#I couldn't just ignore it

[delzinrowe]

Astarion being pouty

[sceletaflores]

HEAVY METAL LOVER!

pair: logan howlett x bartender!reader

wc: 4.2k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, drinking, swearing, motorcycle rides, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering (fem!receiving), creampie, wolverine's hairy tits, the claws show up ofc, porn with plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: watched deadpool & wolverine twice in theaters, started rewatching the x-men movies, pondered many different thoughts, sat down and wrote this. i need him to breed me. title from lady gaga's 'heavy metal lover' cause it's literally his song.

the wolverine is a regular at your bar…

You're shining glasses behind the bar when you hear it, the gruff sound of Logan’s voice turning away yet another girl that worked up the courage to come up to him. It’s his third rejection of the night, not that you were counting.

You were, you always do. You pay more attention to that side of the bar than you normally would when he’s here, which is nearly everyday for the past three weeks. He's not like any of your other regulars. He's almost always alone, and he never talks to you except when he calls for another drink. 

The only reason you even know his real name at all is because Wade told you one of the nights he tagged along, leaning his elbows on the bar to whisper over the sugared rim of his "Piña Colada. Extra creamy please, you know how I like it..." like he was telling you a secret.

"Don't let him hurt your feels honey bunch. That's just classic Logan for you, a man of few words. Huge case of blue balls by the way." 

You remember the way he let the obvious innuendo hang in the air, the knowing look he gave you as he spun the little paper umbrella floating in his drink. You didn’t think you were being that obvious, that someone as socially inept as Wade was able to pick up on the way your eyes would linger a little too long on the broad width of Logan’s shoulders, on the way his arms would strain against the fabric of his flannels. 

You’d seen him on the news, thick corded muscles all wrapped in blue and yellow leather. It haunted you for days, playing in your mind on a constant loop of sweaty biceps until you finally gave in and pulled out your favorite vibrator. 

Even with that, there’s just something about the jeans and flannels he wears outside of the suit that make you want to jump over the bar and drop down to your knees right in front of him. Your mouth open wide and waiting.

The dull ‘thunk’ of Logan placing his empty glass on the bartop grabs your attention, two quick raps of his knuckles against the wood ripping you from your thoughts. “Another,” he says briskly, not looking away from the peeling backsplash on the wall behind you.

You usually snapped at men who’d bark orders at you, but The Wolverine isn’t just any man. He's certainly the only man you'd ever take orders from willingly, happily.

You grin, tossing your towel over your shoulder as you grab the whiskey bottle off the shelf and slide over to him, tipping the amber colored bottle over to start refilling his glass. “That’s the third one tonight,” you say casually, casting your eyes over his shoulder to the girl from before retreating back to her friends. “I take it you don’t come here looking for company?”

Logan’s eyes flick to yours, it’s the first time he’s looked at you all night. You look back, lips pulled into a small smile as more whiskey than you’d usually pour splashes against the sides of his glass. The music playing from the speakers fades into a dull hum around you.

He holds your gaze for a second longer, a flash of something you can't quite read passing through his eyes before he’s looking away again. “Not the kind you’re thinking of,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that has something warm zinging up your spine.

You set the bottle down next to him, brow piqued in curiosity. “And what kind is that?”

He doesn't respond right away, just raises the now full glass to his lips to take a slow sip. You almost think he’s going to ignore you again, but then he speaks, “You ask everyone that comes in here personal questions, bub?” 

There’s the barest hint of amusement lacing his words that has you biting your bottom lip to try and contain the absolute giddiness blooming in your chest. It’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever given you before. Encouraged, you step in a little closer, hoping to draw him out further.

“Only the ones with their asses practically fused to my stools,” you shrug, a playful glint sparkling in your eyes. “So what is it, you got some poor wife you leave at home every time you come here? Because the ‘tall, dark, and kind of morally ambiguous’ thing is obviously working for you.”

Logan turns his eyes to you again, his brow raised in amusement. You’re close enough that you can see the way his lips turn up at the corners. He seems to consider your question, gaze slowly trailing along your face before flicking back to your eyes. "No wife," he replies, the words slow and deliberate. "No home to leave her at either.”

His response hangs in the air between you, heavier than you anticipated. You let out a soft breath, lips parting ever so slightly. You can practically feel the weight of his gaze settling over you, leaving your whole body warm and tingly. The heat swirling deep in your gut slipping down to pool wet and sticky in your panties. Logan’s eyes blink shut for just a second, the bridge of his nose twitching lightly.

You almost can’t believe this is really happening, that the angry guy at the end of your bar you’ve seen turn away pretty girl after pretty girl is flirting with you. It makes you feel dizzy with power, like you could do anything, but it’s also one of the most intimidating things you’ve ever experienced. You didn’t realize what it meant to be the center of Logan’s attention until now, but you refuse to back down.

