck route in s5 and eventually leading to buddie canon. at least that’s where my frustration lies, but everyone has different reasons. I think other people are aggravated by the fact that LS did make Tarlos canon but so vehemently disagreed with Buddie/Bi!Buck…. (that is not to say I don’t love Tarlos i absolutely do, but it is a little annoying that they would give us one queer ship while denying another)
(and to answer your question about FOX being evil- this might be my socialist brain talking but they are a major media corporation which to me automatically makes them icky bc their main concern is making money which means they really don’t gaf about representation unless it makes them money— but this also goes for ABC and any other network but i digress)
I hope this clears things up/answers your question? I don’t think there’s a really clear-cut across the board answer, but this fits with a lot of what i’ve seen/discussed w other fans.
Thanks for the ask, anon 💕💕💕
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eerna · 1 day
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Omg the way Eloise is written as a feminist character BOTHERS me. I can’t always put my finger on why, but a thing that sticks out to me the most is how she just says the most blatantly basic (for us 21st century viewers) things and idk it’s supposed to seem revolutionary… but it’s never clever. And it is never deep.
Anyways I saw your tag on the Eloise/Cressida post and I was curious to hear any elaboration of your thoughts on her feminist portrayal? (But no pressure!)
YEEAAAH EXACTLY! I have the same issue, Eloise just says 21st century equality stuff without ever having read a single feminist pamphlet (this is canon, she doesn't start reading them or attending discussions until she's 18). Somehow she developed a perfectly uniform idea of modern womanhood when she was isolated and raised to be a traditional lady. Her opinions should be WAY more half baked and full of holes because this life is the only one she'd ever known. That's not even mentioning the inability to discuss feminism without discussing class, something Eloise has No Idea About.
Then comes the issue of writing. This is a stupid show. No one looks smart on this show. So when Eloise drops a "smart comment", it is cringe and dumb. She is supposed to be eloquent and witty, but most of the time she looks like a mean snob belittling everyone around her.
Another issue is that everyone else around her is a horrible sexist caricature. Yes, she is snobby, but my god every other woman only cares about men and marriage and gossip so I can't even blame her all that much for it. Her friends don't really care about what she has to say and will always leave her to go chase a man. And even SHE starts fitting the description the moment she falls for a guy - she lies to her friend and puts everyone in danger, and 90% of the reason is a man with only 10% being her self actualization. You can't write a proper feminist if everyone in your story has the same goal, which is to find a husband. It doesn't help that we know Eloise is headed for marriage and babies because every time a character expresses they don't want one or both of those things, they are proven wrong by the narrative.
And finally, my last thing making Eloise a bad feminist character, is that she is SO PASSIVE. Sure, it might be the point of the show as Pen calls her out for it, but we still don't know if they are gonna fix it so I am putting it here anyway. She only talks and complains about her lot in life, but never acts against society. I was happy when she started sneaking out and hang out with The Working Class Feminists TM, but that turned out to be a short failed romance subplot instead of a character moment and she gave up on it almost right away, so it doesn't count. And now in s3 she decided to embrace society and its expectations, so I am not sure we will ever get to see that kind of rebellion again - I sure hope so! But idk.
As a "well written Eloise" character, I'd like to suggest Felicity Montague. She is a character from a 18th century romcom, a noble lady, aroace and trying to go to med school when her gender prevents her from getting an education. She doesn't use her screentime for long-winded monologues about the unfairness of the world, she ACTS on her thoughts and opinions so we know what they are. She switches covers of romance books and textbooks so she can study without being bothered, she runs away from home to try make her dreams come true, she finds alternative solutions. Her thoughts are never lauded as One Truth, in fact she is often called out for the blind spots in her opinions since she too grew up a sheltered noble and can't account for all experiences. She is surrounded by women who challenge her ideas and make her into a better friend and person. AND she is funny and reading her is just plain fun. You CAN do a feminist who doesn't belong in her era, you just have to be careful to also make her a good character.
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bnhaobservation · 3 days
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Ramblings about the Shigaraki family
So, the past time I was rambling about the Shimura family, the Takami family and the Himura family.
Well, I guess this is the time to remble about the Shigaraki family (as the family of All for One and Yoichi, not the family of Shigaraki Tomura).
PREMISE
In creating the history of the Shigaraki family Horikoshi went as unrealistic as he could get and more. Their backstory is basically a HUGE request for suspension of disbelief on how children, and more specifically newborn, work.
For start the children shouldn’t have survived and, to continue, assuming their survived Yoichi wouldn’t have probably grown that way, never mentioning the framing seems to blame All for One for things that are actually not his fault for no good reason (I mean, there’s PLENTY OF THINGS we can blame All for One for, why trying to do so for things that aren’t his fault?).
So I’ll split this analysis in two, first I���ll put the ‘in reality this wouldn’t have worked’ part, so as to get it out of the way, then I’ll go back to the siblings and re-analyze them pretending all the highly unreal things in their history are, by some miracle or extremely unlikely and unexplained reason, possible.
Mind you, this first part isn’t meant to be a complain, merely a list of what clashes with reality. Mangakas can ask their readers to suspend their disbelief and accept unreal things to happen in their story… the problem is this makes harder for readers to them analyze the characters’ behavior because they can do or are expected to do, what a normal person can’t do and this makes the message the author wants to deliver harder to pass.
Lastly... what follow is just my humble opinion. I'm not Horikoshi, I don't own the truth so feel free to think differently.
And okay, let’s start.
REALITY CLASH
Now… we’re told the Shigaraki twins lose their mother short after being born. All for One manages to steal her Quirk before she dies, which okay, he might have done unconsciously… even though the other times he did so, he seemed to do it with purpose (as he needs to turn on and off his Quirk when he does so) and needing time remaining holding his victim for a while which doesn’t seem the case here but whatever. Quirk magic.
Now… the babies are then left lying on the ground next to their mother.
The problems really start when the flood of the river sweep them away. We’re asked to believe All for One managed to use his Quirk to cling to his mother, remaining on top of her and therefore out of water while at the same time holding his brother’s arm and keeping him as well on top and out of water.
We start with the first problem.
To use his mother’s Quirk to stab her, he should manage to hold his head still as he pierces her… but a baby takes about three months after birth, to develop enough neck strength to hold their heads up. They won't fully control it until around six months. More likely, if he were to activate his mother’s Quirk, he won’t stab her, he would end up pushing himself AWAY from her, never mentioning figure out he has to use it on his mouth and on his right hand to manage to hold on her. Newborn don’t use their mouth to hold themselves at something by biting it (they don’t even have teeth!) but to suck and are still trying to figure out they can grasp things and how.
All for One to figure out he can use his mouth and hand to hold himself and that he can strength his grip by using his mother’s Quirk which he has just stolen and shouldn’t know how it work feels highly unlikely if not outright unrealistic.
Now… a corpse can float as long as it doesn’t fill itself with water. Since it’s raining and the river’s waters aren’t quiet and she has on top of her two babies (newborns weight from 2,5 kg to 4 kg) not only I wouldn’t expect the corpse to take long to fill itself with water but also to be a very unstable raft.
Even if a baby’s grip is pretty strong and Yoichi should weight much less than him, adults on an unstable raft have problems to hold each other… never mentioning this requires All for One to see Yoichi (newborns’ vision isn’t as good as when they’re adults), acknowledge that Yoichi is something he wants to keep, grab Yoichi and keep on holding him despite the unsteady surface he’s on.
But whatever, let’s assume he could do all this.
Babies need to eat about every 2 to 4 hours. How are the twins getting milk? In theory someone should have picked them up and, since society is still in place, brought them to an orphanage where they were cared for. The story though seems to want to imply from that moment on they survived on their own which is… well above a baby’s abilities as newborn don’t even know how to crawl.
Horikoshi then tells us All for One was imbued with hubris and disrespect for others from the moment of his birth and views everything within his reach as his own possession… as if this were a thing that All for One was born evil. Problem is… this is how all the infants see the world and it’s only around preschool age (but sometimes it drags on longer) THEY ARE TAUGHT the world doesn’t revolve around them, as well as to empathize with others. They’re all like that and meant to be taught to grow out of it, it’s not something that’s characteristic of All for One only or of evil people only.
In the scene in which All for One beat people and Yoichi tries to stop him Yoichi is missing his milk teeth meaning he just started being of school age (you lose milk teeth at 5/6) and the two seem to live on their own, meaning they aren’t in an orphanage.
Long story short, when All for One was a newborn being as selfish and egocentric as he could was absolutely normal and since apparently no one taught him that it wasn’t the right behavior, it was unlikely he would stop… and here comes the second problem as… Yoichi instead somehow learnt it!
Yes, it could be because All for One is taking care of Yoichi so in a way Yoichi has someone to act as a caretaker but… All for One shouldn’t even have known how to take care of him, that Yoichi too, like himself needed to be feed! We’re told Yoichi is weak and sickly, this would mean he shouldn’t have survived if not properly taken care of meaning he needed food, staying in a warm, clean place, and possibly medicines and so on. There should be an adult in this story taking care of them in their earlier FORMATIVE years, but there’s no mention of this, to the point that it’s ALL FOR ONE WHO NAMES YOICHI and is aware he’s his sibling and the same goes for Yoichi… who doesn’t give up on his older brother because he has faint memories of All for One’s hand holding his arm when they were newborns and wants to believe his brother’s grip had been gentle and kind. Note that people don’t have memories that date to their birth… and if All for One’s grip had been gentle and kind, Yoichi would have slipped from his grasp and drown. That wasn’t the moment to be gentle but to hold tight but neither baby should remember the whole thing so not only a gentle grip would be unrealistic but shouldn’t be remembered.
Apparently Yoichi has no other nice memory of All for One… even though it’s supposedly All for One who takes care of him because we see him as a kid finding hard to stand so it should be All for One who provides him with food and clothes.
Also, although it’s just an explanation the fact that All for One stole the nutrients provided by his mother while they were in the wombs seems to speak ill of him but Twin-to-Twin Transfusion Syndrome is a pregnancy condition that involves imbalanced blood flow between identical twins. The imbalance deprives one twin of the nutrients it needs while providing an excess of nutrients to the other twin and can be fatal TO BOTH. It’s not a sign one of the babies is greedy, it’s a sign the pregnancy is having problems.
All for One has plenty of faults but he’s not born evil due to a pregnancy condition or having the exact same mentality all the newborns have. The framing instead seems to want to paint him as such. Of course there’s the possibility Horikoshi wants his readers to realize this, that the framing is unsympathetic because it’s meant to be unreliable. I don’t know but, for me, it doesn’t really work well.
To make up for it the framing for Yoichi is extremely positive but… Yoichi is actually presented as a fundamentalist Hero, the kind that would make Stain happy with his Quirks can’t be used for personal gain (Heroes use their Quirk to save people but gets paid to do so, hence they get a personal gain. If Quirk use has to be completely selfless we go back to Stain’s ideals of how being a Hero can’t be a job), but he fails at being a positive figure in All for One’s life as he can’t influence him positively in the slightest.
Last but not least, Yoichi claims he’s teaching himself how to read. While it’s possible to teach yourself how to read, generally you need someone to help you connect the written shapes of letters (or, in his case, kana/kanji) to the sounds. If the kids are alone without a supervising adult reading for them, and therefore indirectly giving them help to connect the kana/kanji to the sounds they make and give them reading directions, they shouldn’t even be capable to know in which sense the reading should go… actually it should have taken Yoichi time even to figure out if the manga should have been read in the western or in the Japanese manner because no one was there to help him figure out this or in which order to watch the images and this isn’t always easily intuitive.
Anyway, with this we end the part where I discuss the points in which the past of the Shigaraki twins distances itself from reality to the point it goes from highly unlikely to completely unreal without additions/adjustments Horikoshi didn’t seem to plan to include.
Due to this part I don't know if my analysis can be reliable because I tend to make them according to how the mind, the psychology and the development of people work in reality in addition to what it's told in the story. If the story distances too much from reality... well, I can easily be lead off track in my interpretation so consider yourself warned.
IF WE TAKE THE STORY AT FACE VALUE AND ACCEPT THE UNREALISTIC
The first relevant thing about the Shigaraki twins is that they’re alone in the world from the start, having only each other as company.
Even when they were in the womb and technically were with their mother, she was unaware of their existence and lived an unstable lifestyle which, in a way endangered them, never mentioning she died once she gave birth to them and left them alone in the open, under the rain and in a hostile environment as rats wanted to eat them and the river flooded short after, which yes, saved them from the rats but could have killed them as well.
If in the story this was meant to be a formative experience for the twins (in real life it hardly would be but we’ve discussed this part already so let’s pretend it would), All for One at the start of his life was presented immediately with lack of care and help and a world that’s a danger to him. In order to survive he has to take care of himself, he has to steal his mother’s Quirk and use his mother’s body to survive. As he does so he chooses to also save the other misfortunate creature that was with him from when he had a spark of life, his twin brother.
