#But gods does he try does this stupid fucker try

[running-in-the-dark]

ah, crap.

I gave up and started watching Almost Paradise. I don't want to like it! but I'm not even a minute in and there's his stupid face and his arms and he's adorable and I hate it (I love it 😭)

and then this: "just boom. heart failure. and trust me, that's worse than penis failure" cool 👍

and now he's been hit in the face by a beach ball 😌 awesome

[gothgoblinbabe]

Love Game

[Logan Howlett x fem!reader]

Warnings: MDNI/18+ use of she/her, female reader, swearing, being referred to as a girl, mention of being a stress eater, mild alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism kinda, jealous!Logan, mild violence, you’re shorter than Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it up), little bit of spitting, sub!logan x kinda dom!reader, voyeurism? Technically?, use of pet names, I believe that’s it but pls lmk if I missed any! ps. you wear a dress in this but if that don't work for you, imagine its a sick ass tux/ fancy attire you're comfy in

Also non cannon compliant because I know Logan is heavy as shit and his body weight would crush you but just for a minute you’re gonna pretend like it wouldn’t

Summary: essentially [this ask] with plot ! // Scott needs to mind his god damn business, but he might’ve done you a favor by snatching your diary and waving it in Logan's face.

Word Count: 8K

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“That fucking kid.”

You groaned, lifting your mattress and checking underneath and round your bed. You knew Scott was going to snatch your diary the moment you’d realized he overheard you tell Ororo where you kept it.  He was always busting your balls the same way he did Logans, even insisting it was a ‘two for one’ deal when he got to bother you at the same time. 

Well, he was really gonna regret messing with you this time.

“Summers! I’m going to wring your goddamn neck! Where is it?”

Your voice boomed through the open halls of the mansion as you barreled down the stairs, feet moving faster than your thoughts. Everything echoed in this place; if he was here, you know he heard you.

“Scott!”

You continued to call his name, stomping around until you locked eyes with him as you entered the kitchen. In his hands - to your abject horror - was your diary, spread open while Logan peeked over his shoulder. 

Truthfully, Scott was a little scared shitless of the consequences of what he’d done. He’d dealt with Logan back and forth, sure, but you? Terrifying. You had just about the same strength as Logan and about five times his rage. That’s why his eyes grew wide when he saw you, snapping the little book shut. 

You could feel your face burning. A diary was private within itself, but there were some things you’d written that were never supposed to be read by another soul; Scott and Logan’s included.

“Fucker,” you grumbled, reaching forward to grab the book from Scott’s hands until Logan snatched it, holding it above your head. 

“Ah, not so fast,” he teased.

You’d gotten into plenty of squabbles with Scott, but he was absolutely going to pay for this. He knew the way you felt about Logan and you swore he got some sick satisfaction out of trying to humiliate you. He only found out because he’d overheard you confiding in Jean late one night in the living room with a pint of ice cream in your hands, yapping while you shoveled Ben and Jerrys into your mouth.

Your eyes flickered between his face and Logan’s. If looks could kill, Scott would have dropped dead the second you walked into the kitchen. 

“Now what is this,” Logan asked with a lilt in his voice as his eyes scanned a page, “a whole paragraph for little ol’ me?”

Shit. 

“I’ll give it back, I promise, but I gotta read this.”

If you tried, you could maybe snatch the thing from his grip before he read too much. You considered jumping on him, piggybacking until he dropped it or handed it over. What lengths would you be willing to go through to keep it a secret anyway? Was it really even a big deal?

You had a crush. Everybody does at some point. A stupid, harmless crush and if this was how he was going to find out, so be it. 

You were still absolutely planning on tearing Scott from limb to limb, though.

“Huh,” Logan clicked his tongue, beginning to read from the pages, “No one knows how to piss me off like Logan.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.

“True,” he commented, “and he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom to do his hair.”

“Also true,” Scott chimed in, becoming the subject of your seething gaze. 

“He’d save so much time if he just let me do it for him - like it would be hard to comb it into two cat ears,” he read, looking up to speak to you, “first of all, I told you they’re not cat ears.”

You simply nodded and rolled your eyes.

“Second of all, you couldn’t master ‘em anyway - I’d have to fix it myself.”

You just scoffed, leaning yourself back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to act nonchalant while you tapped one foot uncontrollably. Everything he’d read so far seemed to be the mundane stuff, nothing incriminating just yet. 

“God, how I wanna…play with his hair,” he read, eyebrow quirked in confusion.

Ah, there it is.

“That’s, uh - it’s really old, I didn’t mean, like - it’s from years ago,” you tried to blabber out an excuse.

“It’s dated - it’s from a couple months ago.”

You pursed your lips, nearly biting through the flesh at the same time from the pressure. You had to get that book out of his hands.

“He’s so stubborn,” Logan continued to read with a smug grin, holding the book high when you jumped to grab it, “I wish someone would just put him in his place.”

“Ooh,” Scott chuckled, looking to you, “are you gonna be the one to do it?”

“Fuck you, Summers - I’m so gonna get you back for this,” you snarled.

“I don’t think it would take too much for him to keep his mouth shut” Logan started to read again.

You instantly recognized the part he was reading and gasped, frantically reaching again for the book. 

“No, no, no, Logan, please - you don’t wanna read th-“

“I’d love to be the one to do it. I wanna take him and -”

He stopped reading and his eyes scanned the rest of the page, his amused smile faltering. You knew exactly what it was he’d read and you wanted to bury yourself alive. You remembered scrawling it down, snickering to yourself as you dragged the gel pen across the paper.

I wanna take him and tie him to my bedpost, probably shove my panties in his mouth and fuck him senseless.That would really shut him up.

Out of all the pages in that goddamn book, that’s the one he had to open up to?

You watched intently as his eyes flashed from yours to the page and then back again.

“What does it say?” Scott questioned, trying to lean over to get a look.

Instead of letting him read it, he snapped it shut and held it out towards you, his face expressionless. Was he mad? Grossed out?

“Don’t worry about it. We shouldn’t be readin’ her private stuff anyway.”

“Uh…,” you hesitated, fingers softly grazing his when you took it back, “thanks.”

You turned on your heel immediately and hastily made your way back to your room. You hoped to hide out there the rest of the day, praying maybe Logan would forget what he’d read or just let it be. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t.

You knew him so well because you were like mirrors of each other; smart mouthed and hot headed. You realized that the first couple months with the X-men, always butting heads with him until one mission where you had to grab the back of his jacket in an attempt to keep him where he was. You tugged with so much force that you nearly knocked him on his ass. Even Hank had never been bold enough to do that, not when Logan was as riled up as could be. From that point on, it was kind of an unspoken assumption that you would always be the one who calmed him down or held him back. So, you did just that; grabbing his wrist with both hands to force him to keep his claws to himself or pushing back against him when he tried to lunge at Scott for something stupid - though, after what he just pulled, you may just let Logan rip him apart next time. Though it was never acknowledged between the two of you, you were his anchor. You held him down when he began to drift away. Fortunately for you, he did the same - using minimal effort to keep you in place when you tried to go for someone’s face or going as far as to hike you over his shoulder and carry you away from the confrontation, all while you kicked and screamed to be let down. 

You avoided him the best you could for two days after the incident in the kitchen, quick comments in passing but never staying long enough for a full conversation out of fear that he’d bring up what he read. What were you supposed to say, anyway? ‘Sorry I thought about fucking you?’

You’d have to think of something because you were face to face in training a few days later. Scott stood to the side of you both, a stopwatch in his hand. 

“Alright, when I say go, whoever pins the other down for more than five seconds wins. Remember, you're each trying to beat your time from the last session.”

Scott’s voice almost sounded underwater. Your eyes were locked with Logan’s and though you wanted to rip your gaze away, you couldn’t.

“Ready? And…go!”

He backed out of the way and you tried to lunge at Logan, quickly being flipped onto your back.

“Okay, ow,” you whispered to yourself, immediately standing back up.

He tried to grab you when you stood but you caught his hand, twisting his arm behind his back to force him to the ground. You straddled his back and kept your weight on him but he was too quick, turning over and pushing you off him.

“Don’t get too excited, now,” he panted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You were caught off by the low cadence of his voice, inadvertently letting your guard down and giving him an opportunity to pin your arms above your head and keep your legs down with the weight of his knee. Scott began to count down and you racked your brain for a way to get yourself out from underneath him. 

You were able to pull one of your legs free, sending him a little off balance and using your leg on the side of his torso to roll him over on his back again. You straddled his waist, using your hands and your forearms to hold his down. That, however, left you nose to nose while panting for air. 

“What, you thought I’d let you win?” You asked, tongue poking at the corner of your open mouth. It was usual for you to tease each other with little snide comments. Nothing any different from the usual, right?

“Nah, I just really like havin’ you on top.”

Nope, definitely different. 

You didn’t even hear Scott call time on your match at first. 

“Hey! Lovebirds! I said you can get off each other. Jesus,” he groaned. You finally remembered where you were and quickly scrambled off of Logan. 

“Aw, really? It was just gettin’ good,” he chuckled. You could feel his eyes on you as you gathered your belongings with your back turned. You tried to step out into the hallway, praying he wouldn’t catch you before you met the elevator doors - of course, you weren’t that lucky.

“Hey, hey - princess, wait up,” you heard him call after you and you stopped, turning on your heel with an irritated expression.

“About the other day, the thing you wrote - “

You sighed, rubbing your face in distress and cutting him off before he could finish.

“Listen, Logan,” you quickly looked around the corridor to make sure you were alone, “I know what you read, I don’t wanna talk about it. It - look, it was some stupid phase where I had a crush and it’s over, okay?”

He tilted his head. You hoped he would simply nod and move on, but you watched his lips curl into a smile instead.

“Aw, what happened - you changed your mind?”

You knew him well enough to understand the look on his face. He was never gonna let this go - in fact, he was probably going to nearly torture you over it. 

“Shut up,” you huffed and continued to walk away, keeping your stare straight ahead.

“Aw, pretty girl -“

You dropped your belongings to the floor with an audible thud and gathered the front of Logan’s t-shirt in your fists, tugging him down to your height so you were face to face. 

“First of all, I told you not to call me that - ‘princess’, ’pretty girl’ - like I’m one of your little girlfriends. Okay, kitty cat?” you scolded through gritted teeth. He hated being called that and you knew it.

His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted in surprise.

“And second of all,” you continued with a deep breath, “you read it, it’s done - leave it be, would you? It doesn’t mean anything.”

You still had his shirt in your tight grip.

“Alright, alright - I’m just teasing,” he admitted, trying to pry your fingers from his t-shirt, “and I’m sorry, I never should’ve been reading it in the first place.” 

You sighed and finally let him go.

“Fine, I forgive you. And you can’t ever tell anyone what you read. Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“So, we’re cool again? Nothings weird?”

“Not unless you make it weird.”

“You were the one flirting with me.”

“Uh - was not. I was simply creating a distraction to throw you off guard and it worked.”

“I’ll get you back.”

“Sure, you will.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You and Logan were in forced proximity hours later, standing with Scott, Jean and Ororo in Charles’ office.

“Do we really have to go?” Logan groaned, hanging his head back in frustration.

You were staring at the thick paper invite atop Charles’ desk. All your names were scrawled in cursive, surrounded by small gold detailing with the event written on top. It was some kind of Gala, something for charity that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing.

“It would be a wonderful opportunity to represent the school, yourselves and the mutant population as a whole,” Charles answered.

“You really think wolvie and his little hothead wrangler are gonna be well behaved enough to not make a scene?” Scott gestured towards you both.

Logan stepped towards him and you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to hold him back. He looked back at you, clearly annoyed.

“We’ll be fine,” you insisted while glaring daggers in Scott’s direction.

You didn’t notice that you were still holding the sleeve of Logan’s jacket when Charles dismissed you. You let go and cleared your throat as you followed him out of the room.

“There's no way in hell I'm wearing a suit,” he grumbled, looking down at his flannel and jeans.

“You don’t wanna play dress up?” You teased.

“And look like a stuck up prick? No.”

“I'm kind of excited to wear something nice for once,” you admitted, “I’ve got a couple nice dresses I’ve never even worn. Besides, maybe there’s gonna be a couple of hot, rich guys there.”

You were looking straight ahead as you walked side by side down the hall, smiling to yourself. If you had turned your head, you would have seen the way Logan rolled his eyes. 

“What, you’re gonna go home with some rich schmuck just ‘cause he’s got money?”

He sounded almost annoyed. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, if he’s good looking, maybe.”

That was only a little truthful. You were not the type of person who was comfortable enough to go back to a stranger's place or hook up with someone you’d never see again. But maybe you could, if it would keep your mind off Logan and convince him to forget about what he’d read a few days ago. And if the guy did have money? It certainly wouldn’t be a problem for you.

“Oh,” Ororo piped up from behind you, stretching out the vowel, “I see - you’re going shopping. Gotta try before you buy, huh?”

She playfully poked your side and you chuckled, swatting her hand away.

“Call it what you want,” you responded, “but I’m gonna have fun, at the very least.”

You would end up having fun - just in a much different way than you expected.

You decided on getting ready for the night in Ororo’s room when the time came a few weeks later. She was touching up her makeup at her vanity while you changed behind the bathroom door. 

“Does it fit?” She asked through the wood with her eyes still on her reflection.

You were attempting to zip the back of your dress with your arm stretched uncomfortably over your shoulder.

“In a way? Kind of.”

Jean entered the room just then, having already gotten ready in her and Scott’s room.

“She’s trying on a dress that’s been in her closet since last year that still had tags,” Ororo explained to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can one of you zip me up, though?” you sighed in defeat and opened the door, “I can’t get it.”

“Woah, mama!” Ororo comically wolf whistled and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

The dress was your favorite out of your collection of unworn clothing; it showed the perfect amount of skin and hugged your figure phenomenally. To top it off, the color complemented your skin in the best way possible.

“I don’t look silly? I feel a little funny getting all dolled up,” you confessed, turning around so Jean could pull your zipper up the rest of the way.

“Definitely not silly,” Jean reassured you but mumbled under her breath after, “Logan’s gonna lose it.”

You turned back around to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Who cares what he thinks? Did I say I care what he thinks? ‘Cause I don’t. Like, at all.”

“Honey,” Ororo began, “we already know you like him, remember?”

You groaned and bent down to look into the mirror on her vanity.

“I don’t - not anymore, at least.”

“Yeah, right,” Jean giggled, “keep telling yourself that.”

Ororo looked at the time on her watch and hastily stood to slip on her shoes, “We’re gonna be late if we don’t leave soon. Logan and Scott are supposed to meet us downstairs.”

You stepped into your shoes and grabbed the little bag you’d carry for the night, following her and Jean out the door. When you finally got to the staircase, you could see Scott and Logan talking to each other at the bottom, the latter of the two standing with his back facing the stairs. 

“All right, ready!” Jean enthusiastically announced. If she hadn’t said anything, the simultaneous clicking of your shoes would’ve announced your presence for you.

Logan turned around to face you. At that moment, he wondered why he ever complained about going in the first place. His eyes were glued to you as you came down the stairs and you could feel yourself start to get warmer. 

He looked so good in a tux, Jesus Christ. You liked when he wore those tight fitting tanks and jeans, sure, but something about the formal attire really did it for you. His cologne wafting into your space when you stood next to him didn’t do much to help dispel any feelings you had, either. How badly you wanted to just forget the stupid event, tug him into your bedroom upstairs and show him that you were so not kidding about what you’d scribbled in your diary. Alas, that was certainly not going to happen.

‘Just an old crush,’ you internally tried to remind yourself, ‘just an old crush - that’s it. I’m not into him anymore.’

Except that you knew damn well it was a lie. 

