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deeversuswords · 2 days ago

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PAIRING —Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki x Vigilante F!Reader RATING — Explicit CONTAINS —heavy angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), mutual pining, slow burn, eventual smut, moral ambiguity, cheating (not between katsuki/reader), unhealthy relationships, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief/mourning, dark themes (past abuse, stalking, kidnapping, torture, quirk trafficking), violence, swearing, open but hopeful ending, dual pov (mostly reader), no use of y/n◆ married bakugou katsuki—not to reader—and has a daughter too SUMMARY —Running away would be the sensible thing to do. Getting as far away as possible from him, the one person who’s your ticket to losing your freedom. Not searching for him out of stupid curiosity and showing up at the last place you should: his house. They say curiosity killed the cat, but yours seems to always end up as the key unlocking doors that should probably stay locked. Because when you open the door to Bakugou Katsuki’s life, it’s not a loving marriage, not a happy family of three you find, but falsity, forced duty, and a dark secret that threatens his very own life.Bakugou Katsuki, the pro hero tasked with catching you and your downfall. And you, the vigilante exposing ugly truths for a living—his salvation.

➥AO3 LINK // ➥AO3 CHAPTER LINK // ➥TUMBLR CHAPTERS LIST

CHAPTER WARNINGS — choking

WORD COUNT — ~3.9k

a/n: it feels weird to post chapter 2 when yesterday I finished rewriting the last one XD. my brain is a mess.

What was going on with Bakugou?

The question haunted you for weeks, day and night, gnawing at the rational side of your brain. Partially, it was Bakugou’s fault. A representative of his PR team came forward to announce a sudden, temporary break from hero work one day after you had the wonderful opportunity of meeting him. However, no date of return was provided.

Temporary? More like indefinite hiatus.

Ever since, he hadn’t been spotted once, which left you vibrating with stress. You waited for your front door to be blasted to smithereens, either by him or some other pro hero, and be arrested. Irrational, really. Thanks to your best friend and the obsessive attention you put into your disguises, your work left no traces.

Still, restlessness defined your default mood, and maybe there was a tiny part of you worrying that added to it. You hated admitting it, but your subconscious pinged your instinct with impulses of something being wrong.

That was why you were out and about at an ungodly hour; curiosity had a way of turning you stupid like that.

Sweat slid down your back under the fitted long-sleeved black top you wore as you shook the dead phone in your hand under the flickering streetlights of Bakugou’s neighborhood in the wee hours of the night. Your stupidity apparently extended to basic things like charging your phone, and now you stood, looking every bit suspicious, racking your brain for the directions the GPS displayed before the screen blinked out.

If his intention when he had bought a house in this labyrinth was to piss off the potential villains who might’ve a bone to pick with him and force them to give up out of sheer frustration, then mission successful. Why you were still trying was unexplainable. Stubbornness, perhaps. One hell of a driver.

Pocketing your deceased phone, you scanned the vicinity again for any sign of life other than yourself, the one cute cat dozing off on top of a stone fence two houses behind you, and the pesky mosquitoes buzzing annoyingly overhead.

Nothing. No one. Completely empty.

You tugged on your cap and strutted forward, sending thoughts, prayers, and hopes to the celestial objects illuminating the rooftops that you were on the right path.

Eternity passed before you finally, finally found his house. Luckily for you, his show-off tendencies bled into everything. The sophisticated metal plaque, engraved with his family name, caught the moonlight like polished obsidian, therefore, your attention.

To your surprise, his house looked…normal. A two-story, medium-sized modern property in shades of gray, with black accents that you assumed were also metal from the way light glinted off them. Surrounded by a tall concrete fence that looked like granite, and a solid gate as the entrance. Gate that was ajar.

As you inspected the rest of the exterior for the security system, your stomach sank deeper with the same dreadful feeling you couldn’t shake off. The camera above the intercom was off. You knew it the same way you knew air consisted of more than just oxygen. Bakugou wasn’t this careless, was he? He’d double—no, triple-check the security, even if his wife had probably already done it. Right?

Your instinct itched with the urge to say ‘fuck it’ and rush in, but you suppressed it. Maybe this was just a coincidence. A malfunction of sorts. Verify, then act.

Crouching with your head low, you peeked through the gap in the gate. His car was in the driveway, parked diagonally as if the space wasn’t meant for two vehicles; no sign of his wife’s. You made a face at it. His fans called it aesthetic, and you agreed about the black matte paint, but what the hell were those bright orange crisscrossed tire rims? Were they supposed to create some fiery trail effect he’d never get to flaunt because one, he couldn’t tear through the city streets like a maniac, and two, on the highway, people were too busy stepping on the gas to care about a sports car speeding past them?

You rolled your eyes. At least his car being here confirmed he was home.

You scanned the quietness one last time and sneaked in, working with the blind angle of the street camera. As you closed the gate carefully, you took in the trimmed shrubbery, the well-kept grass, and the dusty stone path leading to the front door. Only for your eyes to narrow on the digital lock.

“Unlocked?” you muttered under your breath. This was becoming stranger by the second.

A shiver skated down your spine, tensing your body. Your gaze snapped to the second floor, searching for any sign of another presence that didn’t belong here, pulse quickening and caution fading into an afterthought.

Oh, fuck it. If you got caught, you’d figure out some story. In you went.

And out you wished to go. Your hand flew to your nose and pinched your nostrils to stop your stomach from flipping sideways. The stench reminded you of the dumpster in that alleyway. Was this a home or a pigsty?

Pigsty. Definitely a pigsty.

Blurry moonlight poured into the messy living room, cluttered with toys, takeout containers, haphazardly tossed couch pillows, and spills from who knew what. You steeled yourself for what you were about to do. Nausea swirled in your stomach like clothes in a washing machine as you inhaled the foul air, focusing on each distinct aroma. The relieved breath you exhaled when you detected not even the faintest trace of iron relaxed your whole body.

You didn’t dare look at the kitchen opposite the living room and prowled further toward the staircase, careful to keep your steps light and quiet. Your impulse should’ve been to turn around and get as far away as possible from this place, not delve deeper into the home of a pro hero who was out for your head.

If Yu knew, he’d be having a meltdown, you told the void in your head, shuddering at the imagined sound of your best friend grilling you for being reckless and stupid. Yes, you were a grade one idiot tonight. But he’d be proud to know you left your belongings at home, and your pockets held your motorcycle key and your discharged phone.

No. He wouldn’t be. Ayumu would buy you a ticket for the next rocket and shoot you into space himself so he wouldn’t have to see your pathetic, down-by-your-own-hand end.

Gentle light greeted you at the top of the stairs, inviting you through the open door at the end of the narrow hallway, yet driving your heart into your throat. Faster and faster it thumped as you approached the room. You pressed your back against the cool wall and peeked inside, blinking in disbelief at the state of it. Like the living room, this space—clearly belonging to Bakugou’s daughter, with its peach-colored walls and scattered small dresses over the plush carpet—was a mess too.

What the hell happened?