It’s not like Yoichi is presented as nurturing or caring or helpful toward him (quite the contrary, Yoichi throw things at him when he thinks All for One is doing something wrong and shares with him the fact he’s reading comics only when All for One catches him doing so)… it’s just Yoichi is there, with him, and doesn’t mean to harm to him in a world that either ignores or tries to harm him… and somehow All for One recognizes him as ‘family’. Yoichi is like a Teddy Bear to All for One, in a way he’s his security blanket. Yoichi was his sole companion, the only one in the same situation as he was and, apparently, All for One felt Yoichi should feel and see the world like he does. He wants Yoichi to see the world like he does.
All for One’s mentality of seeing everything else as his own possession, hating those who wouldn’t care for him when in need and wouldn’t provide him with anything is the one of an infant and he’ll never graduate from it… except in regard to Yoichi. Although he still labels Yoichi as a possession, the latter is of no use and provides him no care and yet he can’t let him go nor feel disgusted by him. All for One will label his feelings for Yoichi as ‘love’. It’s clear it’s not healthy love, the one in which you care for the other and asks for nothing back, it’s selfish love, the one in which you think you own the other and the other has no agency in this.
What about Yoichi instead?
While All for One is the one who has to fight for their survival… Yoichi doesn’t. He gets saved by All for One. Where All for One doesn’t have anyone to help him, Yoichi has someone. If we’ve to accept no adult took care of them… Yoichi’s survival was entirely dependent on his older brother (and, later, Yoichi will also get saved by Kudō). All for One is clearly a terrible caretaker as selfish as he is, but he still is Yoichi’s caretaker. Yoichi has better clothes than All for One has (his clothes fit him when All for One has some cloth tied around himself), we see Yoichi as a child can’t seem to be able to move (he seems to be crawling on the ground) so he can’t provide himself for food, which means All for One goes out of his way to search food for him too.
I’ll stretch things a bit and assume that, since Yoichi is weak and is being provided for, this helped him to feel empathy with other people who are weak and therefore, when said people get abused by his brother he feels bad for them and so he didn’t want All for One to hurt them (it usually doesn’t work like that in real life but it happens all the time in manga so let’s assume that’s what Horikoshi is going for).
Yoichi though, is unsuitable as a morality pet (I’m not looking down at him, ‘morality pet’ is the name of a role trope/archetype in tales) who will lead to All for One becoming a good person.
In fact All for One will claim he wants to become a evil overlord because he wants a world that exists for his sake and his alone. Basically no one cared about him when he was in need so he now wants to force the world to do so. His wish is an answer to the pain he felt when he cried and screamed and no one came to help.
He wants to be loved and nurtured the way he wasn’t as a kid (being loved and nurtured is a kid’s PRIMARY NEED and if the kid doesn’t get it, there’s a GIANT size chance the kid will receive serious psychological damage that will carry over to adulthood) but, since he didn’t receive such things, he didn’t even know how to ask for them or what actually he’s looking for. He’s still an infant in a way, instead than trying to become a person that can be loved and nurtured by others, he just wants to impose himself over them the way a newborn wants, making everything ‘all for his sake’.
So All for One wants to identify with the person whom, he thinks, has what he’s missing, the evil guy of the comics whom everyone serves, even if out of fear (talk about comics having a negative formative impact on him). This is his power fantasy, only All for One has power enough he can turn his fantasy into reality.
Yoichi has a different dream, he wasn’t completely neglected, he was (poorly) taken care of but he’s powerless so his power fantasy is becoming the Hero who’s fighting hard against a enemy and will eventually gain power enough to defeat him. The comic is formative for him too, as it gives him the idea good should always prevail on evil as the Hero will eventually win… THROUGH FIGHTING THE BIG BAD.
It’s meaningful that when Yoichi sees his brother hurting others he throws a can to him, attempting to hurt him in retaliation (and only ending up on being hurt back)… where Midoriya, in the first chapter, stood in front of the boy Bakugō was hurting and it’s Bakugō who attacks him. Midoriya focused on protecting, Yoichi focused on attacking.
Now I’m… not sure if this is done on purpose or it’s a flaw on Horikoshi’s part but in the story we don’t have Yoichi giving All for One a single meaningful speech or do a single meaningful thing that could have a chance to move his brother enough to make him change his path. I mean… we get All Might preaching about how Yoichi has a strong sense of justice… but the way all this is shown is merely by having Yoichi refusing to join his brother and giving him moral speech like how meta powers shouldn’t be used for personal gain ( “異能”は私利私欲に使うべきじゃない ‘“Inō” wa shiri shiyoku ni tsukaubeki janai’) and how bad it is that All for One is doing this to fulfill his own personal desires… which is not really convincing to me because:
- in the BNHA superpowers are used for personal gain as Heroes get paid and it was Stain the one who complained against it but the story set up Stain as an extremist, not as someone who’s right…
- the problem isn’t really that All for One is trying to fulfill his own desires (there’s nothing wrong in fulfilling your desires!) but that his own desires are harmful to others…
…and can’t be convincing to All for One because it basically doesn’t answer to All for One’s needs, but just tell him what he can’t do. Yoichi doesn’t tell him ‘I care for you, I want to take care of you, if you were to help people and let them know you they would care for you and help you too so you don’t need to do this’ but ‘don’t do this because it’s morally bad’ even though people around them is using their superpowers for personal gain and acting to fulfill their own desires at their expense. It’s not a solid argument for an ordinary person, for someone who has the maturity level of a newborn like All for One is… well, totally ineffective.
We’ve the same problem when All for One calls there two people and turn them into his allies by HELPING THEM, giving them what they NEED to stop being in misery.
Yoichi’s “Don’t do it…! There’s no coming back” (ダメだ…!戻れなくなるぞ ‘Dame da…! Modorenaku naru zo’) is the opposite of persuasive as those people don’t want to come back, they don’t want to go back as they were, they were miserable as they were, like Lady Nagant they hope that the world All for One will bring will be better than the current one because the current one is terrible to them.
There’s no understanding of what moves others nor the presenting of other better options available.
Yoichi is not persuasive at all, with such words he can’t hope to change anyone’s mind… though I don’t know if it’s a flaw in Yoichi or a flaw in writing (as in Horikoshi believes Yoichi’s ‘noble’ words would move others but they don’t work on All for One because the guy is a bad guy and they don’t work on those people because they’re weak and so they fall prey of All for One).
Anyway, due to Yoichi’s inability to drive his point across (possibly because he is unable to see the needs of All for One and empathize with them so doesn’t know how to respond to them in a way that would move his brother), Yoichi is unable to positively influence his brother. He remains, unyieldingly, in his ‘noble’ position, but doesn’t get a single progress with his brother.
All for One also doesn’t make progresses. He’s vocal about how he loves Yoichi, but doesn’t actually know how to love people because, again, he’s as mature as a toddler. He jails Yoichi, forces a Quirk on him thinking this will help him see things his way, but, even though he actually gives a much better speech than Yoichi, he doesn’t understand him and why he’s refusing.
In a way the twins are similar, they both have a power fantasy and aren’t willing to compromise on it or to genuinely try to put themselves in each other shoes to REALLY meet each other middle way.
In theory it makes sense they can’t, due to their upbringing they weren’t taught to do so, to reach each other midway (which is something very different from what All for One is doing in chap 193), to compromise and find a way to be they both can accept.
Ultimately Yoichi escapes, supposedly planning to fight his brother and All for One ends up murdering him… and then regretting it immediately after because again, his outburst that cause Yoichi’s death is the one of a little child who doesn’t see the consequences of his actions.
All for One saves Yoichi’s hand, he chases what remains of Yoichi in form of his Quirk for YEARS, he hates Kudō who took Yoichi from him to the point he didn’t just murder Kudō but all the women and children who were close to him so as to make sure to end his bloodline, he feels empty inside without Yoichi.
It’s ironic because, even though I think Horikoshi’s idea is to have both brothers love each other, it’s actually only All for One the one who shows his love. Sure, it’s a VERY TWISTED, VERY SELFISH form of  love, in fact, if All for One’s interest for Tenko can be compared to the one of a predator who took a young child and manipulated him into doing his bidding, his love for Yoichi can be compared to the one of a selfish, jealous boyfriend who would kill his girlfriend should she look at someone else.
With this I’m not saying All for One’s love is incestuous, because it’s not represented as sexual (or even romantic) in nature. All for One’s warped love for Yoichi is likely meant to be the reflection of a childhood need, it’s twisted and selfish because it’s comparable to the one of an infant for his mother, not of an adult man for a potential partner.
Now… very likely since All for One is so psychologically damaged Yoichi’s love wouldn’t have managed to compensate and make All for One a normal person but the bad part in the story is that Yoichi is never shown giving him love.
I’m not saying he should have done it when All for One was trying for world domination but, in the flashbacks about their childhood, along with the scene in which he threw a can at him, there could have been a scene in which he… I don’t know, covered him while he was sleeping or cuddled close or bandaged his wounds or something. Instead it seems if All for One hadn’t caught him, Yoichi would have kept from him even the fact he was reading comics.
It’s, I fear, a problem in writing, possibly Horikishi assumed it wasn’t needed to show it because Yoichi is a good person so of course he would love his older brother, it’s just All for One who’s not catching it up and being content with what Yoichi is giving him, and maybe for Japanese readers it’s obvious but… as a western reader I can’t see it.
Yoichi’s love instead is hardly depicted. Yoichi is this paragon of virtue that wouldn’t yield to him but… he’s not shown giving him (brotherly) love, we’re only told he wouldn’t give up to him due to his wish to picture All for One held him gently when they were newborn. I’m confident he loved his brother because that’s what’s socially expected of him, so Horikoshi likely gave him this trait despite how Yoichi can’t forgive what All for One did but… it’s not really something the story digs into, in a way Nana shows more care for Tenko than Yoichi for his brother. Again, possibly is a narrative problem, All for One is meant to be the ultimate evil so Yoichi has given up on him, we’ve to be satisfied with him dying, if his brother were to weep for him we might feel bad… but still this doesn’t paint Yoichi as a brother who, at a certain point had loved All for One, we just have a box saying something along the line but no visual proof.
Yoichi will go and develop attachment for his saviors, Kudō and Bruce, and for Midoriya, who represents the perfect Hero Yoichi believed in (and, likely, for the past One for All users), where All for One can’t really attach to people, not even to Tomura whom he raises to be similar to him (he leads Tomura to kills his family by accident and rage, in the same way he has done with Yoichi, and All for One gives him their hands same as he was holding Yoichi’s hand, and raises him into his beliefs telling him it’s okay to kill people) and who loves and respect him. To All for One, Tomura is just his next body. For him his ‘friends’ are all ‘expendable’, which includes Machia and, likely, Garaki. None of them can replace Yoichi. None of them can provide him with the love and care he needs to satisfy his soul. There’s probably no way to provide him that, his idea if he were to have Yoichi back he would feel fulfilled is likely doomed to fail, he can’t fill the black hole there’s inside his soul, if he were to have Yoichi back he would delude himself he’s happy but he would still crave for more. It would never be enough because it would never be healthy.
Yoichi instead… doesn’t need him, he’s satisfied with dying as a Hero. Yoichi is focused on his goal and while his goal is a good one for humanity… it remains a power fantasy for Yoichi to feel fulfilled all the same… which, I fear, is a flaw in writing. Probably Yoichi needed to be developed more, instead than remaining a stereotypical representation of noble ideals, he needed someone to dig more in his humanity, in his flaws, so that he would feel more human and less Mary Sue… but, I guess, there was no space in the story for this. Yoichi, as well as the other All for One’s users, aren’t really that important in the story, Yoichi is more like a plot device, the one who creates One for All and the one who gives a motive to All for One to chase the One for All users, instead than a character.
It’s probably also due to this that his reunion with All for One at the end of the story feels weak.
All for One has learnt nothing, he’s still the same as he were at the start, but he’s also desperate to have Yoichi back, he begs Yoichi to shows himself to him… but Yoichi basically shrugs it off, he’s more interested in praising Midoriya for offering them a final salvation… and with them I’ve my doubts it includes himself and All for One but I think he includes himself and the One for All users (‘Kyūsai’ 救済 means “relief; aid; rescue; salvation; help”… but also “salvation from suffering based on Buddha's teachings” meaning they finally might stop being trapped in between life and death and move on) who get to punch and destroy All for One fulfilling their lifetime goal and then can finally stop being vestiges. Yoichi also claims he couldn’t guide his older brother but again we stumble in the old problem. His effort to guide him was hardly shown and there is little regret in his words. Where the Todoroki family tried to stop Touya but also was there to express their love for Touya, Yoichi just seems interested in stopping All for One, no love involved.
So in a way it’s ironic, differently from the other families I looked at, here there are no parents who damaged their kids or pushed their values on them… but just two siblings who failed to love and support each other in an healthy way. One focused on becoming a noble person, the other decayed into a terrible person and, while in a way everything can be traced down to blame society (they were left without a caretaker with the world being in chaos and anti Meta mobs hunting people) the story really doesn’t focus much on this.
In the end, Midoriya’s final words about All for One being just a lonely man (‘sabishi’ 寂し meaning “to feel lonely” “to miss someone”) seem to miss the target. Midoriya knows nothing about All for One and his real problem wasn’t just he was alone (as he’d been bad even when he had Yoichi) but that he was ‘unraised’. No one raised him, cared for him, taught him to be a better person from when he was an infant. This caused him to become unable to establish healthy bonds with others and, therefore, to develop a healthy way to live.