“We’re gonna be late if we stand here any longer, c’mon,” Scott began walking with Jean while you, Logan and Ororo followed.

“You look nice,” Logan finally spoke as you made it to the door, “think you’ll bag any of those rich guys?”

You almost asked what he was talking about, too lost in thinking about how you actually wanted to bag him and not some stranger.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, “but if I do, you’ll be the last to find out.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Got that right.”

You eventually found yourself in a large, decorated open room, sat in the corner with Logan while he nursed a glass of whiskey and you anxiously scarfed down appetizers. The rest of the team had walked off to mingle - like normal people do.

“Kid, you’re gonna choke if you keep eatin’ that fast,” he warned you.

“ ‘m a stress eater,” you explained with a mouthful of fancy cheese, “besides, you’re a stress drinker. Thank god there’s so many tiny foods.”

He scoffed and took a sip of his drink. 

“What are you even stressed about, anyway? Half your job tonight is to just stand there and look pretty and you’ve already got that down.”

“Thank you, I think?” your eyes nervously scanned the room, “I just hate being in a crowded place, especially one this big that’s full of complete strangers.”

“Why do you think I’m holdin’ a glass right now?” 

Your eyes flickered between his and the half full glass in his hand. You wordlessly took it from his fingers before he even had time to react and downed the contents in one gulp.

“Well, that’s one way to calm your nerves,” he commented, “but if you keep drinkin’ like that, you’re gonna be face first on the ground before the nights even started.”

You were still holding a grimace from the burn of the alcohol but shook your head and cleared your throat, “I just needed the kick in the ass - I’m good.”

“So, you’re gonna go socialize? Good luck,” he raised his eyebrows, “something tells me these people aren’t really who we want to be hanging out with.”

“Why, because they have an immense amount of cash to burn and we don’t? You can’t hate people just because they have money, Logan.”

“Then how am I doin’ it right now?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I think there’s gotta be a few genuinely good people out there who just happen to be rich.”

“Uh-huh, and I think two plus two is five - it doesn’t make me right.”

“You know what? I’m going to prove you wrong,” you said smugly, standing up from the table. 

“I think you’ll prove me right.”

“You wanna bet?”

“It’s a deal.”

“What are we betting, exactly?”

“How ‘bout this - if either of us can find someone here we actually want to go home with, you win. If we don’t, I win.”

“Fine,” you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, “what does the winner get?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “we can figure it out later.”

With that, you both dispersed. You were still feeling uncomfortable but that wasn’t going to go away unless you did something about it. Do you just go up and talk to someone? What do you say?

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind you and you turned around, only to be face to face with a cute guy in a tux.

“Oh, so they come up to you,” you thought immediately.

“Uh, I don’t mean to be forward with you, but you look very beautiful,” he said politely, a charming smile on his face, “I saw you when you walked in and wanted to say something, I just wasn’t sure if you came with someone.”

You took a second to respond, still processing the fact that he even came up to you. 

“Oh, thanks,” you finally replied, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

You tried to use humor to dispel the awkwardness - the type of awkwardness you feel when you get asked to go to a school dance in the seventh grade - but this guy was cute. If you just got to know him a bit, the mild discomfort would probably pass.

“I didn’t come here with anyone, by the way,” you added, “Well, I mean, I did but not in that way - I’m with friends.”

“That’s good to know,” he said, grinning, “in that case, would you wanna dance with me?”

You hadn’t even asked each other your names, and you didn’t really care. 

You nodded and let him take your hand, “I have to warn you, though - I’m no dancer.”

“Well, do I look like one? ‘Cause I’m certainly not, either. But when there’s a beautiful woman in the room that you really wanna talk to, you’ve got to think of a reason to go up and talk to her.”

“I don’t know - I think you just might be a bit of a smooth talker.”

He was and it was definitely working. He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t make me blush.”

He was funny, too. All you had to do was find out a little more about him - for the sake of the bet, yes, but also to determine the probability of breaking his bed frame later if it all went well.

So, you let him rest his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his shoulders. It was kind of nice to have someone so close. You started to feel mildly uncomfortable, though, as if someone was staring at you. You ignored it anyway, deciding it was just the anxiety of being in a place with a lot of people.

Really, it was Logan standing across the room with his stare glued to you two. He looked like he wanted to bore a hole into the poor guy's skull. When you finally caught sight of him, he turned and seemingly disappeared.

You spent a bit of time with your new date, intending to subtilely interrogate him to find out if he fit the criteria for your bet with Logan. Even if he didn’t? You might let him take you home anyway.

You sat with him at an abandoned table, leaning your head on your hand as you half - listened to him talk about stocks. You glanced around the room and spotted Logan again almost immediately. 

He was leaning against the wall with a girl hanging from his arm. She was talking away and he looked completely disinterested. The whole point of coming was to distract yourself from anything to do with him and there you were, ignoring your date to silently seethe at a girl who was only in his vicinity.

You tried to zone back in on the conversation and really pay attention when he started to talk about his job. It was some tech company you’d heard of, a big name in the industry.

“Oh, so, what do you do there?” 

“Well, I own it.”

You squinted and sat up straight.

“You own the company.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded and you raised your eyebrows. This was going much better than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but glance over at Logan to see that girl still standing with him.  She was twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. She was undeniably pretty, so you wondered why he wasn’t even looking at her while she hung all over him.

“Hey, would you wanna dance with me again? I know it’s a little slow paced, but I love this song.”

You returned your attention to the man in front of you and smiled as politely as possible.

“You know what? Sure, why not.”

You let him lead you into the middle of the room and rest his hands on your hips. He pulled you much closer than you’d been standing before, so much so that you were nearly stepping on his shoes. His hands slid down further and you laughed a little to yourself. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you wondered why it didn’t feel like something you wanted at all.

You caught Ororo’s gaze from across the room and she smiled, flashing you a thumbs up. When you caught Logan’s gaze, he was anything but smiling. There was a reason you felt like all this was something you didn’t want - you knew you wished it was him you were standing with. Still, you weren’t sure of why he wouldn’t tear his eyes from you or why he had such a scowl on his face. 

You stopped staring back when your date planted a kiss on your forehead.

“What was that for?”

“Well, I kinda wanted to kiss you but I figured maybe goin’ right for the lips might have been too much.”

“We don’t even know each other's names.”

“Do we have to?”

You thought hard for a moment, wondering if Logan was still watching. It wasn’t fair to kiss someone just to try to make another person jealous, you knew that. He didn’t even have a reason to be jealous.

“You can kiss me.”

He was an alright kisser - nothing exciting. His lips were soft, though, and you liked the smell of his cologne. Before you could deepen the kiss any further, he was tugged backwards and off of you.

Logan had the back of the poor guy's jacket in his fists, nearly yanking him down to the floor with how much force he used.

“Alright, bub,” he grunted, “I think that's enough, she’s leavin’.”

You glared daggers at him with your lips parted in surprise.

“I can leave when I want to,” you said through gritted teeth, “what the hell is your problem?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” your date asked, nervously looking between you both.

“He’s n-” you began to answer and Logan cut you off as he grabbed your arm.

“Yeah. Get lost.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger but could feel your face becoming warm. You weren’t totally sure if you were turning pink from how enraged you were with Logan or from the words that just came out of his mouth.

“Outside. Now,” you demanded, tugging your arm from his grip.

You turned to walk away and he followed as you grumbled to him, holding your dress up a bit so you wouldn’t trip as you stomped out.

‘What the fuck was that?”

He didn’t answer, simply following at your heels with his eyes on the marble floor of the corridor. You swung open the door and stepped into the cool summer evening air, waiting until the door shut behind you to speak again.

“What, you didn’t want me to win the bet?” you guessed with raised eyebrows.

“You’re really gonna let some guy you don’t know shove his tongue in your mouth?”

You stood in stunned silence for a moment.

“Are you kidding? How is that any of your business?”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna let some asshole be all over you just ‘cause he's got money.”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “why do you care?”

“Why don’t you? Seriously, you’d just go home with some guy and fuck him?”

“I don’t - I don’t know,” you stuttered, “maybe, but that was part of that stupid bet! Not that it’s any of your concern!”

You were nearly shouting at each other.

He clicked his tongue and spoke in a sour tone, “none of my concern, sure. I didn’t think you’d actually try and go home with someone -”

“Okay, you know what?” you threw your hands up in frustration, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is or why you’re acting like some jealous boyfriend, but fucking cut it out!”

You were both finally quiet for a moment. The sound of cicadas and crickets songs filled the silence. Logan’s face was pleading, his features highlighted by the soft golden yellow light seeping through the building’s windows.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed over his chest.

You raised your eyebrows, “get what?”

You sounded exasperated, sick of playing what felt like the worst game of twenty questions ever.

Logan brought a hand to his face, scratching at his facial hair - something you recognized as a nervous habit.

“That stupid fuckin’ notebook, the little one you write in,” he groaned, “I just wish I never read it.”

“So, you’re mad about that?” You asked, clearly still confused as to what he was trying to say, “listen, I’m sorry, it wasn’t -“

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” he interrupted, “it’s - fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know, It's like I read that damn thing and lost my mind.”

You waited for him to elaborate, a puzzled expression still plastered on your face.

“It’s all I can think about, all the time - it's like I close my eyes and I can still see it written down in your chicken scratch. I don’t even know what to do, It’s so stupid,” he huffed.

You still didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you or whether he was talking to you or himself.

“And then - I don’t know, alright - you look so…” he groaned with his face in his hands, “I like you - is that enough? Ya’ get it? I liked you for awhile and then Scott had to go peekin’ through shit that wasn’t his and reading that shit you wrote just made it even worse for me. I’m supposed to read that you wanna ‘fuck me senseless’ and just let it go? You thought that wasn’t gonna do something to me?”

You were slack jawed, feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.

He seemed angry, his nostrils flaring while he held a frown.

“So…you -“ 

His hands cupped your face and he leaned down close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.

“So, I want you to fuck me like you said you wanted to.”

Your eyes grew so wide that you feared they might pop out of your head. 

“Would you, if I asked?” He continued in a low voice.

Your stomach erupted in butterflies and you nodded without hesitation. Conversations like this with Logan had only ever happened in your dreams.

His lips finally connecting with yours made your head spin. If he wasn’t tenderly holding your face, you might’ve just let yourself fall to the ground.

“I’ve been thinking about you for months, you know,” he admitted when he pulled away, “watchin’ when you walk away, thinking about how you say my name, wishing I could just tell ya’ - I didn’t have the nerve. Seein’ you with another guy, though - I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I could and I just can't.”

You almost expected to hear the beeping of your alarm clock that would startle you awake in your bedroom. Still, it never came. You could feel his hot breath on your face, the breeze on your skin, the warmth of his hands; it was all too real.

“You mean it? All of it?”

You didn’t know why your voice sounded so desperate, almost pleading with him not to toy with you.

“ ‘course I do. Of course, I mean - god, look at you.”

His mouth was on yours again and you smiled against his lips, your cheeks tinted pink.

“Hey, wait,” you pulled away momentarily, “why did you agree to that bet in the first place, then?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously.

“I kinda figured you wouldn’t be able to find someone good enough, I don’t know - maybe I could convince you to come back with me instead.”

“That was your plan?” you let out a small laugh, smiling so wide that your face began to ache.

“Well, It might’ve worked if you hadn’t met what’s-his-face in there.”

“I don’t know his name,” you shrugged, “didn’t care to ask.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous,” you admitted, “I still like you.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

His expression was as smug as could be.

“That you still like me? Yeah.”

“How? Am I that obvious?”

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper as he put his lips to your ear, “I could smell how wet you’ve been all night.”

You swallowed hard and shivered when his hand slid up your back.

“And it worked, by the way - I’m jealous.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Well,” you affectionately scratched at the hair at the back of his head, “are you gonna do something about it, then?” 

He kissed you with much more fever than before and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth. His hands were in your hair to push you even further into him to the point he was practically hunched over your body. When you finally took a second to catch your breath, you had a realization.

“I won the bet.”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Please tell me you don’t mean you’re actually still gonna go home with that guy.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes and let out an amused scoff, “I meant you, Logan.”

“Me,” he repeated with a beaming smile, “you’re coming home with me.”

You nodded and giggled, absentmindedly fixing the hair hanging in front of his forehead. 

He was staring into your eyes in a way that had you feeling as though there was nothing else around you - no fancy party inside, no responsibility to socialize - just you and Logan in the cool light of the moon. He was studying your face like he’d never see it again if he turned away.

“What if I couldn’t wait till we got home?” He asked quietly. His warm breath just barely grazed your lips.

Your eyes widened and you thought for a moment, looking between him and the door beside you.

“C’mere,” you instructed simply, taking him by his hand and leading him inside to walk down the main hallway. You scanned the area and once you were sure no one would see either of you, you began trying knobs of different doors to see if one would open. When one finally gave, you slipped inside with Logan in toe and flicked on the lights. It was a small dusty office, one that probably hadn’t been used in a few months at the very least.

Neither of you wasted any time in taking advantage of your newfound isolation. Logan was kissing you like he was starving to taste you, working his way down your neck with an open mouth to leave darkening spots slick with his saliva.

“Logan,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily from the way he was nipping and sucking at your skin.

“I love when you say my name,” he admitted, mumbling into your neck. His hands were everywhere - tangled in your hair, resting on your waist, your hips, your ass - he was desperate to keep his hands on you now that he had you. 

You disconnected your lips for a moment so you could hop back to sit up on the top of the desk behind you. You hiked the skirt of your dress above your knees to avoid ripping it and motioned for him to stand between your knees as you held the middle of the skirt down with one hand.

“I’ve got an idea for my reward for winning the bet,” you smiled mischievously, leaning up to hold his chin and force him to look you in the eye, “what do you say, pretty boy? You wanna be part of it?”

He nodded eagerly and the pace of his breathing increased significantly.

“Good,” you leaned back on one hand, using the other to tug at Logan’s suit jacket, “off.”

He obeyed without hesitation and shrugged the garment off his shoulders. He began to untuck his shirt and you stopped him with a gentle touch.

“Did I say to take that off too, sweetheart? I don’t think I did,” you spoke softly in a firm tone.

“No - no, ma’am.”

It drove you crazy to have him under your thumb in that way, his usual domineering nature and dominance melting away by the second. 

“So do as you're told, baby,” you instructed, “if you’re good for me, maybe I’ll reward you back.”

You could see him swallow hard, eyelids nearly fluttering closed when he thought of all the possibilities of what that might entail. 

“F- mhm, fuck,” he stuttered when you brought a hand to the front of his pants and barely grazed the spot below the button with your fingertips. He began to twitch more and more with every touch.

“Are you gonna say yes?” your voice was near taunting, “or do I have to try a little more convincing?”

You popped the button on the front of his pants with ease and slid your hand underneath to feel him over the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Yeah, yes, I - ah, yeah,” he moaned in response, rocking his hips towards your hand and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled and gently kissed his temple.There was something so lovably vulnerable about the way he was acting with you. You knew he’d never let another soul find out that he loved what you did to him - dreaming of you whispering affectionate nicknames and praise as he sloppily pounded into you or spending hours on his sore knees just so he could feel you cum on his face - but the intensity of his devotion bordered otherworldly. 

“Do me a favor, baby,” you started, lifting your hips for a second to drag your panties down your legs, “take out your pretty cock for me.”

He obeyed, tugging his pants down his thighs just enough for his already hard dick to spring up out of the confines of his briefs. You inadvertently licked your lips at the sight, thinking of how heavenly he’d feel in you. He was huge, but for a guy who’s six foot two, it wasn’t a surprise.

He stood expectantly between your legs with his hands on your thighs. You leaned back on both hands, cocking your head to the side as you spoke.

