#he’s regretting being so aggressive now

[mrs-stans]

Sebastian Stan Talks Career Interests And His ‘A Different Man’ Film

By Jeff Conway

Sure, you likely know him for his many Marvel film appearances as Bucky Barnes, but actor Sebastian Stan has often taken “the road less traveled” when it comes to his career, having built quite the unique repertoire of memorable performances in far less conventional films.

That observation has arguably never been more visible than with his involvement in the new A24 film, A Different Man. Written & directed by Aaron Schimberg and co-starring Adam Pearson and Renate Reinsve, it tells the story of Edward (Stan), an aspiring actor who undergoes a breakthrough medical procedure to transform his facial appearance, but soon regrets his decision when he becomes obsessed with reclaiming what he has lost.

I sat down with Stan, Pearson and Schimberg to uncover the origin and the creative thought process that went into this new project, which is now playing in select theaters in New York and Los Angeles - nationwide come October 4. For filmmaker Schimberg, this purposefully uncomfortable narrative and the overall project hits rather close to home.

Schimberg said, “I mean, for me, it’s sort of a personal story. I have cleft palate and it’s just sort of me thinking about how it’s affected me in my life and others’ perception of me and my perception about myself. My previous film [Chained for Life] also dealt with the subject in some ways, so that’s sort of what I am always thinking about when I am starting to write a film. I was also thinking about Adam because I had worked with him previously and he played a shy character in Chained for Life, my last film, and he’s not shy at all - and yet, people I think sort of thought that he was playing himself in my movie because they sort of assumed that he must be shy. So, I was inspired to write something that was closer to who he is - taken to a comical extreme, maybe, and I wanted him to show off his range, but I also just wanted to work with him again, so these were some of the starting points.”

Pearson, a British actor with neurofibromatosis, which is a rare genetic disorder that typically causes benign tumors of the nerves and growths in other parts of the body, went on to share what it was about A Different Man and his Oswald character that most intrigued him to want to make this his next film.

“Well, I enjoyed working with Aaron the first time, so when he said, ‘Would you consider working with me again?’ Straight away, I was like, Ding Ding! Round two - let’s rock and roll. Then the script - all the words have weight. There’s very little wasted motion in the script. The end result of the film is quite challenging and holds up a mirror to an audience. I’ve never been a fan of hand-holding or sugar-coating. I think audiences can be a lot smarter than we often give them credit for. A good film will change what you think for a couple of days, but a great film will change how you think for the rest of your life. We’re certainly trying, at least, to be in the great film business.”

With Stan not only acting in A Different Man but also an executive producer, I wondered how he has perhaps noticed his interests and priorities towards the stories that matter most to him as a professional and human being evolving as time goes on.

Stan said, “Well, you get a little older and the questions get a little scarier. A few years ago, I just decided to kind of just be a little bit more aggressive about finding specific work that was interesting and different and kind of challenging for me than what I was getting to do. Eventually, you find yourself in conversations that are in the development of certain things and that might lead to a producing kind of aspect. I think in this [A Different Man] situation, I was involved before A24 came on, which never really happens for me. Not only because of obviously how I felt about the story and so on, I felt really brought in by Aaron and [producer] Vanessa [McDonnell] into their journey with this film and like what they were wanting to do. So, I felt a much bigger attachment than I usually do as an actor in a way.”

When it came time to film A Different Man, Stan recalls the production not having much time, which he actually found to be helpful within his producer role “because when you’re involved in some capacity beyond acting, sometimes you can kind of go, Hey, let’s continue shooting or something. You can help add more to the making of it in some capacity and that was big for us, given our time - that we didn’t have a lot of time.”

In fact, during one particular scene in the film, Stan remembers while everybody else was wrapping up the production trucks for the night, he decided to head out on the streets of New York City with his A Different Man director of photography Wyatt Garfield and Schimberg to grab additional footage. “I just kind of took one of his other little cameras and then we started going up and down Columbus Avenue. It was Friday night and we just got all these shots. Maybe you don’t always get to do that, so that was helpful.”

As I began to conclude my conversation with these three gentlemen, I wondered what Pearson and Stan would say to their A Different Man characters, Oswald and Edward, after seeing their stories play out on-screen and understanding their wants out of life.

Pearson said, “I’d be like to Oswald, Maybe turn it down a little bit. Be nicer to [Stan’s character Edward] because he might not say it, but he loves you and he needs you right now.”

As for the message Stan would tell Edward, he said, “Listen to me! I’m here - I’m telling you. I don’t know how I feel about this. Just hear me out.”

