#welcome to neons mommy issues

[neon-danger]

How’s it going friend?

Have you been working on any stories?

I have a oneshot done but I haven’t proof read and I’m not sure how much I actually like it

[hexpea]

Ch. 8 - Seedling The symbolic meaning of seedlings is often associated with potential, trust, and hope. ⚠️NSFW BELOW⚠️ AN: TW: Elements of non-con

You sat up suddenly, the room clouded with darkness as you adjusted to your surroundings now sober. You pressed the button on your phone so it would light up and display the time: 4:00am. You shifted onto your back, groaning softly as the remnants of your restless sleep clung to your senses. The room felt too warm, too stifling, and the pounding headache that accompanied your awakening didn't help matters. As you slowly became more aware of your surroundings, the memories of the previous night flooded back. The pulsating music, the neon lights, the intimate dance with Naoya all replayed in your mind like some kind of hazy dream. But reality hit even harder when you turned your head and your eyes focused on the man sleeping beside you.

Naoya laid there, his features softened in his sleep, a stark contrast to the hardness that usually defined him. You could hear the soft sounds of his rhythmic breathing, his peaceful face quite a sight considering the man you were used to. However, the tranquility was short-lived as he began to shift and mumble in his sleep.

"N...no, Mmmom...don't leave. C-come back," Naoya stuttered, his voice a mixture of desperation and pain. His fists gripped at the sheets, his grip opening and closing as if chasing after something. The vulnerability in his sleep-induced ramblings had become a regular occurrence, one you hadn't brought up since that first night.

Your brow furrowed with concern as you watched his unconscious body clutch the sheets. His mommy issues were ever-apparent even in his dreams. A surge of empathy tugged at your heart, urging you to reach out, to offer comfort to the tormented soul lying beside you. Just as your hand hovered in the air, ready to bridge the gap between you and him, a haunting voice echoed in your mind. It wasn't Naoya's voice, but the cold, calculating tone of your father, reminding you of your duty, your purpose.

"Y/N, you can't afford to be swayed by emotions. Your duty is clear. The Zenin heirs must fall to strengthen our clan one way or another. You don't have the luxury of love; it's a weakness that you cannot afford."

The memory of your father's scolding replayed in your mind like a relentless loop. You winced at the idea, the pain of losing someone you genuinely cared for surfacing once again. The seven years of marriage to Naohiro, a man you had actually loved, had ended in tragedy. The cautionary tale lingered, reminding you that love was a dangerous territory, a luxury you couldn't afford. The conflict within you intensified as the need for duty clashed with the empathetic desire to comfort Naoya.

With a resigned sigh, you pulled your hand back, abandoning the idea of offering solace to the troubled man beside you. Instead, you slid out of the bed, careful not to disturb his restless sleep. Gathering your things, draped in his shirt that he'd given you, you silently padded towards the bathroom, the cool floor beneath your feet much different than the warmth of the bed you'd just left behind.

The hot water cascaded over you, a welcome relief from the throbbing headache and lingering regret. As the steam enveloped the bathroom, you tried to wash away not only the physical remnants of the night but also the emotional turmoil that accompanied it. Memories of your time with Naohiro plagued your mind as you recalled Naoya's troubled sleep and your father's voice echoing in your head.

Meanwhile, Naoya stirred in bed, his eyes squinting against the intrusion of daylight that had begun to seep into the room. The hangover lingered as a dull ache in his temples. He blinked, surveying the room, and a jolt of realization hit him as he noticed the disheveled state of the bed and the lingering scent of sex in the air. His gaze shifted to your empty futon, neatly made up, betraying no sign of the intimacy that had transpired between you. Confusion clouded his features as he tried to piece together the events of the night before.

Running a hand through his disheveled hair, Naoya sat up, the remnants of his groggy hangover very much present. As his memories gradually came into focus, the intensity of your shared moment surged within him. His heart fluttered, a flicker of vulnerability threatening to surface. "No," he muttered angrily to himself, as if trying to dispel the emotions that threatened to rise.

In an attempt to make sense of it all, he scanned the room for any clues. His eyes fell on the discarded clothes, the tousled sheets, and the faint marks of passion stained into them. A tinge of regret mingled with curiosity as he recalled the moments leading up to your shared intimacy. As he wrestled with the realization of the previous night's events, you walked back into the room fresh from your shower albeit with damp hair. The awkward tension was incredibly present as your eyes met and you both found yourselves at a loss for words.

"Good morning," you said, your voice carrying a hint of unease. You averted your gaze as you stepped further into the room to put your shower things away in one of the nearby cabinets.

Naoya chuckled darkly as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with a predatory gaze. "We had an interesting night, didn't we?" He remarked, his tone casual, almost indifferent.

Your eyes darted briefly to him as you came to stand straight, registering the subtle shift in the conversation. "It was...something," you replied cautiously, choosing your words carefully while crossing your arms tightly against your chest.

He leaned back on his hands, a smug grin playing on his lips. "Something, indeed. We didn't just dance, did we?"

You sighed inwardly, feeling a surge of irritation at his arrogance. "Naoya, it happened. Let's not dwell on it." Your words carried the confirmation he needed to refresh his memory.

His grin widened. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of dwelling on it," he relied smugly, "once is enough for me."

You rolled your eyes at his demeanor. "How gracious of you," you retorted, unable to suppress a hint of sarcasm as you relaxed your posture and peeled back the cover to your futon to slip inside, desperately needing more sleep after such a night of revelry.

Ignoring your response, Naoya got up from the bed and began gathering his things for his own shower. "I'll need to scrub the filthy remnants of you off of me," he remarked casually, a smirk playing on his lips.