You didn’t try to answer that. Instead, you craned your neck for a better look, spotting both who you were looking for and who you weren’t. Bakugou leaned against the white crib, his head drooped to the side, eyes closed. Light snores escaped his slightly parted lips. Meanwhile, his daughter, Yua, was very much awake, tugging at the minty hair of a doll, her face scrunched in concentration.

For whatever reason, a sense of relief, stronger than the earlier one, washed over you.

He was okay, so was she. They both were.

Now that you confirmed that, it was time to go, but you found yourself rooted to the spot. Your eyes wandered to her, absorbing how she was the spitting image of him. As if sensing your presence, Yua tilted her head toward you, her blonde wavy hair cascading over her tiny shoulders, ruby red eyes locking onto yours.

You gasped at being caught. She let out a curious sound, and before you knew it, Yua crawled out of her dad’s lap, away from the safety of his arms, and stumbled toward you. Your muscles went rigid as your lungs expelled the rest of your air, leaving you fixated on the small person determined to interact with you, the intruder.

“Pretty,” she babbled, a bright smile blooming on her face. Tiny fingers latched onto your pants and tugged weakly.

Time stopped. You had no idea why. Her twinkling gaze seemed to trap you in the moment, mesmerize you.

Something in her innocent curiosity awakened something new within you. This feeling wasn’t one you’d experienced before, but felt oddly natural. Following that instinct, you knelt and offered her one of your rare, sincere smiles, hoping your intrusive presence didn’t register as danger to her. You didn’t want to scare her, or worse, traumatize her in any way.

In response, hers widened into a toothy grin, despite a few of her teeth weren’t fully grown yet.

She made an eager grab at you, losing her balance, and you instantly reached out, catching her in your arms. Before you could admonish yourself, a sleepy groan drew your attention.

Bakugou’s eyes slowly opened. “Huh? Yu…a?” They grew wide at the sight of you.

It all happened so fast.

He sprang from the floor at the same moment you tried to, slowed down by your prudence to not hurt Yua. Two steps out of the room were all you managed before he tackled you to the floor. Your shoulder took the brunt of the impact, forcing a pained groan from your mouth, which quickly turned into a choking sound as his hand wrapped around your throat in a vicious grip, while the other ripped your cap away.

“You? What the fuck are you doin’ in my house?” His tone dripped with pure acid.

“Ba—” Panic clawed up your throat. His strong thighs pinned your arms against your body, and you squirmed, gasping for air. “C-can’t…brea…the.”

His fingers squeezed your airway harder. Tears pricked your eyes, and for the first time in ages, you tasted the metallic flavor of fear. The violent storm in that fascinating gaze swallowed every flicker of clarity. This wasn’t Bakugou Katsuki—layered, human. This was something else. Primal. Feral. Rabid.

The ferocity choking you stirred your own.

“You want to kill me?” you rasped, voice barely recognizable. “G-go on, hero. Try.” A snarl tore from your throat as you bucked hard, hips straining to throw him off.

His fingers twitched. Yours too, but you dug your nails into the carpet, fighting to hold back your quirk. You didn’t trust your brain not to retaliate in a desperate bid to survive. But you trusted his would snap the fuck out.

“If you’re going t-to—” You wheezed, struggling under his steely strength. Fucking mountain didn’t budge an inch. “Do…it. Do it, you unhinged bastard!”

Between your fight for breath and the defiant taunt you threw him, something seemed to fracture his wild state. Bakugou gasped out a ‘fuck’ and ripped his hand from your throat, slamming it beside your head as his body hunched over yours, heaving.

You broke into a violent coughing fit, clutching your throat, pain pulsing like a thousand stabbing needles. That’d leave a bruise. Great. Fucking perfect. Bakugou’s handprint for a necklace, like a twisted wish coming true. Just your luck.

“Oi. You go—”

“Pa…pa?”

Yua’s confused voice froze you both. He paled, and you saw the exact moment it hit him what he’d be staring at if he hadn’t stopped—a corpse. Your corpse. Soul gone. Forever. And his daughter would’ve been the witness.

“I—Shit. Stay right there, Yua,” he snapped, his tone whipping at the lethal tension. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, you noticed, as they frantically searched your own. What now? they seemed to silently ask.

Did he seriously expect a kid that full of curiosity to actually listen?

Lucky him, you were the one he nearly ended with his bare hands. He’d have a fun time if it were someone else.

Biting back a wince, you croaked. “Nothing h-happened here. Absolutely…nothing. Understood?” You shot him a glare, pretending you weren’t one breath away from another coughing fit. “Now, get—get off.”

Your words moved him like a puppeteer’s string. Bakugou wobbled to his feet, but not before grabbing your waist and hauling you up with him. Body to body, you felt him tremble from the shock, his heart doing worrisome things in his chest. It raced too fast, agitating your own.

“You good? Let me—”

You slapped his hand away and grimaced. “When was the last time you showered? I might’ve survived that, but I’m not surviving this. You stink.”

If your nose hairs didn’t shrivel and fall off by the end of this, it’d be a miracle.

After nearly getting killed, anyone else’s brain would’ve reset to a smarter mode—look for a way out, not a reason to stay. But you had questions, and Bakugou had the answers. Which he vehemently refused to give…until you flashed a sweet smile and suggested he give you the deepest bow and apologize for choking the soul out of you.

One thing led to another, and next thing you knew, you were handing him your bike key and dead phone as leverage that you meant no harm. You learned fast that his version of trust your enemy involved handcuffing said enemy and keeping them as close as possible.

Enemies might not have been the only ones he’d cuffed before, though, judging by the red, feathery lining on the leather binding your wrists to the metal bar above the blurry shower glass wall.

No surprise, the bastard was into infernal showers, but he could’ve dialed it down a bit. The air boiled, making you sweat through every fiber of your clothes, while your lungs burned through your energy resources to keep you breathing. You were positively trapped and suffocating, but at least his shampoo smelled good. Something citric.

Your forehead fell against the shower glass, eyes squeezing shut, as you desperately tried to erase the outline of his naked body from your brain. He was driving you places he shouldn’t, and as much as you liked your denial, your body didn’t care for it.

“Can you hurry up?” you shouted over the loud water stream. “If your wife shows up and finds us like this, we’re both screwed.”

“Huh?!” he yelled back. "The hell you tryin' to talk to me for? Told you to zip it!"

“If you think I want to talk with a butt naked guy with obvious anger issues, you’re delusional. But I have no choice. My face plastered next to yours is a big no-no in my book.”

The shower door was yanked open, almost flying off its hinges. Bakugou’s head peeked out, and you shot him an unimpressed look, even as your mind took notes on his hair—matted on top, dripping with the fattest globs of water. It must have been thick.

You wanted to smack yourself when an image of something else that could fit that description surfaced in your mind.

“Oxygen reachin’ your brain? Got proof you broke in.”

You didn’t think his wife would care about that when her husband was naked, showering like it was no one’s business, with the intruder handcuffed, getting a splendid view of things meant for her eyes only.

“Not sorry to ruin it for you, but your security system is off.”

“You turned the security off?! Got a death wish or something?”