 He gives an inch, so you take a mile.

Your grin widens as you lean your elbows on the bar, resting your chin on the heels of your hands. Logan doesn’t react to you invading his space, just keeps his eyes on you with a passive look on his face, but you don’t miss the way his gaze darts down to the low cut of your top.

“So…” you say slowly, voice dipping into a softer more intimate tone, “that means you’re free later tonight?” You tilt your head to the side coyly, allowing your hair to cascade over your shoulder, the movement drawing his gaze.

Logan’s eyes widen the tiniest bit, a surprised huff leaving his lips. He raises his glass, taking another long drink. Your eyes trace the sharp line of his jaw to where his adam’s apple bobs enticingly as he swallows. Your lips tingle with the need to mark up the tan column of his throat, to sink your teeth in the skin there, to taste.

The neckline of his undershirt dips low enough that you can see the dark hair scattered across his chest, dog tags dangling from a chain around his neck to sit in the center.

You drag your eyes back up to his face, flushing when you see that he's already looking at you over the rim of his drink. He sets his half drained glass down, a skeptical look on his face. “How old are you, kid?”

You shake your head with a soft laugh, dropping your palms to lay flat on the bartop. If that makes your top dip a little lower to flash more of your cleavage in Logan’s eyeline, then that’s just a bonus. “Old enough to be here,” you reply after a short pause, gazing up at him from under your lashes, “Old enough to know what I want.”

Logan’s eyes darken, the warm brown of them seeming deeper and even more intense than before. The dim overhead lights cast shadows across his rugged features, highlighting the scruff on his jaw. You can’t help but imagine the rough scratch of it brushing up against your inner thighs.

Logan pushes his glass away, leaning in with a soft grunt, his eyes drop to your lips. You suck in a shocked breath, your whole body lighting up at being so close to him. Your heart is racing in your chest, a quick ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum that echoes in your ears.

His lips turn up in a sly grin, the sharp canines of his teeth on display. “Is that so?” He asks, voice going all husky like gravel and honey. He meets your eyes and you swear you can see the sparks going off in the air between you, everything else in the bar completely fizzling out as his breath mingles with yours. “Careful what you wish for,” he says, his voice a low rumble that makes your knees weak. “You might just get it.”

Your lips curve into a mischievous smile, the heat between you palpable. “I’m counting on it,” you reply, your voice dripping with promise. It takes everything in you to straighten up and pull away from Logan, stepping back with the forgotten bottle in your hand. “My shift ends at eleven,” you say with a small shrug, jerking your head to a door across the room, “staff leaves through the alley door.” 

It’s a clear invitation, one that Logan easily picks up on. His hungry gaze follows every move you make as you shelf the whiskey.

Before he can say anything, someone calls you from across the bar, shaking their empty glass impatiently. You throw him one last smile over your shoulder, mouthing ‘eleven‘ again with a quick nod of your head. You aren’t sure if it’s supposed to reassure you or him.

Logan smirks nonetheless, standing from the bar before draining the rest of his drink and throwing a few bills down. The air crackles as you watch him make his way towards the exit, eyes lingering on the way his jeans hug the thick muscles of his legs before someone is snapping their fingers at you to serve them.

The rest of your shift drags by, but the excitement and hope swirling in your stomach doesn’t fade. You’re practically thrumming with excitement by the time eleven rolls around, anticipation coursing through your veins as you clock out and grab your bag from your locker.

You pull the door to the alley open, the heavy metal creaking with the swing. The gravel crunches under your shoes as you step outside, eyes eagerly searching the space in search of Logan. The light mounted above the door shines around you, but you don’t see him anywhere. 

Just as disappointment starts to settle in your chest, you hear a loud rumble coming from the down the street. A bright light shines across the road as it gets closer and closer until there’s a motorcycle pulled up against the alley’s opening.

Logan kicks the bike’s stand down, leaning over to hold out a helmet in offering. “You coming or not?” he calls out, voice deep and teasing, “I’m not known for my patience.”

You can’t help but laugh, a mix of exhilaration and nervousness bubbling up inside you. With a confident stride, you walk toward him, the loud growl of the bike reverberates through your body like thunder with every step. “You’re just full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?” 

You take the helmet from his hand, but he doesn't let go right away, making your fingers brush against his in a way that sends a shiver up your arm. You meet his gaze, the smirk on his lips matching the dangerous glint in his eyes.

He drops his hand down to the bike’s handle, jerking his head back to the empty space behind him. “Hop on.”

You straddle the bike, the leather seat warm from the rumbling engine beneath you. You give Logan your address as you slip the helmet on. His body is warm and solid against your front, you can’t help but press a little closer, your hands falling to rest on his waist. The leather of his jacket is smooth under your fingertips.