You couldn't help but scoff at his comment as you snuggled further into your pillow on the floor, the audacity of his arrogance grating on your nerves. "Don't strain yourself," you muttered under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief.

Naoya chuckled darkly at your retort, his smug expression maintaining as he sauntered out of the room with an air of superiority. His laughter echoed in the now empty space as you attempted to find a more fulfilling sleep.

Meanwhile, as he walked down the hallway, he ground his teeth together, the memory of the way you'd made him feel just a few short hours ago gnawed at him like a relentless beast. As he stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, the hot water cascading over his tense muscles, he tried to push aside the thoughts of you. But the image of your tousled hair, the curve of your body, and the passion between you refused to fade. It was intoxicating, infuriating, and undeniably alluring.

Anger boiled within him as he forcibly scrubbed his skin, trying to rid himself of the lingering remnants of your touch. Yet, with each stroke of his hand, his mind betrayed him, conjuring vivid images of your bodies entwined, your breath mingling, and your moans filling the air. His cock stiffened against his will, a physical manifestation of his conflicting desires. It throbbed with a relentless ache, begging for attention as if to mock his attempts to resist. He cursed under his breath, the pulsing heat of his member demanding release.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to succumb to the overwhelming urge coursing through him. His hand trailed down his body, fingers wrapping around his hardened length with a firm grip. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a fire in his veins that burned with a fierce intensity. As he stroked himself, the memory of your touch flooded his mind, each stroke of his hand echoing the passion of your night together. He suddenly remembered the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips, the warmth of your breath against his skin, and the way you'd whimpered his name with such fervor.

He stood beneath the hot spray of the shower, his hand wrapped firmly around his throbbing cock. "Fuck," he muttered, cursing under his breath, the memory of your enticing moans and the way you squirmed beneath him flashing through his mind. "Why can't I get you out of my head?"

He gritted his teeth, his movements becoming more urgent as he tried in vain to push thoughts of you from his mind. Attempting to think of other women he'd been with wasn't even doing the trick. The vivid images of the hours prior played like a tantalizing filmstrip, each frame capturing a moment of your shared passion.

"Damn it," he growled, his grip tightening around his shaft as he surrendered to the intoxicating fantasy of you. He could almost feel the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips, the warmth of your breath against his neck.

His hips bucked involuntarily, his rhythm matching the frantic beat of his heart as he lost himself in the vivid recollection. "God, you drive me insane," he hissed, the words escaping his lips in a desperate plea for release.

With each stroke, he could feel the tension building within him, the pleasure threatening to consume him whole. The memory of your moans echoed in his ears, fueling the fire that raged within him. "Fuck," he gasped, his breath growing shallow as he edged closer and closer to his climax.

And then it hit him, a wave of pleasure crashing over him with a force that left him breathless. He cried out, his voice mingling with the soft pattering of the shower as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation around his cockhead. But even as he came down from his high, his body trembling with the aftershocks of release, he couldn't shake the vivid flashes of you within his mind.

He slammed his fist against the tile to the shower. "Damn it, Y/N," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration and desire. "What have you done to me?"

As the morning unfolded, Naoya didn't return to the bedroom after his shower, leaving you to wake up in the late morning to an empty room. You sighed, deciding to put the events of the night behind you and go about your day. After freshening up, you headed to the kitchen for a late breakfast.

The kitchen was a bustling hive of activity, attendants swarming around, preparing ingredients and discussing the upcoming lunch. You grabbed a piece of toast and watched the organized chaos unfold. Swallowing your thoughts about the evening shared with Naoya, you focused on the simple act of eating.

Through one of the open kitchen windows, you caught sight of Naoya out in the garden, engaged in what appeared to be a heated discussion with his father. Curiosity piqued and you set your plate down and moved closer to the window, careful not to draw attention to yourself. From your vantage point, you watched as Naoya argued vehemently, his gestures animated and his expression impassioned. Naobito, on the other hand, remained calm and composed, his responses measured and deliberate. With a mischievous grin, you decided to take your toast with you and head out into the garden. Casually munching on the last bites, you approached Naoya, who was clearly steaming as his father walked away.

"Naoya, darling," you greeted with a teasing lilt, "what's gotten up your ass this fine morning?"

He shot you a venomous glance, his frustration palpable. "Your damn family," he spat out, the words punctuated with his lingering anger. "My father just told me your old man insists on having our pathetic wedding at some damn shrine in Kyoto instead of Tokyo. What the hell is that about?!"

Your eyes narrowed at the disdain in his tone, but you maintained a composed facade. "Kyoto is a beautiful place, Naoya. Maybe your father agrees a shrine there would bring some semblance of sanctity to our union, seeing as I'm living here now thanks to our compromise," you remarked, not missing the opportunity to add a touch of sarcasm.

"Sanctity? In this farce of a marriage? Spare me, Y/N," he scoffed, the mention of the wedding clearly rubbing him the wrong way. "And don't think you can distract me with your sweet words. I know your game."

Your eyebrows arched in feigned innocence. "Game? Naoya, you're imagining things. If you have an issue with the location, take it up with my father. It's his grand idea, not mine."

He glared at you, suspicion lingering in his eyes. "Your father, huh? I wouldn't put it past your scheming family to have some ulterior motive. Maybe he's giving you your window to kill me."

You rolled your eyes at his conspiracy theories, however right he may be. "Naoya, you're being ridiculous. Our families agreed on this arrangement together. There's nothing sinister at play."

He ground his jaw and took a step closer to you, the intensity of his gaze unsettling. "I don't buy it. Your family's hands are tainted. Like I said before, you had a hand in my brother's death."