He then added: “It’s very interesting because we all have these moments in life, big or small, where you make a decision or you even say something because you’re with other people or you’re supposed to say something the right way, but you know your reaction in the moment or the decision you’re making is not what your gut is like really telling you. Then, you feel kind of like you’ve abandoned yourself, but then you just quickly deny that - that can kind of like spiral down. We’ve all kind of not owned certain things in the moment and that’s sort of what happens. He kind of drowns out that voice.”

[asimplearchivist]

Do y’all ever think about what was going through Grovyle’s mind at the Passage of Time when he found out about the hero being his partner?🙂I do.

(Click for better quality! And please for the love of God notice the reflection in his eye that I spent far too much time on getting just right😭)

Time lapse below the cut:

[luqlustra]

I’m doing recap for dnd this week

[sammydem0n64]

I’m being cursed by Talen thoughts. If only bc. Damn imagine being a teenage boy who, like most hormonal teens, CRAVES intimacy (this is my way of saying horny without being murdered for saying a 17 year old experiences sexual attraction.) and that’s largely your gimmick; that you want a girlfriend and it just so happens the girls you like are Not Very Good People. Yeah and then turns out your dad decides to try and kill you instead of selling you out to the gangs he’s in debt to?

[chuluoyi]

soft gojo meeting his newborn hc, pleaaasee??

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:10 P.M 」

soft dad!gojo drove me to have another baby fever for the ntn time. you just have to put this idea in my head don’t you dear anon~

a part of gojo's love entries

the thing was so tiny, precious and squishy. it fit right in his hands, so red and fragile, almost like a toy—

only it was not. it was a real, living baby. his son, partly made by his own flesh and blood—his to protect.

“hello to you, my little minion,” satoru whispered to his newborn, wonderstruck by the sight of this small but clearly alive being. his eyes glazed, his fingers delicately tracing the baby's face, body, and tiny feet. “i’m your dad, yeah?”

his own soft voice sounded foreign to him. but at this moment, as he was utterly mesmerized by the sight of little human that just came out of you, his beloved wife, he couldn’t care less.

he had always imagined how his brat would look like. he even joked with you about how he’d get his good looks—and heck, the gods did hear him and this baby in his arms was the most handsome baby he had ever seen, blessed with his white hair and softest skin, as well as the rosiest cheeks.

his only dismay was that he also inherited the bluest of eyes, the curse in his family line.

well, but that’s a problem for another day.

he settled his newborn into the hospital's nursery crib, and nudged his pudgy cheeks once again. not even half a day had passed since he was born, and gojo satoru had developed a severe cuteness aggression for his son. he swore he’d spoil him rotten, shower him love he never truly experienced from his own parents, and of course, keep him safe.

with his heart full, he left the baby as he slept, and went back to your room.

in the very same predicament as your baby, you were still fast asleep. you were visibly exhausted, your hair was a tangled mess, and there was a line of dried blood along your lips—caused by accidentally biting them too hard earlier, during your labor pains.

even in the state of disarray, satoru still thought you looked ethereal, too good for him.

he ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing them, and he regretted it when your face scrunched up and your eyes fluttered open. “…hmm? satoru?”

“hey, sweets. how are you feeling?”

“i still feel like being split into two… but yeah, i’ll manage.”

“shush, of course. you feel that way often, each time when i—”

“don’t,” you warned, glaring at him. “i just birthed your heir, gojo satoru. don’t even start.”

satoru burst into a laugh so hearty and he realized he truly loved this dynamics with you. and that he was grateful for you.

he wanted to thank you for all that you had done for him. for returning his feelings. for marrying him. for going through that pain to bring his son to the world—

and most of all, for still being here. for staying alive to live another day with him.

“i saw him just now. our baby is perfect.”

“really? i want to meet him too…”

“soon, sweetheart... when you’re a little better, i’ll take you to him.”

but he wasn’t the best with words. and so even if he were to pour his heart out, everything would be condensed into this one sentence.

you were excited at the prospect of meeting your baby, when suddenly satoru leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you so damn much… you know?”

[dolicekiss]

A debt

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen X Velaryon niece!reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni please), dubcon, lucerys velaryon reader (basically reader is lucerys velaryon but female), toxic aemond, threats, unprotected sex (p in v), near death experiment, hair pulling, rough making out, attempted sexual asssult, breeding, virgin!reader, bickering, mentions of blood, tension, kinda angsty

SYNOPSIS: Aemond could never forget that you had taken his eye out, so when you both cross paths at Storm’s End, he demands for what was taken from him. Things went haywire when a sneak attack lead you to fall from your dragon and be swallowed by the large waves. Only that you didn't die, as Aemond finds you and saves you. With nowhere to take you, the prince takes you to a brothel hoping Sylvie would keep you safe there. Little did be know, a beautiful girl such as yourself was not a thing to be put in a brothel.