“Touch yourself first and maybe I’ll let you touch me.”

The ‘maybe’ was a bluff. He knew as well as you did that you’d let him touch you regardless.

“Gimme your hand,” you ordered before he could even wrap his fingers around himself. You leaned your mouth over the palm of his hand and spat.

He groaned from the gesture alone, knees nearly buckling when he finally brought his hand down to coat his cock in your saliva.

“Feels good?” You cooed, eyes flickering from his face to his leaking cock in his fist.

“Mm - mhm, yeah, ‘s good,” he panted, “really fucking good.”

You failed an attempt to hide your wide smile, hypnotized by the repeated motion of his hand. He looked so pretty like this - his jaw hung open, chest heaving while his face became more flushed with every passing second. You could feel the rush of heat in your lower stomach just from watching him.

You couldn’t help yourself from leaning forward a little and unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, all while he watched you intently, his breathing becoming heavier the closer your hand came to his.

“Think of you all the time when I do this at home,” he panted, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The compliment made your heart swell; it was a sweet remark that so greatly contrasted the obscene speed of his hand as he stroked himself. 

“You’re such a pretty boy,” you whispered and planted a kiss on his pink cheek, “you look amazing.”

You caught the way the motion of his hand slowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He growled, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t work yourself up so soon, kitty cat, or you’re gonna be finished before I even get to fuck you,” you murmured into his ear and he gasped as you started to pump him.

“Don’t - ah - don’t call me that,” he whimpered.

“Aw, you don’t like it, my pretty kitty?”

He growled again, even more animalistically , but his hips jerking into your hand told you he really didn’t hate that nickname as much as he told you he did.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” you continued to tease, “I know you like it - you love bein’ my big, pretty kitty.”

He groaned, lifting his head from your shoulder and crashing his lips into yours. 

“Sh-shut up,” he managed to grunt.

You immediately withdrew your hand and sat back again.

He whimpered from the loss of contact and looked at you with pleading eyes, silently asking why you stopped.

“I said you had to be good for me, didn’t I?” you asked.

He nodded, eyes traveling from your thighs, up your body and then back down again. 

“Good boys don’t talk back,” you said simply, raising your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I’ll - I’m good, I’ll behave, just please -“

His speech was cut short when you hiked your dress up even further to expose your bare, wet pussy.

“Fucking Christ,” he moaned.

You tugged the top of your dress down to expose your chest and he had to grip the desk you were sitting on so his legs wouldn’t give out from under him. 

“If you can be real quiet,” you pushed some fallen hair out of his face, “I’ll let you cum in me. You want that?”

“Please, ‘v been thinking of that for fucking weeks,” he begged, “please, please, baby.”

He tentatively cupped one of your breasts and you rested your hand atop his, encouraging him to squeeze and knead however he pleased. You spurred him on to the point that he couldn’t resist leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking while his fingers toyed with the other one.

You couldn’t help whining from the sensation of his mouth on you while you combed your fingers through his hair.

He finally detached himself after ravishing your chest in wet kisses and left a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your nipple. You giggled a little to yourself and crashed your lips into his again in a heated mess of tongues and teeth. You scooted your hips up on the table and used your grip on his cock to graze his tip up against you, making him shudder.

“You’re so - fuck, you’re such a fuckin’ tease,” he gasped and held your hips in an iron grip.

“What’d I say about back talk?” you moved the head of his cock further away from you.

He groaned in frustration, moving his hands to hold your face, “Honey, I’m already beggin’ -  please, I need you.”

The desperation in his voice made you even wetter.

“I guess you’ve been pretty good for me - do you think you deserve it?” 

He nodded eagerly and placed his hand over yours that was around him. You let him nudge your hand away to align himself with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he finally began to push himself into you, rocking his hips slowly to help you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. When he fully sheathed himself inside of you, he let out a loud moan that echoed through the small space.

“I told you to be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered into his ear.

“Uh-huh, ‘s a lil’ hard when I’m fuckin’ a girl I’ve been dreamin’  about for months,” he mumbled, working up a steady pace while you wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles at the small of his back to help push him further into you.

“You feel so good, Logan,” you moaned, kissing down his jaw and throat.

He groaned at full volume again.

“Are you gonna stay quiet? or do I have to shut you up? Hm?” you grinned and he made an even louder noise. You reached behind you to find your panties and folded them into a ball, holding his jaw with your other hand.

“Open.”

He obeyed immediately, rolling his eyes into the back of his head when you stuffed them into his open mouth.

“Good kitty.”

He let out a muffled growl and the speed of his hips increased.

“Yeah,” you panted, “I know you like that.”

The angle at which he was fucking you made it so that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of you over and over again, making you gasp each time. Sweat was forming on his neck and down both your chests, practically sticking your skin together in the hot, stuffy room.

“You’re - you’re so pretty,” you told him truthfully, admiring the rosey tint of his face and the drool that was starting to run down from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed and he started to thrust into you hard enough to shake the desk you were sitting on. 

“Easy, kitty cat - you’re gonna break somethin’,” you muttered into the hot skin of his neck with a smug smile on your face.

His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, his hands gripping your ass to push you towards him every time he slammed his hips forward. The fabric of your panties muffled the guttural moan he choked on when you lightly sunk your teeth into his shoulder. He slid his hand between your bodies to bring his thumb to your clit, working tight circles around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with the thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, fuck, I-“ you were speechless, at a loss for words from the brutal combination of the pressure he applied with his fingers and the way he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, still whining and growling like an animal into the fabric of your underwear. You felt the heat in your lower stomach start to build and you buried your face in his shoulder, your mascara smudged under your eyes.

“Logan, Logan, I’m - ah - ‘m gonna come,” you warned, tugging on the back of his hair.

He groaned and yanked the fabric out of his mouth, immediately bringing his lips to yours so he could tenderly make out with you while the squelching sound of your dripping cunt filled the room. 

“C’mon,” he growled into your mouth, “c’mon, baby, please.”

Both your chins were slick with each other's saliva from the frantic way you’d smashed your lips together. Your whining and pleading became louder with every roll of his hips until the sensation sent you over the edge, euphoria blossoming from your lower stomach and spreading all throughout your body.

“Oh my god, Logan,” you nearly yelled, your hands slipping under his open shirt to scratch down his back, “s-so good. I love you.”

The three words slipped out without hesitation and your eyes widened, mild humiliation replacing the fading feeling of your orgasm.

His hips rutted against yours when you spoke and he leaned his face down so he was nose to nose with you.

“Love you so much.”

He kissed you softly with both his hands on your cheeks, so filled with affection that you could’ve cried. He slid his hands down back to your hips and kept his forehead against yours as he continued to drill into you.

“I don’t - I don’t ever wanna see ya’ with anybody else,” he panted, “I needed ya’ so bad. You - ah - ya’ drive me crazy.”

Even after having already came, his pussy-drunk rambling still spawned butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“You’ll never see me with someone else, baby - promise. ‘s always been you. Only ever really wanted you,” you admitted with a soft voice.

His thrusts became sloppy and you could tell that spurring him on with your words would make him finish just as quickly as you did.

“I’m yours, always have been,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about fucking me like this.”

He choked out a sob into your shoulder and came with an animalistic growl, looking down to watch the mess being made all over your inner thighs.

“Love you so fucking much,” he repeated with a sigh, slowly stopping the thrust of his hips and resting his head against yours again.

“I love you, too,” you replied and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Sorry I made such a mess of ya’,” he apologized, spreading your thighs as he pulled out, “I’ll clean ya’ up when we’re home, I swear.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, readjusting your dress and slipping your underwear back on while Logan tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned his shirt.

You caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist as he moved and grabbed his hand so you could see the time.

“Shit! We were supposed to meet everyone back out front ten minutes ago,” you realized aloud, slipping yourself off the desk and pulling your dress down.

He mirrored your haste and let you fix his hair, doing the same for you and wiping away the mascara under your eyes.

“Okay, okay, c’mon,” you insisted, opening the door and slipping out hand in hand. You scurried down the abandoned corridor and all the way to the front exit. When Logan pushed open the door, you were met with Jean, Scott, and Ororo standing with worried expressions.

“What happened to you guys?” Scott asked before Jean nudged him in the arm, pointing towards your intertwined hands.

You looked towards where she was pointing and back up again, “Oh, uh…”

You tried to think of an excuse and looked to Logan beside you for help. 

“Nothin’,” he said in a nonchalant manner, “just got lost around the place - lot’s of rooms in there.”

Ororo raised her eyebrows suspiciously. 

“Sure, and, uh - Is that why you’re holding hands?”

You laughed a little, tugging his hand behind your back.

“Well,” you started, “remember I said I’d try to bag a guy tonight? Um-”

“I’ve been bagged,” Logan interrupted with a huge, smug grin.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that,” you insisted, “but - yeah.”

“Finally,” Jean huffed and rolled her eyes, “I thought we’d have to have an intervention.”

“Huh?” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon,” Ororo laughed, “we all knew you liked each other, even before you did.” 

“And you never said anything?” Logan asked.

“Neither of you ever believed us!”

“True,” you agreed with a shrug and giggle. 

“I believe you now,” he stated, still holding your hand as you all made your way into the night, “She might like me. Just a little bit.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A/N: Thank you so much if you read till the end :) !! I did get stuck with some writers block in the middle of this and I'm not completely fulfilled w it but if I kept working on it it may take another week and my brain can't do it

Still working on requests rn so if you sent one in, I haven't forgotten about you!!! I'm trying to do two at a time so I can keep up (I won't burn myself out dw I usually do nothing all day till I work in the afternoon) <3

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | lava girl!reader, prohero!reader

The moment Pro Hero Dynamight lands on the scene, he knows something’s very wrong. Not only because of the amount of chaos around but also because fuckin’ Deku is down. Literally, face down, whole body trembling in pain due to the beating he just received, and fuck, that’s not a scene Bakugou encounters often.

Dynamight runs towards his hero partner, hand immediately landing on Deku’s back. Yes, he’s breathing, heart beats gallop in his chest –he is alive. Deku moves, raising his head when he feels Bakugou’s touch. The blond sighs relieved.

“Deku… What the fuck happened?!” 

“The villain’s… quirk…” Deku coughs in between words.

He doesn’t have a chance to completely warn Katsuki before an explosion makes them both fly apart. Dynamight swears loudly, barely holding his stance as the blast pulls him away. When the smoke subsides, he opens his eyes and they widen when right in front of him he sees himself.

A carbon copy of Pro Hero Dynamight comes walking, smiling smugly and evil as his cannon shows the residues of the blast.

“THE FUCK??!!” The real Pro Hero exclaims, completely gobsmacked. And angry. How they fucking dare to copy him?? A villain above all!!

“Kacchan… His quirk copies a person and their quirk! Look out!” 

As Deku yells in his way, Bakugou has to dodge another blast, this time intended completely at him. He hisses as his left elbow caught a bit of the fire. Fuck. This villain even copied the amount of power? By the burning pain in his elbow, Bakughou checks off that as a yes.

He shakes the pain off his brain, standing ready this time for another blow from himself. He’s fucking ready to beat some ass –well, kinda like his own ass.

But as again the smoke dissipates, this time is not himself who Katsuki encounters but you.

It's you.

You stand a few meters away in your hero costume. Dynamight frowns, “Y/H/N?? What the hell are you doing here?!” He intends to walk closer to you, but the evil smirk that appears on your face is so out of your character –especially directed towards him– and Deku’s yell again makes Katsuki stop dead in his tracks.

“NO! It’s not her! It’s the villain!”

A bone-chilling laugh leaves your mouth that makes everyone in the scene freeze in worry as lava strings start falling from your hands, and Dynamight gulps. Holy fuck.

For the first time in his career as a pro hero, Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t fucking know what to do. Fuck, he knows the person in front of him is not you but the villain. Yet… SHIT! FUCK! He can’t fucking fire against his wife! He could fight against anyone… Damn it, even if it was Deku or Kirishima or anyone, he could do it. He knows is the villain. But you?? Hell fucking NO.

So, Bakugou ends up doing what he never does, no matter how beaten up he gets. But this is a fuking emergency. 

“I need backup. NOW!” Dynamight barks through his hearing aid, and the whole agency hears loud and clear as everyone moves towards the scene.

In the meantime, Bakugou avoids every whip of lava the villain in the form of your persona throws at him. He dodges smartly –thanking every possible existing god that you bugged him enough into training with you similar to this a while ago; if not, he doubts he would be this agile against this fucking attack. With every attack, he moves further away from where Deku is –alongside some civilians, ‘cause those noisy ass fuckers are always in the way trying to take a damn picture!– and closer to the river. He needs to find a way to get the villain to make some contact with the water. If this piece of shit villain has your quirk now, it would only take a bit of water and they are fucking out.

Dynamight fails to dodge a particular whip that catches his shoulder, making him groan in pain as he falls to his knees.

“You’re pretty stupid if you think I haven’t realized what you’re trying to do,” you laugh mockingly, your lava whips stopping for a moment. “I thought you were smarter than that… baby.”

The way the villain says the nickname in your voice makes Katsuki want to vomit. It’s so… disturbing and ugly. He will definitely have nightmares after this.

Fuck! What the hell does he do now?! He can’t– FUCKING HELL! He feels dizzy, the sole image of you makes him want to puke, because he can’t. He can’t shoot you. It doesn’t matter that it’s a villain, it’s the perfect image of you, his beautiful and loving wife, in front of him. He will cut his own damn hands if he ever has to shoot against any form of you. He can’t– He CAN’T– HE FUCKING CAN’T–

As the villain laughs at his pathetic turmoil and a whip of lava stands high in the air ready to be sent at his kneeling form on the floor and probably cut him in two with the burn, a roar comes from under the ground. 

It’s an intimidating deep sound that makes everything tremble. The sound it’s so profound and raucous, filled with rage and determination that Katsuki feels it in his chest.

The ground between him and the villain starts to collapse, a burning heat and lava coming from down there that makes the villain retreat several meters when a wave of lava lunges against them.

And right there, from the middle, you emerge. 

Katsuki shakes his head suddenly realizing what is going on. Shit, it’s some sort of trance.

“You fucking dare hurt my husband with my own quirk?!” You growl, completely blinded by rage at well– yourself.

Pro Hero Dynamight snorts astonished, his heart beating fast and so fucking in love with you. Fuck, he loves it when you defend him, and he will never get tired of witnessing such a majestic view. Lava dancing around you at your disposal and own will, whole body glowing in red heat that chills his bones at how demonic you look. Fucking beautiful. Beautifully perfect. All his.

You lunge again against the villain, this time yourself included with the lava wave; but as you’re about to approach them, the villain changes form again and it’s Katsuki in front of you. It makes you hesitate in your attack as you stop right on time in front of the villain.

The real Katsuki opens his eyes wide as he finally understands.

The villain probably takes the form of one’s loved one to weaken them, not only attacking with their same quirk, but also sinking their mind into a state of submission that prohibits any counterattack. Shit, that’s a fuckin’ powerful villain. But it is just that. A copy. And it’ll never understand each quirk as the owners themselves. Still though, the use of the quirks are pretty lethal, real. Damn it.

“FUCK, NO!” He screams as the villain in Katsuki’s form smirks evilly, less than a meter in front of you, and his canon fires against you.

Howitzer Impact.

The blast flies you away, completely unexpected and unable to control your own body in your flight. And Katsuki is right there to catch you.

The villain cackles wildly, the smoke around blinding him from the real heroes. He looks so satisfied he could land an attack like that, and to none other than Dynamight’s wife. “How’s wifey, Dynamight? She survived? How would like the titles on the news, mh? ‘Dynamight kills his own wife’ or ‘Poor Dynamight couldn’t save his wife’?” He taunts, the smoke clearing the view of the real Bakugou, one knee on the floor and the other flexed as his entire body covers yours in protection.