Your composure wavered for a moment, a flicker of panic masked by a defiant glare. "You know I had nothing to do with that. We've been over this. His death was a terrible tragedy."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, threatening growl. "I'm watching you, Y/N. Don't think I've forgotten who you really are."

You squared your shoulders, meeting his intense gaze with both defiance and exasperation. "Naoya, you're letting your paranoia run wild. This is a simple arrangement, a marriage to strengthen the alliance between our clans. Your brother's death was tragic, but it had nothing to do with me or my family."

He smirked at your defiance, saying nothing as to not start up the never-ending argument of who-killed-who when he knew neither of you would relent. He instead leaned in, brushing some hair from your face, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks involuntarily but you quickly masked it with a defiant glare.

His demeanor had shifted temporarily, a facade of calm settling over him as he changed the subject. "You know, Y/N," he began, his tone low and almost sultry. "Kyoto or not, it doesn't change the fact that once we're married, you should expect nothing from me besides fulfilling the duties expected of a wife. Don't delude yourself into thinking there's anything more because of what transpired last night."

You rolled your eyes at his proclamation, dismissing it with a sarcastic smirk. "Oh, Naoya, how could I ever expect anything more from such a charming and considerate man like yourself?" You retorted, giving a small chuckle as you realized his sudden change of topic had come from him dwelling on your late night adventure.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of your jaw. "Sarcasm suits you, Y/N. But let's not forget our little bet. We made a deal that the one who lasts the longest in this arrangement would emerge victorious. I'll make sure you remember that," he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

You pushed his hand away, maintaining your composure. "I remember, Naoya. But let's not pretend you didn't enjoy it as much as I did."

His lips curled into a smug smile. "Enjoyed it? Maybe. But make no mistake, Y/N, what happened last night won't happen again. It was a momentary lapse, nothing more."

You arched an eyebrow, challenging him. "Afraid of catching feelings, Naoya?"

He scoffed, his arrogance returning in full force. "Feelings are a weakness, Y/N. I'm not one to be swayed by sentiment. Our union is a business arrangement, nothing else. And once we're married, I expect you to perform your duties without unnecessary emotional attachments."

As he spoke, his fingers grazed your arm in a touch that lingered a moment too long, sending a chill down your skin. "I hope you're not harboring any illusions about what this marriage entails," he added with a cruel glint in his eyes. You maintained a steady glare at him, not wanting to feed into his taunts considering your face was flushed. With a dismissive laugh, he stepped back, his tone returning to its usual arrogance. "Don't get too comfortable, Y/N. Our little tryst changes nothing."

You stared at him with anger and disgust bubbling beneath the surface as he continued his taunting. You crossed your arms tightly to your chest as his words cut through you like a knife, each one reminding you of the mistake you'd made in allowing yourself to be vulnerable with him.

But before you could muster any retort, he leaned in closer once again, his breath hot against your neck as he gently grabbed your waist. "You remember last night, don't you, Y/N?" He purred. "How you squirmed beneath me, begging for more. Your sweet, sweet moans echoing out of our room as I made you mine in every way possible." Your fists clenched at your sides, the urge to slap him growing stronger with each word. His face contorted into a sneer as he continued. "You were insatiable, Y/N," he remarked, "writhing and craving my every touch, every kiss, every thrust."

He paused, relishing in the discomfort he knew his words caused you. He was doing this on purpose... "I'll never forget the way you begged for more, how you cried out my name in absolute ecstasy," he continued, his tone oozing with self-satisfaction. "You were like a wanton little whore, desperate for my cock, begging for release." He chuckled pridefully, standing straight and crossing his arms with a smug smirk.

Your jaw clenched at his crude language, the urge to silence him growing stronger still. But he showed no signs of stopping, his ego inflated by the memory of your shared passion. "And when I finally took you, Y/N," he went on, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone, the corners of his smirk quivering, "you were mine completely. Every inch of you belonged to me. Every single moan. Every single gasp. Every single whimper fueled my desire."

His words painted a vivid picture of the night you both shared, a night you wished you could erase from your memory. But as much as you wanted to shut him up, a part of you couldn't deny the twisted fascination in hearing him describe your intimacy in such explicit detail. But as he delved deeper into the details, a tingling sensation began to build at the base of his pelvis, gradually spreading outward as his cock stirred to life beneath the fabric of his hakama. It was a familiar yet unwelcome sensation, one that threatened to shatter his carefully constructed facade of control.

A low groan escaped his lips as he felt his cock stiffen, straining against the confines of his clothing. He cursed inwardly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment and frustration at his body's betrayal even as he continued tightly holding your waist. It was infuriating, humiliating, to be rendered helpless by his own desires in such a manner. He was supposed to be teasing you...but it was clearly backfiring on him. Glancing up, his eyes met yours, and he saw the triumphant glint in your gaze. It was as if you could sense his inner turmoil. Anger flared within him at the realization that you were reveling in his discomfort, in the undeniable evidence of his arousal. It was supposed to be the other way around!

"What are you smirking at?" He snapped, his voice laced with thinly veiled hostility as he sought to deflect attention away form his obvious predicament.

You couldn't help but chuckle as you stared at his erection fully visible under his loose hakama, your grin widening as you continued to relish in his discomfort. "Must be pretty cold out here, or maybe the alcohol played tricks on my vision last night," you remarked teasingly, your gaze lingering on his crotch. "You look smaller now than you did last night."

Naoya's jaw clenched at your taunting words, his frustration reaching a boiling point. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist firmly, his grip bordering on painful as he began to pull you back toward the estate. You couldn't help but continue to smirk at his reaction, finding perverse satisfaction in pushing his buttons -- you were alike in that aspect. You allowed yourself to be dragged along, noting a sense of resignation how you were growing accustomed to his forceful gestures.