“No to the first, maybe to the second. Are you going to grant it, naked genie?”

His snarl filled the steamy air, and you couldn’t tell if you were still in a bathroom or a cave inhabited by a feral animal. He slammed the glass door shut, growled some more, and then cursed when the bottle he picked up fell from his hand.

You laughed. That bottle might as well have been his brain packing up and leaving his skull.

“Shut it, pain in my ass!” he barked, and a foamy loofah sailed over your head, splatting somewhere behind you.

“What are you, five?” Your face twisted into disgust as dying bubbles slid down your temple. Of course, in its flight, it dripped on you. Why would you be spared?

“That’s still older than you.”

“No wonder you’re dropping in the rankings regularly,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “Petty brat.”

His reaction was as explosive as his general attitude. He turned off the water and swung open the door, stepping out. “Wanna say that to my damn face?”

Water dripped everywhere, and your eyes widened comically at his naked form. Your eyes screwed shut. For someone strict with his private life, he sure was shameless with a stranger.

“Hah, goin’ shy on me?” he mocked.

“Put some clothes on! This is inappropriate!”

“Yeah?” You felt him move closer, forcing you back up as much as the handcuffs allowed. “You were eyein’ my ass earlier. How’s that appropriate?”

“I wasn’t—” Your eyes snapped open, instantly regretting it. “Eyeing your…ass.”

One arm braced against the shower wall, Bakugou stared at you, something hotter than the current room temperature burning in his glare. He was too close. So close, your instinct was to step back, yet you couldn’t focus on anything other than the glistening water drops trailing down his neck, over his pulse, lower to his chest. They dissolved against the scar.

The scar…

Bakugou Katsuki is dead? That can’t be. It’s not true, right?

The voice of a younger you echoed in your head before a fragment of the memory rolled through. You, latched onto the pro hero’s arm, stopping him from doing his job. At the time, it was to guide everyone further into the safety of U.A. Surprise and suspicion created deep lines on his expression as his hand slowly dropped from his earpiece.

“What are you doin’?” Bakugou asked as you moved closer, head tilted, listening. Thump, thump, thump. Faint to your sensitive ears, but unmistakably there.

His heartbeat.

He was alive.

“Oi!”

You jerked back. “What?”

“I asked you what the hell you doin’.”

One shoulder raised, you replied. “Debating if I should headbutt you or not. Maybe it’ll knock some sense into you. Who stands naked before a stranger?”

“Stranger, she says,” he scoffed, brushing past you. “That what you tell yourself to sleep at night?”

Your lips pressed together, a wisp of guilt taunting your heart. He had been the last thing you thought of. Or, at least, that had been the case before meeting him in flesh and bone. One time was enough to unintentionally make space for him in your everyday thoughts.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, feeling less brave, less bold, less everything.

“Checkin’ my ass again, pervert?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, though there wasn’t much bite to it. “What’s there to check?” Still, your eyes betrayed you, gliding over the expanse of his muscled back and down to his clothed ass. “I’ve seen better.”

“Hah?!” Bakugou whipped around, clearly offended. His protests were mostly lost on you; the generous view of his V-line was far more captivating. He didn’t bother to pull his sweat shorts higher on his hips.

No, damn it.

Your moral compass had its faults, but lusting, even a little bit, over a married guy, especially this married guy, couldn’t be one of them. Appreciating his physique, strictly from an aesthetic perspective, was fine, but not the sinful ideas percolating your system.

“You listenin’ to me? Hey!” His fingers snapped in front of your face. “Pay attention before I leave you in here.”

“No, you won’t. How are you going to explain to your wife—”

“That bitch ain’t gonna show up,” he snapped. Your brows furrowed in confusion at the name-calling. His tongue clicked in irritation. “Don’t play dumb. You heard my phone conversation.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You paused, unsure of what to say. “Uh…sorry to hear? Are you okay?”

His silence unnerved you as much as his intense attention on you. Reaching behind him for a tank top, the shameless bastard took his sweet time lowering the material over his ripped abs. By the time he was done, your heart pounded to a dizzying rhythm. You hated him for it, and the effect he had on your body.

“I’m keepin’ your shit,” he suddenly stated and moved to stand before you. His arm raised, so did your head to watch his fingers slip under the chain of the handcuffs. Smoke curled around them, then a sudden pop rang in the misty air. “Tomorrow. Nine p.m. Your ass better be at my front door.”

“No. Why would—What are you doing?!”

He hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and strode out of the bathroom. You were about to smack his back when he forced you into silent submission with only a few words.

“About earlier. There ain’t an excuse for what I’ve done,” he said. “Don’t forgive me.”

His remorse, a blade stabbing your heart, sharp tip lodged in a spot long buried beneath a pile of impossibilities and secrets. It cracked. Spilling pieces of what you had buried into the present, feeding the cruelty of reality.

“I broke in. You reacted. That makes us even,” you said, propping yourself up on one elbow to glare at the top of his head. “I don’t want to see you again. So give me back my stuff.”

Silence.

Bakugou swung the front door open and dropped you to your feet, shoving you outside. The door slammed shut in your face.

“You’re kidding. Bakugou!” Your fist slammed the metal surface. Once. Twice. Anger surged through your veins, a scream clawing its way up your throat, but the risk of waking the neighborhood forced it back down. “Open the damn door and give me back my stuff!” You jiggled the doorknob. “I know you’re there. I can sense you.”

Something slammed against the other side, hard enough to rattle the door frame.

“No. Piss off.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you give it back.”

“Couldn’t care less. Stay and see what happens. Cameras are back on. Know what that means?” A pause. “I’ve got proof of your pestering.”

“God, you’re such an annoying, stubborn fucking jerk,” you whined, frustrated beyond belief with his attitude. “What are you going to do? Call the police?”

“Wanna try me? Huh?!”

Growling, you struck the door again. “Go ahead! I’ll spin one hell of a story. Like how I’m your mistress. I’ve got proof, too—these stupid handcuffs your goofy brain forgot to take off. Bet they’ll have a field day spreading gossip about our scandalous, kinky affair.”

“Like I give a fuck.” His voice grew more distant. “Tell ‘em the reason you’re now hysterical at my door while you’re at it. Dick’s so good you can’t take rejection.”

You choked on your spit and sputtered. The audacity. “D-dick? What dick? Yours? Where?” When no retort came, you pressed your ear to the door and listened, hearing nothing. “Did he seriously leave me here?”

Several minutes later, you realized that yes, he absolutely did. Bakugou dumped and ditched you in front of his house, leaving you with nothing but the option to walk away and the cursed knowledge that you’d have to come back tomorrow.

Was this the price for your stupidity? Forced to see his smug face and breathe the same air again?

What was it they said? Third time was the charm?

You buried your head in your hands and let out a muffled, pitiful scream.