He’s looking at you, the blast made your lava retreat completely even from your body as you look now in your normal and delicate human form, the fire has burned your face, right from under your left eye down to the neck. When you flutter your eyes open, you encounter the hateful look he has written all over his face as his eyes roar only one word: KILL.

When Pro Hero Dynamight turns to look at the villain, Deku –who finally got closer to the scene with Pro Hero Shoto holding him up with an arm around his shoulder– swears under his breath. He knows that look.

The villain in Dynamight’s form takes a step back when the real hero stands up slowly, a crazed look in his face as he turns.

“Now, this is fuckin’ personal…”

[yndrgrl]

bullies! kiribaku x reader headcannons <3

headcannons for your azz. fem! reader. soft! yandere, hardcore! fuckers. college! au.

warnings: nsfw, threesome!!, degrading, praise, blackmail, sending pics, possessive, lowkey cnc???

a/n: so i originally had this as a long one shot, but i ended up straying too far away from the actual "bully" trope, so this is just to reel it back & get my thoughts all in one place :) lemme know if i should make this a longer fic !

-

✩ bullies! kiribaku were notorious around campus; if you came across them, know not to look into their eyes, keep your head down, & do whatever they say. those are the rules when you see the duo wandering around.

★ they were shocked when, while bullying one of the pricks that decided to spread rumors about them, you appeared out of nowhere. you shoved bakugo off of the shaking boy & put your body between them & their victim. "what the hell do you think you're doing!?" you shouted at them. you put on your bravest face & puffed out your chest. they've seen you around before, always silently admiring from afar until now.

✩ their first thought was, "how stupid is this chick?" they were -at least- twice your size & could scoop you up with one hand. then they took you in; you were ethereal, like a guardian angel sent from the pearly heaven above. kirishima looked at bakugo, & bakugo glanced at him. kirishima gave him a fang-filled grin. they were nothing more than demons who were feigning for a chance to taint your sweet charm.

★ bakugo, expressionless, responded, "what does it look like? i'm teaching this little asshole a lesson-" you cut him off with your hands clenched in a white-tight fist, "you're pathetic! picking on someone so much smaller than you, have some fuckin' self-respect." god, you were irresistible, they thought.

✩ kirishima, who is nothing but an instigator, snickered & whispered in the blonde's ear, "i think she's the one we have to teach a lesson to, don't you think?"

★ kirishima turned towards you, his grin would've been unnerving given any other circumstance. his sharp teeth were on full display as he teased, "well aren't you a good samaritan? it makes me wonder how far you'll go to stop us."

✩ "i'll do anything! you people make me sick," you shouted at them, & that's when the realization sunk in. shit... you've made a mistake.

★ the guy you were so-desperately trying to defend was just a coward who ran away without looking back. now you were in the hot seat, & your heartbeat was thumping in your ears. it felt like there was a drum in your head. adrenaline was flowing through your veins. you swallowed the lump in your throat. they were just staring at you with their sharp ruby eyes, piercing straight through your facade. "so what now? gonna beat up a girl 'cuz you have nothing better to do?"

✩ everything after that was a blur. you somehow ended up in their shared dorm, your throat fucked by kirishima & your pussy filled with bakugo. tears streamed down your face as you felt a whiplash of emotions all at once. they were such assholes, but, god, you felt so good. while kirishima sang you praises, bakugo gripped you so tightly, spanking your red-flushed ass. "you like that, huh? dumb slut," bakugo growled. he kept thrusting in & out of your dripping hole harshly. you hummed in disagreement, but it only made kirishima fuck your throat more.

★ "aww, bakubro, be nice to her. she's being so good f' us," purred kirishima, it seemed like he was on your side, but the tight grasp he had on your hair told you otherwise.

✩ by hour two, your pussy was still stuffed, this time with kirishima. a mixture of your climax & both mens' cum seeped out of your overstimulated hole. you sat in kirishima's lap, bouncing yourself on his thick cock reverse-cowgirl style. bakugo flooded your mouth with his cum, & he demanded, "don't fuckin' swallow, got it?"

★ he pulled out of your mouth, & you listened. your obedience didn't go unnoticed because, while bakugo went to go fish his phone out of his pants that were on the hardwood floor, kirishima groaned, "so perfect, you know that, don't you? just such a good girl, takin' us so well. you're too pretty for your own good, we're just gonna keep you to ourselves~ you'll be ours, won't you, sweetheart?" you were lost in foggy pleasure, so you nodded your droopy head.

✩ bakugo came back & held your chin. his touch was gentle for the first time. he guided your face to look up at him with your pretty, teary eyes. his phone camera was pointed at you. "open up, angel," he said, stroking your lip with his thumb. he was so soft spoken that it shocked you & kirishima, you felt obligated to listen. he was so sweet all of a sudden. you opened your mouth, his hot, white load dripping onto his wrist. he snapped a picture then told you to swallow & clean him off.

★ "you got him all pussy-whipped, (y/n). can't really blame him though. you're too good~" that night, an arrangement was made. bakugo's gentleness must've run out because, when you went back to your dorm, you received an image from an unknown number, the caption read, "if you know what's good for you, you'll listen to us."

✩ bullies! kiribaku who are so intimidating that they somehow got you, the campus' fire cracker, to not only turn a blind eye to their antics but also do their bidding. what dirt did they have on you, everyone wondered.

★ whatever you did, their other victims were thankful because bullies! kiribaku have left them alone. instead, they now target any man who thinks they can hit on you. a guy at the club is sauntering towards you? kirishima grabs you by the back of the neck, turning your face towards him & captures your pouty lips in a steamy kiss. a man on instagram starts talking dirty to you through dms? all you have to do is tell bakugo, & he sends them a mirror selfie of him sitting on his bed while you're on your knees in front of him.

✩ at some point, everyone knew that you belonged to bullies! kiribaku, but you were just as bad as them. oh? someone's trying to seduce your bullies? not on your watch. they found it so fuckin' sexy the way you'd immediately rush to their side. if a woman tries to feel bakugo's bulging muscles while he's at the gym, you'll be there, marking his neck & glaring at her. kirishima's fan girls are getting too close? you'll sit on his lap & whisper how much you wanna beat them up.

★ "you're not gonna tell anyone about this, right?" kirishima purred, as if everyone was unaware of your guys' relationship. it added to the fun-- sneaking around & pretending like you have no other choice. you were sucking his cock while your skirt was flipped up, your thong down by your ankles. your legs were spread, & bakugo buried his face in your juicy ass. bakugo responded between pants, "'course not, don't be stupid. we got those cute lil pictures of her, she's not gonna do shit."

✩ bullies! kiribaku who will throw you into the nearest janitor's closet & fuck you so hard. their fingers in your mouth to act as a makeshift gag.

★ bullies! kiribaku who are never hesitant to treat you to whatever you want, but they're always so awkward about it. after all, they're not used to having such a graceful angel by their side.

✩ in the end, bullies! kiribaku corrupted you, not that you cared. you loved their nasty teasing, the manhandling, & the secret touching moments shared between all of you.

[icallhimjoey]

no no no no no NO no NO! NO! joe can NOT get away with this! he's gonna deny us our *fun* isn't he? this absolute bastard can NOT think that this is an acceptable way to keep us around! NO!

you know what? you're right. you're so very, very right. Wordcount: 3.3K

---

All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe was wrong.

Joe was wrong, but... he wasn’t stupid, as it turned out.

So that first time, you hadn’t really fully realised what was happening, which – fine. Who could blame you? And you would argue that, the next two times after, it also wasn’t really your fault that you hadn’t caught on...

The fourth time; obvious. You would’ve been an absolute idiot had you not put the pieces together... which, you had, so, you also weren’t stupid.

And also, if it wasn’t for Izzy, maybe it would’ve all clicked into place on the third time.

It was just that... Joe went about it a little too calculated at first, the sneaky fucker. Likely because he was also testing the waters, trying to figure out what he could get away with.

And.

Well.

The answer was: A Lot, Apparently. But again; who could blame you? Joe wasn’t stupid.

Joe wasn’t stupid at all.

When he’d buzzed you up into his flat whilst he was making dinner, you’d barged in with a million things on your mind. All of them extremely negative and ultimately: unimportant.

“I know you’ve not invited me over to just rant at you for ages, but, can I just rant at you for ages?” You dropped your bags right where you were standing.

Joe, spatula and pan in hand, eyes on the food, went, “Ages?”

“Okay, fine. A minute. Can I rant at your for a minute?”

You hadn’t even said hello to each other, priorities elsewhere right now. This shit was on your mind and you needed it off your mind.

Joe’s eyes quickly found his oven timer and he reached for it to set it. To a minute. Because he was a comical genius, you see.

“All right, one minute…. And, go!”

You ignored the stupid joke and just, unleashed. There was some work shit, some small annoying things that had frustrated you throughout the day, but when you got your phone out to read a text thread between you and a childhood friend, you really got into it.

The oven timer went ignored. It beeped, but Joe just silently turned it off and put it to the side. You were in the middle of a sentence and whatever the problem was, this seemed important to you.

He knew it was all petty shit you likely already had all the answers to, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t listen.

Joe tried his best to follow along. Really, he did. But he was also finishing your dinner, peeling potatoes and cutting vegetables, and you were going a hundred miles an hour, straying off the main story every ten seconds to explain whatever was going on better. Which, it didn’t. It only confused Joe more, but he nodded along. Said things like, Oh my god, no way and what the fuck at all the right moments like a good friend would do. Like a good boyfriend would do.

“It’s not my fault we’re not as close as we used to be, she went off and had four children- four, Joe. Four.”

You’d started pacing.

“And then she went, “oh you still living with that girl?” That girl – Izzy, we’re talking my best friend since uni, Izzy. That girl. What the fuck does she think she’s even saying?”

Arms were flying, and Joe silently covered a pan with a lid for fear of your phone landing in it.

“And remember when, like, four years ago, I went to celebrate new year’s with her instead of with our group, just because she’d asked a million times, and she didn’t want to come down to join our party? And then she mixed drinks and got me so drunk, I didn’t even make it until midnight? She’s still holding that over my head, look,” you just kept going, read a text message aloud about maybe trying that again and just doing mocktails so she would actually be able to see the fireworks this time.

You sighed aggressively and turned its back end into a frustrated cry.

“Am I insane? Don’t actually answer that, but… am I insane?”

You stopped pacing to look at Joe, and... you had to take a second to take in what you were seeing.

Joe was stood leaning against the countertop where, behind him, potatoes were sizzling loudly in a frying pan. He had his arms crossed over his stomach, head cocked to the side and he was just… staring at you. Slightly biting into his lip. Smiling, a little. It was a way of looking at you that you could feel within your chest. That made you whole face heat up as you felt how the tops of your cheeks blushed.

Rude.

Had he even been listening at all?

“Be helpful, please. Am I insane?” you asked again, arms flying once more, outraged and in need of a very specific answer.

Joe let his smile grow a little wider and kindly assured you, “You’re not insane.”

He got it right.

“Thank you.” You let your shoulders visibly drop, glad to have heard Joe say what you needed him to say. But then you looked behind him.

“You’re burning the potatoes.”

Joe just kept his eyes on you and said, “I know.”

Didn’t unfold his arms. Just kept his warm eyes on you, that fondly stared a little dreamily.

“Joe,” you scolded, half laughing as you stepped closer to take the pan off the fire, but Joe was faster and turned the hob off just before you could intervene. Then he immediately took advantage of you being closer and used both of his hands to cup your cheeks. To hold you by your jaw, and to tip your head back for him.

Then he gave you that same look again.

Half-lidded, soft, adoring eyes that just stared down at you as he smiled a little.

“What?” you asked, expecting him to lean down for a kiss that didn’t come.

“Not insane.” Joe cooed.

You sensed a but coming.

“But?”

“But…” Joe leant down a little, got a little closer. “But you’re very pretty.”

“But I’m very… Joe, that has nothing to do with–”

Joe cut you off with the kiss you’d been waiting for. Soft lips brushed to yours in a funny position because he caught you in the middle of a word, strong hands holding you in place. You let your fingers wrap around his forearms and attempted to pull away, but Joe wasn’t having it. He used the very brief moment your lips parted to whisper, “So pretty.” into your mouth before he was back on you, arm now curling around the back of you to keep you from leaning back any further.

The kitchen smelled of delicious food, and you’d just spent at least ten minutes pacing around the room whilst tirading about something ultimately so very insignificant, especially to Joe, but the boy was kissing you.

Told you that you weren’t insane.

Said that you were so pretty.

Had cooked you dinner and had let you spew about an old friend trying her best to reconnect without telling you that you were being silly.

You probably were being silly.

Today just hadn’t been the best day.

And written communication had the tendency to change in meaning depending on your mood.

You could read everything again the next day and interpret all of it differently.

You were being silly.

But the boy was kissing you now, and it was just the perfect remedy to a shitty day.

Joe held you in place and kissed you until he felt you sigh into him. Until you gave in, and decided that, yea, sure, Joe could just make out with you in his kitchen for a while if he wanted to.

Joe swallowed the soft sounds you made and softly groaned in return. He loved how he could feel you grow more relaxed under his hands. Loved the way you were pulling him down to you to get more of him. Loved how you started to deny him pulling back, now more desperate for him than he was for you.

When you felt Joe’s hands start to wander down your back and round out over your bum for a squeeze, you managed to break free from Joe just long enough to say, “Should we have dinner first?”

As an answer, Joe bent through his knees a little and you felt how his grip grew stronger as he was about to lift you up. You got your arms around his neck just in time.

“Nah,” Joe murmured into your mouth, hands firmly under your thighs as he encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “Dinner can wait.”

You got walked over to the bed where Joe laid you down and then just lazily kissed you for a bit longer.

Where you sunk into his mattress and tangled up into his sheets whilst dinner out in the kitchen grew cold.

Where roaming hands were heavy and wandering, pulling at the hems of shirts as palms searched for smooth, bare skin to touch.

Where you eventually grew a bit impatient and tried undoing Joe’s trousers with fumbly fingers, not breaking your kissing.

Where you slipped a hand inside and felt how hard he was.

Where Joe pretended to suddenly care about dinner until you got your mouth on him and he let himself fall back into his pillows, eyes fluttering shut.

Where the sun was setting outside, casting the room in soft warm oranges as Joe used careful, gentle hands to get you out of your clothes.

Where Joe wanted to see all of you.

Where Joe wanted to feel all of you.

Where Joe made you laugh when you bit into his shoulder, and panted, “I take it back, what I said earlier. You are insane.”

Where, after a while, when Joe burrowed his face into your neck and didn’t remove it, you knew he was in the homestretch. Mind blank. Just feeling.

And you were right.

It didn’t take long for pants to turn into groans, for rhythmic thrusting to turn into sloppy hip-clashes, and for Joe to tense up all over with a held breath before turning into a boneless collapsed man who felt like all the strength within him had just left through his dick.

It took a while for Joe to return back to earth. He just laid on top of you, face pressed into the crook of your neck, breathing so close to your ear it almost sounded like he was inside of your skull.

When Joe finally did remove his face from being pressed into your neck, there was a spit-string connecting you together still.

“Oh, ew,” you laughed, moving your face away slightly, “That’s disgusting.”

Hovering over you, cheeks flushed and hair messy, you saw how Joe looked at the spot where he’d been drooling all over you, and he grimaced.

“Oh, no, maybe,” he leant onto one elbow to get a hand into the crook there, already laughing. “Maybe don’t,” he started wiping, tried to get a bit of duvet in there which only made you feel how wet it actually was. When you moved a little more to get a look, Joe tried to stop you from seeing the wet patch of saliva he’d left behind.