So yes… he’s lonely because he doesn’t have Yoichi or anyone else… but that wasn’t his problem. Society has abandoned him instead than teaching him to care and so, as a result, he never learnt to do it.
Of course, due to the framing, it can be that this wasn’t what Horikoshi aimed to represent, it could be that he just expected All for One to learn those things by himself like Yoichi did… even when it’s normally not how it works. But well, this is a story so he can go as unreal as he wants.
So well, I guess that’s all for the Shigaraki family, which, in hindsight, wasn’t really that developed and, if Horikoshi hadn’t written those flashback chapters, I guess I wouldn’t have tried writing about it.
I hope you’ll forgive me if this isn’t as deep as I usually write this sort of meta but, not only there was little material but part of the material was ‘too unreal’ to make a realistic psychological evaluation of the characters and their motives… or just too vague so I tried to do my best but I might as well have failed. Many apologies for it and thank you for having read this piece till now.
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You know, after thinking about things that have happened to me for the past-at least 5 years- my life is actually worse that a Kdrama female leads’.
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boltgunkiller-archive · 4 months
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i find it damn near impossible to get mad at santana’s behavior in 3x06 and 3x07 because i genuinely do think she had the right to be lashing out at everybody. sue me idk
#idgaf if she was mean to kurt and blaine when they were “trying to help” in IKAG#they were the first performance & santana was put under the spotlight by the guy who fully outed her to the ENTIRE STATE OF OHIO & now she#-was expected to be just happy and jolly about some bullshit lady music week to celebrate women as if that has anything to do with wtf just#-happened to her by finn’s hands & of course she was upset because she was only back in the new directions because finn basically#-blackmailed her into rejoining like hello!!! so of course she was snippy with them… and tbh i don’t even think she was being that mean.#i think she’d have reason to be even MEANER actually. that reaction of hers was completely reasonable. and honestly it must’ve hurt seeing#-two people who are meant to Get what it’s like.. participate in that? especially when the last thing she wants is her sexuality that she’s#-still very insecure with Being broadcasted. to the whole damn club. it’s already about to be shown to all of ohio with names addresses#-details about her whole personal life etc like she really didn’t need that spotlight right then she needed to have space and love and#-support… none of which she got.#also the glee writers tend to make a character do a bad thing and then have another character do an INFINITELY WORSE THING#and then they’re like “oh but. the first character was being so mean. this absolutely deplorable and wayyyy too far reaction is definitely#-justified now because that was just so mean of the first character ugh!” and basically spins what happened into showing the first characte#-as the most evil person alive??? as if that’s even remotely true.??? and yes this is about santana cause they do this w her#and quinn. a LOTTTT. like a LOT. rn i’m talking ab santana though so i won’t cover quinn sorry fabrayers… one day!#like yes santana was being mean sure whatever. but finn didn’t have an excuse IDGAF what the hell anybody says about the body shaming stuff#it was mean. yes that’s true. but i don’t think you understand how different those two things are#they’re both bad but the outing is infinitely more despicable and personal and filled with malice and it’s so much more endangering in a wa#-that can’t even be compared to the dangers of body shaming you know. like they’re completely different and the outing thing is just too#-personal and Wrong like. idk. just get that through ur head they’re both so different and finn went way too far and personal. he could’ve#-just mocked her looks if he really wanted to get back at her. mocked ANYTHING else. but he chose the worst thing you could do to somebody#who is scared and in the closet and hurting#also yes santana’s written to be rude a lot of the time but her degree of rudeness in those episodes was Overplayed and def not in characte#like it didn’t feel much like santana’s brand of meanness it was 100% the writers trying to justify finn more because they continued to#-paint finn as the good guy who chose the high road… when that couldn’t be further from the truth thanks. he didn’t choose the high road he#-completely blackmailed santana and used her to make him look good basically. so you can’t change my mind on that Def being a writer issue#and just them Hating Women. especially santana. thanks.#also this is all coming from somebody who loves finn. so. 🤣#i fuckingggg hate seeing people say santana was mean and had no right to be doing all of that in those eps.. BITCH YES SHE DID#like in other eps sure (<- nuanced topic/take) but this one? No. she was justified IDGAF. should’ve been meaner
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8rujaa · 7 months
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to anyone dealing with ptsd, has there been anything that has helped relieve some of the symptoms?
#im emotionally stuck due to the constant reliving of what happened#i get these weirdly intense flashbacks where i can remember the how the fabric of the couch looked like up close#and how they felt. and how everything looked. the way the colored lights hit the room a certain way#i think i did myself a disservice by thinking i was soooo in love that i didn’t want to forget any details lmao#now i can remember everything like a photograph and sometimes i find myself back in my old apartment and the fear floods my chest#and i can’t breathe and my stomach starts turning it’s terrible. i really felt like i was in hell#i stopped smoking ouid 3 weeks ago bc whenever these flashbacks would happen the high would make them HD and it would send me into a loop#but now i think weed was the thing keeping me above water… it’s been a rough 3 weeks. but before i start smoking again#i wanted to ask if anyone found something else that made it a little easier#it’s been months since our break up and i really want to move on. i’ve tried to meet other people but i’m terrified of men#and i find myself unable to connect with anyone…#i’ve been physically better which i am so grateful for because being unhealthy was my biggest reason i was so depressed#i’ve been doing therapy but i talk about the same thing with her every week. i’m tired of it#i think i’m still in disbelief that they did that to me. i never thought they’d be capable of hurting someone so badly.#i can’t get over the fact that he r***** me for months while i was disabled and pretended not to know what he was doing was bad#i realized he knew when he tried to make it look like i was crazy. that made me really sad. i think i was hoping he was clueless so#i could still believe he was a good person… or at least the man i fell in love with. i was willing to forgive him once he apologized…#when he tried to make it seem like i was going insane the blindfold came off and i saw him for who he really was#like no wonder i was so scared of u dude… no wonder i kept having panic attacks anytime we were together and i couldn’t sleep next to u#i’ve been afraid to admit that shit broke me as a person. i don’t think i’ll ever be the same. i can’t function.#plus knowing i stayed for her bc i was worried for her and didn’t want her to experience the same thing without someone there bc i realized#how good he was at gaslighting and lying. only to find out she was waiting for an excuse to get rid of me… she wanted me gone…#i went thru all that for nothing…#and i still don’t understand why each time i tried to leave for my own good- to get medical help and support they begged me to stay!!! why#brain vomit
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#warning: rant about parent ahead#I’m so so so so so empathetic to mental health struggles#like exceedingly so#but it’s just so exhausting being on the receiving end of someone’s self-loathing#and to be clear I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT ANYONE HERE#you are all my phone besties and I have so much empathy for your struggles and know that i love you all#and wish i could say the right thing to support you all always and you are always welcome to share whatever is going on#and to quote the bard herself i wish i could take the bombs in your head and disarm them#but when my mother gets into these moods she just seems to use it as a way to get a rise out of us#she’s pulling the ‘well maybe you don’t want to do x with me because it’s not fun because I’m a terrible person and you’re scared of me#and i ruin everything so maybe you would just rather i do everything alone’#and i don’t doubt she feels horrible and i know she has intrusive thoughts etc#but that is so manipulative!!!! she then puts the onus on us to reassure her that she is not!!!! But that is not what she wants!!!!#which we then do profusely and remind her that we do love her and we do do things together and whatever the fuck is the problem of the day#but of course she won’t hear it#so yes it makes us scared of her because we are always worried we’re going to say the wrong thing in a given moment!!!!#i just shut the fuck up at all times now#but my dad tries to use reason with her and of course it just ends in her lashing out and projecting all this shit on him#’oh you maybe you actually hate me maybe you want to leave me’ etc#THEY’VE BEEN MARRIED DECADES HE’S THE MOST LOYAL AND KINDEST PERSON IN THE WORLD HE NEVER ONCE HAS#i honestly don’t know how he lets this roll off his back because i am so fed up with it#It’s just so so so so hard because one minute she’s ‘herself’ and the other she’s this inferno#and we just have to ride whatever wave she’s on and it sucks all the air out of the room#it’s like the one and only time i tried to very gently bring up that something she said was hurtful *after she’d brought it up herself*#she went on a ‘oh I’m a terrible person/terrible parent’ rant and it then turned into me reassuring her that she isn’t#i was just trying to show her how the language/behaviour she uses was hurtful to me#so anyway that was lesson learned that even if she invites it i will never speak of it and luckily she hasn’t since and that was years ago#But it’s just… i know bad thoughts can’t be helped and again i feel so much pain on her behalf for what she struggles with#and i wish i could help but there’s absolutely nothing i can do#AND SHE’S GONE OFF ALL HER MEDS SO THE ONE SOURCE SHE DID HAVE ISN’T THERE ANYMORE EITHER
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insanechayne · 4 months
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~ ~ ~
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cattordi · 5 months
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a/n hi i have explanation as to why i was gone for so long please don’t sue me. i wrote this after watching saltburn and watching 2037633 felix edits. but i honestly forgot how to write so im getting back into it. don’t judge :P
summary it’s 2006 and you’re an american who recently decided to study overseas in england at oxford and there’s one person who just won’t leave you alone
pairings felix catton x american!reader
warnings smut, orgasm control, begging, foul language, creampie/breeding, overstimulation, slight choking, oral sex, not proofread, smoking cigarettes(not reader), unprotected sex, fluff, angst, name calling, daddy kink, praise, 18+ MINORS DNI
chips or crisps?
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“can i just get a vodka martini?” you ask the bartender. he nods and quickly scurries off to make your drink.
england is not what you expect it to me. it’s nice. nicer than america in your opinion but the people were something.
one person you just couldn’t shake stood in all his glory across the pub. “he’s gorgeous right?” a redheaded girl says as she walks from his direction towards you.
“uh no not really” you lie. no one in their right mind could think that felix catton was unattractive. he’s 6’5, has a gorgeous smile, and a very very hot body. the only thing about him that bothered you was how he teased you. m
you didn’t know if it was because you liked him or what. “no one thinks felix is unattractive. felix doesn’t even think felix is unattractive.” the redhead continues saying.
“um do i know you?” you ask as the bartender slides your drink across the bar and you had him 4 pounds. “oou an american. i’m annabel” she says.
“hm.” you say and turn to look in felix’s direction again. hes now looking over at the bar where you and annabel are. first hes staring at annabel and then his eyes wander over to you; catching your gaze. you quickly look away not wanting to hold eye contact but for some reason your eyes wander right back to him.
he’s now smiling at you goofily because you got caught staring.
you roll your eyes and turn back facing the bar. annabel walks away after getting her drinks and now you’re officially by yourself again.
just the way you liked it.
you finish off your drink and quickly get a new one.
times passes and more people start filing into the pub; which calls for more drinks. “chips or crisps?” you hear next to you and you already know who it is.
“what do you want felix?” you groan and throw your head back.
the way your mouth is open and your neck is exposed makes felix feel a way inside. “is it chips or crisps?”
“felix i swear-“ you begin but he cuts you off. “you swear what love?” he begins and you finally look at him, “you’re you’re slap me? you’ve done that before.”
“what is your fascination with me?” you snap and he looks so amused.
“that,” he says a points at me, “what you just did is my fascination with you love.” furrowing your eyebrows he continues, “the way i get you all riled up without even touching you.” he says and his mouth is next to your ear at the point.
the smell of bourbon wraps around your head and into your nose. “you’re drunk.” you say and he chuckles.
“i’m not. lighten up y/n, you know i like teasing you.”
you can’t really tell if he’s lying so you just stop talking hoping he goes away after he gets his drinks.
newsflash: he doesn’t.
“y/n?” he says.
“what could you want now felix?”
“talk to me, love.”
“don’t call me that.. and no.”
“you just spoke to me.”
you don’t speak this time and he chuckles, “this little game we’re playing,” he begins and gestures between the two of you,” is lovely.” his accent warms you inside.
“i’m leaving.” you groan and push off your chair. you quickly gather your purse and coat before walking out; all while not even glancing at felix.
the cold england air hits you like a truck as you step outside. “it’s awfully cold.” felix says.
you jump at the unexpected sound of his voice. “felix what the hell are you doing?”
“don’t be foolish y/n. it’s 10 at night. i’m walking you back to your dorm.”
“i don’t need you to walk me back.” you say and he shrugs, “i didn’t ask you that did i?”
“whatever.” you begin walking and you can hear felix walking behind you.
after about 5 minutes of walking he finally speaks, “so y/n why don’t you like me?”
you ignore him but he won’t take that for an answer, “y/n answer the bloody question.”
you still don’t answer.
“for fucks sake,m y/n.” he says and he sounds upset. “whatever.” is all you hear before a hand wraps around your wrist pulling you between a small alley.
“felix let go.” you groan in annoyance that he won’t just leave you alone. but behind your little act, you want him to bother you; in more ways than others.
“stop acting like i don’t exist.” he begins as he gets close to your ear, “stop acting like i don’t have an effect on you.”
“you don’t.” you whisper and that pisses him off more.
“y/n,” he scoffs and you feel yourself beginning to get wet,”you act the way you do because you know, everything i do makes you feel good.”
if only he knew how true that statement was.
you shake your head, looking up at him. “listen, im not like every other girl who bows down to you. you can’t think i’m just gonna give out.”