“I want you to put out your eye, as payment for mine.”

Blue sapphire sparkled in the hollowness of Aemond’s eye when he peeled back his eye patch and revealed the wound you had left behind as a little girl. A regret at best but not anymore. You swallowed, heart thumping in your chest. You possessed no desire to fight him, nor did you wish to indulge with him.

You were only a messenger here.

“One would serve.” Aemond softly spoke, as you watched him reach for a dagger. “I would not blind you.”

The piercing sound of the dagger being tossed at you was more pellucid against your ears than the gushing rainstorm outside. Patterning aggressively on the cobblestones, striking thunder tearing through the sky. The seven were definitely upset, for what was about to take place. An ominous feeling looming over your head, putting your heart in a state of unease.

“Plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

There was no way he could expect you to take out your own eye. You had acted upon impulse but you were right to do so. He was going to injure your brother and you, that stone in his hand a vivid image embedded in your mind from childhood.

You held your head high, fierce gaze focused on him. “No.”

Aemond seemed disappointed by your response. “Then you are craven as well as a traitor.”

You could hear Lord Borris’ rebuke in the back but it mattered little to Aemond as he marched towards you abruptly, causing you to retreat back. “Give me your eye, or I will take it, bastard!”

“Come fucking take it then.”

Swords were unsheathed and the sound of it echoed within the halls of Lord Borris' castle.

You were filled with panic, your long black braid moving behind your back when you took haste steps back. Before bloodshed could happen, Lord Borris stepped in and sent you back to your dragon. You were thankful for that as this could lead to something worse.

You went out, going to your dragon, Arrax who seemed in quite distress. You patted his back, once or twice and commanded for it to calm down in high valyrian but nothing seemingly worked. Rain had soaked into your clothes and the thunderstorm only grew heavier witch each second. As you mounted it, your gaze set on the empty space where Vhagar once sat.

You made it your goal to reach dragonstone safely and convey the Lord’s message to your mother.

As Arrax flew up in the grey sky, you looked around hoping to not find Aemond but when the massive shadow of Vhagar flew atop you in the clouds, your blood froze. Panic rising up and you knew very well that fighting Aemond in a dragon combat would end with you losing since he had claimed the largest dragon in all of Westeros.

You could feel your dragon’s uneasiness, same as yours and that was not a good sign.

Aemon had disappeared for now and you released a breath of relief, turning your dragon to head for dragonstone.

Only then Vhagar came in front of you, out of nowhere, with its wide mouth open sending your dragon in pure disarray. You tried to control it, in hopes that things will calm down if one dragon is calm enough but no.

Aemond’s laugh echoed in the open sky and it was enough to fill you with chills. You felt Vhagar right behind you, its loud roars having the same affect as Aemond’s malicious laughs. You saw a narrow pathway between two stones and went inside, knowing Vhagar would be incapable of fitting in there with its large size.

Your commands to calm your dragon down were pathetic and useless.

It was scared, as were you.

You could hear Aemond’s deep voice, and it terrified you.

“Jemēla gēlyēni enkā, riña.” Those words, you knew what they meant and you knew Aemond would only calm when he has ripped out your eye from your socket, a vision you would be.

Fearsome was the thought.

Your vision had blurred due to the constant pouring of the rain and your own head was everywhere. But then, out of nowhere your dragon spots Vhagar and in desperate need to protect itself, flies at the beast and breathes fire into her face.

“Lykiri, Arrax! Lykiri!” Your command in high valyrian flies over your tense dragon’s head as you fly away from Vhagar.

You can hear Vhagar losing its calm too, as Aemond’s high valyrian commands roared along with his dragon. You turned around, looking down but there was no sight of Vhagar chasing after you now, so you flew higher.

You broke through the barrier of the dark, looming clouds and when light greeted you, relief washed over you. False assumptions that everything was calm now became the reason of your fall as Vhagar out of nowhere leaped from the side, biting Arrax‘s head into two.

“Vhagar, no!”

Your eyes widened in horror, gaze locking with Aemond as you lost balance and fell down.

That was all you remembered, as you passed out due to the panic and lose of hope. You knew from then on, you were better off dead but what broke your heart the most was the gruesomely demise of your beloved dragon.

Aemond knew he had to find you.

Vhagar had missed you by an inch and the chances of you being alive were somewhat there. He did not wish to start a war, not like this, not by killing off his niece when she was at her weakest.

He had the advantage by being in the possession of the biggest dragon and he knew it was not fair to you.