As you reached your shared bedroom, he released your wrist with a sharp flick of his hand, his expression dark with anger. "You think you're clever, don't you?" He growled, his voice dripping with venom as he glared at her.

Naoya then moved quickly, forcibly bringing you to your knees by applying rough pressure to your shoulders. You stumbled for a moment, stunned by his sudden aggression. His grip on your wrist was firm, almost bruising, as he towered over you, his expression twisted with rage and desire. You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of both fear and excitement coursing through your veins. With a swift motion, Naoya undid the ties to his hakama, letting them fall to the ground with his boxers, revealing his throbbing, pulsating cock glistening with pre-cum. His chiseled abdomen was partially revealed by his open hakamashita. He sneered at you, his eyes burning with fury and dominance.

"Well, Y/N, do you still think the alcohol was playing tricks on your vision?" He spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "Or do you finally see just how much of a fucking man I am?"

You remained silent, unable to tear your gaze from his cock, trepidation washing over you. Before you could muster a response, he tapped the tip of his cock against your lips with a smirk, his fingers lacing into your hair and pulling tight.

"Come on, Y/N," he taunted, his voice laced with arrogance. "Open up. You know you want it." You felt a surge of defiance rise within you, but Naoya's grip on your head became unyielding as he forced his cock past your lips and deep into your throat.

You gagged and choked as he pushed himself further, the sensation overwhelming and suffocating. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe, the taste of his salty pre-cum filling your mouth. Your hands gripped his thighs, your nails digging into his flesh for dear life as you struggled with your gag reflex.

Naoya hissed in pleasure, his fingers digging into your scalp as he reveled in your discomfort. "That's it, you fucking whore," he growled, his voice thick with arousal. "Take it all, just like the pathetic little slut you are."

You tried to protest, to push him away, but his grip on your head was strong. He thrust his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into your throat, eliciting another gag from you. You didn't even want to think about what would happen should you vomit all over him in the middle of forced oral.

"Fuck...your mouth feels so good," he groaned, his voice tinged with pleasure as he pumped his hips rhythmically, using your mouth for his own gratification. "You like sucking my cock, don't you, you filthy little whore?"

As he continued to thrust his cock into your mouth, a symphony of lewd sounds filled the room, creating a perverse melody of pleasure. The wet, rhythmic slurping of your lips around his shaft mixed with his low, guttural moans. You felt yourself succumbing to his advances, your hands instinctively gripping his thighs again as you willingly moved your head on your own. The harmony of your desperate gasps and muffled moans intertwined with Naoya's primal noises, an explicit exchange of pleasure and submission.

"Mmm...yesss..." he groaned, the sound of satisfaction escaping him. "Suck it, Y/N... You're taking me so well..." He chuckled between moans, lightly patting your cheek with praise while his other hand stayed tangled in the strands of your hair he was pulling.

The wet sounds of your cock-sucking intensified, reaching a crescendo as Naoya's arousal peaked. His groans grew louder, his cock throbbing with an insistent ache as he approached the climax of his pleasure.

"Ugh, that's it!" He grunted, the sounds of his pleasure matching the rhythm of his thrusts. "Ah, hah, ah!" With a final, guttural growl, he reached the pinnacle. The explicit sounds of his orgasm filled the air. His hot seed erupted into your mouth with a sour taste. "Take it!" He commanded, the forceful sound of his voice trembling with the noises of his climax. "Swallow every last drop, you filthy little slut!"

As he released you, you complied obediently, your throat working to swallow down his milky cum. The sound of your swallowing was audible as the thick fluid slid down the back of your throat.

He watched with a smug expression as he adjusted himself back into his pants, tying them tight. He regarded you with satisfaction and contempt. "You're quite the eager little cocksucker, aren't you, Y/N?" He remarked casually. "I must say, I'm impressed. My brother was a lucky man."

Your cheeks burned with humiliation and anger at his taunting words, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. Pushing yourself up from the ground, you straightened your posture, glaring at him intensely.

"Save your praise, Naoya," you retorted with venom in your tone. "You may think you've won some kind of victory here, but don't mistake my compliance for weakness."

Naoya's smirk faltered for just a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he quickly masked it with his usual arrogance. "Is that so? We'll see about that, won't we?"

With that final taunt, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the bitter taste of his presence lingering on your lips. As you watched him leave, a steely determination settled over you, a silent promise to yourself that you would not let him break you, no matter what games he tried to play.

Dates: May 18, 2018 - The drunken night they shared seems to have planted something within Naoya.

[esha-isboogara]

losing face *WIP*

i have a thing for pathetic mfs with mommy issues sooo here’s some syril karin stuff i made bc i can’t help it. idk why i went tf off with this like i never write shit this long i just had a lot to say. i will finish this after work tomorrow i was just so eager to get this out.

@mask-knife-is-ghosts-boo had this idea originally so all creds go to them :))

syril goes to one of the most popular clubs on (planet) to rent one of the girls out.

✰some emotional smut, he’s a stupid stupid man, bottom!syril, he’s a virgin, afab reader, reader is a sex worker

“the girls there are incredible man- you will never find any pussy in the galaxy that tight. i doubt you’ll ever get to try though karn, you’re too uptight for a place like that”.

those words rung in syril’s ears as he walked down the dark street, pulling his hat down to cover his eyes. he had so little reputation left and he’d do anything to hold onto it.

the neon lights of the many store sign’s illuminated the street, shining down on the bustling crowds. he never guessed so many different creatures would be out and about during such an ungodly hour. ‘people have families to feed’. he reminded himself

“hello”. he greeted the person at the window, averting their gaze and opting instead to look at his feet. he couldn’t believe he was doing this

“what can i do for you sir”?

syril knew he’d have to swallow his pride if he was going to get through this. he wasn’t any better than anyone around him. oh how far he’s fallen.