“and why wouldn’t you love? i see the effect i have on you. i try to be so nice to you love.. and you push me away.” he begins as his hand slides into your mini skirt. “i bet you’re soaking for me.”
you refuse to make eye contact so you look down at his chest. “look at me love.” you shake your head now causing him to grab you by your jaw. “i said look at me.”
you whimper quietly at the feeling of his hand now touching the wet spot of your panties. felix’s eyes soften at your sound, “do i make you this wet love?”
after a few seconds, you finally give into all the feelings. so you nod your head but this doesn’t satisfy him, “words.”
“yes.”
“good girl. now,” he begins before pulling his hands out of your panties; causing you to whimper again at the lost of touch, “let’s go to my dorm. i’m not taking you in a bloody alley, darling.”
with that, he grabs your hand and begins walking quickly in the direction of the dorms. you can’t help but notice how big his hand is compared to yours.. and how long his legs are. one of his steps is 3 of yours.
after another 30 seconds of walking he stops. “you walk awfully slow love.”
“well sorry i’m not-“ you begin but yelp as your feet leave the ground and felix throws you over his shoulder. “felix put me down!” you groan.
“darling we are like 3 minutes away. just let me carry you.” he says and smacks your butt. the stinging feeling after keeps you quiet.
those three minutes pass so quickly you don’t even realize he’s walked the stair of his dorm and is now unlocking the door.
slowly, felix sets you down and points to the bed. “take your skirt off.”
you hum in response before pulling your skirt down. he’s watching you intently with his arms crossed. his button up shirt is unbuttoned halfway down; revealing his sculpted chest.
“now your,” he begins and points at your panties. as you slide them off the moon shines on your glistening folds and a low groan comes out of him.
as you discard of you panties, felix walks over and stands between your legs. “look at me.” you do as he says, “is this what you want?”
felix begins squatting down slowly. “do you want to be mine y/n?” he ask when he’s parellel with your pussy. his hot breath sends shivers up your spine. “hm y/n? answer me love.”
his hands wrap around your thighs. “yes felix.. that’s what i want.” you moan out as he begins kissing your inner thigh.
“well before we start.. call me daddy.” he lips your pussy in between words, “and you only cum when i say so. understood?”
you whimper lightly, “yes daddy.”
you’d never called a guy daddy before but it got you off more than you expected.
“well then,” with that felix’s mouth attacks your folds and clit causing your back to arch in pleasure.
your hands find his hair as he continues licking up and down your slit; ever so often he’ll hum and the feeling it gives almost pushes you over the edge.
“can i cum please daddy?” you ask and he hums something that sounds like a no. “please, please i want to cum.”
the begging and humming goes on for another minute or so until felix stops. “what happened?” you ask breathlessly.
“you tasted delicious darling, but i don’t want you to cum until i’m in you.”
he quickly pecks you on the lips before rolling you onto your stomach. you can’t see what he’s doing but his shadow cast on the wall as he stands.
you hear his belt being undone and soon his hand cupping your ass. “god, you’re perfect darling” he groans as his hand slides down; his accent is music to your ears.
“thank you..” you moan as he moves his dick between your wet folds. “thank you what?”
his hand wraps around your throat, “say it y/n.” the way your name rolls off his lips makes you feel so good. “thank you daddy.”
“good girl.” with that he slides in. you couldn’t see how big it was but you could definitely feel it. you moan in pleasurable pain as he stretches you.
doggystyle wasn’t always your first choice of positions because after a lot bit it was too much. every thrust would hit your cervix and begin hurting but with felix: it felt good.
“so- damned- tight.” he says and thrust harder in between words. you dig your face into the comforter moaning.
his hand snakes around your body to the front and begins rubbing your clit in small agonizingly pleasing circles. “felix-“
a sharp smack hits your ass, “that’s not my name y/n.”his hips continue to smack into you as he fucks you senselessly. “what’s my name?”
“fuck i need to cum.” you moan and he smacks your ass again, before grabbing you by the neck and pulling you up towards his chest continuing to fuck you. the new position caused him to hit your g spot in more ways than before. “what’s my name?” he ask through gritted teeth.
you’d never felt this kind of pleasure with anyone before. “can i please cum, daddy?”
“that’s what i like to hear.. but no.” his hand continues massage your swollen bud as he breathes heavily on your neck; fucking you maliciously. “god, do you feel god. all wet for me.. letting me fuck you to no avail like daddys slut.”
“please can i come daddy? please.. you feel so good.” you moan,
he pushes you back onto the bed, holding your by the neck; keeping you in place. “please daddy can i cum?” the feeling of release deepens so much and you can’t take it.
“i can’t take it.” you say through pleasured cries. the way he rubs your clit and hits your g spot repeatedly overstimulates you.
“yes you can and you will y/n.” he begins, “you’re mine now. all mine. no one could fuck you like i do. don’t you agree?”
you nod while whimpering out hushed “yes daddy”’s
“good. do you want to cum?”
“yes, yes please.”
“beg. and make sure it’s loud. i want everyone in this dorm to hear how much of a slut you are for my cock.”
“please daddy. please can i come? i want to make you feel good.” you plead and you have to admit: you can be louder.
“that’s not loud enough darling.” he says and stops rubbing your clit. the lost of friction causes you to whimper. “louder.”
“please daddy. i need to come. please, i can’t take it anymore.” you grab the sheets of his bed and grip them tight as an anchor as he fucks you.
“louder y/n, you’re almost there.” he groans. you can tell he’s getting close as well. his grip on your hips has tightened and you can feel his shaft pulsing slightly against your walls.
his fingers touch your clit again and you moan loudly, “oh my gosh, can i please cum daddy? you feel so good in me. i want to cum all on your dick.”
this time you’re so loud he’s even threatened to cover your mouth. “cum love. milk my cock like i know you’ve wanted too since we met”
at the sound of his permission, you release your orgasm. white flashes take over your vision as you release what felix has took his time to build up.
he continues to fuck you through your orgasm causing more pleasure. moaning loudly, you arch your back towards him. “holy hell, you’re so tight around me.”
he groans and pushes your hips into the bed. his thrust begin to slow and become sputtered movements. “you were made for me y/n.. so perfect.” he groans as releases hot white spurts that coat your walls.
the way he talks to you turns you on even more as you come down from your high. he continues to fuck you slowly as his cum drips out of you and onto your clit.
“fuck y/n..” he moans softly as he pulls out slowly. you continue laying down trying to catch your breath as he stands.
you hear things being more behind you but you’re too weak to turn your head and look. after a few seconds, you feel felix straddling you. “roll over.”
you do as he says to reveal he’s holding a cloth. “open your legs for me..”
slowly, you open your legs to reveal your swollen sex. “you did so good love.”
felix squats lowly and begins wiping you up. “thank you.”
smiling at you he continues,”but you know.. you never answered my question.”
“hm?”
“chips or crisps?”
3K notes · View notes
quin-ns · 6 months
Text
Eventually (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
Word count: 6.7k
Summary: Coriolanus could appreciate irony, but the one person he desires more than anything wanting nothing to do with him pushes him to new territory
Tags: (18+), cw: noncon, dark!coriolanus, deeply implied stalker!coriolanus, unreliable narrator coriolanus (boy is delusional tbh, no one is doing more mental gymnastics than him), pre-mentor era, obsession, unprotected sex, choking (only for like a second), virginity status undisclosed but as I was writing I began to imagine this being the first time for both of them—it’s not even implied tho, so do with that what you will
A/N: a character as evil as him I couldn’t conceive writing fluff for. he’s bad and guess what I’m not gonna fix him, but I also can’t make him not-hot so… hehe. please read the tags and proceed with caution <3
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You wanted nothing to do with him, and that made him crazy.
No, if anything, you were the crazy one. Coriolanus hadn’t done anything but try to be your friend, but you snubbed him without reason.
Coriolanus did a good job at keeping the financial situation of his family a secret. No one knew, and he doubted you were an exception. Yet, it was as if you looked down upon him.
Although, you’d grown fond of Sejanus, so even if you did know, status wasn’t a concern of yours. It was something he admired, yet questioned all at once. There had to be a reason for your dismissal. A reason you couldn’t bring yourself to even offer a smile back. It’s not like he was asking a lot.
It’s not like he wasn’t trying, either. He’d gotten used to trying to make people like him, to see him as better than he was, but it was never this hard. It would’ve been so much simpler if you just told him to his face what your problem was, but whenever he came around, mostly when you were talking to Sejanus—they were friends, it was the perfect excuse—you just went quiet. You’d greet him, make no effort to continue the conversation, then excuse yourself.
All Coriolanus wanted to know was why.
“You’re watching her again,” Clemensia whispered to him, eyes flicking between him and the paper in front of her.
They were class partners, but Coriolanus was beginning to think he spent too much time with her.
“Who?”
Clemensia let out a small chuckle, mocking him. The professor at the front of the class looked up, and Coriolanus quickly looked down at his paper, taking his eyes off of you.
“You’re too obvious,” she muttered, a smirk in her voice. “Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you. Because you stare at her too much.”
She didn’t get a response—it didn’t deserve one. Coriolanus questioned why he ever told her anything. She made him sound like some sort of stalker. Which, for the record, he was not.
His eyes managing to find you frequently wasn’t a crime, and neither was crossing your path. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence most of the time, but it’s not as if he was harming you by watching you. He doubted you noticed anyway.
Seeing you nearly everyday had been enough to keep him sated, but then Sejanus started talking about you. Through no fault of his own, Coriolanus learned things about you. What he came to know made him curious to discover more. Even if you did not seem keen to let him.
Being content with what he had didn’t keep its appeal for long. Not when you were right there, your presence taunting him. Making him want what you would not let him have.
“You just need to talk to her, Coryo,” Tigris told him one evening, when he revealed everything to her. “Not in class and not with Sejanus. Just you. Let her know the real you and I promise she’ll like what she sees.”
Coriolanus took his cousin’s advice to heart. She was much more empathetic than him, she had to be onto something, right?
Everything changed when Coriolanus sat across from you at a study table in the library.
As beautiful as you were from a distance, being up close was something else entirely. He could admire you for hours and never get tired.
You looked up at him, he smiled and said hello just like Tigris advised. The smile you returned seemed forced, and you ignored that he had spoken.
It upset him, but not as much as when you got up and walked out. It was the last straw. Coriolanus was following you into the hall before he could think better of it.
He caught up to you, dropping his hand to your shoulder to make you turn around and face him. When you did, you looked surprised. That wasn’t what made Coriolanus hesitate, but the realization that he had never been this close to you before. Not even sitting across from you compared to touching you.
His heart skipped a beat.
“What do you want?” you questioned, a level of annoyance he thought to be unearned in your voice.
His heart started again.
“Have I done something to you?” Coriolanus confronted you, feeling a familiar sense of agitation creep over him. He had to know. “To make you feel such distaste for me?”
“I don’t dislike you, Coriolanus,” you replied, calmly after recovering from your initial shock. “I’m just… indifferent to you.”
The answer confused him more than it did enrage him. He smothered the latter feeling as he observed you.
“You’re… indifferent,” he stated, not asking. His feet shifted beneath him. It hurt, for some reason. “Why?”
Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly, studying him. It was the same way you’d look at your books when you were struggling with a subject, lingering behind in class or the library until a triumphant smile crossed your face.
Only, that smile never came. Your expression just faded back to normal.
“You shouldn’t put so much weight on what other people think of you,” you advised, stepping closer to him. His breath caught in his chest. You smelled sweet, like flowers. “Especially not someone you don’t even know.”
It was then, he realized, you hadn’t moved closer to him with purpose. You’d been on your way moving past him. His eyes focused on your back as you walked away, figuring out what to say.
“I’d like to know you,” he announced earnestly, verbally trying to pull you back. “If you’d only give me a chance.”
You slowed to a stop, looking over your shoulder. Coriolanus felt as if he was on display as your eyes raked over him, determining for yourself his sincerity.
“You’re friends with Sejanus, aren’t you?” you wondered. It wasn’t what he expected, but Coriolanus nodded. You sighed, which irked him to think it was pity. “If you’d like to join us for lunch I wouldn’t be against that.”
“I’ll see you then,” he said, but you were already turning away. He kept to himself that he had already tried in the past.
His friend was nice. Too nice for his own good, truthfully. It wasn’t as if Sejanus completely abandoned him the moment he befriended you. It was more like he split his time, attending to both friendships. The only thing Coriolanus held against him was that he never tried to reintroduce the two of you. Maybe even put in a good word.
At lunch Coriolanus found you and Sejanus quickly, he knew where you liked to sit.
“Hey, Coryo,” Sejanus greeted, smiling. “About time you decided to join us.”
Coriolanus put on a smile as he sat down. “Well, I would’ve sooner, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome before.”
The comment made you smirk, in on the joke as Coriolanus looked at you.
“Who’s to say you are now?” you sarcastically replied, as if you hadn’t been the one to invite him.
Well, “invite” was being generous, but he still seized the opportunity nonetheless.
“Ignore her, she can’t help herself,” Sejanus said with a chuckle, used to your humor.