Screw your luck.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #female reader #dee writes #dee's: truth exposer series #truth exposer 1: uncovered

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bookworm105616 · 4 months ago

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Something something Chase and Cameron were only interested in each other because they both wanted to fuck House and the closest they could get was screwing each other

#also mutual attraction or whatever #I think Chase is jealous of Cameron for being able to claim her attraction to house while he cannot #their relationship is defined by their relationships with House #house md #allison cameron #robert chase #gregory house #hate crimes md #corywrites

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harbingersecho · 11 months ago

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are we the sins we have committed? are we the things we have endured? [...] who are we?

[ref]

#iwtv #iwtv amc #interview with the vampire #loumand #louis de pointe du lac #vampterview #armand #louis #ldpdl #iwtv spoilers #mine #*24 #its gonna be so joever soon its the eye of the hurricane rn #when u both are defined by your relationships to others and find a role and a purpose in them. the brother the lover the leader. OK.#if i have identity issues and YOU have identity issues... who's steering the relationship?? its still armand but at least they can pretend #sorryyy i'll stop posting abt this show soon. or at least for a little while. maybe. probably. add pensive face with its ass out emoji here #1 funny thing abt ep3 was that when they started talking abt good and evil i laughed out loud and said can we get fucking sartre in here #jesus christ. and then sartre was sitting right there and schooled them + told them to stfu. gagged me a bit ngl #also something something hell is other people we are trapped by others' perceptions of us their judgement enters our knowledge of ourselves #you get it. im gonna go build weird houses in ts4. goodbye

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theradiodaemon · 1 day ago

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Hey @brycesbott0m ! Thanks for the tag! I always love doing these! See below for a lil glimpse into meeee 😊😊😊

Girls or Guys: I’m bisexual so…both! (Why pick? lol) Though I am in a loving, committed relationship with my partner @larryisnotagirl 🥰

Indoors or Outdoors? : I will go outdoors insofar as walking or driving somewhere that leads to another indoor-type setting :P

Pizza or Hotdogs?: As with the guys or girls question .. both! (Seriously why pick..? )

Live a long and angry life or a short and happy one? : It depends on how you define ‘angry’ - if you’re passionate about something and that passion translates to heated exchanges once in a while, I say go for it and live it up! Regardless, this world is too beautiful with too many amazing things in it to ever want to cut the one life we get short! (I know sometimes.. especially these days it’s hard to see the beautiful, amazing things in life but they’re still there! 🥰)

Writing or reading? : Again, both! (Stop making me choose lol 😝) I love anime and Manga so I often read manga in my spare time lol

Video Games or Homework? : Haven’t been in school for a long, long time so def video games! (You’ll never beat me at Mario kart.. I dare you) #bringitonin150CC

Haunted house or Tiny Shack? : Sometimes tiny shacks can be haunted.. 😱 but I guess I wouldn’t want to be in a tiny shack.. too close to being outdoors so.. I guess full-size haunted house!

Be Murdered or Murder? : …who wrote these questions? :P Please refer to my earlier statement about NOT cutting life short so.. murder? (Not admitting anything here btw! lol) #doesnt count if they can’t find the bodies

Cats or Dogs? : I own both! lol :P

Be gay or be slay? : 100% both for sure ;) - I still feel I slay as a bi-guy tho!

Puke whenever you eat or scream whenever you eat? : why is this a question Bill Cipher would ask? lol I’d want to scream just because I’d love the attention lmao no j/k but it’s better than cleaning up the puke.

Have chapped lips or an annoying ex? : I have more than a few annoying ex’s lol so I guess the choice has been made for me :P

Tall or Short? : I’m 6’3”, I’ll never be a short guy lol.

This was fun! Thanks! :)

Here’s a few people who’d I’d LOVE to see their answers:

@neurospiczzzziee @blitzbittz @larryisnotagirl @blitzwhore @amalthea-13

MEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWw

answer dese questions and reblog below :3

Girls or guys

indoorss or outdoors

Pizza or hotdogs

live a long and angry life or live a short and happy one

writing or reading

video games or homework

haunted house or tiny shack

be murdered or murder :3

cats or dogs

be gay or be slay (you better fucking say both)

puke whenever u eat or scream whenever u eat

have chapped lips or have an annoying ex

tall or short :3

follow me or die :3 (not a question ^^)

NOW DO IT

@kage-meows-around, @xking-george-iiix, @eroswmorals, @itzay0910, @sugwrpwzz, @theradiodaemon, @twilightowl

#this was fun #a little bit of me but still gotta maintain SOME mystery :)

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bietrofastimoff23 · 7 months ago

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Gwaynston soulmates au, where are they… not soulmates. the universe didn't choose them for each other. none of them blindly dissolves into the other, their characters do not fit perfectly, like a folded puzzle, they do not have a special connection in which they understand each other without words, their experiences are different and their worldviews are not identical. but despite a lot of squabbles and misunderstandings at the beginning, they continue to stick together, they make efforts to make it work. This is not like a linear journey where there is a clear exposition-beginning-culmination-end. It is a winding path with many potholes on the road. but the love that fills their hearts, the realization that they are someone's priority, the sense that they are not alone in this world and the desire to share every moment with this person and no one else, makes all the hard work they do worthwhile. because the universe didn't choose them for each other, but they did.

#No it's far from sad if it seemed that way #they are simply deprived of cheat codes and forced to work as if in a realistic relationship (it is)#and this only makes their bond stronger because it was their conscious choice #the relationship of two mature people who do not want the past to define their common present #Because I think Criston might have had a sad experience with a soulmate.#Gwayne looks like someone who has never believed in this concept secretly worried that he did not meet his own #They start out as forced allies who have looked at each other and decided that they want to fight for it #Gwayne learns to give in #and Criston who always sacrifices himself for the interests of others learns to accept and put himself in an equal position #(because excessive sacrifice also tends to spill over into toxicity)#gwayston #gwaynston #criston x gwayne #gwayne hightower #criston cole #hotd #house of the dragon #my post

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raven-master · 4 months ago

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When you figure out have to characterise Gale Dekarios without getting a headache lmk

honestly soothing to know this is a Universal Experience

#gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #oakweave #I think it's also when you put him next to Halsin that it becomes so much harder #because a lot of popular fic including Gale is Bloodweave and then you can easily fall back onto a bouba/kiki dynamic #but these two are some bouba/bouba motherfuckers #so you have to define them beyond that but ALSO beyond their magical capabilities #because both of their characters are so rooted in having a complicated relationship with being defined by their abilities #while at the same time allowing them to be coloured by their experiences?#which is INSANE because I don't have a 17 intelligence!!!!#I'm not even a native speaker!!! how the fuck am I supposed to emulate Gale's speech pattern in a SECOND LANGUAGE smh #at least halsin has the fucking decency to have an 8 intelligence. thank you good sir #but yeah no this rarepair is a puzzle that I cannot figure out #compels me though #(in other words I've veeerrrrry slowly been working on something while procrastinating all the cleaning I have to do in my house)#(it is deeply self-indulgent and so far Gale has been Entirely Too Quiet to be in character)#(and honestly? I am going to try and Care Less because hey man. come on.)#(do try to let your hobbies be FUN)#flipcitrus #sorry i forgot to tag you i am Bad at Tagging

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2189114reads · 1 month ago

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Finished house of leaves Feeling abnormal

#All that material is so so clear on what was a layer more obscured in the actual book #Like the quotes section to me was just defining the major thematic symbols of the novel and their relationships to each other so incredibly #clearly #Wow!!!!!!!#What a broad and beautifully done conceptual piece and oh how neverending fun the presentation of it #Wow. Wow. Wow. Woah. Waow.#house of leaves #read

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lachicavoltron333 · 2 months ago

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Not this messy ass friends saying that Ash and Hazel had a bond, in His NEW. PARTNERS. HOUSE.