Logan turns his head to the side, the street lights shine along the side of his face in a warm yellow glow. “Hang on,” he says, voice barely audible over the roar of the bike’s engine starting up.

The sudden rush of wind as he pulls off paired with the thrillingly intense vibration of the engine revving under you is exhilarating. You wrap your arms tight around his waist, fingers digging in slightly as you lean into the curve of his body. 

The city blurs into a whirlwind of colorful lights as Logan navigates the streets with a confident ease. The cool night air whips past you, every turn and acceleration pumping more adrenaline through your veins. You cling to Logan’s waist like it’s a lifeline– there’s a sense of freedom and excitement that comes with being on the bike, but you think the real thrill is being pressed against him like this, feeling the power of his strength under you.

The ride seems like it takes both hours and seconds all at once when Logan pulls up to your house's gate. He kills the engine, the sudden silence a stark contrast from the roaring bike. Your heart pounds in your chest, pulse thumping as you slide the helmet off.

Logan takes it from your hands, eyes scanning over your house. “Nice place,” he comments casually, swinging his leg over the bike to stand next to you. 

"Thanks," you say, your voice a tad breathless. You can’t help but feel a little self-conscious as you dig for your keys in your bag, nerves finally starting to set in. The air is cold against your flushed skin, and you’re hyper aware of Logan’s presence behind you as you unlock the gate and push it open.

He doesn’t touch you as the two of you walk up the steps to your house, infuriatingly keeping his distance with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans.

Your legs shake with every step, you can’t tell if it’s left over adrenaline from the ride or the building anticipation for the ride you know is waiting for you beyond your front door. Your hands tremble as you fumble with the lock, opening the door and stepping into the darkness of your living room. 

You’re barely a foot inside before a pair of strong hands pull you backwards, getting whirled around by your waist until your back hits your closed front door mute thud. You don’t have any time to react before Logan’s crowding up against you, his body a solid wall of muscle pressing you hard against the door. His lips crash into yours in a hungry kiss, you can taste the whiskey from earlier sharp and smoky on his tongue.

You respond eagerly, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down even closer. Logan’s hands roam over your body rough and possessive, one sliding up to cup the back of your neck while the other grips your waist, pulling you even closer. His hands leave a trail of fire in their wake, your skin tingling with every brush of his fingers. You can feel the raw power in his touch, a barely there restrained strength that has your heart racing even faster. 

“I could fucking smell you,” he growls agasint your neck, digging his sharp teeth into your collarbone meanly. You can't help but let out a soft moan, your head falling back against the door to give him better access. The rough stubble on his jaw scrapes deliciously against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Could smell how goddamn wet you got, back at the bar.”

His hand slips under the waistband of your jeans, sliding down the front of your panties to brush against your clit. Your mouth drops open with a soft moan, your slick lips still tingling. “Do you have any fuckin’ idea how hard it was not to bend you over, to not rip these things off and fuck you over the bar?” he asks roughly, lips brushing against your skin with every word. “Wanted to take you right, make everyone watch while I made you scream.”

Your breath hitches at his words, a wave of pleasure crashing through you. The rough skin of his fingertips press more firmly against your clit, drawing a broken moan from your lips. “Logan,” you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily against his hand.Your hands claw at his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you try to ground yourself. 

His lips capture yours again in a bruising kiss, sliding two thick fingers into you with a rough thrust. “Atta girl,” he murmurs against your mouth, dragging his tongue across your bottom slip. “That’s it, say my name,” he growls, swallowing your moans as his fingers pump into you with an unrelenting pace. Your walls clench around him, a needy whine escaping your throat as he begins to fuck his fingers in and out of your wet cunt. 

The coil of pleasure deep in your stomach tightens with every thrust of his fingers, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. You can feel the pressure start to build, like a dam threatening to burst, but this isn’t how you want to come. You break the kiss, a thin thread of saliva connecting your lips before it thins and breaks. “Wait,” you say breathlessly, hand slipping down to grip his forearm tightly, “I want to come with you inside me.”

Logan growls, a deep, primal sound that you can feel rumble deep in his chest where it’s pressed against yours. “Bedroom,” he demands, hands dropping to the back of your thighs and lifting. 

You wrap your legs around his waist with a quiet squeal, attacking the skin of his neck with your teeth as he walks the two of you down the dark hallway. “First door on the right,” you whisper, dragging your tongue along the column of his throat. You can feel the thick length of his cock straining against his jeans press into your hip. He sucks in a sharp breath as you roll your hips down, sliding the damp fabric of your clothed cunt over him.