This time, when he tried to talk to you, you engaged. In between discussions of classes and assignments, Coriolanus had to dodge your quick wit.
He liked the challenge, and the next day, he went back for more. Even walked right past Clemanisa and Arachne, who tried to invite him to their table with Festus. You were waiting for him.
He noticed you and Sejanus already talking.
When he sat across from you, you raised your brows. “Seeking refuge?”
Before he could ask what you meant, you nodded your head towards the girls he’d left behind.
You knew about his friends?
“You could call it that,” he replied, a smile starting to appear.
You nodded and hummed.
“Well, what are your qualifications?”
“Excuse me?”
“You joke too much, Y/N,” Sejanus lightly scolded you, interrupting whatever path you were going down, which made you laugh. “He’s going to think you don’t like him.”
“He knows I don’t mean anything by it,” you assured, looking at Coriolanus. “I’m just trying to figure him out.”
Your tone was filled with confidence, but your face… Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to place your underlying expression. You had a shield up, he knew that much, but what did that have to do with him? Were you trying to figure out if you could let it down for him? Or something else?
“Of course,” Coriolanus answered, not taking his eyes off of you. “I’m an open book.”
“Are you, now?” You folded your arms on the table. “Your friends love to gossip, and I don’t think I’ve heard that about you.”
“It’s not my fault if they don’t know how to read,” Coriolanus quipped, proud of himself for being so quick.
None of his friends had wronged him, but the joke at their expense was worth it for what followed after.
He made you laugh. Not just smile, but truly laugh. It was exactly what he wanted, and it actually worked. Awe didn't begin to describe how it felt.
Joining your table for lunch became the best part of his day. Sometimes he forgot Sejanus was even there, far too eager to see you. He saw you all the time, of course. Watching you was a habit he had yet to break, but this was different. You were aware of his presence, and he was able to speak to you. It didn’t matter that you still seemed weary, it was enough.
Even if you didn’t like him, you still had conversations with him, so that was something.
Sometimes, if you were deep in a discussion, debating ethics—your favorite topic—it would continue beyond just the table. He’d walk you to class, wanting to hear your voice just a second longer.
“I want to meet this girl,” His grandmother declared one night, after Coriolanus drifted to the topic of you over dinner. He’d been doing it more recently.
Tigris gave him a look, a light frown. There was no way to do that without you coming to his home, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Let Coryo decide that, Grandma‘am,” Tigris insisted, patting the older woman’s shoulder.
“Well, he has feelings for Y/N,” she argued, looking at Coriolanus. He used your name enough that she remembered it. “And she likes him too—doesn’t she?”
Coriolanus gave a tight smile. “Yes, she does.”
Keeping up appearances.
“Well, that settles it, then,” Grandma‘am decided.
“I think it’s time you get to bed,” Tigris intervened, getting their grandmother up from her chair.
Later, when they were alone, Tigris asked him, “Does she even know how you feel about her?” She knew him too well. He took too long to answer. “You should tell her. From what you’ve told us, you two should be together. But it won’t happen unless you make it known how you feel.”
Coriolanus’s dreams were filled with you, as they usually were, but something was different the morning he woke up after the conversation with Tigris.
All he had to do was prove himself to you, and he knew that now.
Coriolanus found you in the library a lot, often pretending to stumble upon you. This time, he didn’t put on a facade.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he acknowledged, sitting down beside you. Often he’d sit across, but he was testing the waters. Seeing if you were put off by the proximity. “Studying for Featherly’s class?”
“I’m terrified for his test,” you confided, rubbing your temples as you hunched down at your book. “I feel like my mind has no room for anything else. I’ve memorized nothing.”
With a sigh, you sat up and pushed the book away.
“I can help you,” Coriolanus insisted, reaching for the book. He read over the page you were on, knowing he’d already perfected the subject. “You should’ve asked for me sooner.”
Maybe it was a little spiteful, but he hadn’t purposely meant it to come out that way. You still noticed it, taking your book back.
“I’m not asking for your help now, Coriolanus,” you muttered, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.
You were the last of his friends to still call him that. Most everyone else called him ‘Coryo’. Not you. But you were stubborn in many ways. This too, apparently.
“I didn’t mean anything against you,” he said lightly, even chuckling a little. It was forced, but he wanted to show he wasn’t being that serious.
Using your own words on you did not have the desired effect.
“Mmmhmmm,” you hummed.
Coriolanus tilted his head down, trying to get you to meet his gaze. You gave in, facing him, looking unamused.
He wanted to wipe that look away, but didn’t know how. If he could just make you like him—
Suddenly, your watch began to beep.
“Test time,” you grumbled, taking back your book and getting up.
Coriolanus followed you down the hall and into class. The tests were already on the desks, waiting. You two were early—he noticed that because of the clock on the wall.
He walked you to your seat and wished you good luck. To his surprise, you offered the same in return. Then, he went to his own. Other students filed in quickly after, professor Featherly being the last to enter the room.
The professor declared, “Begin,” then sat at his desk in the middle of the room and began to read.
The test wasn’t easy, but Coriolanus knew what he was doing. One look around the classroom and he saw that wasn’t the case for most other students. He felt a sense of pride, until his gaze landed on you. You were one row down and four seats to the left. He’d counted before. You were fiddling with your pencil, struggling to come up with what to write down.
While he could’ve been the first to finish, Coriolanus let other students turn their tests in before him. An hour passed by, but it moved quickly.
There were only a few students left when you finally got up. You radiated an anxious energy, much like the others, but Coriolanus didn’t care about the others.
Clemensia stuck her hand up in the air, waiting for the professor to notice her, distracting Coriolanus briefly. When the professor looked up and noticed her, Clemansia got her wish.
Coriolanus considered himself lucky, convincing himself with his own mantra frequently. As he watched you leave your test on Featherly’s desk and rush from the room, he realized how he could help you.
He quickly marked down the rest of his answers, having stalled so he could leave when you did. The professor was making his way away from the desk, while Coriolanus got up and went in the opposite direction.
With a swift, hard kick to the leg, the professor's desk wobbled and papers spilled off on the other side. It looked like an accident.
Featherly looked over his shoulder at the noise.
“Sorry,” Coriolanus apologized, kneeling down behind the desk to collect the papers.
Without anyone watching, he found your test. He had no time to change the written questions, but he made quick work of erasing and re-doing the multiple choice, with his own test and knowledge as reference.
He had to give you credit for getting a decent amount correct, but not enough for a passing grade.
When Coriolanus fixed that, he stacked together the papers and placed them back on the desk and exited.
Everyone was waiting in the hall. Against tradition, the professor graded tests directly after and would call students in to give the results. It was time consuming, and kept everyone on campus after hours, which was against the rules, but perhaps he’d gotten some kind of exception.
You were leaning against the wall opposite of the classroom, talking to some girl from the class—Coriolanus didn’t bother to learn her name. He wanted to go to you, but Sejanus got to him first instead.
“How do you think you did?”
Coriolanus shrugged, looking down at his friend. “Fine, I think.” That was the humble answer, right? “How about you?”
“Not perfect, but I passed.”
Clemensia trotted out then, a confident look on her face.
“What was so important you had to ask during the test?” Coriolanus couldn’t help but wonder. She’d unknowingly helped him, after all.
“Just clarity on a question, wanted to make sure I got it right,” she answered with ease.
“And did you?”
She gave Sejanus a look.
“Yes, of course.”
The last person exited the class, and professor Featherly closed the door. And so the grading began.
One by one, the professor called people in. There was no method to the order, it seemed likely he shuffled the papers or chose which one to grade next at random.
Time passed, Coriolanus didn’t know how much exactly, but it was beginning to get dark outside. Tigris would be worried until he got home, but she’d understand. His studies came first.
Eventually, Coriolanus realized it was dwindling down to be just you and him left. He was lucky today.
The third to last student was in the classroom, leaving you across the hall from one another.
You pressed your lips together before speaking.
“Do you think you did alright?”
The corner of Coriolanus’s lip twitched up at the sound of your voice.
“Yes, I think so,” he answered humbly. “What about you?”
You let out a self deprecating laugh. “When I said I was terrified, I wasn’t being dramatic.” You sighed, accepting your fate. “I’ll have to do perfect on the next one, I guess.”
“I can help you with that,” Coriolanus offered.
The smile he gave you spawned a mirror reaction. He knew he was charming, he had to be, and this time you actually seemed receptive to it.
“Maybe you can.”
The sound of a door opening made Coriolanus turn. Arachne was leaving, a smug look on her face as she thanked the professor.
Then the door closed, and the professor graded another test. There were only two left.
“I wish he wouldn’t do it like this,” you filled the silence. “The others don’t make us wait like this.”
“It builds suspense, I suppose,” Coriolanus mused. “Keeps us on our toes.”
“That’s not something I need right now.”
“At least you have good company,” he noted flirtatiously. He couldn’t help but grin at his own words, especially when you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling.
“Could be worse, I supposed,” you retorted.
More time passed. The door opened again.
“Coriolanus Snow,” the professor addressed him next. “Your turn.”
As expected, Coriolanus did close to perfect. One answer off. Best in the class.
Back in the hallway, when he was done, Coriolanus waited with you. He didn’t announce he was staying, he just returned to his spot against the wall.
“Don’t keep a girl waiting. How did you do?” you asked, departing from the wall.
Coriolanus wondered where you were going, but then, you stood next to him, leaning back against the wall. There was still an arms length between the two of you, but it was something. You’d gone to him for once.
“You’ll think I’m full of myself if I tell you,” he teased lightly, which made you roll your eyes.
“Maybe I already think that, so just tell me,” you insisted.
The comment made him falter.
“Best in the class,” he divulged.
You almost looked impressed. “Good for you.”
The door opened.
“Y/N L/N, you’re up.”
“Wish me luck,” you said under your breath before following Featherly in.
“Good luck.”
Coriolanus waited for you, just like before. He tapped his foot. The professor didn’t actually go over the answers, he just told you the grade. You’d have no way of knowing what he did for you, but he’d be there to share in your excitement when you discovered how well you’d done.
Or, how well he’d done for you.
Not long later, you and the professor exited the class together.
“Wasn’t expecting you to still be here,” Featherly addressed Coriolanus. “You should get going. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
Then, he left you and Coriolanus alone in the hall, presumably leaving the building.
“So,” Coriolanus began with a smile. “How did you do?”
“He asked if I’d been studying with you. Apparently we had all the same answers,” you told him, crossing your arms. “Except when I asked him to show me my exam—which I did great on, apparently—I saw answers circled that weren’t mine.”
Coriolanus hadn’t expected you to find out so quickly, but a part of him was relieved you did. It meant he got to take credit, and he could show you that he really did want the best for you.
Or, he could always lie.
“You weren scared of failing,” he finally admitted. He offered a sympathetic smile. “So I helped.”
“No, you cheated!” you accused, causing his eyes to go wide. “You’ve implicated us both. If anyone finds out…”
“Don’t be so loud,” he hissed out in a whisper, stepping closer to you. The professor could still be in the building. He doubted anyone else would be. “I just wanted to help you, okay? You needed it, so I—“
“You helped, I get it. But I didn’t ask you to do that for me, Coriolanus. I have never asked you to do anything for me,” you sneered, somewhere between offended and betrayed.
He saw the way you scanned his face—his eyes. The pleading was beginning to seep through.
A wave of realization washed over you before he even opened his mouth.
“You didn’t have to ask me to,” Coriolanus said meaningfully, stepping closer to you. “I wanted to. I wanted to help you.”
You back hit the wall. The hallway was so empty it seemed as if the subtle sound still echoed.
“I’d do anything for you, don’t you get that?”
The sound of a large door closing carried from a distance.
Coriolanus reached for your face, wishing he could take away the concern that riddled your expression. Instead, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face.
You swallowed. Why did you look so nervous around him? You were friends now, weren’t you? You never looked scared around anyone else. Why him? Why now? His own questions frustrated him.
“We’re not supposed to be on campus after hours,” you said calmly. It was the same tone you used when you first described your indifference to him. Coriolanus thought about that moment a lot. “Featherly already left. We should leave before we get caught.”
The corners of his lips twitched down.
“We’re still talking, though, aren’t we?”
You let out a shallow breath. You had no reason to look as scared as you did.
“I think we’re done.”
Coriolanus thought back to his cousin’s advice. He could’ve followed it better if she’d written it down, perchance.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Coriolanus pondered, smiling to himself at the sight of you. “You caught my eye from the beginning and I—I couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with me.” You watched him carefully. He wondered if you could sense the dejectedness brewing. “Did you see something in me? Is that it?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted under your breath. “People like you, and you’ve been making an effort to be my friend, so I don’t know what told me to stay away from you, but something did. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I still…” you swallowed. “I don’t know.”
The confession should’ve been a relief. That’s what he imagined it would be. That you would admit the truth, and he could fix whatever misconceptions you had.
Coriolanus did not know what to do with “I don’t know”.
Staring down at you, Coriolanus noticed your back was against the wall. Literally. He hadn’t meant to put you there, but he had.
It got you to listen, didn’t it? He’d gotten an answer?
“Can we start over?” Coriolanus suggested, even throwing in a smile that would charm most anyone. It worked on you before. “We can forget all this mess.”