#define the relationship #bitch lyle is better than me #i would have thrown this group out of the damm house #especially the one who keeps bringing hazel up #AGAIN #there better be a good reason for Ash to not bring up his ex to lyle #also why is hazel so desperate to get ash number #and why hasn't ash managed to put two and two together that lyle already knows about his ex #well were just gonna have to find out #beyaz talks #manwha #bl manhwa #beyaz speaks

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orangeearlgray · 1 year ago

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Me when I think my dad is cool and admirable

#the previous earl lost the game lol #like i think if ciel's dad came back from the dead instead of ciel prime that ciel would have the same im the earl reaction #i don't have a reading of this narrative at all that he's trying to be his dad or wants sebastian to be his dad bc number one i think...#...vincent only looks like sebastian bc that's yana's art style and number two it also gets on my nerves the really fandom-y brain to...#...assign found family into actual nuclear family roles. when ciel's whole house now is made up of relationships that are really only...#...defined by how much they all love each other. it's the opposite of what his life was like before where he was stuck in like. an older...#...brother does this and marries this and the watchdog does this and rich people are expected to be like this and a family is a nuclear...#...kind of family unit and that's honestly what caused madam red and ciel and ciel prime a lot of their problems pre fire #now instead the people in ciel's house care about their roles as maid and gardener and chef etc only insofar as playing that role is a...#...way to have freedom for them and it's a way to do things for ciel only bc they love him. not that vincent and rachel completely sucked...#...and didn't love their kids but it was the opposite of ciel's situation now and uh i don't think he wants it back or to recreate it #i think he sees his parents and the midfords as sheep just like of the rest of the rich people he complains about #it's a category 10 albert moriarty situation #he was raised in it so he understands just how destructive these expectations are madam red had the exact problems with the expectation...#...she should get married and have kids when i don't think she particularly wanted that to the point she had to convince herself she did...#...even though it felt unnatural to her and i think that's why she was so attached to the idea of vincent but anyway comphet madam red...#...different post i have already made somewhere probably #it's the same deal for ciel i think he thinks the way the rich people govern their lives is stupid and sebastian has both spoiled him and...#...made him feel like he's above all that and honestly that mindset genuinely informs a lot of this arc and the sheep motif #kuroshitsuji #my kuro posts #ciel

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the--highlanders · 1 year ago

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honestly I feel like I should apologise to the writer of the phantom piper. sorry king your audio rewired my brain & now I'm trying to rewrite it ✌️

#personal #mr martin day sir please never open tumblr. or ao3.#your probably-unintentional implications about jamie's family dynamics are woven into my bones.#what do you mean you think a blackhouse has a bedroom door.#if you had set this explicitly in season 6b the character depth could be so much more.#why did you give jamie a vague heterosexuality moment and then describe him cradling the body of his dying best friend in his arms.#why do you think highland people in the 1700s housed their animals in barns separate from their houses.#please define a wise woman in the context of 18th century gaelic culture and beliefs.#given jamie's mistrust of authority isn't it horrifying that he's now so unconcerned about having his mind altered. can we explore that.#jamie's relationship with his grandmother sits inside my heart always. i am transfixed by the utter absence of his father in this audio.#etc etc etc etc

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just-a-little-unionoid · 4 months ago

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for a few years now I've been plagued with the knowledge that my dad's coworker is a fascinating person enough that you could probably make an interesting TV show based on him

and while that may seems cool the problem resides in the fact that there would also have to be a character based on my dad and I just know y'all would ship them

#i know that because from an outside pov im sure their relationship looks like house and wilson #my dad is probably the only person who can somehow tolerate him on the long run #he's the one person the guy sort of trust for real when it comes to the job #their life have been intertwined since they were teenagers #my dad needs vacations every time he works with him for two weeks in a row #i asked him once how he would define their relationship and i think he told me he didn't know???#*i* know/knew the guy's parents like I've been to their house more than once #i just know a show focused on this guy would have their relationship so fucking ambiguous #i swear the guy is fascinating and his job is cool enough and like... already in a format compatible with a series? if that makes sense?#and i would *love* to watch a show about this job it's so interesting my dad has the best work anecdotes and stories #the only thing refraining me from actually wanting this show to exist is the knowledge i would have to read fanfics #of a character i would know being my dad

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sp0o0kylights · 2 months ago

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Steve Harrington, who has a very “in name only” relationship with his parents, the people who claim they love him lots but have simply given him cash for his last six birthdays without bothering to send a card.

Steven Harrington, who lost his connection to the only adults in his life who actually parented him when he had his final fight with Tommy and Carol-- not that they ever really did that much. Having an adult put a bandaid on his knee and complimenting him for being tough was plenty enough.

Steve Harrington, who drove Dustin and co. to the Byers house that one Christmas and was told by Hopper not to come in; that Joyce was still mad at him about the ‘demodog in the fridge’ and figured his exclusion was fair--it wasn’t like Hopper actually liked him. Joyce certainly had no reason to. It wasn’t like he was doing anything for Christmas anyways.

Steve Harrington, who is fairly certain Robin’s parents have clocked her as queer but who still treats him in that careful way many parents do when he’s hanging around their daughter. There’s a barrier there, in the way of firm handshakes and “get her back safe”’s that keep things formal. (It’s never bothered him before, and he swears it doesn’t bother him now.)

Steve Harrington, whose relationships with adults are defined by words like “networking”, “proper connections”, “favors”, and “finances”, who has at best been treated like a miniature version of his father and at worst as a spoilt moron, who encounters Wayne Munson and has no idea what to do with the man.

Wayne Munson, who asks him actual questions about his life. Who asks him to watch the game with him. Who calls him “boy” and “son” in ways that sound affectionate and not frustrated. Wayne, who shoos him away from the dishes and compliments his cooking, who has invited Steve over when Eddie isn’t even home.

Steve Harrington, who keeps apologizing to Eddie because “I’m not trying to steal your Uncle man, I promise.” and doesn’t believe Eddie when the latter just laughs at him.

(“You can’t steal Wayne, Steve.” Eddie says with a snicker, when he finally figures out what Steve is apologizing for. The guy apologizes a lot for things that make no sense, it’s a bad habit Eddie’s working on him with. “Though I do believe he has been trying to steal you.”

“Oh.” This does not relieve Steve. In fact, this seems to make him more nervous looking, which Eddie does not want.

“I uh. I don’t want to come between you guys so I guess we can just hang at my house…?” The voice he trails off with is downright painful for Eddie to hear, and he’s already slashing his hand in the air in a wild ‘No’ before Steve can even finish speaking.