Aemond dived in, lowering his dragon to the sea, in hopes that he would find you. Endlessly searching in the water, letting out frustrated grunts when he didn't find you. He flew over the shore, all deserted and he noticed something. Bringing Vhagar closer to it, he jumped off her back and ran towards your passed out body.

Thankfully you had washed up on the shore.

Your long braid wrapped around your stomach, the side of your head bloodied and Aemond fell to his knees, reaching for your face.

You were as lifeless as a corpse.

He checked your pulse and relief washed over him. You were alive, although unconscious.

Aemond buried his arms beneath your soaked body, lifting you up and taking you over to Vhagar. He somehow got you on his dragon’s back and tied you to him, your back pressed against his chest and head leaned over his shoulder.

“Fuck, what do I with you now?” He whispered, a mix of worry and frustration donning his face.

He couldn't take you back to the red keep, as they would capture you and hold you hostage. He didn't want that, not when he had not captured you with honor. Aemond was not some monster without morals but he sure could not take you to the blacks, knowing it would put his life in danger.

There was absolutely nothing he could do than fly around Westeros with you on his dragon.

An idea infiltrated the prince's mind.

There was only one place where he could keep you, without bringing you harm and that was the brothel he often visited. Under Sylvie’s care and under her orders, she surely would protect you and keep you safe.

He sighed, flying to where Vhagar usually rested. He allowed her rest while taking a horse, putting his hoodie over your very bright and pleasant features to conceal you.

The realm had seen you, he did not wish for people to take notice of you. Aemond pressed you into his chest as he rode in King's landing, making way to Sylvie’s brothel.

That was the best place to keep you.

As his own hostage.

For no one else to hurt, no one else to lay claim on you.

Sylvie was surprised to see the prince with an unconscious woman in his arms. Aemond only had to glare at her and she allowed him in. Thankfully it was broad daylight and there were not much customers — giving the young prince enough room to smuggle you in the confinement of a room in a secluded area of the brothel upstairs.

“My prince, who is she?”

Aemond sighed, tiresome all this was but it was his fault and deep down he knew that.

“Just know that she is mine and I am entrusting her to you.” Aemond said, staring at your unconscious body laying on the soft bed. “If harm comes to even a strand of her hair, I will behead you and your girls.”

Sylvie was terrified and it was rare of her to be this terrified of Aemond. His tone was dark and she knew that this woman, whoever she might be, was definitely not to sell to her customers. All the woman could do was nod at the prince, obeying his each and every command.

“Trust me, my prince. Rest assured. I shall take care of her like she is my own.”

Aemond was pleased. “Tend to her wounds, clean her and change her clothes. Give her your most expensive dress.”

Sylvie nodded, eyes lowered to the floor as Aemond continued analyzing you. You had the most longest hair he had ever laid eye upon. A long braid which reached your calves and it was as dark as a raven. You surely were no velaryon, as much as you went around parading it like your mother.

But you surely were a Targaryen.

He departed from the brothel, writing a mental note that he would visit again tonight.

Hours passed by and when you finally regained consciousness, it was not in the arms of death nor the waves but on a soft mattress, surrounded by candles everywhere and the strong sweet scent of oils and perfumes.

Your gaze fell on your attire and it was something you would never in your seven lives wear.

A long sleeved dress, made of sheer material, enough to expose your small clothes. Your shoulders revealed and glistening from the oils that had been rubbed on you. Your hand reached to feel your thick braid but instead wavy strands awaited you. Cascading down your back, surrounding you like a fucking gown. You were in a completely different attire than before.

Soft music orchestrated by someone unknown made its tunes inside the room you were in.

It was small, with a bed and a table side. A chair was also in the corner and you sucked in a deep breath, eyes flitting here and there to analyze the room further.

The door soon opened and it revealed a woman, in her mid fourties and you blinked upon seeing her disheveled state. She was practically naked and slowly the realization began to sink in.

“Is this a brothel?”

The woman had the sweetest smile on her lips as she nodded, in her hand a jug you assumed filled with wine. In her other, a golden cup. A grimace made its way on your face, disgust evident but there was also unmatched anger. You were going to slaughter whoever that had brought you here.

Had they sold you?

Did Aemond do this? It would not make sense at all since you knew he would have abandoned you the moment you fell off your dragon. There was no way he would search for you but if it wasn't him then someone else had found you and put you here.

Your head felt like it could burst at any given moment and you realized how bad of a throbbing pain was in the side of your head. It ached and when you reached for it, you flinched.

“By what means am I here? I need to know who put me in such a horrible filthy place.”