You blinked. You didn’t believe him.
For most people, he wouldn’t simply let numerous slights go, but for you, if it would fix whatever this was, if it meant the two of you could have a real chance, then he’d overcome his instincts—old and new.
“I’m afraid my memory is too good for that,” you finally said, looking up at him with defiance.
Defying what, was the question. It wasn’t as if you were enemies.
The thought made his jaw clench. He let out a laugh that was sharp. It lacked any sense of humor.
“Why can’t you just accept my apology?”
Your brows arched up, questioning him.
“That was supposed to be an apology?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “But it’s not as if I owe you one.”
“I never said you did. I never said anything. You took it upon yourself to insert yourself into my life and now you are not happy with your place in it. You’ve overstepped, and you need to let me leave.”
Coriolanus frowned.
“You act like I’m keeping you here by force.”
You look up at him, silently telling him you believed he was.
That frustrated him further.
In an act that jarred even him, Coriolanus pressed his palms against your shoulders and pushed you back against the wall when you tried to move away.
“This is force,” he declared sternly, leaning down, making you maintain his gaze.
Everyone liked control, but he hadn’t used it in such a physical way before. It thrilled him in an odd way.
“Get your hands off me.”
“Why should I? You already think so poorly of me, why not let you be right?”
You moved again then, trying to catch him off guard and squirm away. But Coriolanus was quick to shove you back against the wall.
“We can still start over. If you would give me a chance, I think we can be good together.”
He let one hand rise to rest on your cheek. Your skin was so smooth. He inhaled deeply, resolve slipping further as his eyes fell to your lips.
If Coriolanus could just prove it to you, he was sure you’d understand what he meant.
He leaned in cautiously, gauging your reaction. You didn’t flinch away. You tilted your chin up, even. That familiar skip of his heart returned.
Coriolanus’s lips only just brushed against yours before you reacted. He had a second of relief before you brought your knee up, jabbing him in the lower stomach, although he doubted that was where you were aiming. It was still enough of a shock to throw him off his game. He stumbled back, and in a flash, you were gone. You were running down the hall—trying to get away from him, like usual.
Only this time, he didn’t feel like letting you go.
Something he had slowly come to learn was when he wanted something, it wasn’t just going to be handed to him. Vying for the Plinth Prize highlighted that, alongside his childhood.
He caught you easily, hand snapping out like a snake to grip your arm and yank you back to him. You collided with his chest. It was like you weren’t even trying. Not really. Just toying with him.
“Am I a game to you?” Coriolanus hissed into your ear, wrapping you in his arms. “Something for you to play?”
“I haven’t done anything to you! I hardly even know you!” you defended, but it just made him hold you tighter.
“I know you,” he implored, fighting against your squirming. He lost balance and when you fell to the ground, you took him with you. Coriolanus got you onto your back, sitting on your thighs, gripping your wrists in his hands to keep you from swinging at him. You let out panicked breaths, staring up at him. “I know more than you think.”
Something about the position made the front of his pants begin to feel constricting.
“Coriolanus, you’re frightening me,” you enunciated, as if trying to reason with him.
“I’m not being unreasonable,” Coriolanus grit out, working to maintain his composure.
“What?” you questioned, brows pinching together, a deep frown on your face. Confused and scared. Coriolanus used to feel that way. “Just let me go.”
“And then what? You go back to ignoring me? No I can’t… I can’t go back to that. If you just give me a chance I can show you.”
Coriolanus didn’t know what happened next.
Tigris told him it was like he left his own head, sometimes. She said he’d get so caught up, he wouldn’t notice things. At the time he had laughed. If anyone stayed aware, it was him.
It wasn’t that he left his head, but got lost in it. Lost in his own inner monologue to realize what he was doing.
In this case, what he’d done.
Far too busy thinking of ways to convey everything he wanted to say to you, how to make you understand, visualizing your reaction, he’d already acted.
Maybe there were two people living in his mind. One with a conscience, one without. Or perhaps that was just something he used to justify his less than decent actions. An excuse. He’d never let himself know the truth. Not really. Not yet.
What he did know was what he could see. You, beneath him, clothes torn from your body. The only thing left was a shirt. Too much effort, apparently. Your wrists were snatched together in one of his hands.
The power stirred something within him.
One might say he was out of excuses when he reached for the zipper of his pants, but no one else was here, were they?
Your mouth was moving. Speaking. Maybe even yelling. Looking at him, looking around the room. He couldn’t hear a sound but his own heart thumping in his ears paired with his own eager breaths. Was that normal?
He moved, wedging himself between your legs, nudging them apart to make room for himself.
“It’s just us,” Coriolanus spoke, loud enough to hear himself. You flinched. “No one’s here.”
He gripped himself, stroking his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. His patience was running incredibly thin.
Tears pricked in your eyes. You stopped struggling at his words, accepting it for what it was. Good.
“Why are you doing this?”
He heard your voice clearly, that time, despite the strain in your tone.
Coriolanus observed you carefully, squeezing your wrists together in one hand and lovingly caressing your hip with the other.
He finally understood the answer you’d given before. He found it fitting now.
“I don’t know.”
To him, it was the truth.
The moment Coriolanus pressed himself inside of you, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared. After so long of wanting you in every way, shape, or form, this was long overdue.
“You’re perfect for me,” he breathed out. Coriolanus gave a shove of his hips, his gaze falling to your mouth as an unwilling yelp slipped out. “I knew you would be.”
You were tight, too tight, even. Unwelcoming. Yet still, you felt like home.
His hand—the one that was on your hip—drifted between your legs. He found your clit, running his thumb in small circles, trying to ease the pressure you must’ve been feeling.
Coriolanus did not want to hurt you.
He looked into unfocused eyes. Where were you? Were you trying to be somewhere else?
He let your hands go. You didn’t move to slap him or shove him or anything. You were learning.
He leaned over you more, reaching for you face with his now free hand, and ran his thumb over your cheek, encouraging your gaze to actually meet his. He smiled softly when you did. You got more beautiful every second he looked at you. It was even better when he could see you were present.
Coriolanus found himself unable to resist it, so he gave into the urge to press his lips to yours. A real kiss, this time.
Your lips were softer than he’d imagined. You made a noise when his tongue tasted your mouth. His kiss was hungry—aggressive, even. But he’d waited so long he didn’t know how to contain himself.
Your body reacted to his touch. Your bent knees inched up his hips to accommodate him, and your walls were becoming slick, accepting the invasion.
A deep moan escaped him, cock throbbing inside you at the feel. The sound was muffled by his lips pressed to yours, but he still felt vulnerable, giving himself to you in this way.
Coriolanus pulled back from the kiss, only to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out a small puff of air from his lips.
“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. Not even the Plinth Prize,” he confessed in a whisper.
“What’s the difference?” You finally spoke, voice wavering. “You have to earn the prize?” The accusing tone felt like a slap.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Coriolanus muttered, eyes boring into yours. “You’ll see.”
He gave you one more searing kiss before moving his hips.
A gasp that morphed into a moan clawed its way up your throat. The sound was like music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again.
He began to move more consistently, finding a pace that suited him. Rough enough to keep you present, but not so harsh as to hurt you. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, even if you were trying to avoid it.
Still figuring you out, Coriolanus found your sweet spot with a hard thrust, causing you to wince. Instinctively, you tried to push him away, just like you had before, not wanting to surrender.
You stilled when you felt his hand. He hardly realized how he’d reacted until he felt your throat bob beneath his palm.
Coriolanus retracted his hand, like your skin and shot a volt through him. His movements slowed to a stop.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized earnestly, brushing the hand through your hair gently. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Your chest heaved as you breathed shaky breaths through your nose. Your lips pressed together in a line.
You weren’t going to dignify him with a response. In a way, he understood.
Coriolanus locked his arms under your body and in a surge of strength, pulled you from the ground and into his lap. He hugged you against him, nuzzling his face into your neck.
“Forgive me,” he requested softly.
You shifted in his lap, adjusting yourself to find comfort in the new position. You did not speak.
He slammed his hips up, forcing a gasp from your lips. That was something, wasn’t it?
You pulled back, and he did it again. And again. And again.
You fell against him, jarred by the change in his movements as he thrust into you. He liked it, feeling you in his lap, your chest against his, leaving you no choice but to hold onto him.
His lips latched onto the skin of your neck as he moved, barring his teeth and nipping the skin. You reacted as if he were venomous, straining away from him, but he’d left his mark.
You could pretend all you wanted that you didn’t like him, but Coriolanus could feel your body reacting to his. He could feel the way your walls squeezed around him, drawing him in, and how your body quivered as he pushed you closer to your edge.
“Just let go,” Coriolanus whispered, holding you tighter. He cradled the back of your head against him as he moved inside of you. Soothing and rough at the same time. “It’s okay, I know you want to.”
“Shut up,” you hissed into his neck, hands finding his chest.
Were you really going to try and get away from him? It was a bit late for that.
Coriolanus moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit with the pad of his thumb, speeding along the process.
“What was that?” he taunted, feeling your legs start to shake.
A moan tore from your throat as you came around him, body slumping against his as he shoved himself deeper inside you. He wanted to feel your body tensed around him.
“That’s it,” he drawled, pressing his face to the side of your head. He inhaled, letting your scent flood him. Every sense was overwhelmed by you and if anything, it made him hunger for even more.
You became more pliable in your daze, going easily when Coriolanus laid you back down on the cold ground. He planted one hand on the ground near your head, where he held most of his weight, while the other rested on the base of your neck. Not squeezing, just resting. Reminding you of before.
Now that he’d taken care of you, made you realize the pleasure he could inflict upon you, it was his turn. Coriolanus was relentless with the thrust of his cock inside you, stretching you around him, groaning with nearly every movement. You felt so good, he never wanted to leave the warmth of your body.
You shifted beneath him, squirming as the intense feeling. Coriolanus was tempted to drag it out, to watch your face as the pleasure became too much for you to handle.
If it wasn’t for the desire to fill you, to claim you, he would’ve. There would be more times after this, he’d ensure it. He didn’t own a lot, but he treasured the things that he did.
“I can’t let you go, not now.” He meant to keep it inside his head, but the words spilled out. “You’re the only thing I want.”
At that moment, it was true.
Coriolanus gave one final shove of his hips before spilling inside of you. It crashed over him in an unexpected wave. His whole body shivered with pleasure at the feel of your body milking him. You wanted him. Your denial would eventually fade. He was sure of it.
Coriolanus let out a heavy sigh of your name as he watched your face. You’d turned your head, wincing as he filled you to the brim.
“Hey,” Coriolanus said when he finished, voice low. He ran a delicate hand over your face, persuading you to open your eyes. “We’re okay.”
As much as he didn’t want to, Coriolanus withdrew from you. You’d given up fighting against him, so he took the opportunity to help you redress. You were so pliant, it was like dressing a doll.
You rested your arms on your knees when he made you sit up. He wasn’t keeping you from moving from the floor, you chose not to.
Coriolanus watched you cautiously, searching for the same fire in you before, trying to figure out if he’d somehow snuffed it out.
There was a nagging in his gut. It was only for a brief second, but his confidence wavered.
“Can you talk to me?” he pressed, laying a hand on your shoulder and he knelt across from you, pants readjusted.
It was as if nothing happened, but you both knew that was untrue.
“Why should I?” You wrinkled your nose as you focused on the ground.
“Because, I care about you,” Coriolanus replied without thought, gaze softening. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I don’t think you care for me,” you said in a tone so hushed, Coriolanus wasn’t sure if you even meant for him to hear. Then, you met his eyes. The fire had only been dulled, not put out. “I think you’re a liar, Coriolanus Snow.”
His hands fell to clasp yours. He brought one to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of your palm. You eyed him as if he were some sort of predator, but he managed a smile nonetheless.
“Let me prove it to you, and you’ll come to learn you’ve been wrong about me all along.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)
Dick: he’s insulted.
Gutted.
He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.
‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’
He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.
He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.
Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)
Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.
It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.
He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.
Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)
Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀
When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.
You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.
Damian:
As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.
Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.
So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.
‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.
Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.
So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.
He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.
He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.
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cutielando · 2 months
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driving around ~ lando norris
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Summary: Lando is dating Max’s sister, who is too stubborn to admit that she is sick.
Words: 1.2k+
Other works: my masterlist
a/n: thank you so much @rayaharper for requesting this !!❤️
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“You’re not driving”
“Why not??” 
“You’re sick, I’m not risking putting you behind the wheel just because you’re stubborn”
You had been bickering like this for nearly 10 minutes now, neither of you wanting to compromise for the other. 
It’s not like you were that sick, you were coughing a bit, with a runny nose, sore muscles and a little temperature. You were basically fine and good to go.
But Lando didn’t agree on that.
He blamed what he called the “Verstappen stubborn gene.” He always made fun of you and your brother, Max, for sharing that stubborn trait that he hated so much.
It was also because he was a stubborn person as well, which meant that you would oftentimes clash regarding pretty much everything.
Just like you were doing now.
You were insisting to drive you and Lando to the track so he could get some more rest and the boy was having none of it.
“Just because I’m a little sick doesn’t mean I’m incapable of driving, Lando” you complained, rolling your eyes which hurt right in your sinuses.