“i’d like to rent out a girl…please”. he grasped his heads together. syril had never felt rock bottom like this.

the person behind the window nodded. “of course! the only girl available right now is y/n“, they pulled up a hologram of you. “we are quite busy at the moment so if she is not to your liking you are welcome to come back a bit later”.

for a brief moment syril was speechless. the hologram before him was displaying the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid eyes on. so much so he couldn’t help but allow his jaw to fall slack.

“sir..”?

he snapped out of his daze and nodded profusely. “oh um..yes yes. she will do just fine”.

——————————————————————————l

making his way through the club was nerve wracking to say the least. hoards of people and aliens from all over the galaxy formed tight circles around the tables and bars seemingly barring him out of their little posse.

syril was close to turning back and leaving. this was becoming too much.

“hi! are you mr. karn”? a feminine voice called out to him. turning his head towards the sound he was greeted by an angel. “you’re a lot cutter than i expected- younger too”.

he felt his chest tighten up at your words. his heart was ponding uncontrollable.

“that’s me”. he cringed at how awkward he was being. it was so obvious how little attention he typically got from woman.

she pressed her body up against his chest, tracing her fingers up his bicep. “it’s very nice to meet you, want to take this away from all these eyes. then the real fun can begin”.

fuck yeah he did. he wanted nothing more actually. he knew she did this with everyone. it was her job for gods sake. but he couldn’t help but feel a little special at her treatment.

“sure”

she took his hand in her smaller ones , leading him down a dingy hallway and through a bunch of beads into a cute room.

it resembled a motel room almost. there was a decent sized bed with a sheen pink drapery around it. the walls were covered in band posters and polaroids who, upon closer inspection, were full of y/n and probably her friends.

she released his hand and quickly started undressing right before his eyes.

syril couldn’t tear his gaze away. never had he seen such a pretty sight- no galactic porn could ever compare.

“why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer”. she giggled, straddling him. “have you never seen a naked girl before”?

this question caused him to seize up. how did she know ? i mean of course he’s seen a naked women but it’s so much different when it’s in person.

“oh..um yeah of course i have. it’s just been a while since i’ve done anything”.

“awww you’re a virgin then ? no need to be ashamed sweetheart i’m honored to be your first time”.

his pants tightened even more at those words. “how did-“.

“it’s always obvious who’s had any and who hasn’t. i can tell you spend way too much time at your job instead of going out for drinks with your friends”.

she wasn’t wrong. not in the least. syril worked many late night coming home in the wee hours of the day only to start the cycle all over again.

reading the look on his face she spoke again. “don’t worry about that now honey, right now i’m going to help you feel goood”.

“ohh fuck”. he groaned. all his problems quickly left his mind replaced only by overwhelming pleasure. he wasn’t sure when y/n had managed to unzip his pants but he was not complaining.

“does that feel good mr.karn”?

he nodded, slack jawed. it didn’t take long for him to get drunk on the feeling.

[mayordebbie]

PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE POST BEFORE FOLLOWING ME!

⚠️DO NOT FOLLOW AND DO NOT INTERACT IF⚠️

• you're racist, anti-feminism, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic, ableist, pedophilic, zoophilic, anti-choice, YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE.

• your icon/header has your nudes/bikini/shirtless in it (no one wants to see that)

• you send unsolicited nudes/bikini/shirtless

• you repost other people's content

• you claim to be a sugar daddy/mommy

Any accounts of that type will be blocked! If you are one of those accounts, please block me. I don't approve of that crud, so please, respect my wishes.

Hi, I'm MayorDebbie, also known as The Queen of Weirdness. Please call me Debbie because that's my first name. I'm a fiction lover. I'm also fictoplatonic. And I'm autistic too.

Fun fact: my brain is made of melting cheese (I'm mentally not alright)

I have multiple rp blogs: @weirdqueenofadlen

@marigoldvictorson

@weird-adlen-queen

Name: Debbie

Gender: Female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: Fictoplatonic, Asexual/Apothisexual, and Greyromantic

Race: Caucasian

Age: 21

Birthdate: January 23, 2003

I'm a girl who prefers more male titles than female titles (Lord, master, sire, prince, dude, sir, maestro, god, ect.) I think the only female titles I prefer is Queen, madame, and Miss but sometimes it varies

If I rp as my original characters/sonas who live in a mansion or castle, y'all know what titles to call me

I don't like being called a woman, I prefer to be called a girl even when I turn 80 years old in the far future

Likes: People who wanna talk about interests and/or rp with me, comfort, friends, fiction, platonic adult x child fanfictions, retro consoles and games

Favorite aesthetics: weirdcore, dreamcore, traumacore, kidcore, nostalgiacore, frutiger aero and it's sub aesthetics, y2k, Skeumorphism, and 1920s, 1940s, 1980s, 1990s, 2000s, early 2010s, Pirate, Medieval, Victorian era, theater, Fanfare aesthetics, Neon, LED, Cyberpunk, Retropunk, Steampunk, Solarpunk, Western, Ramshackle, Hobocore, Nature, Forest, Wildlife, Jungle, Treehouse, Tropical, beach, Spring, Fall, Winter, Creepy, spooky, Wholesome aesthetics, holiday, Christmas, Halloween, birthday, Easter, Leprechaun, Valentines, Wedding, Evilcore, Icecore, goblincore, fairycore, cottagecore, Celtic, Gaelic, and Nordic aesthetics

Favorite games: Minecraft, Garry's mod, Teardown, VRChat, Animal Crossing core games, Tomodachi life, Miitopia, Wii sports (I unfortunately don't play games anymore for some unknown reason. Ever since my depression has increased, I have lost motivation, and now I rely on fictional characters to comfort me. They are all I have left to feel comfort)

Dislikes: Adulthood, Adulting, vegetables, NSFW, and mean people

Fears: Judgment, angry people, triggered people, strict people, and NSFW

Things that make me feel so neurotic that I cry: Judgment, angry people, and triggered people

Despises the most: NSFW

Disorders/disabilities: social anxiety, ADHD, daydreaming disorder, Peter Pan syndrome, Alexithymia, potential BPD and/or bipolar. My vocabulary and spelling aren't the best, and neither are my wording and social skills.