“Dude you’re fine. I’m glad you guys are getting along! Wayne needs someone to talk sportsball with and clearly so do you because you keep trying to talk about it to anyone who will listen.”

“I guess if you’re alright with it…”)

Steve Harrington, who allows himself to be adopted by the Munsons much in the way a feral cat lets itself become domesticated, and who starts looking at Wayne like the man hung the moon.

Wayne Munson, who is referred to by Steve as “Dad” exactly once, and feels so fucking happy about it he misses the panic attack Eddie has to talk Steve through.

He also misses that that is the moment when Steve accidentally confesses his feelings to Eddie in the Munson’s (new) cramped bathroom, on grounds that “I can’t date you and also call Wayne dad like that, that’s weird! Isn’t that weird!? It feels weird!”

(“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, trying not to smile and failing entirely. “I get what you’re saying, but I think in your panic you missed something kinda key, there.”)

Steve Harrington, who gets himself an entire family in the end (and gets to both call Wayne “dad” and Eddie as his boyfriend, without issue, because “we’re not related babe, you can call your inlaw whatever you want.”

“Now who's skipping steps? When did we get married?”

“The very second it’s legal, that’s when.”)

--and has never been happier in his life.

#I've been poking at small town rumors #trying to get Wayne to come through #fucking grumpy ass old men are so hard to write #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

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thehmn · 11 months ago

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I wanted to make this post because we don��t see a lot of asexual characters in western media and despite him being from a hugely popular show (Seaside Hotel) you’re unlikely to know of his existence if you’re not from Denmark.

His name is Hjalmar Aurland and he’s one of the more sympathetic and realistic asexual characters I’ve seen. He lives in a time and place where asexuality as a concept doesn’t exist yet so he’s never labeled as such but rewatching the show made me realize that he acts exactly like the asexual people I personally know. Asexuality can mean a lot of things but his specific brand isn’t naive to sex nor is he repulsed by sex, sexual desire or thoughts simply doesn’t come naturally to him.

He can be convinced to have sex with his wife Helene but only if she appeals to their emotional bond. Just so you don’t get the wrong idea, he’s not being forced or emotionally blackmailed to sleep with her. It’s simply that he understands sex is a way to show emotional love too and he wants to express that love for Helene when it’s important to her, and seeing as sex isn’t unpleasant to him, just kinda boring, he’s willing to do that for her.

Unfortunately that isn’t enough for Helene and despite her love for Hjalmar she starts an affair with the dramatic and emotional actor Edward Weyse. He has a string of relationships, marriages and divorces behind him because despite what it may look like from the outside Edward doesn’t really want shallow sexual relationships. He just can’t help himself and keep falling in love with women left and right, fully and wholeheartedly, only to be dumped or dump them once the initial excitement has passed.

So Helene and Edward’s affair that was only meant to satisfy their carnal desires quickly becomes romantic. Helene feels torn between him and Hjalmar who she still loves and Edward understands the difficult situation they’re both in while also feeling jealous of Hjalmar. And Hjalmar? He doesn’t catch on for years. He’s not stupid but his brain just doesn’t jump to sex. He just assumes they’re good friends and why shouldn’t his wife be allowed to have friends, even male ones? Things get really complicated when Helene gets pregnant and she has to have sex with Hjalmar so he won’t wonder how it happened. Edward even has to join in on the seduction, reminding Hjalmar how much Helene loves him, even though it breaks Edward’s heart to do so.

But like I’ve said Hjalmar isn’t stupid. He saw the signs but chose to ignore them until one night when Helene accidentally says Edward’s name. It breaks the dam in Hjalmar’s denial and he has to face that deep down he always knew. Overcome by sadness and betrayal he wanders off into the night in nothing but his nightgown and gets a room at a different hotel where he can think in peace. Eventually he agrees to return to the first hotel with Helene and Edward and decides to take control of the situation.

He sits them both down and tells them that he understands that the three of them share a bond and that there are things he can’t really do for Helene so from now on he wants their relationship to be open and honest. He wants Helene and Edward to keep seeing each other and Edward is welcome in their house, but Hjalmar wants to be allowed to call Edward by his first name and makes it very clear that Helene and Edward’s children “belong to him” because he still thinks of himself as their dad and loves them as his own children. Both Helene and Edward agrees to it, though the emotional Edward is very flustered and confused by the acceptance and love he’s being shown by Hjalmar.

This is obviously a very tv drama situation but I was so stuck by how much Hjalmar acts like my asexual friends. Having a lover for your partner isn’t the most common solution but it’s an idea I’ve heard a lot of asexual people be open to under the right circumstances and of course that’s the most dramatic solution for a romantic tv drama.

Hjalmar is defined by so much more than his sexuality though. His main characteristic is his passion for social justice and equality, and other than some early show weirdness before they really cemented the characters, Hjamler is the only character who floats freely between the men and women. He’s just as likely to sit with the men as he is the women, often appearing in otherwise entirely female spaces. It’s never questioned or even brought up, not because he’s a “safe asexual” but because he cares and think their worries are as important as the men’s. He’s often called a pessimist by the other men when in reality he is determined to be hopeful and compassionate and spread the love he feels the world is lacking as WWII draws closer.

So yeah, I just wanted to share this sweet ace guy with you because you probably wouldn’t have known about him otherwise.

#asexual #polyamory #hjalmar aurland #badehotellet #beach hotel #long post

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osaemu · 2 years ago

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GOJO SATORU: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and look for revenge, and you get it by fucking his dad! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. age gap, blowjob, praise, degradation, use of slut, slight dumbification, dirty talk, and possibly more. 2.6K words.

you should've known that dating a rich boy came with more than just the money—it came with a shitty boyfriend too.

as you walk to his house, rain falling in your eyes, you curse every time he had you do his homework, his bills, even his fucking laundry. that's what you get for dating the spoiled heir to the massive gojo fortune.

you step onto the gojo estate's porch, wondering what possessed you to come all the way here in the middle of the night without an umbrella. thank god you still had the key your ex had given you, since he was too stupid to remember to take it back after he dumped you.

hands shaking from the cold, you slip the key into the lock and turn, a small smile dancing across your lips when it opens as easily as your ex's legs. he was probably out fucking another girl right now, if the pictures on his instagram story were any hint of his whereabouts.

you push the door open with your shoulder and dry your feet on the doormat. his parents are never home, and it's late enough for the staff to have all gone back to their quarters. besides, even if one or two were still here, they probably didn't know you weren't their spoiled brat's girlfriend anymore.

humming the post-breakup revenge song you'd been listening to for the past hour, you tie up your hair and look around. the only reason you walked all the way here in the middle of a dark, stormy night was for revenge, and you weren't leaving without it.

on the way to your ex's room, you stop in one of the bathrooms to dry off. rainwater slides off your body as you wring out your hair in the sink, water dripping down your wrist as you do so.