Logan kicks the door open with a force that has it slamming against the wall, the sound barely registering in your lust-addled brain. Logan dumps you on the bed, the force of it bouncing you on the mattress. He rips his white undershirt over his head and drops to his knees in front of you, big hands coming up to grip the waistband of your jeans.

The muscles in his arms don’t even flex as he rips your shorts down the middle, denim and along with lace panties tearing like tissue paper in his hands and falling to the floor in tattered pieces. You gasp at the cold air hitting your hot, aching cunt. 

Logan’s hands run up and down the bare skin of your calves, eyes glued to the soaked skin of your inner thighs. Your thighs start to tremble under his gaze, your patience starting to wear thin. Logan drags his eyes back to you, taking in the pleading look on your face. He smirks, wordlessly rising to his feet to pop open the button of his jeans.

You watch with bated breath as he unzips his fly, eyes glued to the way he starts to push them down his legs just enough that they fall to pool around his ankles. Your mouth drops open, eyes going wide at the sight of him.

He’s so big, so thick and heavy that his cock hangs hard between his hairy thighs instead of slapping up against his stomach. There’s a thick drop of pre-cum leaking from the tip, dripping down a thick vein running along the side.

Your mouth waters with want, the want to bury your nose in the dark thatch of hair surrounding the base, the want to have him fuck your throat raw and red. You can almost feel the ache in your jaw. 

As much as you want to get him in your mouth, you want him inside you even more.

“Get your ass over here,” you demand breathlessly, tearing your shirt off your head in one swift motion. Logan smirks, stepping out of his jeans and making his way across the room. His dog tags jingle with every step, your cunt clenches weakly.

He stalks up the mattress like a predator, eyes ablaze as a cocky smirk plays on his lips. Your legs fall open unconsciously, thighs spreading wide to make enough room for his hips to slot against yours.

You gasp at the thick head of his cock sliding through your wet folds, your body arching off the bed. The sensation is electric, shooting through you like a live wire. "Logan," you breathe, your voice barely more than a whimper. "Please..."

"Please what?" he asks, his lips curving into a smirk against your skin. "You gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart."

Your cheeks flush hot, but the need burning inside you is stronger than any embarrassment. "I want you," you admit, your voice trembling with desire. "I want you to fuck me, Logan."

His growl is low and feral, his fingers teasing you relentlessly as he presses his forehead to yours. "That's a good girl," he rumbles, his breath hot against your lips as he sinks into the tight heat of your cunt in a single thrust. 

The pace he sets is unrelenting, one hand braced on the pillow next to your head while the other grips your bed’s frame for better leverage to fuck down into you. The sting of his cock splitting your cunt open has your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders. His dog tags hang from his neck, swinging like a pendulum as he starts to thrust.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grates out, brows furrowed in pleasure. His hips speed up, barely pulling out halfway before he plunges back into you. The bed squeaks under you, slamming up against the wall as Logan fucks you.

It’s like Logan surrounds every inch of you, strong arms caged around your head while his body covers yours, metal bonded bones pressing you down into the mattress so there’s nothing you can do but take it. You know that he’s ruined every other man in the world for you as the heavy snap of his hips pounds against the skin of your ass hard enough to bruise. The thick muscles of chest bounces as he moves, the coarse hair scraping against your sensitive nipples.

The head of his cock pounds the soft spot inside of you that has your eyes fluttering closed, mind going hazy as heat starts to pool at the base of your spine.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you beg brokenly, tears sting the corners of your eyes. “God! I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come–”

“Come on baby,” Logan goads, dropping down to his fore arm so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck, “Give it to me, come on this cock, show me how much you fucking love it,”

The stinging bite of his sharp canines scraping the fluttering pulse of your neck makes you wail, nails raking down his back hard enough to leave long red welts that heal as you go. Your cunt clenches around the pulsing length of his cock, greedily milking him as you come in a rush of wetness around his cock.

“Fuck,” Logan grits out, his hips faltering. It’s not by much, but just enough for you to notice. The rhythmic smack smack smack of skin stuttering as his breath comes out in fast pants against the sweaty skin of your neck. His cock jerks inside you fiercely, his heavy balls tightening as he gets closer to the edge. You can hear the metal frame of your bed creaking warningly under his grip.

“Come in me,” you beg breathlessly, tightening your ankles around his waist. “Please, Logan I need it–”

Logan lets out a feral growl as his hand drops from your headboard, the sharp metallic sound of his claws unsheathing rings out above you before he slams his fist into the mattress next to your head. He floods your insides, pumping you full of his come as he grunts like a beast on top of you. He gives a few more weak thrusts of his hips, letting the two of you ride out your highs before he finally stills.

You hear the quiet snikt of his claws retracting from your mattress and back into between his knuckles before Logan collapses on top of you, arms braced on either side of your head to take most of his weight. His breath puffs raggedly over the skin of your shoulder, his spent cock still snug in your sore cunt. 