Note: I'm mentally stunted in growth, and I sometimes go through age regression. I also have autism, ADHD, and Alexithymia. I also have narcissistic behavior, so if I start to argue about something, please let me know because I can never realize it. I don't know a lot of things that most people know, including a lot of simple things. I am very passive-aggressive. I was raised in a household where everyone screams threats at each other with misery combined with a lot of anger issues. I probably have BPD and/or bipolar. My brain doesn't function normally. I suffer from the effects of sleep deprivation such as: Memory lapses, impaired moral judgment, cognitive impairment, and irritability. I have noticed that I suffer a great amount of memory lapses. I don't know how severe it is, but it's bad. I am severely neurotic. I have nothing positive to say about myself because I believe that I don't deserve it.

My brain is a mixture of a child and a teenager and a little bit of an adult

My beliefs: Christianity (I'm Questioning, so I might be an Agnostic Atheist, I blame School and my twin sister Avery for this, but I do believe that god and Jesus exist and are real), Anarcha-feminism, anarcha-queer, Black anarchism, Pro-choice, Paranormal, Aliens (I'm questioning about the existence of aliens), and Purgatory

My favorite comedy: memes, Xploshi's videos, Vargskelethor Joel's streams (the ultimate comedy man), cringe comedy, dark comedy, people being stupid, sh*tposts and sarcastic comedy

Fictoplatonic/Fictonplatonic is something I came up with (I hope that someone didn't beat me to it). It means: you love fictional characters platonically.

Update: I recently discovered that someone did beat it to me. I shall give credit to them:

I only do SFW, but I'm ok with blood, violence, angst, and emotional, physical, and neglect abuse fictional content (even when it's based on and/or inspired by real events) You would be surprised at how morbid my mind can be (Even I can feel unpleasant with my own mind sometimes)

Do not make any sexual comments towards me or the characters I made. Comments of that kind make me very uncomfortable.

Very outdated OC Notes: MayorDebbie is the queen of weirdness despite being 7 years old, she travels to multiple fandom universes to find the perfect fictional character(s) to be her parent(s) so she can have the childhood that she always wanted to have

Info:

Name: Debbie Jung

Age: 7

Height: 3ft 9in

Gender: Female

Abilites: multiverse traveler

History: Debbie was the child of abusive parents, one night she made a wish to a shooting star, the next norning she found a magic remote that allows her to escape reality, she first traveled to ADLen (the world that she created in her mind) to make her dream come true as she became The Queen Of Weirdness. But after awhile, she wanted more, she wanted the childhood that she wished for, she wanted fictional characters to be her caretaker(s), so she used the remote to travel to the many universes of fiction to find the perfect caretaker(s) that she deems as worthy.

Magic remote inspired by the one from that one Fairley Odd Parents Movie (I can't remember the entire name of the movie)

Please keep these things in mind; Do not make lewd art of my OCs! Debbie Jung is canonically 7, she is a child, Debbie Young/Pastachan is cannonly 20, and Insanity Mayor Debbie is canonically 30, and I will not allow art of this type.

Do not put them in fetish art

Do not put them in NSFW art

Do not use my OCs for lolicon art

Same goes with fanfiction too:

Do not use my OCs for lemon, smut, lime, or any NSFW literature

Also: I consider tickling as NSFW because if it's a fetish and/or kink, then it belongs in the NSFW category. So tickling is not welcome here either.

Semi-important: I like Hazbin Hotel and Psychocuties. Even though the creators are controversial, it doesn't mean you do not have to like the media. You can always separate the art from the artist. Enjoying/liking their content doesn't mean you're supporting them, but if they change the cannon characters/material to be controversial, then it'll be a good idea to leave the original fandom and make a better, less controversial version of the characters and make a fandom out of it for people who still wanna love the characters without the controversial characteristics and still hate what the creators have done to their cannon characters.

[namelessthirst]

Rave Bunny (teaser)

[A teaser for a larger scale fic I want to do!

Who doesn’t love a confident and slutty Deku, who happens to love you very much?

Izuku Midoriya/Reader

850 words

Dirty talk, judgey strangers, assumptions of sexuality, dominant twinks, brief mention of mommy/daddy kink]

The beat was poppin' and Izuku's feet were hoppin' as he waited on drinks, the club and bar counter were packed, so he wasn't at all surprised that it'd been taking a bit.

 He didn't mind, even if his hips did swing around, taking the fake cotton bunny tail with them, as he itched to get back to dancing.

 He was glad you talked him into wearing something a little higher cut tonight, if he'd pinned the tail on his usual shorts, it would have been weirdly placed.

 Still, he couldn't help but arch his back out against the material, tugging the thong tighter against his hole and hips.

A whistle through the thrum of music wasn't uncommon in his experience, giving the looker a shake of his ass without taking his eyes off the colorful glass bottles of booze lining the bar wall.

 It was nary a beat later when he felt fresh body-heat close in on him.