You watched with a sharp eye as she poured the liquid into the cup, extending it out for you once finished. You blinked, shaking your head. “I demand answers, not wine.”

“I'm afraid I'm not allowed to answer those but he will be here soon.”

You snatched the cup of wine from her hand and tossed it across the room, watching as the glass made contact with the wall and collapsed in the corner. The woman’s grin grew wider as she realized you were no low born for sure. The amount of money she could make off you was unmatched but she knew better than to defy Aemond’s orders.

“You have the temperaments of a high born lady.” Sylvie said, head tilted as she admired the beauty you were blessed with. “No wonder I was told to take care of you.”

There was not a mark on your face, like you'd been blessed by the seven themselves. You were a piece of art and how she'd gotten you ready only made you appear like Venus, the goddess of love and sex, fertility even.

Sylvie left the room, to attend to her guests but not before warning you. “Do not leave this room, girl. There are wolves out there and they won't hesitate to rip you to shreds. You are safe here.”

You felt chills at her words, well aware of the atrocities men committed here with women.

You chewed on your lip, knees brought to your chest as you hugged them tightly while your arms wrapped around them. You wanted to cry, you missed your brothers and your mother. Being her only daughter, you knew her whole being resided within you and you wished to send a letter at least about your whereabouts.

She surely would come to save you.

Confused, scared and cornered, you stayed glued to your position.

Then the room door opened and a man entered. Your head lifted up from your knee pads and you backed into the wall seeing how drunk this man was. His wobbly walk told you he had more than enough to drink and now he was staggering towards you.

“I knew that bitch was hiding something here.” He said, a sick grin on his face and your eyes widened upon catching a glimpse of the man's hands that were extended to grab a hold of you. “Such a pretty girl like you should be downstairs, not here. But then it's good you're here. I get to have you all for myself.”

“Touch me and I will make you wish you were never born.” You spat, a venom in your tone as your posture shifted.

You were on guard and you had always trained under your step father, Daemon. You knew how to defend yourself, as well as take down a life if you had to. There was nothing in this world that you would not do to protect yourself and when the man's flimsy endeavor to grab you slipped, you rolled over the bed to reach for the cup of wine.

You swallowed.

You had trained but you never once had to fight someone to save your life, dignity and honor.

This was real, this was what you had trained for.

Adrenaline pumped through your blood, since the man was evidently twice your delicate size. You watched with a sharp gaze as he scoffed, reaching for you. Before his hands could come in contact with your exposed shoulders, you struck down the man's hand with the sharp edge of the wine glass.

He let out a scream, nearly succumbing to his knees. “You fucking bitch.”

You stared as blood soaked his clothes, the cut deep and brutal on his hand. This only encouraged his lust for you, an anger igniting in his eyes. He seemed pretty sober now as he got back up and slammed you against the wall with newfound force.

“Fucking whore. You don't have to act this hard to get. I swear I'll pay more than what the others do.” His words were like salt to the wound, as he held you over the wall. You had nothing on him now, as the man buried his face into your neck.

He sniffed, satisfied with the scent of the oils staining your skin. Before his lips could come in contact with your skin, the door slammed open and you saw Aemond.

The moment he laid his gaze on you, in such a horrible and disgusting situation, something inside him snapped. His jaw tightened and Aemond forgot that he was in a brothel and causing a scene could put you in danger.

You felt the force of the man disappear as Aemond pulled him off you, pinning him to the ground with his knee into his neck. You watched as your uncle delivered punch after punch, ruining the set of very basic features on his face.

“How dare you lay your filthy hands on her? On her, of all people?” His voice was loud as for each word, a taut punch was sent to the man's face.

Sylvie entered the room, in a panicked state, witnessing the disheveled state of both Aemond and you in front of him. She recognized the man as one of her clients and when Aemond caught her in his eye, he stood up and grabbed the woman by her throat, pressing her into the wall.

He leaned in, darkness imposing a threat. “I gave you one fucking job, and you failed.”

“I-I swear I don't know how he found her. My Prince believe me, I-I would never misplace something you told me to take care of.”

You watched the whole scene unfold, with blurring tears in your eyes, a soft sniffle escaping you. The man's touch was disgusting and it still lingered over your shoulders, the stains of blood tainting the purity of your skin. You could not believe what was going on, all you knew that Aemond was aware of your whereabouts which could only mean one thing; he himself put you here. Was this how low the Greens were willing to go, to win the war? By tainting the Queen’s reputation and putting you in a brothel for commoners to use and throw?

“Get out of my fucking sight and hand this fucking filth to my guards. I will see what it is to be done of him.” Aemond elucidated each word for the woman and she nodded, grabbing the man and dragging him out. “And bring me some water and a clean cloth.” His head turned in your direction, gaze locking with your blurred one.