“You owe me a new mattress,” you say breathlessly, digging the heels of your feet into his lower back sharply. 

Logan chuckles into your neck, tipping his head up to look at you with dark eyes. His lips curl into a smirk as he rolls his hips, his still hard cock dragging along the sensitive walls of your cunt makes you gasp. “Yeah?” he asks, low and velvety. His eyes flick to the three holes punched through your sheets.

“You can add it to my tab,” he says with another stronger roll of his hips, “We’re not done here.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

a/n! the actual biggest shout out to @ebodebo for beta reading and listening to my non-stop rambling and horny thoughts about this man. she's a true solider because i have been so annoying about this. mwah mwah mwah.

[pr0cyon-lotor]

AU where chess is a common strategy game in PIDW and SY is a chess master before he gets transmigrated. Like undefeated and well known in the community. He's probably popular even in mainstream social media because he's a pretty boy with a soft demeanor.

Of course he still reads PIDW and is a massive hater, but he now hides it because he sees it as shameful especially with his reputation of being a kind-hearted person.

Anyway he dies and gets thrown into the novel a bit after the Qing generation ascends. He's just a rogue cultivator or maybe even a demon, not really important. What's important is that he gets bored and misses his old hobby.

He finds out chess is a thing in this world and immediately hops into it again. Sadly, he keeps beating people and no one is a real challenge. So to give himself a puzzle, he picks up other strategy games and gets really good at them too. And after a few years, he is well known in PIWD with his skills in a variety of games.

Enter SJ. Fresh off getting LBH into his peak and STRESSED about how much he sees himself in this child and about how much he hates that fact.

He enters the Warm Red Pavilion and finds some guy playing a game with one of the jiejies. One of those little mind games to entertain the guests, and he's playing against the best one.

SJ watches while he waits for his room and to his surprise the man wins. He immediately gets ready to step in-between because whenever guests win against one of the prostitutes they always get handsy and he knows that particular one doesn't like to do sex work (like maybe she specializes in poetry and dancing instead yk).

Instead of the man getting handsy, he asks for another game, which she accepts with a smile. And now SJ is watching them play with much more interest. After a while the madam comes over and asks if he's interested in their regular.

SJ asks about the man and gets his name and finds out that apparently SY comes to the brothel to play against the ladies and listen to music at times.

SJ keeps it in mind and then leaves for his room. The next time he sees SY is during another trip down the mountain (probably dressed down to not draw attention to himself). This time he was in a tea shop playing go against an elderly man. SY wins again and patiently explains what mistakes the old man made.

The old man accepts defeat and asks him for a rematch. SY agrees, and SJ finally approaches out of curiosity. SJ asks if he can play SY after they're done. The old man says something about how he's probably going to lose anyway and says SJ just takes his turn.

SJ accepts it and sits in front of SY. He thinks it's going to be an easy win, something to stroke his bruised ego. Only for him to get completely annihilated like it was an embarrassing lost for him. (It wasn't embarrassing, he almost won, but he didn't win so obviously it was embarrassing)

SJ expects gloating and nearly crushes his fan in his hand. SY tells him that he was a tough opponent and he asks for another rematch. SJ is confused about the sincerity and hesitantly agrees even though his ego tells him to cut his losses now.

They continue to play multiple games in a row, each one getting longer and longer with each mistake SY explains and helps SJ fix (he doesn't even notice he's taking advice from a man). They continue playing and drinking tea until they're kicked out because the shop is closing.

SY laughs sheepishly and says he didn't even notice the time pass. He asks if SJ is free to play again because it's been the first time in years he's had that much fun against someone else. SJ agrees because he refuses to have a losing streak (and he found it a little fun too).

Eventually it becomes a routine, SJ comes down the mountain every week and plays SY in go until the establishment they're in kicks them out. And because his brain is constantly on how to beat SY, he starts neglecting other things (like abusive LBH and other duties).

And because he's neglecting duties, eventually he has to do a information collecting mission with Shang Qinghua. They arrive at the town and they're tasked with collecting information on a lead of a demon hiding within a festival.

Somehow this leads to SY joining their little info gathering group and finding out SQH is Airplane (he's still somehow unaware of SJ being SQQ because of course he is).

Shenanigans ensue and somehow a sting operation is set up with SY being used as bait. He manages to coerce the demon into a game of chess while he waits for SJ and SQH to arrive.

They play chess. He thinks he'll just stall until the two get there, but halfway through he moves his knight and it ends up near the demon's knight. And with a straight face, the demon takes both knights off the board while claiming "And they're both out for horsie marriage."