“No, don’t look! Stop!” he was laughing now, and against his advice, you got a hand in there to feel.

“What the fuck, Joe, you drooled all over– Joe! There’s a fucking puddle!”

For a short moment, Joe acted like a child caught sneaking a snack he wasn’t supposed to have taken from the pantry, very cute yet very guilty. That quickly changed into a more indignant attitude, where he gave you a face for giving him a hard time about enjoying himself.

It was only a bit of spit.

“I’ve cooked you dinner!” Joe exclaimed as he climbed off of you, and he said it like the argument was meant to make your neck less wet somehow.

“Which has absolutely gone cold.”

“Come on,” Joe held out a hand. “I’ll heat it up and we’ll have it outside.”

“How about,” you started, grabbing the hand and letting him pull you up. “You go heat up dinner, I’ll wash your sheets, and, um, shower.”

Joe didn’t let go of the hand he was holding, and pulled at it until you were up on your feet where he was quick to lock his arms behind your back to keep you close.

“How about,” Joe copied your tone to make you laugh, and got his face back into the same crook of your neck where he blew a raspberry to make you squirm. “We both take a shower, and then we get the rest sorted after?”

You’d never taken a shower as long together before. No funny business - just actual washing. Except, Joe would keep kissing you places he would then wash straight after, because you clearly thought his spit was dirty now, so every press of lips got chased by a soapy shower sponge and it took for fucking ever for Joe to stop thinking the bit was hilarious.

To be fair, you hadn’t quite figured out how to not laugh every time he did it, so... partially your fault, you guessed.

But what wasn’t your fault, was how not orgasming hadn’t been weird at all. How that hadn’t consciously crossed your mind once. You’d been distracted with wet sheets and soapy kisses and then after all that, a lovely home cooked meal outside on the balcony where you had it with your hair still wet, dressed in just T-shirts and underwear.

It wasn’t your fault the first time, it wasn’t your fault the second time, and it definitely wasn’t your fault the third time, when Izzy barged in right in the middle of it.

It also wasn’t exactly her fault, though.

All Izzy had done was get home from work.

You were right in the middle of the hallway of your shared flat, pressed up against a wall, half naked, in Joe’s arms.

And then Izzy walked in.

Now… you’d seen Izzy freak out before. But to see two of your friends mid stand-up-fuck in your own hallway after a long day at the office triggered a new form of anger within your flatmate. It didn’t help that, as you were trying to get out of Joe’s grip to rush into your bedroom, that Joe’s hold on you only strengthened.

Izzy was the first to start shouting, and a fraction of a second after her first, “Oh my God!” you and Joe started shouting too.

Izzy was stood in the doorway where she was shielding her eyes, workbag sliding from her shoulder into her elbow, and she was screeching on the top of her lungs, “Oh my God, Oh my GOD, no! No! What the fuck! No!”

Joe shouted, “Leave! Leave!” right into your ear with an unmistakable urgency in his voice whilst the cutting edge left no room for argument.

And then there were panicked screams coming from you, high-pitched words tumbling over each other, all sentences unfinished, half telling Izzy to close the door behind her, half telling Joe to let you go.

Which, he didn’t do.

Joe just held on stronger and used his legs to press you against the wall like he was trying to make the two of you disappear into the brick there, and it hurt.

The chaos lasted maybe four seconds. Five tops. It was all overlapped loud voices, all frantic movements and then… to make an already awful situation even worse… Joe orgasmed.

You shrieked, “Wh– Are you coming? Are you coming right now?” as your eyes nearly bulged out of your head with shocked outrage, hands trying to push at his shoulders whilst your legs tried to find the floor.

It was the worst evening you’d had in a good while.

After everything, you sat on the foot of your bed, hugging your knees and Izzy stood on the threshold of your bedroom, asking what she’d ever done to you for you to decide that having sex in the shared hallway at twenty minutes past six in the evening was a totally normal thing to do be doing.

Joe’d quickly left after. Was out the door in a flash after the world’s most awkward apology ever.

“Sorry Izzy, for, um... yea, for making you see… and, um, hear that.”

“Fuck off Joe.”

“Yea, I’m… sorry, I’ll leave. I’ll see you Friday, yea?”

“I said, fuck off, Joe.”

“So sorry. Sorry.” Joe had paused, and then a single look of Izzy had made him go, “Yea, yea. I’m going.”

He hadn’t even dared to turn around to find you in your bedroom first. He’d just walked straight out and texted you, “Got sent home. Call me in a bit?”

Promises were made of removing clothes behind closed doors from now on – preferably locked doors, please. And if you couldn’t take four more steps to get yourselves into your bedroom first, for the love of God, please, just go over to Joe’s. He’s got a whole place to himself and you could fuck on the doormat for all Izzy cared.

You apologized too.

Said it would never happen again.

And then Izzy said she had to not look at your face for the rest of the night because she kept reliving the visuals, and – fair. That made sense.

You kind of didn’t want to see your own face for a second either.

And there was no way that Joe had planned to deny you an orgasm like this, but... it was real fucking convenient that Izzy always came home from work around the same time each day. It was real fucking convenient that he’d gotten you incredibly worked up with cute little text messages all throughout the day. Real fucking convenient that he walked in with his shirt tucked tightly into his jeans and far too many of the buttons undone for you to be normal about it.

There was no way he’d planned it.

But he’d definitely given the situation a little nudge into the direction it had eventually headed into, and no one could blame you for not having seen it then.

Not yet.

But then the fourth time happened, and Joe’d just edged you all night. Was very open about his teasing. Made you tell him if you were getting close, and then when you did, he’d just… ease off. Pull back. Let you whine and cry for it until he thought you’d pleaded enough for him to be nice again.

He’d gotten you so close.

So, so close.

But not close enough.

And then, when he came and just rolled over after, you knew.

This guy was having sex with you without letting you orgasm.

“You’re sick, you know that? Like an actual sociopath.”

“I’m just following instructions.”

Yea, all right.

Yea.

Fine.

He’d gotten away with it up until now, which, well done, Joey. This idiot really thought he held all the aces, didn’t he? Smug little bastard.

But you know what?

Good.

He could feel that way.

You were going to let him feel that way.

There were loopholes.

Easy ones too.

Joe was wrong, and clueless, and maybe, actually… he was a little stupid, after all.

And you were stubborn. Determined. Persistent.

Dead set on proving yourself right.

Which you were.

You held all the aces.

Not Joe.

Joe was wrong.

You were going to outplay the player at his own thought-up little game, and he would see. Oh, absolutely, he would see.

He’d fucking see.

---

The Taglisted

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add yourself

[edensremains]

sweet treats

summary: adam accidentally falls in love with a barista while disguising himself as a human

from my other account! available as a chatbot ^_^

Adam was out of his element in the fucking human realm.

It’s what being up in Heaven for a billion years ever does to you, especially when you’re the first man to ever bless the goddamn earth.

When Eve was kicked out of Heaven for eating the forbidden fruit, an apple he didn’t wanna fucking eat and told her just as much when she tried to offer it to him too, Adam scored a spot among the elite of Heaven with a new pair of shiny golden wings on his back. Sucks to suck, get fucked.

…It also sucks that paradise is so fucking boring when you’re not killing demonic cunts only once every year. There’s nothing to *do* because every day is a good day, getting shit-faced gets old quick when you can do it every single day and not wake up with any of the consequences. The hell was he supposed to do all the time while waiting for the next extermination?

He knew it was getting bad when even screwing angels was starting to feel like more of a chore than a good time. Honestly, the only time he could really get his kicks was doing it right after an extermination, still high on adrenaline and all the more cocky.

Eve was probably having the goddam time of her life, down there on Earth doing whatever the fuck she wants with humans. They invented all sorts of shit, and bitches were everywhere. God, what he would give to be down there enjoying that shit too.

Wait a minute.

—————————

Sticking it to the man was harder than he thought when it was so easy to go down to the human realm, hiding his angelic features in order to mingle amongst the everyday buzz of people.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to, but maybe that made it all the more better. So he made a routine of sneaking down after wiping his wings and halo clean, and conjuring what he saw human men wore. Shoes were so fucking lame, but he guessed they aren’t exactly able to walk among the clouds just yet.

That is, if any of these fuckers actually get up to the pearly gates, considering how all of them act. Who cares though? Adam loved the bitches that were eager to spread their legs, now they deserved a spot in Heaven more than the bastards he’d occasionally scrap with. So what if he fucked your girlfriend? Why is she at a bar pressing herself all up against him in the first place? He didn’t even have to do shit, they’d invite him over easy and he’d give them a taste of Heaven.

Honestly, it was all great until he royally FUCKED up.

The FIRST man, the original dick, the beginning of EVERYTHING. Fell for a fucking human. How stupid was that shit?

God, he couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw them walking down the street, nearly bumping into him in a rush. He was going to yell at them or some shit, nearly making him lose his next bed-warming target, until he got a glimpse of their face.

It was so over.

He followed them right into the coffee shop with a blank expression, completely mesmerized. They were so, so fucking pretty when they apologized to him. Their voice… The way they looked, the way they fluttered around him trying to get past him taking up the entire tiny ass sidewalk, made him suddenly want to bless the fucking construction worker who poured the minimal ass cement in this busy part of town. Plans to head to the nearest bar forgotten, he followed them into the cozy coffee shop.

And man was it fucking worth it. The fuck ass coffee was good, but he wasn’t here for that when he preferred getting shitfaced and balls-deep in some random slut.

No, he was here for them.

The first time he’d seen them, he was dumbfounded, acting stupid as fuck when he KNEW his worth, this whore would be lucky to get their ass in his bed. But God, and he meant the big man himself, what he wouldn’t give to actually have them in his goddamn bed. He might even consider getting down on his knees to beg if they blue-balled him any longer.

He’d left that night with a fierce determination to fuck the shit out of this random ass barista, he’d look at the name tag next time he was there. This wasn’t fucking running away, it was a strategic retreat. Fuck you.

Today had been a regular day for him since meeting them a couple of months ago. Instead of getting lucky, he’d found himself drawn back to the cafe every week and getting some stupid ass drink so he could watch his favorite barista make it and stare at them the entire time. He’d toss in a few remarks, and found himself forced to actually try and be respectful to some puny ass human that managed to get a chokehold on him.

He didn’t give a fuck if he wasn’t human and that going down to their realm wasn’t allowed, he wanted something and he’d fucking have it.

That being his barista, ‘cuz who the fuck else would it be?

“Gimme the good shit.” He demanded at the counter, a wad of bills clenched in his hand. His bitch looked so fucking fine today, it was practically taking all his strength to not stare at their ass instead of them. Pretty eyes and all, but FUCK. That uniform was doing wonders for them somehow. He didn’t fucking know, but he wanted a piece of it so goddamn bad.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Adam. The ‘good shit’ isn’t exactly a drink.” Their co-worked stifled a groan, clearly they weren’t happy to see his ass here yet again. Despite becoming somewhat of a regular, he didn’t give a shit about any of the other baristas. No, he wasn’t here for them, bland cunts.

“Give me the good shit. I don’t fucking know what it’s called. They know what the hell I’m talking about.” His eyes searched for as he turned his head in their direction, watching them try and juggle multiple cups of coffee on a tray.

“Fuck, whatever! Hey, you!” Their co-worker yelled, startling them enough to nearly drop a tray, some coffee tipping over the mugs and coating the tray with a few droplets before they could steady themself. Adam’s brows furrowed, an irritated feeling bubbling up, directed at the bitch at the counter. Not at his favorite human, *never* at them. God, he’d spoil the shit out of them if he could.

“Get this guy his fucking drink, whatever that is. I’ll get those.” Their co-worker sighed, setting down his notepad and trudging away to pick up their trays on the table.

They simply nodded, undisturbed at being yelled at, as if they were used to it. Adam forcefully shoved down his irritation, feeling pacified at seeing them taking that bastards place at the counter.

“Sup, slu— Sweetcheeks. Gimme the good shit, not a macchiato but the caramel one. The real one is fucking horseshit.” Of course he knows his fucking order, it’s their favorite drink to make. One night, they’d told him just as much, telling him that it was satisfying to watch the espresso sit on top of the milk, separated by the ice perfectly while doing criss-cross patterns with the caramel. He’d listened, then promptly stirred everything together in front of them just to be a little shit.

They’d rolled their eyes and laughed, which made his dick hard and his heart swell. He’d gotten it every time since. One time, they’d served him an actual macchiato and it was fucking horrible without the added syrup and shit. God, he’d nearly spat it out before making them get his usual caramel macchiato with blonde espresso and extra caramel lined on the cup, something they’d given him the first time he’d walked in and asked for a recommendation.

Way too fucking sugary for him, but he drank it all anyways, because his bitch put time and effort into making his goddam drink and he was gonna drink it all.

“Oh, and add in the stupid pastry you served me last time.” He’d added, then paused. “Please, bit—… Please.” He tossed some of his cash into the tip jar, hoping it’d go to them instead of their fuck ass co-workers.

“Coming right up! And you wanted a slice of our coffee cake?” They hummed happily as they took a slice from the display, and served it on a plate. They set it aside before turning their attention back to him. “You can go take a seat and I’ll bring it to you, okay?”

Adam nodded, oddly feeling lighter than he did when he walked in. His eyes lingered on them for a tad longer before he forced himself to walk to his usual spot in the corner, easily sliding into his booth as he pretended not to be looking at them and instead staring at his phone, something he’d gotten a couple weeks into disguising himself as a human.

Obviously his eyes were on them, but he didn’t want them to know that. Fuck, they looked good as hell today. It was sickening how easily he crumbled when it came to them, every interaction between the two just ensnared him further into their try. Witchcraft or some shit, it had to be. He was better than this.

It was always the other way around. He didn’t know what the fuck to do to catch their attention, he was the first man created! Bitches were all over him except this one. It was frustrating, and he’d almost vented to Lite about it before he caught himself.

Right. They don’t know shit about that part of his life.

Here, he was just Adam, the regular who gets the same drink and tries his best to chat them before peak hits and he watches them rush around trying to take orders and make drinks while their co-workers sit on their ass practically.

“There you are!” They set down his drink and the plate of coffee cake as they give him a beaming smile, one that makes his heart start pounding before he grips his hands into fists tightly under the table to calm himself down before he says something stupid.

“Fuck yeah, thanks.” He has a dumb smirk on his face and he knows it as he reaches for his drink, taking a long sip of the sugary beverage, and he suppresses a grimace at how sweet it is. Despite this, he shoots a grin at them. “You always make the best shit.” He tries to glance at their name tag to finish his words off, but like always, the chalk written on it has smeared and it’s unreadable.

“So, got any plans for the weekend or are you going to be here like always, serving coffee to assholes like me?” He tries to sound casual as he leans back in his seat, one eye peering at them for any sort of reaction they might have.

“Just the usual.” They smile, but it looks a tad tired. “Got a long shift, won’t be leaving until dark. The weather is supposed to be nice though, so I hope you get to enjoy it.”

He furrowed his brows slightly, someone like them shouldn’t be staring all cooped up in this shithole of a cafe when they clearly should be enjoying the weather or whatever humans do in their free time, he wouldn’t know. Sucks though, they have taxes and shit to pay for or whatever. Also something he wouldn’t know about, the human world is just filled with a bunch of weird stuff and rules.

“Sucks to suck, I guess. You free after your shift though?”

Nice. Subtle and nonchalant, Adam praised himself internally, a grin on his face.

They furrow their brows. -2 points, fuck. He watches as his barista internally debates something, briefly glancing at his drink before shaking their head. “Nah, I have to get some rest, got an early shift tomorrow morning.”