You were still frozen in that position, not being able to move an inch. Your body had stilled from how sudden and scary everything was.

Aemond took a step towards now that you two were alone and you flinched. “Please don't.”

He stilled, staring at you. You were close to breaking apart, he could see it. Tears falling down in small streams, glistening over the golden glow of the candle casting on your face.

“I would never force myself upon you.” He said, almost offended that you would expect something like that from him in the first place. He was cold, stoic, he knew but did you really see him in such a horrible light? It bothered him when it should not have, it shouldn't matter what you have got to say or think about him.

“Did you throw me in here as revenge for your eye, Uncle?” You spoke, throat feeling like it was being prickled by needles because of how much you were holding yourself back from breaking into a fit of sobs and tears.

He raised a brow and then proceeded to scoff. “You really do see me as some tyrant.”

“You chased me on your dragon and made me fall, I could have died!” You shouted, taking a step forward. Your sadness had transformed into anger, and now your tears were flowing freely. A ton of emotions overwhelming your little frame and Aemond saw it.

The tick in his jaw grew, fists still clenched and blood dripping from them. “But you didn't. I found you and I brought you here to keep you safe—”

“Safe? Safe?! You brought me here, to this god forsaken place to keep me safe? Just say it, Uncle.” You fumed, stepping up to the man you once feared. “You wanted to humiliate me. You want me to get used, be some common man's whore.”

Aemond’s patience was running thin and when he imagined you as a whore, it ran out right before you. His feet moved with such ability as he marched in your direction, slamming you against the corner, palms glued to the wall. He breathed down your face, his sharp chin brushing against yours.

Your breath hitched, being this close to your Uncle was completely new and you were rendered speechless.

“The greens will hold you hostage.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “They will parade you around on a fucking horse for the whole of King's Landing to bear witness.”

You stared into his one eye, chest rising up and down as suddenly your body had forgotten how to lure in some air. “Could've taken me home.”

“They would take me hostage for the cause of your injured state.” He whispered, in a much softer tone. “There was nowhere for me to take you in your current state, only here.”

“A brothel, Uncle.” You said, tears once again threatening to spill and they did. Your soft sniffles echoing in the room, remembering what the man had done and how filthy his touch felt. You felt defiled and he hadn't even done something worse, something that could never be taken back. Your bloodied shoulders shook violently from how much you were crying, body going slump and Aemond quickly held you in his arms, not allowing you to succumb to the floor.

His strong arms held you — with overbearing strength, holding you whilst you cried.

In truth, you hated every bit of this war. Things were much better before the death of your grandsire, King Viserys. The crown made people greedy, the more they looked at it. It possessed the type of power which was too overwhelming for anyone and everyone. Like a curse, it slowly poisoned the mind of its bearer. The same was happening with the Greens as they had usurped your mother's throne.

“You should've left me to die.” You managed to say through your broken cries.

Aemond released a bated breath. “It was never my intention for something as grave as that to happen. It was merely an attempt to intimidate you.”

You understood him. Despite all this fucked up shit, you did. You had taken his eye out, left him disabled. His siblings had all their parts but Aemond felt empty, he felt incomplete and you had played a big part in it. Both of you had realized your mistakes a long time ago yet no one owned up to it, no one possessed the courage to reach out the other for closure.

You never apologized for the bullying encouraged by his brother, he never apologized for assaulting your brothers. You never apologized for taking his eye and he never apologized for attempting to intimidate you with his dragon — which made you suffer a great loss. Remotely close to his.

“Arrax,” you sobbed, in the arms of the man who was the cause of your state. “my poor dragon. He was so scared, I could feel it. He was afraid.”

Aemond wanted to apologize. He wanted to because he was aware of a rider’s bond with its dragon. Yet no words left his mouth, his palm running up and down your back rather awkwardly. He had absolutely no idea on what to do with you now. Your forehead was pressed into his chest as you sobbed.

But then you looked up at him, with a piercing gaze. “You are as childish and as pathetic the day I took your fucking eye out, Aemond.” This time you did not address him as your uncle and your words riled him up even more. You were at his mercy, you should not have played with fire like that and Aemond snapped.

“I'm pathetic?” He asked with darkness behind his tone. “You're the one pinned neath me. I could easily have you, take my revenge.”

“You're going to take my eye out, Uncle? Do it. Finish it, once and for all.” You seethed through gritted teeth, glaring at him. Aemond tightened his hold on your frail wrists causing you to wince and flinch. He restrained both hands with one of his and moved the other to grasp your chin, fingers dimpling in your cheeks. “No, I will take something more precious, something that is worth more than an eye to a maiden such as yourself.”