That should have been the first sign to stop you from being so adamant to drive, but you weren’t about to give up so easily.
“Little sick? You’ve been burning up for 2 days and can barely get any sleep without waking up in cold sweat. You hardly eat anything and your sinuses are clogged” he reasoned, making you look at him.
He was right. Everything he was saying was the truth.
But it still didn’t sway you.
“It’s just a cold, I can manage just fine” you said before opening the door and getting into the driver’s seat.
Lando sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hates how stubborn you were at times, and he knew that his attempts to get you to let him drive would be in vain.
With that being said, he just sighed once again and got into the passenger seat.
“Just so we’re clear, I don’t condone this and I’m really not okay with you driving in this state” he said once he buckled up, tracking your every movement with his eyes.
“Babe, I’ll be fine. It’s just a short ride, it’s not like I’ll be driving for hours” you attempted to soothe him, but it clearly wasn’t working.
He only hummed and looked back at the road, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.
As you started the relatively short drive from your hotel and towards the track, you could slowly feel your eyes burning, the soreness in your muscles escalating with each minute and your headache coming in strong.
It was in those moments that you knew he had been right and you shouldn’t have insisted on driving. You could feel nausea coming quickly onto your body, making you swallow harshly in order to tame it for now.
You had barely made it to the track safely, Lando already knowing that you would be way too tired to even watch the race after this.
“I told you so” he said, standing beside you as you weakly managed to get out of the car.
You glared at him, the movement hurting your sinuses even more. 
“I just wanted you to get some more rest before we got here” you said, pouting at him with glossy eyes.
He sighed when he looked at you, bringing you into his arms right away. He kissed your forehead, frowning once he felt how hot you were and saw how sick you actually looked.
“I know you did, but baby, you’re sick. I don’t want to rest when you’re feeling like this, I want to take care of you. And I can’t do that when you argue with me and put me on the spot for wanting to help you” he said, gently trying to make you see that he only wanted what was best for you.
Deep down, you knew you had been wrong, and right now in Lando’s arms, you realized just how much you had needed his warmth and his hug.
“I’m sorry for being stubborn” your voice was small, but he still heard you.
“Come on, let’s get you to hospitality and find some medicine and a quiet place to rest for you” he let go of you and opened the door to take your bags, taking your hand and leading you to the McLaren hospitality.
He manages to avoid the paparazzi on the way to the motorhome, keeping you close to his body.
Once you got to the motorhome, Jon was waiting for Lando there, his eyebrows instantly furrowing once he saw the state you were in.
“What’s wrong with her?” Jon asked Lando once he sat you down at a table and wrapped his jacket around your body.
Lando sighed, looking back at how you were practically sleeping on the chair before he turned around to talk to his trainer.
“She’s been sick for the past few days and today she insisted on driving us to the track even when I told her she’s too sick to drive. We just barely got here okay because she got worse on the road” he explained, his voice hushed as he kept stealing glances at his passed out girlfriend.
“Have you talked to her doctor or something?” Jon asked worriedly, caring for you just as much as Lando ever since the two of you were introduced.
Lando nodded. “I did, she said we should just wait for it to pass, that she should get plenty of rest and shouldn’t do much, but you know how she is” he explained further.
“You have one stubborn girlfriend, mate” Jon joked, bumping his shoulder in order to help the driver relax.
Lando chuckled, nodding knowingly. 
Just as he was about to say something else, you whined as you started to wake up, trying to wrap the jacket even tighter around your body.
“Lan?” your voice was small, your eyes slowly blinking open.
“I’m here, baby. Come on, let’s get you to a room where you can rest up. Jon will look after you” he said while picking you up bridal style.
The three of you made your way upstairs to a free room, Lando immediately bundled you up in your blankets that he brought for you and helped you take your medicine.
Even in your current state, somewhere between reality and sleep, you realized just how much you needed to rest and how truly sick you were.
“Thank you for taking care of me and sorry for insisting on driving today” you said when he finished fussing over you and leaned down to kiss your forehead.
Lando shook his head, brushing a strand of your hair from your eyes.
“Don’t apologize, just get some rest and I’ll see you after practice, okay?” you nodded, settling into the tiny bed and allowing yourself to succumb to your sleep.
Lando left you in the room partly against his will, but with the reassurance that Jon would take care of you while he was in the car.
And, at the end of the day, he was always going to take care of you, no matter what.
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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months
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All’s Fair in Love and Quidditch
Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader
Summary: All’s fair in love and quidditch. At least until Matteo’s poorly aimed bludger knocks you off of your broom.
word count: 3.7k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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“Get your wand. Out of my face.” You growl between clenched teeth, glaring up at the tall boy in front of you whose wand was dangerously close to the tip of your nose.
Theodore Nott. You’d first met the boy in third year on the quidditch pitch after his team had beat yours. It had been a long and grueling match and the only reason they’d won is because of that bloody snitch. Ravenclaw had been up in points the entire match. You remember the boy smirking at you as you lowered your broom to the ground.
“Better luck next time principessa.” He’d said.
You’d taken that personally, and the very next week, you’d stolen the position of top of the class in potions from him. This had apparently acted as a declaration of war as the two of you began constantly finding ways to outdo one another.
You seethed with hatred for the boy. Constantly challenging you in classes, on the pitch, even at prefects meetings. You two simply could not see eye to eye; which he constantly reminded you was likely because he was well over half a foot taller than you. Bloody bastard. It didn’t help that the boy was aggravatingly handsome. A detail you couldn’t help but appreciate as he loomed above you. Still, you glare on.
Despite the immediate threat of peril, you remained surprisingly calm knowing that, while you and Theodore may be intense rivals, he’d never actually harm you. At least you hoped. You’d seen his knuckles bloodied plenty of times before, but he’d never harmed so much as a hair on your head. Yet.
Theo’s words shake you back into the present.
“Then get off the bloody pitch. Like we said, we have the pitch booked until 7.”
“No, we booked it starting at 6. We have a signed slip from Flitwick,” You retort.
You watch Theodore’s eyes flick over to the piece of paper Cho was now brandishing smugly before whipping around to his teammates behind him.
“What the hell Malfoy. You were supposed to have Snape reserve the field!” He shouts.
You roll your eyes at the bickering boys. This is one of the many reasons you disliked the male population of Slytherin house. Wildly disorganized, yet still expecting to have everything handed to them.
“I did! They must’ve bloody double booked it!” Draco replies, glaring at the paper.
“Well then it looks like either you all leave, or we’re sharing,” you say decidedly, much to the grumbling of your teammates.
Theo scowls at you. “We gathered as much thanks- we’re not idiots.”
You give the boy a sugary sweet smile. “You’re doing an awfully good impression of it then.” You reply, hoping that if you annoyed him enough, he’d leave already.
You watch the boy’s jaw and fists clench tightly as his scowl deepens before he turns and stalks off.
“C’mon. I’m not dealing with that bloody witch today.” He snaps at his teammates who follow hesitantly, but not before shooting some nasty looks over their shoulders.
Once they’re out of earshot, you hear your teammates burst into laughter.
“That was bloody brilliant!” One of your beaters calls out, leaning on his broom as he shakes with laughter.
“Oh y/n, he so likes you,” Cho snickers as she pushes past you onto the field.
Your jaw drops open at that and you rush after the girl.
“Excuse you, you can’t just walk off after dropping something so wildly ridiculous on me like that,” you protest, mirroring your friend as she hops on her broom and takes off into the air.
“Oh please. I could cut the sexual tension between you two with a well placed diffindo charm. And he’d never give in to anyone else that easily. Now heads up or your head will be taken off by that bludger,” she responds easily, dodging out of the path of the ball hurtling towards you.
You quickly follow, barely managing to side sweep the bludger before turning back to your friend. Before you’re able to further probe her however, she’s taken off in search of the elusive snitch.
You try to shake off her words as you continue to fly through practice, joining your fellow chasers as they go head to head with your keeper, trying to make a shot through one of the hoops.
“Nice shot, y/n! Better keep that aim up for the game this weekend. I wanna beat those snakes so bad,” the keeper shouts as you make throw past him.
“Not a chance in hell those slithering bastards are taking the cup again,” you reply with a grin.
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“Excited to see your little witch today?” Matteo asks, plopping himself into his seat next to Theo.
Theo glares at his curly haired friend, snapping his textbook closed with a grunt.
“She’s not my witch Mattheo. I can’t stand her,” Theo mumbles back.
“Right, right. It’s just y/n this, y/n that. Did you see y/n helping Cormac with charms the other day? He’s such a bloody wanker. Blah, blah, blah.” Enzo says, joining the two boys at the desk next to them.
Theo scowls at his so called friends. So what if he happened to notice you a bit too often? They knew full well that the two of you had a sort of rivalry going on and that he had to keep tabs on you to make sure you didn’t sneak something by him. Constant vigilance and what not.
Before he could defend himself however, you burst through the doors of the potions classroom with a group of your fellow Ravenclaws, coming to take your spot at the desk directly in front of him.
“Hey, thanks for giving us the pitch last night Theodore. Stomping off the field like that, was really such a testament to you being the bigger person.” You say, turning to give the boy an innocent smile as you slide into your seat.
“What can I say, I just know your team will need all the help they can get to try and beat us tomorrow,” Theo replied easily, eyes falling as he notices the hem of your skirt ride up a bit higher than normal as you sit down.
“Aw, that’s so considerate coming from someone whose shooting percentage is barely over 50%.”
Theo’s eyes snap up at this.
You hear Enzo snicker at that before he quickly attempts to cover it up with a loud cough.
“Yeah? It’s so interesting that you know my stats off the top of your head.” Theo retorts.
“They really help build my ego when I feel like I’m playing poorly.”
“So always?”
You glare at the boy, but before you’re able to respond, the professor clears their throat, forcing you to turn in your seat.
As the professor begins droning on about whatever potion it was that you were to be making that day, Theo’s eyes couldn’t help but wander to the pretty witch in front of him. For such a pain in his side, you sure were easy on the eyes. Before he knows it, he feels Mattheo’s elbow digging into his rib cage.
“C’mon lover boy, neither of us are going to pass if you don’t start focusing less on y/n and more on this potion, cause I was not paying attention.” Mattheo grunts, pulling him off his seat and over to the stock of potion ingredients along the back wall.
“I wasn’t even looking at her,” Theo protests, glaring at his friend as he begins pulling ingredients haphazardly off the shelves.
“Right. Because if you were, you’d have noticed that the white ribbon in her hair was crooked. Bothered me the entire time we were sitting there.” Mattheo replies, leaning lazily against the counter.
Theo shoots a nasty look at his friend realizing his eyes had once again wandered over to the witch in question.
“The ribbon in her hair is navy blue you dolt. And it’s not crooked.”
Mattheo gives him a victorious smirk.
“Too true. So glad we cleared up the fact that you were only staring enough to remember the exact color of her hair ribbon and whether or not it was crooked.”
With another smug look over his shoulder, Mattheo saunters back over to their shared desk, leaving Theo to finish collecting ingredients in agitated silence.
Glancing back down at his list, Theo quickly collected the rest of their ingredients, tossing the anjelica, bitter root, and daisy root essence into his basket, careful to not steal any more obvious glances at you.
As he went to return to his seat, the soft petals of the flower assortments sitting neatly in their assigned jars once again caught Theo’s eyes and a small smile grew as a masterful plan began to form.
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“That BLOODY, FUCKING SNAKE!” you shriek as you open your quidditch locker to find a stunning bouquet of bright daises and velvet roses propped up against your broom.
Hearing the commotion, Cho rushes over to find you glaring menacingly at the offending flowers, a look of exasperation overtaking her face.
“For Rowena’s sake, not flowers. How dare he. The nerve,” she says dryly.
“Aww. How romantic. That’s so sweet. Are they from Theodore?” One of the other chasers adds, coming to see what all the noise was about.
Your glare shifts to your teammates as they peak into your locker to get a glimpse of the flowers.
“I’m allergic.” You grit out. As if to emphasize your point, you let out a loud sneeze, feeling the pollen reach your nose.
Your teammates’ faces fall slightly at your statement and you go to extract the flowers from your locker.
“Well- I suppose there’s something to be said about the fact that he knows exactly which flowers you’re allergic to, and how he went out of his way to buy them for you?” Cho offers as you toss the flowers onto the bench behind you.
A note flutters to the floor.
“Yes. It can be said that he’s a psychotic wanker with too much free time,” you say, bending down to snatch the note off the ground.
Good luck Principessa, hope you play similarly to how the flowers make you feel xxTheodore
“He literally tried to kill me so I wouldn’t be able to play,” you announce dramatically, thrusting the note card towards Cho who rolls her eyes as she shakes her head at you.
“Alright, we need to focus. Y/n, get rid of those flowers, we don’t need you sniffling all match. Everyone on the pitch in 15!” Cho yells, pulling the team together.
Shaking the thoughts of that damn Slytherin from your mind, you unceremoniously dump the large bouquet into the trash before quickly changing into your robes.