He can’t tell if they’re being truthful or not, but the sting of some sort of rejection stabs at him, as if he’d even extended any offer or invitation to go out (which he was BUILDING up to!). His grin falters for a moment before he smooths it over, this isn’t a rejection, he didn’t even say anything yet. Mind you, they were probably being honest, even if they won’t look him in the eye and they’re oddly flushed.

“Huh.” He replies unintelligently, not quite sure what else to say to keep them there. He doesn’t want them to go back to work just yet, but he can hear their coworkers shuffling closer, mumbling to each other about his barista ‘slacking’ off as if this place isn’t carried on their back. Fuck their fuck ass co-workers.

“Well, if you’re ever tired of his dump, come find me, yeah? I know a place with killer ribs.” He doesn’t, but they don’t need to know that. He’ll google it or something later. He glances at them out of the corner of his, trying to gauge a reaction to as if his nonchalant bad boy demeanor is working yet.

They let out a small laugh that sounds like the chiming of a bell, and his stomach does a funny flip before they give him a nod. “Will do, Adam. Enjoy your drink, okay?” They reach out and turn his drink around, before swiftly moving onto the next table, beginning to clean off some ungrateful fucks.

He raises a brow at their sudden moving of his cup, but brushes it off. He watches them for a moment more, letting out a small sigh. This human of his doesn’t even know how bad they have him wrapped around their finger. That’s a good thing though, Adam isn’t some simp for them to have on their roster.

He scoffs at the notion, before grabbing his cup and taking a sip, wincing again at all the sugar before his eyes notice a scrawl on the side of his cup.

Pulling it back, he glances at it before choking on the liquid still in his mouth, eyes wide as he frantically coughs, trying to get the drink down the right pipe before they turn their head at him.

A number, neatly written, paints the edge of his cup, and he frantically whips out his phone, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he punches in the digits immediately in his contacts app. He can’t help the dopey expression on his face anymore, eyes honed in on the phones screen.

After, he pumps his fist in the air, not caring about how it looks to the other patrons.

FUCK YEAH, MAN.

[chosoisamalewife]

Loved the Sukuna post. Now... Hear me out...

Bottom Sukuna..

male reader..

some nsfw and sfw hcs

Bottom!Sukuna x Male reader

A/N : ANON I LOVE YOUR BRAIN (the sfw is just more domestic headcanons, I love making big scary mean men domesticated 😁😁😏😏)

A/N : I might have been listening to flesh by Simon Curtis while cooking up the nsfw part

WARNINGS : OOC!Sukuna / Power bottom!Sukuna / Top!reader / a lot of kinky shit / mentions slapping / choking / knife knife / blood play

This man will not show an ounce of submission in public

However remember when I said he loves for you to trace the marks on him. When he is super relaxed a slight pur can be heard. (I HEAD CANON THAT HE PURRS JUST HEAR ME OUT PLEASE. I BEGGING YOU)

However it's not loud and can only be heard when he speaks but you can feel it. Low rumbles in his chest

If you have any hobbies he would act so uninterested but he is full of shit

He would slyly ask about them and take note of them

Only trusts uraume alone with you

Finds everything you watch fucking stupid and boring. He would literally groan anytime you put something on. Would he sit down and watch with you…….yes but will he complain for a bit…..of course he would

Like I said previously he is a pretty good cook but if you are even better than him he would just watch you cook. There is something captivating about you being focused and concentrated. (He will probably get in the mood for some fun 😏)

NSFW

For him to even consider you topping him would take alot of convincing. "You topping me? Do you view me as some type of weakling" He would laugh loudly in your face

Before you get to chance to top him you have to prove to him that you can take him. That you can handle him.

So that means an all night session with him. He will ruin you all night and if you pass then you will get the glorious victory.

Let's just say he was shocked when you succeeded. He tried everything to make you tap out but nothing seem to work.

POWER!BOTTOM

He wants you to FUCK him.

He wants you to treat him like he does you, well at least try to

"Don't go gently with me now. I'm not weak , I can fucking take it"

When you finally gripped his hips and started to pound into him he would let out a manic laugh. It startled you a little bit but you carried on

"There you go fuck me like a strong man"

When he tops you he mostly groans but when you fuck him for the first time he literally growls and grits his teeth

He can not let your hear how good you are making him feel

But you will feel it

Ooooooh lord God help you because he will leave SCRATCHES on your back, anywhere

He will dig his nails into any part of your skin so please have antibiotic ointment on hand. Love watching the blood trickle from were his nails have been. Will lick your blood

DO NOT TEASE HIM OR TIE HIM UP because if you do that just means hell when he tops you again

When I say treat him like he does you, slap him, fuck his throat, overestimate him, choke him, bite him. Everything be ROUGH

AND I MEAN CHOKE HIM, this psychotic mother fucker would smile while his lungs aren’t getting air

Slap his face, thighs, ass everything. He lives for the stings

The only time he would beg you while bottoming is for you to sit on his face or to cum in his throat

Put a knife to his throat as you pound into him, he would think you are the sexiest thing to ever walk the earth

Maybe even cut him a little bit , collect his blood on your fingers and shove them in his mouth 😏😏

CAN LAST ALL NIGHT, you will probably run out of energy before does so could luck

I want to give him the most coma inducing diabolical earth shaking galaxy destroying supernova creating backshots. 🤸‍♂️🤸‍♂️

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

NO WAY IN HELL ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅

| percy jackson x popstar au

| au masterlist ☽

warnings: swearing and i think thats just about it!

a/n: i return from the actual dead guys. live has been hectic as hell recently so im staying up late so i can get the part out to you!! its like 12am when im posting this so delusion is feeding me here

lia and riley crowd around you as you recount for the millionth time what happened at the rooftop party.

they've been at you all week asking what happened - it definitely didn't help when that stupid gossip account posted about it. so now you face the downfall of trying to be a decent human being.

clearly it worked out oh so well and everything is perfectly fine.

you've been drained all week working out a few details for your upcoming shows, going to the gym every day to stay in shape for said shows, dealing with lia and riley, the pile of emails and work related things you should probably answer but haven't gotten around to yet.

honestly all you want to do is curl up into bed and sleep.

a nap would be really good right now.

instead you're stuck here with lia pestering you about the whole rooftop ordeal.

"oh my gosh, we've been over this, as i said the last time you asked - which by the way was," you check your watch. "thirty minutes ago. i said hello, we stood there awkwardly for about six minutes i asked how his day was he said decent, he asked me how my day was, i said decent, i randomly blurted out that the stars were pretty and then proceeded to complain about the party, then said i was going home. end of goddamn fucking story."

riley just laughs at your frustration and lia grins sheepishly at you.

"im sorry, please let me stay here tonight."

shaking your head you get up off the couch to start making dinner. your phone starts blaring as you do and lia picks it up and launches it across the room. "its stacey." she says as you catch it.

"hey, stacey what's up?" you ask your assistant/ agent. she does a lot of shit for you honestly, its hard to keep up with what she does.

"i just got a call from someone on percy jackson's marketing team-" you drop the onion you were holding. "and they want to schedule a meeting with you sometime this week." the silence is loud.

"why?" you croak out

"they want to discuss the rumours going around." fucking finally you hiss internally.

"okay...."

"okay you'll do it? or okay you want to tell them where to shove their discussions?" stacey asks skeptically, having worked with you long enough to know your tones.

sighing you answer her, "okay i'll do it, but i want riley and lia there with me."

"of course," stacey replies likely jotting this down.

"and for the love of god not in a public space."

you hash out some more details and hang up turning to face to very eager eavesdroppers, "what do you want us for?" lia asks.

letting out another sigh, "guess who's meeting us this week?"

☾. ⋅

percyjackson

liked by underovergrover, chris.rodriguez, lukecastellan, the.annabethchase, lia.mandel, rileywest and 923, 872 others

percyjackson i won both games btw

view all comments

underovergrover only cause you cheated!

percyjackson don't be bitter because i won

underovergrover fucker

user1 these little bits of his life only make him more hot oml

user2 i so wanna know if y/n was there

user3 no cause real??? i wanna know if us percy/n shippers have a chance

user4 im in love with him holy

user5 Y/N'S FRIENDS LIKED THE POST AGAIN AHHHHHH

user6 oml i ship them so hard i need to know if they're dating

☾. ⋅

percy was pissed.

ok that's an understatement. he was- is livid.

he had only agreed to this stupid meeting because he managers had suggested to him it might be good to clear the air. what he wasn't expecting was y/n to agree, let alone agree with a list of fucking demands.

and not only did she come with demands she shows up thirty minutes late with her friends in tow.

what. the. fuck?

once she settles in her agent leans froward and addresses percy's team as if y/n is incapable to do so.

"hello there everyone, how are you all doing today?"

percy's manager reply's out of curtesy before getting right down to business. "ok, i'd like to start by introducing myself, y/n i'm lauren i'm percy's manager and i organised this meeting because of the rumours i'm sure you've heard all about."

y/n nods. "yes i've heard of them."

"good because my team and yours have come up with a few ways to deal with the rumours." she place's a her hands on the table and leans forward when she talks. "the first and most obvious is for both of you to post an announcement that you aren't dating, but are simply friends and or acquaintances." you both nod at that. "the second option is to address the rumours via getting into another relationship - but obviously since you're both single right now its a poor decision." she takes a deep breath and flicks her eyes over to y/n's managers. "and the third and mine and stacey's most favoured one is that you.... fake date."

the silence the follows is deafening.

percy practically leaps out of his chair. "what the hell?"

"no fucking way-" y/n says at the same time.

"you've got to be kidding me," you both say at he same time you eyes shooting up to meet, stacey's and lauren's hidden smiles don't help the situation either.

"obviously if you don't feel comfortable doing that we understand," stacey says calmly.

"but if you are okay with that we can move forward with that plan... if that's what you wish for."

percy glares at y/n as she gathers her stuff and mutters "no way in hell am i doing that," before storming off.

her friends... lia? and... riley? stand up after her hastily making apologies, "we'll go.. get her, i'm so sorry about that."

stacey obviously knowing that y/n isn't coming back starts to gather all her stuff. "so sorry about all that," she looks at me and then lauren. "we'll have an answer by the end of the week."

☾. ⋅

yn.official

liked by underovergrover, lia.mandel, rileywest, lukecastellan, maisiehpeters, gracieabrams and 1, 489, 326 others

yn.official life's been good 😊

view all comments

lia.mandel im so excited to for our dinner tmr night!!

user1 mother posted!!!

user2 percy's friends liking this is my roman empire

user3 ikr i need to know if they're dating

user4 ugh seeing y/n happy make me smile

rileywest coffee with you was fun!!

underovergrover new album maybe??

yn.official maybe 🤭

user5 GROVER COMMENTED??? AND Y/N RESPONDED???? THIS IS NOT A DRILL GUYS.

user6 HOLY FUCK!!!!

☾. ⋅

you pace the room, stacey watches you with lia and riley on the couch as the phone dials.

lauren picks up on the third ring. "hello this is lauren smyth speaking."

"hi lauren, its stacey here. i was just ringing about our answer to your offer," she makes one more glance at you before focusing back on the call. "our answer is...."

TAGLIST‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ [if you're name is white it mean i couldn't tag you]

@lauptimist, @itzmeme, @mariaaaaaahhhh, @paankhaleyaar, @maybxlle,

@lara20aral, @cxp1d, @user-3113s-blog, @pleasingregulus,

@avihashearts4lix, @inlovewithmorales, @brokecollegebitch, @user-3113s-blog, @officiallyalbino

@gloryhaddock, @kozumesphone, @moonlightwonderlan, @starxshining, @taintedrosee [if you want to be added just let me know!]

[notsohappynotsosad]

Emperor, Stelmane and Gargauth

Sorry I haven't been posting, I got hyperfixated on this theory. Drawings will resume from now

If you’ve completed the game, there’s a chance you know of the reveal that Emperor’s previous associate, Duke Stelmane, has been in fact his thrall. Upon further inspection you may gain some seemingly contradicting information and lots of questions with no answers. This post will be long, but I promise that at the end, most of these questions will be answered. Also, there are pictures.

TLDR: Emperor and Stelmane used to be besties before he enthralled her, but they couldn't defeat Gargauth with their power of friendship.

So, for the uninitiated, what are these questions?

Firstly, when the party enters Rivington and Dream Visitor is revealed to be the Emperor, he will tell us about his life, including that he was partners with Stelmane, though he doesn’t say anything about the thrall bit of course. At this point neither he nor the party knows the Duke is dead. As far as the Emperor is concerned, what he shared might greatly compromise him and he never shares such information when he simply could’ve concealed it.

If you poke around, other questions may arise, such as why was Stelmane’s condition improving after the Emperor's visits? Why was she asking for him? Why was she excitedly talking about him at the Tavern? Why did they hug? Why was she at Elfsong, where he could find her the most easily? Why did she drink wine, which he used to force her to do? Why didn’t she warn anyone about him? Why was she looking through people before the stroke? Why would the Emperor mind control her? Why does he keep her portrait next to his desk? Is he stupid?

Now that I have you hooked (probably), let's introduce our cast.

Emperor – The one and only, our favorite topic for daily arguments. Sluttiest waist in game.

Duke Belynne Stelmane – Gods’ most perfect princess. We all agree to fuck the Emperor for what he did to her (some of us literally). She used to be a member of the Council of Four[1] as well as leader of Baldur’s Gate branch of Knights of the Shield[2]. Had ties to Hhune patriar family, possibly even related. Low levels of waist sluttiness.

Gargauth – better known as the Hidden Lord, a powerful pit fiend imprisoned in the Shield of the Hidden Lord. His portfolio includes betrayal, cruelty, political corruption and power brokers[3]. The Shield has been kept underneath Baldur’s Gate for over a century, spreading corruption in the city due to his presence alone. Such is his influence, that on the condition he’s taken away from the city, the crime rate might drastically drop[1]. He is known to have been communicating through the Shield with a past leader of the Knights, providing him with valuable information and helping the order grow in power while trying to gain worship[3]. Only some of the Hhune family and the highest rank members of the Knights knew about his existence, though in the present day no one is aware of his infernal identity[2]. Gargauth will try to steer his current owner towards acts of cruelty and domination in hopes of condemning their soul to the Nine Hells[1]. In the “Descent into Avernus” ttrpg one of the baddies wants to use the Shield to drag Baldur’s Gate into Avernus in the same fashion it happened for Elturel, but a party of adventurers takes it away before this evil plan is realized[1]. No information on waist sluttiness due to being imprisoned in a shield.

Now that I established myself as a squid fucker and Stelmane as a leader of a devil-worshipping organization, I know what you’re thinking – I’m gonna say that the Emperor had to enthrall this evil cult leader to save the city. Haha, no. Keep reading. Here, have a meme so I don’t lose your attention.

I must begin by clearing some misconceptions. It’s easy to assume that because of the Stelmane scene, all the Emperor told us about her up to that point was a lie. It wasn’t. They had a functional relationship before the mind control took place. (If you already know this, feel free to skip to the next meme.) There are two notes in the game pointing us to that conclusion: a journal found in Hhune mausoleum commonly attributed to Stelmane and a transcribed conversation heard in Elfsong tavern.

This existence of a past relationship also explains the portrait of Stelmane that the Emperor keeps next to his desk and one of his dialogue options when the PC hugs him in act 2.

Later, in act 3, he also has some lines painting a vague picture of the relationship’s nature.

So she was beginning to trust him before he caused the stroke. This makes things so much more messed up.

There’s still one written document, which doesn’t make sense, namely Patient Log:

This is clearly written after the Emperor took mental possession of her and caused a stroke. Why then does he help her and why does she keep asking for him?