“You wouldn't.” You said, shaking your head after realizing what he was hinting at. You knew the significance of your maidenhood and Aemond was going to hurt you right where it hurt the most. “I am your niece, you would not.”

“Did your mother not marry her uncle, Gevives?” (Beauty)

You flinched at the way his voice dropped when he spoke high valyrian. The situation you were in didn't help either, with Aemond’s whole body weight on top of you but enough to not crush you. The room elevated with tension as you opened your mouth to protest but a knock on the door interrupted you both.

“Come in.”

The door parted, revealing Sylvie along with a cloth in her hand and a bucket of clean water.

“Leave it on the table.” Aemond commanded, not paying her any mind and the woman obliged before leaving the room.

Your uncle reached for the cloth, soaking it into the water. You struggled, squirming in his tenacious grip and all Aemond did was keep his eye on you while he soaked the fabric fully into the water. Once it was soaked enough, he pulled it out and leaned down, face only a few inches apart from yours. Your breath got stuck in your throat.

He swiped the cloth over the blood stains on your collarbones, gently and carefully. The action itself caused arousal to pool in your cunt, your thighs squeezing together and Aemond felt it. He let out a breath, sending it to tingle your skin and you gasped out at how close he was to you.

“The idea of someone else's blood on you vexes me.” Aemond confessed, moving the fabric down to the cups of your small shoulders. He swiped it across the skin, watching as your skin became free from the taints of filth.

You licked your lips, breath ragged. “You have gone insane, Uncle.”

“I have, maybe I truly have.” Aemond’s eye was focused on the sharp bone embedded in your skin, known as your collarbone. His desires were taking the best of him and he hated himself for it. You were his niece, the same little girl who took his fucking eye out and is now his enemy — the same girl who would betray him in a heartbeat for her mother.

Abandon him for her pretender of a mother.

Yet the man did not care enough to stop whatever he was doing.

“How will you take something more precious when it is painfully obvious who is the more experienced brother, according to the rumors of the Keep.” You hissed and Aemond inhaled, a serpent you'd become in such a short span. Aemond stopped cleaning your skin, since he was finished and tossed the fabric aside.

His fingers clamped around your chin. “Keep your mouth fucking shut. You are only tempting me, niece.”

It was obviously a warning but you could not back out, not when you had held hostility all your life towards him. “For all I know, I am not even of your nature. I have heard you like them older, my Prince.” A mischievous smirk ceased your features. It was all a facade to come off strong. “Like her. Is she the one you visit in brothels? You know her too well.”

“Shut your fucking mouth before I shove my cock in it. Would you like that, hm? You're probably a pathetic little slut exactly like your mother.” Aemond threatened, suppressing the urge to strike his hand over your cheek. His grip on your chin tightened, his fingers craning your face up as his breath mingled with yours.

“How sad that the one who is putting all his effort in winning the war was never bound to get the throne nor become the object of his mother's affections.” You taunted and that hit Aemond where you wanted it to hit. “How does it feel, Uncle? To not receive an ounce of love from both your father and mother.”

“At least I am not a bastard.” He spat, and you knew that was coming. It was their one valid argument after all. “I might be a bastard but both my mother and father cherish me, love me, for who I was, for what I am. You are a sad, pathetic case.”

Aemond’s hand moved to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and pulling you over to the bed to toss you on it like some ragdoll. You gasped when your frail body collided against the bed, feeling it bounce a little. Your brows furrowed as you turned around to face him but Aemond was already standing before you, his knee dipping into the bed.

“Let’s see if that mouth of yours can still produce coherent words when I am fucking your sweet cunt.” Breath uneven and lips shuddering, you stared at him as he pushed aside the curtains of the bed and maneuvered inside, crawling on top of you.

You tried to run, a feeble and failed attempt at escaping from the dragon you had awakened. Aemond locked you in place by one hand around your leg, pinning you down against the bed. His harsh actions made you miss the man in who's arms you had cried and how gently he held you, like you were a lover and not the one he despised the most.

“Even though you never apologized, I forgive you.” He whispered, reaching for his eye and removing the patch to reveal the familiar sapphire again. A reminder of the events that took place between you two.

You felt horrible, guilt overpowering and over consuming. “You threatened me with a stone. I was only protecting myself and my brother.”

“You humiliated me, at every chance you and that bastard brother of yours got. Were the indignities caused by my brother not enough that you two had to join in?” His tone was almost sad and you realized how awfully you had been to him, all for the sake of momentarily fun. The picture from his side was painted cruelly and your lips shivered.