“Everyone remember the new offensive formations? We need to take them by surprise. They’ve gotten way too comfortable running the same defense against every team. Remember. If you can’t see Mattheo or Blaise, they’ve flanked you and there’s already a bludger aimed at the back of your head. Theo and Enzo stick together, third chaser is on their own. Flint is a lefty, if you can, always go for the right hoop. Prioritize y/n, when going for the goal posts unless you think they’ve picked up on it. Don’t worry about me and Draco, focus on gaining a lead. Everyone clear?”
You blink once, soaking in Cho’s words.
“Alright. Let’s get out there and stomp on some snakes.”
Your teammates let out loud whoops as you make your way out to the field, adrenaline beginning to course through your body. The breeze blows gently through your hair and the sun shines softly behind a thin layer of clouds. The perfect day for quidditch.
As you grow closer to the pitch, you can hear the loud cheers and hollers coming from the stands, the faces of your fellow Ravenclaws grinning down at you.
“Coin toss is on you, y/n. Try not to let him rile you up too much, yeah?” Cho says, mounting her broom with the rest of the team.
You nod as they take off and make your way down to the center of the pitch where Hooch is already waiting.
“Ah, y/n! Beautiful day for a match yeah?” She greets as you approach.
You offer a tight smile and nod as you see Theodore approach, cocky smile in place.
“Alright, you two know the drill. Snitch or broomsticks, Ravenclaw, your call, on three,” Hooch says, holding a large gold coin out on her palm.
You feel Theodore’s eyes on you as Hooch tosses the coin into the air.
“Broomsticks.”
The three of you watch as the coin hits the ground, three gleaming broomsticks shining in the sunlight.
Theo’s lips tighten, but he doesn’t say anything.
“We’ll take the ball first then,” you say with a tight lipped smile.
“Very well, go on then, shake hands.”
Swallowing your displeasure, you tentatively extend your hand.
With a lop sided grin, Theo grasps your hand.
“Like your flowers Principessa?”
“They were lovely. Really spruced up the trash can.”
Without another word, the two of you returned to your respective sides of the field, joining your teams in the air.
“We got ball,” you shout, once you’re within earshot of your teammates. The boys let out a whoop of excitement.
“Let’s make this a nice, clean match today, yeah?” Hooch shouts from her place on the field. Without waiting for a response, she points her wand at the chest, waiting below and the lid flies open, releasing the balls within.
Your eyes immediately lock onto the quaffle as it makes its way into the air, diving down and snatching it, a chaser on either side of you. You slip easily into your rhythm of dodging and weaving around your opponents, passing the quaffle around as you make your way to the opposing goal posts.
As the ball is being passed back to you however, Enzo pushes past, intercepting. Cursing under your breath, you whip around, close on his tail.
As if seeing your need, a bludger whizzes straight at Enzo, forcing him to drop the ball into your waiting arms.
This time, you’re able to make it to the opposite side, but with Theo and Enzo close on your tail, you’re forced to surrender the ball to your teammate who narrowly misses.
“Next time!” You shout in encouragement.
This back and forth goes on for what seems like ages, with neither team managing to score a point.
Finally, the ball is back in your arms as you speed towards Flint.
“Don’t choke now, Principessa,” you hear Theodore shout from beside you on the right.
“Please. Save your breath. You’ll probably need it to blow up your next play,” you retort.
“You know your ass is probably jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” Theo snaps.
“Yeah? You’d love to see my jealous ass wouldn’t you?”
Theo jolts in shock, and that moment is all you need to take a dive to the right, securing the first goal of the match.
It all falls into place after that and soon enough, your team is up 80 points. A comfortable lead, but not enough.
“C’mon guys! C’mon! Keep it up, this one’s ours!” You hear your keeper shout as they toss the quaffle to you.
You nearly fumble the catch as a bludger soars past your broom.
“Stay on her and keep those damn bludgers away!” You vaguely hear Cho call out to one of your beaters as you again make your way to the opposite end of the field.
After scoring two more goals, the Slytherin team finally gets the idea to begin putting more pressure and focus on you, with at least one chaser always guarding you.
“For Rowena’s sake, I don’t even have room to breathe!” you shout as you pass Cho briefly.
As the match continues with no end in sight, Mattheo and Blaise begin to grow bolder, narrowly missing a few heads. Their own teammates’ included.
“Watch it you bloody wanker!” You hear Enzo call out after Blaise nearly takes out the end of his broom.
With a sharp turn, you’re able to break away from his steady pursuit just long enough to safely secure the quaffle once more.
“Dammit Enz,” Theo grunts as he flies up beside you.
You ignore their bickering, eyes taking in the field and your surroundings. You spot your other two chasers gliding below you, gearing up to be positioned for a clear pass. Your beaters are no where in sight, and only Rowena knew where Cho was flying off to.
You make several attempts to lose the two green robed Slytherins on either side of you, but they remain stuck to your side.
Suddenly, you see Enzo’s broom dip. Thinking this is your chance, you turn quickly, trying to see if you have a clear pass to one of your teammates.
“Y/n!” Theo shouts.
But it’s too late.
The last thing you remember is the feeling of falling and strong arms wrapping around you before everything goes black.
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When your eyes finally flutter open, the first thing you notice is the sky and how dark it is. What time was it? Slowly, you begin to sit up, a distinct pounding in the back of your head causing you to wince slightly. Looking about, you realize you were in the hospital wing and still in your quidditch robes. Ew.
The next thing you notice, is the mop of soft brown hair lying face down on the hospital bed beside you. As your eyes follow the body down to the chair it’s slumped on, you take in the familiar green robes that distinguish the boy as a Slytherin.
The hairs on your neck prickle as you recognize the boy. How could you not?
“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a poke.
No sign of life.
“Theodore,” you say, a bit louder this time, shaking him gently.
“Shove off Matt. You and Toria can find another place to shag for the night,” he grumbles, shifting further into the coarse hospital bed blanket.
You let out a snort.
“Seriously Theodore, wake up,” you say, growing frustrated.
Finally the boy sits up groggily before appearing to remember where he was.
“Oh. Mornin principessa,” he drawls, smiling lazily at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“What happened? And why on earth are you here of all people?” You ask, ignoring the pet name that you seemingly couldn’t shake as a yawn escapes you.
“That’s really no way to treat your knight in shining armor.” Theo tsks, stretching his arms out and leaning back in his chair. “I’m the one who caught you after Matt knocked you off your broom after all. Bludger to the head is no joke.”
You grimace. No wonder your head was throbbing.
“What a fucking git,” you grumble, falling back onto the bed.
Theo shrugs, not seeming to disagree.
Stupid Mattheo and his stupid bloody aim. Utter shit. And of course it had to be bloody Theodore of all people who saved you. Though you weren’t entirely sure you minded, closing your eyes briefly, an image of Theo in his quidditch uniform flashing through your mind.
“You never answered the second question.” You say after a moment of silence.
Theo looks at you, his head cocked to the side.
“Why are you here?”
“You’re hurt,” he says simply, as if it made all the sense in the world.
Your frown doesn’t quite reach the tips of your mouth as you look over at the brunette boy staring back at you.
No matter how many times you told yourself that you utterly detested the boy, you were never quite able to say it with your full chest. And for Rowena’s sake, it was not fair for someone to look this good at this time of night, in sweaty quidditch robes.
“You don’t like me.” You say quietly, not quite sure how true that statement truly was as the boy’s eyes had yet to stray away from you.
“Oh I can’t stand you.” Theodore replies, suddenly much closer than you remember.
“You’re the absolute worst person on earth,” you say, feeling yourself magnetize towards the boy beside you.
“I despise you with every bone in my being,” he responds before slowly, tentatively closing the gap.
His lips are fire against yours, not burning, but consuming. You feel yourself getting lost in the sensation of his lips moving hungrily against yours as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you in closer. You would definitely be blaming this lapse in judgement on the fact that you’d taken a bludger to the head earlier. Or maybe not, you think hazily as a soft moan escapes your lips.
“Easy there principessa,” Theo murmurs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s not hurt that pretty little head of yours.”
With a silent nod, you lean back, mind still reeling a bit given the night’s events.
Hesitantly, as if not wanting to spook you, Theo edges his way onto the bed beside you. Realizing his intent, you scoot over a bit, allowing yourself to be tucked carefully into his arms.
“If it makes you feel any better about being knocked out, Ravenclaw did end up winning. And your team visited after the match was over.” Theo says as you rest your head on his chest.
You smile at that.
“Good. Slytherin is shit.” You reply.
“You take that back.”
“Make me.”
Theo’s lips find yours once more, and you feel him grin against your lips.
“I’m still mad about those flowers you sent by the way,” you say once he pulls away.
A smirk overtakes Theo’s face as he looks down at you.
“I’m sorry principessa.”
“No you aren’t,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“No I’m not. That was one of my better bits I’d say.”
“It was pretty good.”
Another yawn escapes your lips, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the boy holding you in his arms.
“Sleep now, principessa,” he says, fingers stroking gently through your hair.
You didn’t have to be told twice.
Not a single person was surprised when the Slytherin and Ravenclaw quidditch teams walked into the infirmary the next morning to find the two of you wrapped in each other’s embrace.
“Bloody took them long enough,” Mattheo says, finally breaking the silence.
Cho can’t help but nod in agreement.
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The rivals to lovers quidditch fic that no one asked for, but I wrote anyways 🤗
2K notes · View notes
sweet-as-an-angel · 3 months
Note
how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?
Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans
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Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.
Wordcount: 4364 words
♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.
♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.
♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.
♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.
♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.
♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.
♡ Lust and rage.
♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.
♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.
♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.
♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.
♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.
♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.
♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.
♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.
♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.
♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.
♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”
♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.
♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.
♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.
♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.
♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.
♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.
♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.
♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.
♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.
♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.
♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”
♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”
♡ You try again.
♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”
♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”
♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.
♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.
♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.
♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.
♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.
♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.
♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.
♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.
♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”
♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.
♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.
♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.
♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.
♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”
vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.
♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”
♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.
♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.
♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.
♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival. 
♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.
♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.
♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.
-
♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.
♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.
♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.
♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.
♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.
♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.
♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.
♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.
♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.
♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.
♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.
♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.
♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.
♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.
♡ Then, a memory.
♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.
♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.
♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.
♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.
♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.
♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.
♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.
♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.
♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.
♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.
♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.
♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.
♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.
♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.
♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.
♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.
♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.
♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.
♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.
♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.
♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.
♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”
♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.
♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.
♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”
♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.
♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.
♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.
♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”
♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.
♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”
♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.
♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.
♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”
♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.
♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”
♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.
♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”
♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.
♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”
♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.
♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.
♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.
♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”
♡ Your words caught in your throat again.
♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–
♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.
♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.
♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.
♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–
♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.
♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?
♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.
♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.
♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.
♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.
♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.
♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.
♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two. 
♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.
♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.
♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.
♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.
♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.
♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.
♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.
♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.
♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.
♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.
♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.
♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.
♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.
♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.
♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.
-
♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.
♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.
♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.
♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.
♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.
♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?
♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.
♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.
♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”
♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.
♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.
♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.
♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.
♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.
♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.
♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.
♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.
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hyewka · 7 months
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idk if this is allowed but,
threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu
⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐
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⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.
⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au
⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭
⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!
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“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”
Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”
“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”
You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.
Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.
This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.
You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.
“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”
Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.
You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.
“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”
You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.
Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”
“I do not.”
“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.
Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”
Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”
You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.
“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.
“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”
Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”
“Two people, still very little.” he counters.
Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.
“Jihyo, Miyeon—”
“I fucked Miyeon.”
“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”
He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.
“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.
“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.
“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.
You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.
“Just beer.” You reply.
He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.
You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”
He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”
You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.
“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.
“Aye aye captain.”
He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”
You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”
Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.
You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”
“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.
Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.
…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.
The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.
You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.
“I’m fucking her ass here.”
Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.
“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.
Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.
You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”
You shake your head, dismissing him.
Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.
“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.
“But not a liar.”
“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”
“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.
Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”
God, this again!
“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”
“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.
“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”
“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”
“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”
Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”
“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.
“Had someone nut in your ass?”
You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”
You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.
“Have you done it without a condom?”
You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.
“Is this an interrogation?”
Yeonjun shrugs.
“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.
Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.
Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”
You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.
“Gotten fingered?”
“Well no shit.”
Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”
“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.
Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”
“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”
“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”
Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”
“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”
“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”
Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.
You shudder remembering the scene.
“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”
You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”
“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”
Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.
You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”
Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.
“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.
You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.
“But I want to.”
…What.
That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.
Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-
“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.
He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”
You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.
He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”
You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”
Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.
The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”
You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.
But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”
You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”
Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”
You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”
He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”
Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.
But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”
At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.
Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.
And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.
That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.
Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.
Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”
And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”
Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”
The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.
Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”
You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”
This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.
Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”
Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”
“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”
You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?
Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”
“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.
Fuck it.
You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.
Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”
You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.
The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”
Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.
You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.
“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.
You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”
You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.
"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.
"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.
Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"
You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.
Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.
You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.
“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.
Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”
“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.
His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.
Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.
You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”
You nod, humming.
“Words princess.”
“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”
He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.
You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.
And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.
“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”
You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.
“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.
You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.
Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.
“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”
Can you even take that in your mouth?
He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.
“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.
You think you might just faint.
“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.
But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.
You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.
“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”
Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”
You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.
It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.
He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.
Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.
“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”
You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.
To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.
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