Have you ever gone into the Hhune mausoleum and saw this note?

After giving up on solving the puzzle and looking it up online have you wondered who is “HE”?

It’s Gargauth, the Hidden Lord.

In “Descent into Avernus” module the party may encounter an NPC who is a member of the Knights; she is kept by Vanathampur family as a leverage in case it transpires that Vanathampurs stole the Shield of the Hidden Lord from the Hhune crypt [1] – the very same mausoleum present in game. And it just so happens that the key to this very mausoleum is in the Elfsong Tavern’s Knights of the Shield headquarters, where Stelmane and the Emperor had their rooms.

That’s not all. When you solve the Hhune mausoleum puzzle, a secret wall will open, revealing a small room full of the Knights’ symbols. If the Shield hasn’t been stolen, the Hidden Lord would be revealed too, just like the note says.

And what is that on the table? It’s Stelmane’s journal I was referring to earlier.

Stelmane had access to the Shield. And if she did, the Emperor had too.

(Kudos, if you already know where I’m going with this.) Here’s my proposed order of events.

Stelmane and the Emperor meet. At the time she isn’t yet a Duke nor the leader of the Knights. Like any normal person she’s terrified at first, but unlike any normal person she’s willing to collaborate for the sake of the Knights and her own ambition.

Due to having an illithid ally she quickly climbs ranks of the Knights. She grows to trust him and vice-versa. Things are as good as they can be for a determined politician working her way up in a corrupt organization and a renegade illithid helping with this task.

They finally advance to the seats of power. Stelmane becomes a Duke and leader of the Knights of the Shield. Perhaps thanks to this position or due to Emperor prying into minds of the members, they become aware of the Shield of the Hidden Lord kept in Hhune mausoleum.

They begin speaking with the Shield. Neither of them knows the true identity of the entity within it and the Hidden Lord does everything to keep it that way. His information and advice is always good, so turning to it for guidance becomes a habit.

Gargauth being Gargauth makes every effort to corrupt them; it’s not particularly hard. Keep in mind they’re not good people to begin with. She’s someone willing to collaborate with a mind flayer for the sake of taking over an evil organization and he’s one DC 20 persuasion check away from enslaving the city. The devil causes their worst traits to flare up and pitties them against each other.

This results in a power struggle which culminates in the Emperor dominating Stelmane and causing her seizure.

The Shield gets stolen and soon after taken away from the city.

Without Gargauth’s direct influence they (especially the Emperor) realize the fuckup, but the damage has been done.

They recognize the fiend’s influence in this transgression. Emperor starts treating Stelmane, maybe they try to make their relationship how it once was, though it might not be possible.

Emperor gets taken by Gortash and soon after is sent on the Astral Prism heist. Events of Baldur’s Gate 3 happen.

That’s all! Have a meme!

Here’s an extra bit for the interested.

The see-through people gaze is most likely caused by Gargauth’s influence. And before that Wyll says:

Sounds familiar? And from one letter in the game we can learn that Stelmane has a mansion in the Upper City, where the patriar families such as Hhunes reside[2]. Could she be related to Thione-Hhune?

Huge thanks for reading it all! What do you think? Did Larian originally plan to have this side-story of an aftermath of Gargauth’s corruption?

Sources in order of referencing (sorry, I don’t have a better system)

[1] “Descent into Avernus”: p.162, p.174, p.225, p.5, p.40

[2] “Murder in Baldur’s Gate”: p.36, p.51, p.39

[3] “Lords of Darkness”: p.151 (all the info)

[4rtificialfolio]

Noah - Vest top

Noah Sebastian X Female Reader

genre: smut, a little fluff at the end

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), p in v, slight hair pulling, mirror sex

That goddamn vest stop is where it all started. Your boyfriend, Noah, looks good in anything he wears, but fuck; that goddamn vest top has you practically puddled on the floor. How much he’s been working out lately, how it clings to his body has you weak at the knees.

You’re watching him from the side of the stage, not too out in the open where fans can see you, but enough to have a good view of Noah working the stage. You can’t help but stare; of course you can’t; he’s covered in sweat, his biceps flex every time he moves the mic to his mouth, and you can see how his vest top clings to his body from how sweaty he is. Fuck.

Noah is fully aware of what him wearing that stupid black vest top does to you. He never used to wear one as often as he does, but since the night you practically jumped on him after a show, he made sure to invest in a couple more.

He can see your eyes lingering on him a little too long; the way you look him up and down has the blood rush to his head. Not realising how long you’ve been staring, you’re snapped out of your gaze by the sound of Bryan trying to get past you.

“earth to y/n?”

“oh, sorry Bryan”, you stumble a little as you step aside. Noah notices and smirks in your direction. He can tell you’re already weak for him, and he hasn’t even touched you. God, he can’t wait to touch you.

The way Noah has been acting on stage doesn’t help; the breathy moan when he sings the death of peace of mind, the way he gets on his knees for bad decisions, how he tilts his head back so his neck is on full display for dethrone. The fucker knows precisely what he’s doing, not that you’re complaining.

Before you know it, it’s the set's last song, so you return to the green room before the boys rush off stage. Noah couldn’t get off stage fast enough; as much as he loves to tease you, he needs you just as badly as you do him, and it’s becoming visible with his bulge getting bigger by the minute. Sitting on the green room sofa, all you can think about is Noah fucking you senseless. The thought of having his dick buried deep inside you makes you squeeze your thighs together to gain some friction on your already throbbing cunt. You’re so deep in a trance that you don’t realise he stood right before you, watching you squirm a little with red, flushed cheeks. It isn’t until you feel his knee push your leg slightly that you snap out of your daydream.

“what’s got you so flushed, baby?” He knows full well what you’re thinking about.

Just as you go to speak, he pulls you up from the sofa and into a kiss.

“You know what, never mind”.

Grabbing your hand, he drags you into the room next door.

He swiftly locks the door and pulls you eagerly into a heated kiss.

“Noah” " you moan out as his hands grip the sides of your face.

“god, I need you so fucking bad”, He moans in between kisses. Walking forward, you’re shoved up against the wall, hands gripping your arse and hips. He undoes the zipper to your skirt, and it quickly drops to the floor.

“Please, Noah.” He loves it when you whine for him.

“Please, what, baby? Be a good girl and use your words for me.”

“Please fuck me, do anything. I need you inside me.” He loves how pathetic and needy you sound.

Smirking at your response, he pushes your underwear to the side and drags his middle finger up and down your wet cunt before rubbing circles on your clit.

“so wet for me already,” He moans out, leaving wet kisses down your neck. There’ll definitely be a mark there tomorrow.

“if this is what me wearing a black vest top does to you, I’m never taking it off.”

He pulls his finger away, and you whine in protest at the loss of contact.

“what the fuck, Noa-“Before you can even finish your sentence, he’s on his knees with his head between your legs and leaving kisses up your thighs.

“patience, beautiful.” your hands quickly entangle in his hair as he kisses over your underwear.

“I can’t wait to taste you” In one swift move, he pushes your underwear to the side again, attaching his mouth to your throbbing clit.

“fuck Noah, please” Your hips instinctively buck into his face, and you feel him moan into you.

God, you love how he uses his mouth on you, feeling his tongue flick over your swollen clit repeatedly, the way his lips move against you. All that can be heard is you moaning his name continually, but you couldn’t care less. Noah loves the idea that everyone can hear who you belong to, who’s the one fucking you so well. You’re all his.

Suddenly, you feel him push two fingers inside you, making you moan even louder.

“Fuck baby”

He can’t help but smirk at your response. His finger moves in and out of you steadily, curling ever so slightly as he touches your g spot.

“Noah, please, I’m so close; don’t stop.”

Picking up the pace, he moves his fingers faster and faster, causing you to arch your back against the wall. He removes his mouth to look up at the pretty, fucked out sight in front of him.

“my pretty baby is so close, aren’t you?” he stands up, fingers slowing down a little, but he doesn’t take them out.

“Look at me, y/n, I want to watch you when you cum”

He picks the pace back up, and you can feel the knot tighten in your stomach. Your mouth is gaped open, too fucked out for sound to escape.

“cum for me, baby” Noah leaves a couple of kisses on your neck before looking you in the eyes as you cum on his fingers.

“Think you can take another?”

Not even bothering to answer, you quickly pull his trousers and boxers down before running your hands underneath his tank top.

“Well, I guess that’s my question answered then”.

Before you know it, he’s bending you over the dresser on the other side of the room, legs spread with your ass pressed against Noah’s throbbing cock.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and watch yourself as I fuck you, understand baby?”

“yes, Noah, please just fuck me. I need you.”

Noah grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head up so you can see yourself in the mirror before pushing his dick into your dripping cunt.

“fuck you feel so good, y/n” Not giving you any time to adjust, his hips slam into you, making you yell in pleasure.

“Oh fuck N-Noah”

Using his other hand to grip your hip, he pulls your hips into him as he thrusts in and out of you.

“Look at yourself, baby, all messy just for me. My pretty little slut” Unable to form any words, your moans get louder and louder as he picks up his pace.

He fills you up so well, the tip of his cock pushing against your g spot repeatedly.

It’s your favourite feeling.

It doesn’t take long until you feel that all too familiar knot in the pit of your stomach, and Noah’s thrusts become more eager.

“I’m-“

“I know, baby; you can do it, cum for me again, y/n.”

Bending down, you feel his chest against your back. He removes his hand from your hair and snakes his arm around the front of your stomach so he can rub your clit. Not even 10 seconds later, you clench around him once more before screaming his name as you cum around his cock.

“N-Noah fuck”, You moan out, falling onto the dressing table.

He quickly straightens his back and pulls out of you before giving his swollen, hard cock a few pumps before cumming all over your back and collapsing on top of you.

“Fuck Y/N”

A quiet “Noah” is all you can manage to mutter out. He quickly grabs some tissue to clean the both of you up before pulling you into a tight hug.

His chest feels warm, and you can't help but melt in his arms.

“You did so well, baby.” He gives a long kiss on your head before grabbing your skirt and a blanket.

Without saying a word, he slides his arm underneath your legs, picking you up bridal style and sits on the two-seater sofa in the corner of the room.

The silence is sweet; just cradling in his arms as he gives you gentle, loving kisses.

“God, I love you so much”, he mutters into the side of your neck

Looking up at his pretty brown eyes, you give him a gentle smile and snuggle into his chest.

“I love you too, baby”.

You both stay there for a while, lying in his arms, enjoying the warmth of his chest and hearing his steady heartbeat. This isn’t where you expected to end tonight, but neither of you are complaining.

That goddamn vest top.

-

masterlist

[bigbadvoxbox]

I love the idea of vox x Fem reader aftercare, I picture hes the type to just smoke smth and not care but I'd like to see your take on it! also can we get some vox x Fem reader imagines (I wanna know what hes like in bed ykiwmm 🥰🥰🤭) if u cant then its fine! have an amazing day/nightt

i like the way u think, also imagines/headcanons are shorter and less detailed so i can bang those out rn lets fucking go!

- Aftercare: Vox would probably look up different aftercare methods online. He'd be pretty awkward about the whole thing but kinda just make sure you feel okay afterwards and tell you that you did good, and like make sure if anything's hurting that he helps soothe it, then would probably offer to take you out for coffee or something afterwards. He likes being perceived positively and likes attention so obvs would try to leave a good impression.

- In bed? Oof. Lemme tell you, LOOOTS of jealous/frustrated sex. The man is constantly just so irritated about everything (even more so once Alastor is back in town) and is very often in need of stress relief, so you become his favourite stress toy <3

- the constant one-upping of Alastor even shows in bed, like he's just frustrated rambling while he's fucking you to pieces "That pretentious fucker thinks he's so much better than me? But he doesn't have a pretty girl on his cock, does he? No, he fucking doesn't."

- Valentino (trash man) tries to hit on you (because he just goes after anything with a hole, fuck you valentino i hate you) and Vox is NOT having it. He usually keeps bedroom activities in private but he will make an exception this time. Won't go the full length but will definitely make a point. He plays it off with a smirk but inside he is RAGING. "I think she's pretty satisfied with me, already, Val." before he gets a little bit of a "don't fuck with me" look in his eyes "Don't be fucking greedy, Valentino." (cus Val already has lots of employees he can fuck so he should back tf up)

- He sometimes starts to overheat and/or glitch out when he gets overwhelmed (in a good way) during sex and his movements start to get erratic and wild

- He's pretty spontaneous when it comes to sex, especially when it's fuelled by stress and frustration cause he'll just find you, take you to the nearest bathroom or wherever you can have privacy and just have some very needed stress relief sex (both a blessing and a curse cus god the sex is good when he's pissed off, but it's so frequent your legs feel like hell)

- both degradation and praise are strong suits for him. like- you're a whore, but you're HIS pretty whore. you're suuuch a good fucking girl for him, and he makes sure you know that, but will also tease you for how much of a mess you become on his dick. big ego thing for him when you're very clearly enjoying it so he likes when you praise him too (not in a submissive "good boy" way but like when you tell him he's the best and stuff like that)

"If I hear that fossil's stupid fucking radio voice one more time I swear I'll-" Vox lets out a groan of frustration through gritted teeth as his hips pick up speed, his grip on your hips only ever tightening as he fucks you so hard your head starts to spin. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders, almost folding you in half on top of his desk, while he fucks into you like he'd die if he faltered for even a single second. He likes this position the most, likes seeing your face, likes seeing how you fucking fall apart for him, for his cock.

"Atta girl. You're gonna take everything I give you, yeah? That's a good girl. Thaaat's a good. Fucking. Slut."

[onepiece-polls]

One Piece Shipping War - Bonus Poll!

The winner of the poly ship bracket vs the most popular (and honestly, only) Buggy ship of the duo bracket!

Propaganda under the cut. [contains some spoilers]

Propaganda for Cross Guild:

Idk there's something about three people who hate each other that just works.

they don't need no propaganda. I could never make propaganda like buggy the clown does in canon

mr. pathetic (buggy) paired with two actual warlords who could (but haven't !) demolished him ? it has to be love

Crocodile and Mihawk are a fucked up rich ass couple and Buggy is the chihuahua in their purse

CROSSGUILDCROSSGUILD XXX

Its cross guild. you know why (mod: as an anime-only fan, I don't, but I'm looking forward to find out 😂)

Propaganda for Shanks x Buggy:

What if we were childhood friends who gave up our drama for each other then never saw each other again for years

What can I say, I'm a fellow shuggy truther too 🤝

Shanks obviously adores Buggy, and Buggy is so tsundure~! Mr 'I hate Shanks'-but-will-take-every-opportunity-to-talk-about-him-and-be-with-him.

Oden says in his journal that he can't tell if they're friends of enemies, and I just love that. Plus when you add in the revelation about Shanks and Buggy in the recent chapters.

They're childhood friends. They're exes. They've been married for 20 years. They're opposites. They're the same. They're silly goofy guys who make me want to cry my heart out. Red/Blue is always meant to be.