you walk the familiar path to your ex's room, rolling your eyes when you see a bra on the floor that definitely isn't yours. funnily enough, you aren't surprised. there's no hurt, no sadness, just disgust. your suspicions were right—he was fucking other girls while the two of you dated.

a sigh slips through your lips as you look around his room. it's messy, even with the help from the gojo estate's numerous staff. they say bigger rooms naturally look cleaner, and yet your ex's room still manages to mirror his mind—filthy.

you're so immersed in the thousand ideas you have to ruin your ex's life that when a deep, sleep-ridden voice asks you what the fuck you're doing in his house, you nearly jump out of your skin.

you spin around, words caught in your throat when you come face-to-face with satoru gojo, your ex-boyfriend's dad and the infamous head of the gojo family.

it's more than shameful that the first thought you have is that shit, he's hot. you've met before, but it was only in passing. satoru's never around, and the extent of your relationship was a brief nod as he passed you in one of the many passageways in the gojo estate. in fact, you aren't entirely sure if he even knows who you are.

satoru gojo's well-known in japan—not only is he the reason the gojo family has its reputation, but he's made quite a name for himself by being the most affluent and handsome of them all.

you've heard stories about him back in his prime. most sound too far-fetched to be true, but the photos of him in his twenties that resurface from time-to-time make good material for your late-night fantasies.

and satoru's even more intimidating in person. he's easily over six feet tall with well-defined muscles, and he's the definition of a dilf. he's probably twice your age, but the glint in his eyes and casual arrogance in his stance makes him all the more attractive.

it's a shame his son is such a dickhead.

"are you one of my son's whores?" satoru asks dryly, eying the bra on the floor. you scowl and kick it away, a soft huff slipping through your lips.

"no, i'm— wait, he never told you?" you cut yourself off with the question, a hint of incredulous disbelief in your tone.

satoru shrugs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. his shirt slides up just enough to expose his abs, which are really fucking hot by any standards. "if you're asking about my son, he thankfully leaves me out of his sex life," he says amusedly. "so, who are you? and what the hell are you doing in my house this late?"

"i—" well, you couldn't just say you were here to ruin his son's life. "uh, i'm his... girlfriend."

satoru barks out a laugh, looking down at you through his long, white eyelashes. "really? you sure you're dating my son?"

you narrow your eyes and nod. satoru shakes his head, slipping one of his hands in his pocket and gesturing to the bra on the floor with the other. "either you aren't his girlfriend or you just found out he's cheating. which is it?"

well, you tried. "both." satoru raises his eyebrows at that and takes a seat on the chair across from his son's bed, exhaling as he does so.

"so, sweetheart, what's the story?" he asks, a bored expression on his face. he leans back and spreads his legs enough for you to wonder what it'd be like to be in between them.

not sensing that you really have a choice, you sit on the corner of his son's bed and start explaining. at first, you sugarcoat his son's actions, not wanting to sound like a whiny brat, but at one point he interjects with a sigh.

"i know my son," he says dryly, brushing his floppy white hair out of his eyes. "and i also know a liar when i see one."

"s' that so?" you mutter under your breath, ignoring the way satoru's eyes narrow at your side comment. from then on, you list every detail of just how shitty your ex was to you. you tell satoru how his son made you fold his clothes, how he dragged you to parties even when you swore you had homework, how he'd make you fu—

you stop there, not wanting to divulge every detail of your sex life. sure, your ex forced you to fuck him every night in every way he knew existed from watching porn, but that wasn't for his dad to know.

satoru, who's been listening intently for the last five minutes, studies your irritated expression thoughtfully. rather than comment on the way you suddenly stopped ranting, he asks, "so you're here for revenge?"

you nod, crossing your legs. satoru eyes you for another second before placing his hands on his knees and standing up with a soft grunt. "do whatever you want, but i want you out of my house in fifteen minutes. and whatever you do stays in this room. no fire."

satoru looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "is that clear?"

it would be easier to agree if satoru wasn't looking down at you with an expression like that on his face. it's somewhere between mild irritation and disgust—whether it's directed at you or his son, you're not sure, but he probably has better things to do than listen to some girl's breakup story. so you nod, and satoru starts to leave.

just before he steps out the door, you think of a really fucking insane idea—one that would absolutely shatter your ex. and for some reason, you say it out loud.

"you should fuck me."

oh my god.

satoru turns around slowly, hand clenched around his phone. "the fuck?"

you swallow, eyes wide and a stupid grin plastered on your face. "shit, i—" you were ready to apologize for just about every word you've ever said, but satoru holds up his hand before you can start, cutting you off.

he scoffs, blue eyes glimmering with either amusement or annoyance. "you really are a piece of work, aren't ya?" satoru narrows his eyes, surveying you critically. his gaze settles on the way your shaky hands, and you hide them behind your back self consciously.

"you want me to fuck you on my son's bed?" he says dryly, stifling a laugh. when you force yourself to nod, he grins. "not bad, sweetheart. not bad at all."

"i-is that a yes?" you hate yourself for stuttering, but it makes satoru laugh.

"sure, why not?" he says, walking over to where you're still sitting on his son's bed and resting a hand on your shoulder. satoru rubs the side of your neck with his thumb, cerulean eyes fixed on your lips. "might be about time to teach my son a lesson anyways."

satoru's agreement surprises you enough to make your mouth fall open, and soon enough, his dick replaces the empty space between your lips.

"shit, you're takin' me so good, baby," satoru groans, hand tangled in your hair as he pushes his dick deeper into your throat. "yeah, that's it, jus' like tha— fuck," he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh as you nearly choke.

he's big, way bigger than your ex, and you wonder how his dad's big dick gene skipped him. and even better, satoru's skilled too. he knows how to fuck you good, and you can tell that it's from experience, not from watching porn—unlike his lame excuse of a son.

"tell me, sweetheart," satoru drawls, looking down at you with a cheeky smile. "was my son half as good as i am in bed?"

when you shake your head no, satoru clicks his tongue in disapproval. "shit, now y're gonna expect every guy you fuck with to be as good as me. well, sorry 'bout that, because they aren't."

at least you know where his son gets his arrogance from.

it's getting a little hard to breathe, especially since you have ten inches of dick shoved down your throat. despite all satoru's talk, you can tell that he's getting close to cumming down your throat—his eyes are twitching and his breaths are starting to become more and more shaky as you suck him off. soon enough, the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, cursing and praising you as he does. satoru's grip on your hair tightens, and it's borderline painful as he tugs you deeper by the hair.

"shit, that was the best head i've had in a while," he groans after his breathing starts to go back to normal. satoru grins at you, shaking his head and pinning you on your back on the bed.

"you've already been fucked by a gojo here, haven't you?" satoru cooes, tracing your jawline with one of his fingers. "tch, i'll fuck you better than my shithead son ever could. show ya the reason we gojos have a reputation for our dicks."

and fuck, he does. after quickly making you cum on his fingers with the excuse of loosening you up, he roughly shoves his dick in your already-throbbing pussy with a grin. he's so fucking big that you've convinced he's gonna rip you in half.