 "Hey babe, what say you ditch the cheap high," the stranger said with a dismissive flick to the bar tenders, "and come with me for something with a better peak to it?"

 Izuku smirked into his hand where it lay across his face, elbow resting on the slightly tacky counter. Stranger's pet names just really didn't do it for him anymore, huh?

 "No thanks, I'm not just getting these drinks for me."

 When that rejection wasn't the end of the exchange, he shifted his posture up straight, revealing the less than pleased pout on his glitter dusted lips.

 "Aw come on, I bet I can give it to you better than whoever it is that left you waiting here, sweet cheeks."

 Izuku didn't miss the obvious grip the man gave to his clothed cock, a macho stroke to the admittedly thick shaft.

 With a sigh, he turned to the stranger, back and elbows resting on the lacquered counter in a way that rode his crop top enough to give a peek at a pink, supple nipple.

 "Actually, I'm the one usually 'giving it' to her."

 A pair of drinks were set down behind Izuku with a quick call to him from the tender.

 Izuku thanked them and took his to give it and gleeful sip while the man gawked at his claim.

 "Hell no, no fuckin' way you're straight. Not in that getup!"

 The drink soured in Izuku's mouth, a look of irritation painting his face along with the neon lights from the rabbit ear headband atop his curls.

 "Who said I was straight? My doll and I both swing around."

 He was done here, and took his drink and yours off the counter to head towards an open table you both were regulars at.

 Who was this guy to not just assume he was welcomed in his pants, but to decry his looks on the new belief he was straight? Izuku was no fan of denying anyone the right to look damn good, no matter their gender or sexuality.

 His annoyed strut was halted by a too-firm hand on his arm, the sticky sweet drink sloshing all over his wrist.

 "Don't tell me you got mommy issues. Come on, why don't I come give you some daddy issues instead?"

 Just as soft lips opened to tear this bitch a new one, a familiar voice pulled Izuku's attention away.

 "Izzy?"

 Emerald eyes lit up at your approach from the ladies’ room, "Hi babydoll!"

  You stepped into his carefully outstretched arm, drink swishing dangerously close to the lip of the glass.

 His lips were quick and ticklish against your neck, "I was just telling this dummy how much you love to call me mommy! Oooh, though I do love it when you call me daddy too."

 Even with his arm in the grip of a buffoon, Izuku's whole slimly toned 5'5 stature exuded threatening dominance, enough to make the man sweat.

 You were too busy sputtering out weak reprimands about your boyfriend's lewd confessions to notice the tension.

 "Actually doll, why don't we skip out for the night?"

 While you gave him a surprised look, he quickly shoved the drinks into the idle hands of the brute who had finally let go of him.

 "Let's go, yeah?" Izuku leaned into you, taking your hand to lead down the front of his shorts, "I've been letting my curls grow out just like you asked."

 The scruff of it just barely peeked out over the rim of denim, soft and teasing on your fingertips.

 "I wanna feel your sloppy little pussy soak and scratch up on them," he whined into your ear, pressing your fingers just a bit farther to feel the base of his cock twitch with interest.

 He finally let you hand free with a few more kisses to your neck, leading you back toward the door.

 You left with his hand rubbing firm circles into your ass, keeping you distracted while he peered over his shoulder to give the fool the stink-eye and an outstretched coy pink tongue that was sure to be buried deep not too long from now.

[kitanoko]

For a request can you do an Izuocha fic where Deku is oblivious to other girls flirting with him and Ochako gets adorably jealous ? Or a Todomomo where they both have a day off from being Heroes and trying to find something to do.

 Note: Thanks for your ask :) I’ve decided to write both the Izuocha and the Todomomo, but for today, I’m posting your todomomo one first! Hope you enjoy it :) Its my headcanon that Yaoyorozu lost confidence ever since she was in middle school so I wanted to add it into this one. Does anyone play Tekken??

In which Todoroki and Yaoyo spend some time at the Cafe and Yaoyo meets demons from her past

               Sundaysusually mean extra study sessions, supplementary lessons with Aizawa-sensei orstrenuous training outside. Today, a particular Sunday on the first week ofMay, was different. Some of the boys and girls in Class A decided to try outthe newest video game, “Tekken 800”, that wasn’t supposed to come out untilnext month. Yaoyorozu, however, generous as she was, pulled a few strings andasked her dad to get it for them through business connections. Everyone rejoicedand got permission from Aizawa-sensei to let them be homework-free for theweekend.

               Whichbegs the question: could Yaoyorozu create replicas of video games? Perhaps ifshe were to fully understand the makings of the CD, she could forge a perfectcopy of it. Todoroki pondered for quite a while on this particular issue, butwas interrupted when a yell came out of the lobby.

               “I TOLDYOU YOSHIMITSU WAS OP,” Bakugou’s seethed as he violently slammed thecontroller onto the couch, “KIRISHIMA YOU CAN SUCK MY D—“

               “Behave,both of you!” that definitely was Yaoyorozu’s voice, “Kirishima stop provokingBakugou and Bakugou, could you please be gentle with the controller? I don’twant to have to create another one!”

               Todorokismirked inwardly. Yaoyorozu was the big sis of Class A alright.

               Withina minute or two, Yaoyorozu came out amidst all the yelling, and lowered herselfbeside Todoroki at the dining table. She has had enough of the raucous andfound peace in the quiet kitchen as Todoroki closed his textbook.

               “Whatare you doing?” The girl turned and asked, watching as Todoroki tidied up hisspot to leave, “You’re not interested in the video game?”

               “Notreally,” his voice was jaded like always and started heading towards thestairs. Yaoyorozu frowned. Now was a good time to get to know him better. Shepushed herself up, leaning against the glass table.