Right then SJ and SQH arrive to slay the demon, only to bare witness to SY doing the Xianxia equivalent of shooting the demon point blank with a Glock 19 because surprise surprise that bullshit move pissed off the chess master.

SJ says something sarcastic about not needing to save the damsel (they put) in distress. And then SY asks to speak to SQH privately while dragging him out by the ear.

He continues to interrogate the author because what the ACTUAL FUCK was that bullshit move?! And SQH defends himself by saying he never thought a professional chess player would ever read his stuff, much less play the game in-verse. He tells SY he thought it would be funny if that could happen.

Anyway.

SJ has to pry SY off SQH because he almost legitimately strangles him to death. SY is dragged away, screaming things that'd make even a demon blush, and admittedly, SJ is amused.

They end up in some tea shop, SY muttering about the idiocy of it all in English, and SJ ordering for both of them. He asks what got SY so mad since like this guy has had an unshakable pleasant demeanor until now.

SY makes up some story about how his hometown played chess differently and that he's realizing he doesn't know how chess is played anywhere else. He asks SJ for a guide for playing chess because he doesn't want to overreact like he did before.

SJ agrees in exchange for a guide of how his hometown played chess. The deal was made and after they came back to town they both write their manuals. They exchange them in their next meetup, and SY is muttering about how stupid some of the rules are. SJ finds it very funny as he reads the manual SY gave him, finding that he prefers his version since there was less unnecessary traps.

SJ eventually asks to play SY in a chess game once he understands his version. SY happily agrees and they play over and over again until SJ beat him. SY is over the moon and asks for another rematch, which he gets beaten again. They play a few more times wins alternating until SY grabs SJ's hands and tells him he's in love with him and his massive brain.

SJ is caught off guard and flustered, so he hits SY with his fan and calls him shameless as he leaves to preserve as much face as possible. SY whines about him being unfair and follows SJ while apologizing about the comment.

SJ ignores him and leaves SY alone. He thinks he fucked up until the next time they meet, and SJ brings him a book he been meaning to buy but just couldn't find. SY is about to comment on the gift but SJ shuts him up and hides his face behind his fan. He manages to see the smallest hint of a blush and (shockingly) understands.

They both start exchanging gifts each meetup in silent courting. And surprisingly he hasn't abused LBH since he got there (because he forgets to. he has a boyfriend to worry about thank you very much 🤨), so when the Conference comes, SJ doesn't throw LBH into the abyss.

He still ends up in the abyss but only because MF got thrown in when they encountered MBJ, and he jumped after his shixiong. SY is there because of course he wants to stop the evil scum villain from hurting his little lamb, but he's just standing there like

Because how else is he supposed to react to LBH throwing himself into the abyss to go after MF who was thrown in when they encountered MBJ. Was Ming Fan even supposed to be there????

Also why is SJ in such ornate robes. Why is he mourning? Why are they going back to Qing Jing? WHY IS NING YINGYING CALLING SHEN JIU BABA?! WHY IS EVERYONE CALLING HIM SHIZUN?!!!?!???

[pidgydraws]

🌷 worth the wait 🌷

inspired by the fic "a light kept alive" by inkingbrushes

[theblisterdoesntexist]

jonathan davis, in the 666th issue of the kerrang magazine (1997)

[princess-kittyxoxo]

~ love me harder ~

CashApp | Ko-fi

[24bughours]

I really enjoy these two

[allastoredeer]

Ya'll want to know the funniest shit?

I'm researching the era when Alastor was alive right now to get a better idea of both his character, the life he lived before Hell, and to hash out a backstory for him.

And so, apparently, Alastor lived through the Prohibition (which was basically the United States government illegalizing the manufacture, transportation, and sale of alcohol because they thought it was the cause of a lot of domestic violence and child abandonment).

Alastor canonically died in 1933.

Do you know how long the Prohibition lasted?

From 1920-1933.

ALASTOR LITERALLY DIED THE SAME YEAR ALCOHOL BECAME LEGAL AGAIN. CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW BITTER HE MUST'VE BEEN?

The Prohibition officially ended on December 5, 1933, and now my headcanon is that Alastor died December 6, 1933. Literally the day after he could legally drink all the booze he wanted.

I am learning a LOT about New Orleans and the era Alastor lived through (including the gay community in the city at the time) which has been a lot of fun, and I just wanted to share that tidbit because it is so fucking funny to me.