"g-gojo, i can't—"

"sure y'can," he cuts you off, jaw tightening as you tighten around him. "fuckin' hell, you're just tight as a virgin. my son must be shit in bed, yeah?"

"mhm," you hum, tilting back your head and gasping for air as you feel your body heat up. "shit— right there—"

satoru grins, dipping his head and meeting your tear-lidded eyes. he's far from gentle—it's barely been a couple minutes and your back is already in the highest arch of your life, and it's hard to form coherent thoughts as satoru continues bullying his cock into your pussy.

you lose track of time easily—fuck, you forget there's even a world outside of whatever this is. at some point your tongue falls out of your mouth, lolling to the side as your eyes roll back—just a dumb slut for satoru; or at least that's what he calls you.

as you approach what must be the hundredth orgasm of the night, satoru asks you to say his name. it's almost embarrassing how much effort it is to say—he's fucked you dumb enough to the point where you're a babbling mess.

"shit, you can't even talk," satoru says with a grin, flicking your forehead playfully. "cute." he rests his elbow by your head and shoves his hand over your mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you talk too much anyways, princess. take a break."

you whine against his hand and satoru shakes his head, a faux pout on his face. "c'mon, it's not like you can talk anyways," he tsks. his next thrust is particularly rough, and you can't seem to remember who the name of the dickhead who got you in this situation—what was your ex's name again? does it matter?

"yeah i can" you mumble, voice muffled by satoru's hand. when his pout deepens, you can't help but giggle, a sound that soon turns to a squeal when he pushes the side of your face into the mattress.

"what's so funny?" satoru grumbles, dipping his head and pressing his lips against the hand seperating your mouth from his. satoru's glimmering eyes are fixed on yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "fine then."

he pulls out, cursing under his breath as he presses his back to the headboard. satoru ignores the hm? that slips out of your lips and removes his hand from your mouth, resting it on his dick instead and stroking it with a smirk. "what is it, princess?"

"wha— why'd you stop?"

satoru lifts his other wrist, studying the watch on it and turning his hand so you can see too. your vision is still so fucked up that the numbers look like swimming otters, but you can vaguely make out the time.

"it's been fifteen minutes, kid. time to go."

your mouth falls open and you sit up, still breathing heavily. one second you're having the best sex of your life, and the next your ex's dad is calling you kid and telling you it's time to go?

"not fair," you mumble, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your head on your knees. "that was a stupid time limit," you huff, chest heaving. "i couldn't have done anything to him in fifteen minutes anyways."

satoru snorts, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. "i'd say we did something in those fifteen minutes," he says dryly, white hair falling into his eyes.

"hmph."

satoru raises his eyebrows, biting the inside of his lip as he continues stroking himself. you notice the way his abs flex and tense the closer he gets; something that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.

"can't believe my dumbass son fucked up so badly with a girl like you," he groans after a minute, back resting against the headboard as he continues stroking his dick. "won't be seein' you around here again, huh?"

you blink, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as satoru eyes you intently. "what d'you mean?"

before satoru can answer, the two of you hear footsteps, and before either of you can do anything, standing in the doorway to his own room is your ex, a giggling girl on his arm. the faint scent of alcohol floods through your nose as they stumble in, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from laughing when your ex sees that his bed is already occupied.

"why the hell is my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend?!"

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hanasnx · 9 months ago

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“ I WAS MADE FOR LOVIN’ YOU ” — logan howlett.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ age gap ノ established relationship ノ size difference ノ suggestive content ノ sexual content: naughty daydreams about pussy eating, nipple play, and groping; masturbation; voyeurism.

“I’m gonna take care of you.” Those six words—six—have defined your relationship with your husband, LOGAN HOWLETT. There’s a great protector in him, this compulsion to mentor and house within him that stretches far beyond his own needs. You fall within that range, and as soon as you met him you latched onto him. It didn’t take long at all before your imprint was reciprocated. Now he thinks of you first in everything he does.

He may not always look it, but you’re a factor in all his decisions. Settling down, nabbing a good job—one that didn’t ask for his background—was all to put you up in a house in the mountains. Far away from civilization, an ivory tower made up of wood he cut himself, surrounded by acres of nature. He’s always thought of himself a hair on the wild side, somehow you tame that down. It’s good, he tells himself, you and him.

It’s a partnership, and all he wants out of you is your safety. He likes you where he can keep an eye on you, make sure you stay out of trouble, make sure you’re comfortable.

You wish you could explain just why he thinks he has to protect you, why he married you, why he pays all the bills and expects nothing in return. You wish you could explain just why this relationship comprises all facets of a real marriage except for intimacy.

Logan won’t touch you. You’ll eat off each other’s utensils, fall asleep on his chest on the couch watching a movie—hell, he’ll reluctantly incline in your direction with a roll of his eyes to let you peck his cheek good-bye when he leaves for work. Yet, he won’t even kiss you. Even before he married you, there wasn’t so much as a grope or a stray look.

There’s home in Logan. You live to please him. You’ll cook him whatever he wants, keep the house he built for you clean as a whistle, you’ll spend all your free time with him, grab him his nightly beer and light his cigar so he stays content—but you’ve never even seen him naked. You doubt you ever will. Regardless, you stay, you can’t imagine leaving this life, leaving him.

It’s defied your expectations the fairy-tales of your childhood gave you. Your knight in shining armor rescued you, yet refuses to plant even true love’s kiss. When you’d matured, you’d fantasized about an insatiable husband that found you so irresistible he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Logan’s never looked at you that way, even though he calls you his wife without hesitation, married you without a second thought.

“Is it because I’m younger than you? I’m only in my early twenties. That’s not a big deal!” you’ve reasoned with him, but he still treats you like you’re naive. He must want passion, you’re sure of that. Why else are you young and beautiful if not to take advantage of it while you still can? Just once you’d like to see him yearn for you, to show lack of restraint, to come home one day so hungry for you that you don’t make it out of the kitchen.

Those claws… those deadly metal claws… you wish he’d use them in fantastical and deviant ways. Just one would glide through your nighty like sheet paper, bareing you to your husband—a sight for him only. You lie awake next to him at night, envisioning raunchy dreams of him proudly boasting the size difference between you two, demonstrating his sheer raw strength by overpowering you and taking what he wants from you. You’ve run your fingers delicately over his lips and the rough pad of his shaved chin, but you can’t imagine just how good it’d feel against your tit, swirling his hot tongue around your perked nipple while his callused digits pinch the other. You can pretend his head is ducking between your thighs, the sensation of his soft hair tickling your skin and tangling in your fingers as his masculine jaw scratches the fragile tissue of your pussy. As starved as you are, even discomfort like that is enough to make you moan into your palm, only to check over your shoulder to make sure you still hear your husband’s snoring.

You steel yourself at the noise, the low rumbling of his sleep cautions you to stay quiet but to proceed nonetheless. Your hand creeps down your neck, your chest, your stomach… You really should leave the room, but you’d risk waking him up for real at the sound of the door. Instead, you fuck yourself yet again, the soft rocking of the mattress as you hump your own hand filling the ears of your kindhearted husband—who’s been awake this whole time.

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