               “Todoroki,”she mused, and grinned when Todoroki stopped in his tracks, “wanna head overdowntown?”

~~

               That wasway too easy, the girl thought, somewhat sheepishly.

               Yaoyorozushifted her gaze as the two walked side by side down the street, amused andquite frankly, intrigued by their hang out. Just earlier, she suggested a Café thatrecently opened down Mitaka street. Todoroki nodded in agreement, showing moreor less concern as usual and so here they were.

               “NeopolitanCafé,” the boy read off the neon sign, and noticed the exuberantly fancy décor thatwelcomed them as they sat down at an empty table. The server came and greetedthem with water as she notified them of their daily specials. The menus werecasually laid down in front of them, stacked on top of each other. Quickly,Yaoyorozu pushed one of the menus toward the boy, but as she did so, she grazedhis hand slightly, causing her cheeks to glow with a shade of pink. She gaspedat the touch, her inner desires almost laid bare, and focused on his expressionto see what kind of reaction he had.

Yet he had none.

She sighed. She hated to admit itbut the cool guy of the class is frustratingly oblivious.

“Yaoyorozu,” Todoroki didn’t lookup from the menu, “It’s my treat today.” The boy folded the menu back to itsoriginal state, and placed it down. He didn’t expect her to be this happy, butwhen he glanced over, the joy etched on her face said otherwise.  

“Please you don’t have to,” thegirl was flustered beyond belief, “I asked you out…I mean not ask you out…Imean asked you to hang…because it’s a rare day off!”

She embarrassingly chokedher way through that sentence, and hurried to compose herself.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said,getting up from his seat, “You have to order up front right?” The girl nodded,lips tugging upwards into a shy smile.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, “I’llhave the blueberry shortcake then…” She started twirling her hair, feelinguneasy at his sudden affection, and looked down onto the grains of her denimshorts. He fished his wallet out of his front pocket.

“Ah, sure.”

The girl’s eyes followed him as hewalked to the cashier and took note of how charming he was even with just aplain white t-shirt and dark jeans. From afar, she examined his features,probing every detail.

With no doubt, she had fallen forhim, inside and out.

“Hey, aren’t you Yaoyorozu,” afamiliar voice said with distaste and Yaoyorozu stiffened, “You’re at UA now,right?”

The girl turned over, hair flyingacross her line of sight, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Fumie,” the other girl,significantly smaller compared to the first girl, glowered, “Let’s go. Why arewe even talking to her?” The shorter one sounded annoyed and emphasized herwords with such loathe that Yaoyorozu felt frozen in place.

“I bet your rich daddy and mommybought you your place,” Fumie spat out, “You were never talented. You had anuncommon quirk that many were attracted to, and that’s about it.”

Fumie crossed her arms, centeringher rage on Yaoyorozu. The two were her so-called acquaintances from back then,but for as long as Yaoyorozu could remember, they brought nothing but terrorand alienation.

“No…” the creation heroine said,sounding feeble, “I was recommended in…” Fumie scoffed and ran her hand throughher curly brown hair. Yaoyorozu’s past memories flooded her mind at an instant.Afraid of facing them once more, she felt goosebumps rising on her skin and hermind, pounding and aching. She knew her inner demons would appear again, evenif they were supposed to be resolved.

With hands clenched, Yaoyorozushot up from her seat, eyes tearing up.

“I’m not the same as I used tobe,” Yaoyorozu uttered, taking a step towards the two girls who looked liketheir faces had permanent scowls tattooed on them, “I’m not going to listen toyour insults.”

“What did you say?!” Fumiestomped her foot forward and raised her left hand. Grunting, she pulled her palmaway, readying to send Yaoyorozu a slap across the face when a hand snatchedFumie’s wrist.

“What are you doing to Yaoyorozu.”

The three of them looked to theleft, speechless. Todoroki stood there, holding a receipt in one hand and Fumie’sarm in the other. The air around them turned sour and Todoroki forced Fumie’sarm away, the fire in his eyes turbulent. His left eye glowed with a golden hue from the light that shone through the patio,making him look more hostile than necessary. The two girls were taken by surprise, and stumbled a few steps back.

“Todoroki,” Yaoyorozu’s shouldersslumped, clearing her throat to hide her previous emotions “They’re just peopleI met from middle school.”

Her voice eased him a little buthis vexing glare did not waver.

“You mean they were people whopicked on you in middle school.” He corrected her, and instinctively pulledher closer to him by the waist before announcing, “Yaoyorozu has no business with you.Leave.”

Fumie cleared her throat,slightly shaken from his intimidating aura, “Tsk…let’s go.” She mumbled underher breath as she dragged the other girl with her.

“Still attracting pretty boys, I see,Yaoyorozu,” the other girl muttered before striding off. The two girls didn’teven grab their unfinished food, bumping recklessly into the staff as theyrushed out.

Yaoyorozu exhaled, “That was—“

“That was remarkably stupid,”Todoroki cut in with a demanding tone, “You don’t have to be afraid of them. People who are jealousof you are always going to try to pull you down. Listen to yourself. You have thepower to stand up against them.”

Yaoyorozu plopped back down ontothe seat, hands covering her eyes as she laid her head against the table, “Sorry,I was just thinking about the past. When so many people hated me for reasonsthat I didn’t understand.”

Hearing that prompted him to think about his own family, and Todoroki placed a hand lightly onher head. He heard soft sniffles from the girl and his heart wrenched. 

“Don’t relive the past,” he said, tone unfaltering.

He had no idea the kind offeeling he delivered with those simple words.

She lifted her head, thankfulfor the gentle touch that he reserved only for her.