[fridgrave2-0]

hehe ghost-turbo haunting felix au

turbo is connected to the last piece of his code in the whole arcade - a trophy he gifted to felix in mid 80s as a symbol of him genuinely caring about their relationships on par with being the best racer. felix also gave him one of his medals and both kept their gifts next to other rewards, but when roadblasters and turbotime were unplugged, the medal was gone with everything else

now, after burning in cola-lava turbo is basically dead, but scraps of his code still were intertwined with the trophy (after all, it was his first winner's cup, but felix never knew about it), giving turbo an opportunity to exist as a shadow incapable of interacting with anything and anyone besides felix, who kept the trophy even after the roadblasters incident

also I went crazy in tags, feel free to check them out

[limeartichoke]

hey i forgot to upload this

[ambusterpm]

I just couldn't stand it anymore, he deserved that hug,,,, (in reference to this post: here )

[trustymikh]

day 13 - stars

he's grinding that gacha, baby!!

[sceletaflores]

thinking about needy art...just so desperate for you :((( always so horny and riled up :((( he needs you so bad he can't help it :(((

we love you girl!!!!!! pls don't die!!!!!!!!

-🧶

anon i was literally just thinking about this omfg we're so connected it's crazy (this lowkey wandered into a bit of puppy!art territory, @fawnnpaws your influence is too great <333)

and you're SO right!!! in my mind this is so married art coded. that man literally worships the ground you walk on, there's nothing he wouldn't do for his WIFE. the woman with HIS last name. the woman that wears HIS ring on your finger. you're his whole world.

you're cooking dinner when the front door creaks open, the sound of art dropping his keys and bag clear from where you're stood at the stove.

he's always a keyed up, horny monster after practice, so you're not surprised when two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. art clings to you like a second skin, pressing his chest to your back and hooking his chin over your shoulder, a sweet "hey baby," muttered into your hair.

you hum, not looking away from the pasta coming to a boil in front of you. "have a good practice?"

art nods, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your familiar scent. "missed you," he says, voice going all light and airy. it makes you smile, stirring the pasta calmly as art starts grinding against your ass in small circles. you wonder if he even knows he's doing it or if he's more gone than you first thought.

"i did so good today, you'd be so proud of me," he rambles, brushing his lips over your neck as he speaks. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

"yeah? hope you worked up an appetite, it's almost ready." your tone is overly casual, like you're not soaking your panties at the feel of art's thick cock through the thin fabric of your sweats. but it's all part of the game, ignoring him only works him up more.

"i could eat," he pants against your skin, a pointed roll of his hips pushes you closer to the stove. "god, i couldn't stop thinking about you." he groans, finally done pretending that it's dinner he cares about. he trails wet kisses down your neck, his hands slipping up under your shirt to paw at the lacy cups of your bralette.

the pot's water snaps and pops in warning, threatening the bare expanse of your stomach. you push art's hands down but he's not deterred, dropping them to knead at the meat of your hips.

"let's go to bed," he suggests into the crook of your neck, his breathing starting to get a little faster as he grinds against you with a purpose.

it's tempting, but you're not done cooking yet, and you know this won't take long.

"no," you say dismissively, turning the heat down to let the sauce pan on another burner slow to a simmer.

art whines, nuzzling deeper into your neck. his hand slides around, slipping between your legs to rub your cunt through your bottoms. "please?"

you sigh contently at his touch, letting your head drop to his shoulder. you let yourself get lost in him for a few seconds before you push his hand away again and cast your gaze back to the food, "no."

"the couch?" he tries, "it's just right there, in the living room. i can eat you out, i'll make you feel so good."

you bite your lip, stifling a smile at his needy begging. you bob your head side to side lightly, a considering noise passing through your lips before you deny him for the third time, "no."

art swallows, his breath getting shallow. "right here, i could eat you out right here," he rambles, his hips speeding up. you can feel the wetness of his pre-come leaking through his own shorts to seep into yours. "i could fuck you right here, against the counter."

you hum noncommittally, adding more dried oregano. it's quiet, just the sound of art's ragged breathing and the hiss of the boiling water. art takes it upon himself to fill the silence.

"i could," he takes a shuddering breath, "we don't have to fuck, i could just eat you out. i could sit by your feet, you don't have to do anything. i can...i could, i could use your leg."

you almost give in, his sweet voice begging you to let him get his mouth on you too much. you don't have to see his face to know he's gone red and flush, embarrassed but too worked up to stop.

"you want me to abandon dinner because, why? you can't keep your dick down? i'm busy, art."

art’s breath hitches, his hands trembling as they grip your hips. "i’m sorry," he breathes out, though you know he’s anything but. the apology only makes him grind harder, chasing any scrap of attention you might throw his way. “please,” he whimpers, his voice cracking. “i just— i need it so bad. please, baby.”

you click your tongue in disapproval, shaking your head as you turn back to the stove, stirring the sauce with a slow, deliberate motion. “you’re such a mess, art. can’t even wait until dinner’s done before you start acting like a desperate slut, can you?”

art shudders behind you, his grip tightening on your waist as his hips jerk involuntarily. “i’m sorry,” he gasps out for the second time. “i just—fuck, i can’t help it. please, let me—”

"no, if you want to come in here and hump my leg like a desperate puppy, than that's how you're going to come."

art’s whimper is pitiful, his hips stuttering against you, driven by nothing but raw desire. he’s practically drooling, his breath hot and uneven against your neck as he desperately grinds himself against your thigh.