Buggy """""HATES""""" Shanks. This hate is so strong that he WILL yell at this red-haired bastard despite the fact that he is a coward, who is terrified of all the Emperors. Everyone thinks this is strange. However, when you grow up with said Emperor on the same boat, watching him stumble over his feet as he's trying to learn to use a sword, stuck scrubbing the whole deck because he was stupid enough to prank "Dark King" Rayleigh, and make that same stupid pouty face every time his Conqueror's Haki doesn't do anything because he is an itty bitty child, most of that fear gets pretty quelled. Also, that same fucker lost an arm because he's a DUMBASS and he deserves to be made fun of for it (not because Buggy is worried and missed him not at all no no Shanks is just DUMB and needs to be TOLD he is dumb more. But just by Buggy. Because Buggy has known his idiocy forever. He has earned the right to yell at this stupid, stupid Emperor for being a self-sacrificing fool and for giving away that stupid hat and... Wait, hang on, when did this bastard get hot!? WHAT THE FUC-) And Shanks just keeps smiling at Buggy and his antics because he has 100% been in love with him since they were children (his actions while they were on the Roger pirates are the DEFINITION of pigtail-pulling as flirting) and he is just happy to see that he's safe while being exactly the same larger-than-life clown he always knew. He would gladly give up his life of sluttery (that I am convinced this man has. Just look at how he exists) if Buggy would just agree to join his crew, but will not push him if he doesn't want to. He just loves his pretty clown from a distance and waits. TLDR: Buggy is mad that he's in love with Shanks and Shanks just likes existing with and/or annoying Buggy (they come as a pair). GOD I just love childhood friends to lovers bro. Just let the cabin boys kiss.

[Spoiler Warning] Red and Blue gays! Emperor husbands! Childhood friends to enemies to lovers!

[acediaedeus]

I just know coming off of the battle high after a spar with Ichigo makes Grimmjow a little bit dumb, and he’s suddenly all loose, and relaxed. a cat readying for a nap after eating a mouse it caught for lunch.

so obviously this state of his leads to some interesting revelations. because the first time Ichigo witnesses this abrupt relaxation he immediately goes into panic mode, and hurries over to check on Grimmjow. but all Ichigo gets when he grasps his forearm to pull the fucker up and get him into the healing spring, is a half-lidded look full of reverence and satisfaction, which hits him like a freight train, and makes him go dumb too. because, sure, he’s witnessed his fair share of Grimmjow’s satisfied looks. but all of them were marred by blood splattered across Grimmjow’s everything, coating his sword, his hands, a lot of the times his teeth (asshole loves taking a bite out of him), they were pure battle and blood thirstiness. this? this is wholly uncharted territory. it’s soft, and contented, and all around nothing like what Grimmjow is. and then it hits Ichigo that maybe he doesn’t know what Grimmjow is like at all. and then, for the first time in his life, he finds himself jealous, of all things. because there definitely someone that does know this side of his favourite Arrancar (there isn’t).

also, let it not be forgotten, that Ichigo’s kind of an idiot, at least when it comes to things that aren’t beating up thugs and gods, or Shakespearean tragedies and dramas. so it should be no surprise that this also happens to him. that just like Grimmjow, he too, becomes just a tiny but dumber. but instead of a cat that got the mouse, he’s more akin to a lizard basking on a sun-warmed rock.

revelations come from this too. and although at the start of their arrangement Grimmjow isn’t even close to being so nice as to help the asshole up, and make sure he’s fine, that doesn’t stop Ichigo from propping himself up on his elbows and beaming an absolutely blinding smile at Grimmjow, before passing the fuck out. and because Grimmjow is still unsure of what’s to happen now, and also not at all accustomed or prepared for human interaction, he thinks the bastard’s good will ran out already, and this is some pathetic last resort attack on his senses. but Kurosaki’s not moving, very obviously sleeping (and isn’t that an insane power move? “hey look, I’m so sure you’re not anywhere near my level, that I’m going to sleep right in front of you, my enemy.” downright mocking, how dare he). he opens a Garganta, and ditches as fast as his sonído will allow, before his brain even starts trying to find any other explanations as to what THAT was. he tries not to think about it, and swears to, from now on, leave before Kurosaki attempts any bullshit.

but the next time it happens some stupid curiosity wins out, and he stays, and he watches as the Shinigami does the whole routine all over again, and… Grimmjow suddenly can’t breathe, can’t take his wide (surely from fear) eyes off of Kurosaki’s prone figure, his face bursts into flames, his mouth runs dry, and that useless dead heart in his chest beats out of rhythm. whatever he’s doing, whatever that attack is, it’s working, and Grimmjow better get away fast.

later, much later, Grimmjow will realise that the reaction he, at first, classified as a symptom of poisoning, was him falling in love with the way Kurosaki’s permanently scowling face stretches out in an expression of pure joy just for him to see.

[cheesecakeislazy]

JEFF THE KILLER HEADCANONS BECAUSE FUCK YOU! (Jk I love you and hope your life is great)

1. Him and BeN are besties for life, ride or die, would suck the poison out of each others dicks (not gay though)

2. Jeff has eye drops on him 24/7 so he doesn’t go fucking blind

3. Jeff has anger issues, one moment he’s chill as fuck and then EJ told him something that pisses him off- and now there’s a stab wound in Toby, a hole in the wall, and an angry Slenderman.

4. Jeff is totally straight. He totally thinks boobs are awesome. And totally only boobs. (He’s bisexual and swears on god he’s straight.)

5. He wakes up at 2 pm because he hates being awake in the mornings

6. He’s a metal head. He blasts music from his room so loud you can hear it across the mansion (slender mansion AU)

7. His deep gravely ass voice is perfect for metal songs

8. He likes to paint his nails black, and black only any other color is fucking gay

9. His vocabulary is 90% cuss words

10. He rarely showers. Ironically the gamer showers more often than him. Jeff prefers to be a stinky son of a bitch (take that fangirls)

11. He makes up for it with his dental hygiene (kinda) he brushes them twice a day and they look perfect (mostly)

12. He has extra sharp canines

13. He named his knife “Knifu” aka his knife waifu

14. The knife has been used so much that it constantly reeks of bleach and blood; it has permanent blood stains on it

15. Jeff bites his nails pretty often

16. Jeff isn’t good with throwing knives- he also isn’t that good at stabbing…

17. Jeff literally just stabs and stabs until he thinks his victim is dead, he doesn’t know any major artery’s (did I spell that right?)

18. Jeff is dyslexic

19. Jeff is horrible at math but refuses to admit it

20. Jeff wears eyeliner but refuses to admit it

21. He secretly loves the color pink but refuses to admit it (see a pattern here yet?)

22. Jeff is super sensitive to light due to the fact he doesn’t have any eyelids

23. He wears black gloves because he has burn marks on his hands and hates it when people look at them (fingerless gloves as his fingers aren’t burnt)

24. Jeff really wants tattoos and piercings but can’t get any due to his skin being extremely sensitive and fragile

25. Jeff hates the sun, it hurts his eyes and skin

26. Jeff likes going to playgrounds at night because 1. Fucking swings are awesome and 2. Creepy

27. Fucker is 5’11 and constantly calls BeN a midget

28. Jeff had a small crush on Toby for a while and lowkey has a small crush on BeN but…

29. Jeff is highkey downbad for EJ (it’s one-sided)

30. If Jeff ever tried to cook, he would burn everything

31. Jeff is fucking terrified of fire

32. Sometimes Ben likes to scare Jeff shitless by lighting a small fire inside Bens hands infront of Jeff

33. Sometimes Jeff throws Ben inside a kiddy pool and watches him panic about drowning (he is fully above the water)

34. Despite the fact Jeff and Ben both fuck with each other and their fears, they do it in tame ways to ensure the other doesn’t actually have a panic attack of any kind

35. Jeff lives in sweatpants, jeans are for losers and shorts are gay

36. T-shirts and hoodies, Jeff literally does not own a single sweater, long sleeve, or tank top.

37. His favorite T-shirt says “Fuck me in my ass (but not in a gay way)”

38. His second favorite says “Emo metal loving slut”

39. Both and almost all of his t-shirts are black with either white or red/pink writing

40. It is Jeff’s goal to have every photo taken of him (with permission) to have him flipping off the camera

41. Jeff watches South Park but thinks Family guy is stupid

42. He tries really hard to get on Liu/Sully’s good side but his anger issues usually get in the way

43. Jeff and Nina are actually really good friends that lowkey view each other as family

44. Jeff and Nina love to piss each other off constantly (Ben will prank whoever he is asked to)

45. Jeff has tried to kill Jane quite a few times, and Jane is constantly trying to kill him

46. Jeff personally isn’t into weed but he doesn’t judge BeN for being a stoner lowkey

47. Jeff is a virgin but he wouldn’t be nervous at all about having sex

48. Jeff is a kinky bastard

49. Jeff likes a good bowl of strawberry ice cream

50. Jeff likes banana smoothies

51. Jeff owns a few Nirvana T-shirts

[childotkw]

I can't decide if I like Chocolate Willy Wonka- Harry or Hate poems receiving Harry. They are both so awesome, and the way you write them are just ✨️majestic ✨️Would you be willing to write another snippet for either of them?

Why don't you have both, my dear?

----Chocolate----

"Here, my good man," Potter says, affecting an obvious and overly polished accent in a deliberate mockery of Tom's own. "You desperately look like you need a taste of something sweet. It might fix that terribly sour expression of yours."

The other man holds a piece of chocolate up to Tom's mouth with all the showmanship of a ringmaster. He blithely ignores all social conventions, invading Tom's personal space with the same belligerence he has had since they were children.

Somewhere behind him, Tom hears Abraxas inhale sharply at the flagrant disrespect.

Good natured chuckles echo around them from those too stupid or unimportant to know who Tom is on sight.

How easily they are swept up in another's act. Drawn along by flash and panache, too starry-eyed by a gleaming surface to miss the lack of substance beneath.

Potter's mouth is curled in a perfectly pleasant smile, but his eyes are bright with sardonic amusement, as if he can hear Tom's thoughts. Everything from the slight bow to the angle of his tilted jaw is a dare - and God help him, but Tom has never been able to resist.

He raises a hand, face bland and unimpressed, to take the offering. Potter childishly dodges his attempt, then hands it over with a bright laugh. He waits until Tom is holding it pinched between his fingers before twirling around him in a move overflowing with the grace of a dancer.

Or a dueller.

Potter slides behind him, almost hooking his chin over Tom's shoulder and fluttering his hands down his arms - but never quite bold enough to touch.

He's always known just what lines he shouldn't cross with Tom.

"I made this one special for you, Mr. Riddle," Potter breathes against the shell of his ear. He's dropped the accent, finally, and his natural voice drips down Tom's spine like warm honey.

"Do enjoy it."

----Poems----

"You're breaking my heart here."

Harry's shoulder snap back instinctively, and he spins on his heels because like hell is he showing his back to this fucker for longer than he has to. "You'd have to have a heart in the first place for me to break it."

Riddle's amusement bubbles forth in an airy chuckle. Harry itches to punch him in the face. See him try to laugh with a shattered nose.

"Oh Harry, must you hurt me so?" the Slytherin splays a hand over his chest, blinking innocently. "I couldn't possibly take your cruelty anymore, sweetheart."

"Oh I'll make you take more than that, Riddle," Harry snarls - then immediately chokes at the amused jump the other boy's eyebrows make.

"Wait, fuck - no. That's not - I didn't mean - stop laughing, you prick!"

Riddle does not stop laughing. Harry hates how handsome he looks in the afternoon light streaming through the tower windows.

[frudoo]

Birthmark

The thought.

Dark!Gaz.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol, manipulation, brief smut.

MDNI

“How long?”

Maybe it was too good to be true. Wasn’t that always the case? He was almost too sweet, practically worshiping the very ground you walk on. You didn’t miss the signs—the coming home late, the smell of unfamiliar perfume, hickeys he swore that you left on him—but the fucker had a way of easing your pretty little mind, making you think that it was all in your head. He almost had you fooled, but tonight, after a few too many glasses of scotch, his drunken state made him admit to everything.

“Bon’, ah swear, ah ne’er meant tae-” Johnny begins, outstretched hands reaching out to grab your forearms, hot tears streaming down his beet-red face.

“How. Long?” You grit your teeth, shutting your eyes to avoid glaring daggers into the one person you thought would never hurt you.

“Only once, bon’, ah swear it,” his voice trembles, fingertips digging into the flesh of your arms as he pulls you closer.

You already knew about the affair, but the confession that fell from his lips made your heart drop from your stomach to your fucking toes.

“Do you love her?”

“Nae. God, nae. Could ne’er.”

When you finally make eye contact again, you nearly crumble, those cerulean eyes you fell in love with all glossy with tears and full of remorse—but how were you to know that it wasn’t all a ploy? Liars make phenomenal actors. He had you fooled for weeks.

Still, you move to the edge of your chair and cup his pretty face in your hands. All you can do is look down at him for a while, remember all the times he promised that you were the only woman for him, the only one he could ever love, the only one who could make him feel as good as you could. All lies that you were so eager to believe because surely your Johnny would never betray you like this. Ignorant bliss.

“Bon’, please, ah love ye more than anythin’. Lemme make it up t’ye, please,” Johnny begs, leaning into the gentleness of your touch, taking advantage of your love like he always does.

If it means those pitiful tears will stop, you’ll do anything. So you let him lead you up the stairs, let him lay you on the bed, let him eat you out and make you come the way he does best. You spread your legs for him and let him make love to you, let him kiss you with that mouth that fed you all those delicious fibs. The mouth that kissed another woman, that made her writhe in pleasure. The mouth that could turn honey into the sweetest, most addictive mead.

You let Johnny fuck himself stupid, even let him cum inside you for what he doesn’t know is the last time. He peppers your face with sloppy kisses that you can only assume are hollow, full of deceit. He passes out next to you and you watch his chest rise and fall with each deep breath, sleeping so peacefully you’d never guess he’d just admitted to breaking your heart, your trust, his vows. It’s a good thing you don’t have to guess on what you already know to be fact.

More for yourself than for him, you plant one final, soft kiss to his rosy lips, taking comfort in the fact that he’ll never get the satisfaction of knowing that it would be the last. You climb out of bed and slip off your wedding ring, leaving it right in the middle of his nightstand for him to see first thing in the morning. You clean yourself up with Johnny’s discarded shirt and toss it back on the floor, leaving it stained and ruined with the last of your shared fluids, a reminder of everything he threw away.

You pull on a pair of shorts as well as a comfy sweatshirt, then stuff a small bag to the brim with your favorite clothes and shoes. You try to avoid anything sentimental that reminds you of Johnny—the dress he bought you on your second wedding anniversary, the wooden box full of jewelry he would bring back from all the countries he went to. They hold too many fond memories that you’re sure would take you right back to him if you dwell on it long enough. The only way to move on is to leave it all behind.

So you do. You pack up your car and drive the streets aimlessly, fighting back stinging tears to keep your eyes focused on the road. Every song that comes on the radio reminds you of the man that was supposed to be yours and yours alone, so you settle for turning it off altogether and listening to the raindrops plummeting against your windshield. Fitting, isn’t it, for there to be a raging thunderstorm on the worst night of your life? Looming, dark and ugly, like the nasty secret Johnny kept from you.

You debate on finding a hotel to stay at, but that would mean having to spend Johnny’s money and you didn’t want to do that. Fuck, you’re dreading going through with everything—hiring a divorce lawyer and going to court, separating your bank account from his, finding a job and a new place to live—it’s all too much to handle. Too much to even think about right now. This is your worst nightmare, right here in front of you, with sharp claws and glowing red eyes, grabbing you by the scruff of your neck and swallowing you whole.

Part of you wants to turn around and welcome Johnny back into your heart with open arms, but you’re not so sure that any words or acts he can muster up are enough to mend the shattered pieces that become you. Broken can’t fix broken—you know that all too well, learned it when Johnny confided in you about what he does for a living. You should have known this would all end in heartbreak.

That doesn’t stop you from driving down an all-too familiar road, past the evergreens and into a rural heaven that contains your best friend—damn the fact that he’s Johnny’s mate, too. You need comfort from a trusted person, and who better than the one who was the first to let you know about Johnny’s infidelity?

As you knock on the wooden door to Kyle’s house with your bag in hand, the smiling man seems all too happy to invite you in.

Next ->