“please, please,” he chants, the word a broken prayer on his lips, but you don’t miss the way he shudders under your cruel tone, his body trembling with anticipation.

“god, you’re pathetic,” you say through a condescending laugh, “you can’t even control yourself for a second, can you? always so eager to make a mess. i should make you clean it up with your tongue.”

art comes in his boxers with a broken whine. the timer goes off a couple seconds later.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Levi: God, these fucking things… … Robin: You okay? Levi: [sniffs] I’m fine. Robin: Let me in. Levi: What, no! … Robin: Okay, I’m coming in. Levi: [hisses] What’re you doing?! Robin: [grunts] Coming in. Levi: Oh my god, what if someone shows up-.. I could’ve been taking a shit too! Robin: Well, no one else is here and I hope you’re not taking a shit with your pants on. Levi: Obviously not. Robin: You might not be toilet trained for all I know… Robin: You should come round later, get to know Alex-.. I think you’d like her. Levi: You just miss me doing your homework. Robin: Hmm, maybe. Levi: Really though? Robin: Uh-huh.. bring your glasses too, I wanna see what they look like. Levi: How did you-… Robin: You left your contacts in the sink. Levi: Oh-.. maybe. Robin: Make it after four, I got detention again.

[accidentcache]

going ice skating with Dabi and Hawks and just laughing whenever they fall <3

it's practically the end of winter but I can't get off my mind

okay contrary to popular belief i think touya shows off the he knows how to ice skate. keigo can't and he is like a baby deer on the ice.

and it's so cute, when you brought up the idea touya was actually excited to go. neither could ever really say no to you (keigo's weakness is your pout and touya is always down to go with the flow) and both thought that ice skating was a fun little date idea.

so here the three of you were downtown hosu, touya showing off by skating past keigo backwards with his hands in his pockets while the blonde clings to the walls on unsteady feet. you can't help but cackle at the sight-- you've offered your hand to him multiple times but he refuses it every time. he's determined to 'look cool' in front of you and actually skate, but you only find him endearing and dorkish.

at some point you pull off to the side and throw your legs over the wall and watch the two of them antagonize each other. keigo is trying to defend himself against touya's teasing-- it's not working.

the sight is sweet. touya looks a lot healthier since rehab and getting out of the hospital, and keigo is starting to relax and take care of himself better since taking the role of president of the hpsc. and yeah, they are happy-- you know they are. they've come to terms with their situations and their lives but in this moment, where they only have to worry about gliding (or trying) to move around the ice-- they couldn't have looked more carefree.

the sight of them makes your heart clench. touya's eyes meet yours over the makeshift rink and he grins. you can see the warmth in his eyes, there's a fire in those irises but it burns for a different reason. still hot and scorching, but not nearly as unconstrained as before.

"he looks happy," a voice speaks beside you and you practically jump at the sound of it.

"shouto!" your heart races as your head turns to find the boy standing just off to the side of you, hands clasped behind his back and staring off to the rink where his eldest brother terrorizes your boyfriend. your heart settles slowly, watching his gaze and tracing it until it lands on your two idiots. "what are you doing out in hosu?"

"i help with the rink sometimes," he shrugs halfheartedly. "patrol shift."

you hum in response but don't really say anything. your relationship with the youngest todoroki isn't the strongest, but it's there. since the war both you and touya have been trying to build a relationship with him-- with all of the todoroki siblings.

touya's head lifts and sees his younger brother standing next to you-- he lifts a hand in greeting and shouto returns it. your boyfriend's mouth moves a little to form what you know is a small smile but whether shouto knows that is beyond you. touya looks as if he's going to move to join the two of you but he can't go anywhere with keigo clinging to his arm and desperately trying not to land on his ass.

"you want to go to dinner with us? if your patrol is over any time soon," you're speaking before you can even think about it. but you can see the way shouto watches the two of them, he's moved closer to stand next to you and there's a hint of a fond smile on his lips.

shouto nods a little. if he's shocked at all about the offer his expression doesn't show it. "i'm off in thirty minutes. i'd love to join you guys."

your smile mirrors his. and yeah, touya was a little grumpy about his younger brother crashing date night with you and keigo-- but he enjoyed spending time with his younger brother.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[snekky-arts]

Coming to a New Beginning

~~~

did NOT mean for this final installment to take this long, but it's here now! and I'm truly so grateful for the support and excitement this little series has garnered.

Like all other installments, this will be available in my Inprnt shop!

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