Was apologizing going to be enough?

Is it going to be enough when your uncle was on top of you, about to commit the most vilest of crime.

“I'm sorry.” Came a wholehearted whisper from you, a sad expression adorning your face. “It is not enough to bring your eye back or take back everything and you do not have—”

“I told you, I forgive you.” He said, his hand cupping your shoulder, fingers tugging underneath the sleeve hanging around your arm. “But you must be punished. You must face the consequences of your own actions.”

“Uncle, we were children.” You attempted to justify but that was like sprinkle of fuel to the fire.

Aemond pulled your sleeve, causing it to rip and your eyes widened in horror. His other hand ripped the other sleeve as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You were not only terrified but weirdly aroused too. Your uncle's anger was obvious but the subtle change between his rough tugs and gentle kisses left you light headed as well as overwhelmed. You breathed in, and then released it, in hopes that he would calm down but Aemond was too far gone.

“Uncle, stop it.” He tried to push at his chest.

Aemond grabbed your wrists, locking them over his chest. “I will only stop once I put a silver haired bastard inside you.”

“Fucking me in a whorehouse, putting a bastard in me. You have truly planned this out, no?” You said, putting up a strong facade but deep down you were scared. You did not wish to give birth to a bastard, knowing you yourself were one. Born out of wedlock to your mother and her guard, sir Harwin strong.

You knew how badly were they treated and the thought of giving birth to one pained you.

“Would you be so cruel to put a babe in me and then abandon it?” You asked — staring up at him with glossy eyes. You writhed in his hold but to no avail as his one hand clamped over your wrist while the other moved to tug at your neckline, causing your breasts to spill out.

Aemond hissed. He'd realized you had grown now and you were not the same little girl who helped his brother make his life a living hell. Your nipples rosy and hardened and he sighed, fondling the plush fat. “The image of you walking around dragonstone with my silver haired bastard tugging at the skirt of your dress, demanding attention. A reminder of what his father did to you swells my cock.”

“Get off me. You're fucking mad if you think I would carry your children.” Your endeavors to fight him were a lost cause, trying to land punches at his chest but they were gone in vain. Aemond had control, he had power over you by being stronger, more muscular. “I will drink moon tea. You cannot force me to have your child."

“Then I must keep you here and breed you every single night until you are swollen with my babe.”

He got off you and flipped you on your stomach, hands covetously ripping apart the expensive chiffon dress, revealing your bare back. Your small shoulders trembling and chills dancing down the small of your back when the cold air brushed against your skin.

“Stop it.” It came out muffled as Aemond buried your face into the mattress.

Not only had he intended to fuck you, he was going to do it like you were some common whore. Either taking you on your back or on your stomach. You bit back a soft cry as his fingertips danced across your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Tears glossed your vision and you let out a tentative whimper when his hand groped a handful of your plush ass.

“It is time to pay the consequences of your actions, Bastard.” Aemond’s words were hoarse making you flinch.

He had locked you in place with his own body and soon enough he also stripped himself off his attire. You could not see, but you could hear the metallic jingling of his sword and dagger against one another, his belt and briefs shuffling together. Aemond’s hand flew back to grip your nape, forcing your face deeper into the pillow.

Your body was not fully bare as his, some aspects still covered by the tethered pieces of fabric.

Aemond reached over and hoisted you up into his arms, pushing your body on your palms and knees. Despite your struggle and continuous objection, he still managed to put you in the most degrading position ever. You were like a fucking animal — ass pushed out for him and the tears finally fell. His fingers dug into the side of your hips, holding you in place.

“I hate you, I fucking hate you.”

Your constant expressions of your loathsome did not bother Aemond in the slightest. Your mouth did not matter to him, it was your cunt that did. He didn't even mind to prepare you, all he did was align his hardened leaking tip at your soaked hole and pushed. Loud grunts and high pitched whimpers tore through you both as you felt him breach your maidenhead and defile you with determination. Bittersweet pain had blossomed in between your thighs, your cunt a bleeding mess but Aemond continued, pushing his cock furthermore until he was fully sheathed inside your walls.

“The cunt of a bastard is surely more pleasurable than a whore's. I shouldn't let you go to dragonstone, I should make you my personal little whore. For me to use and breed.”

Your cries of pain and broken sobs did not falter him as he relished them — enjoying the way your hiccups sounded. Frail and light, allowing him to have the pleasure of revenge he was denied off all his life. But not anymore, as he had you right where he wanted. This humiliation was much better than taking your eye out.

“A-Aemond,” you sobbed mindlessly, trying to wriggle out of his grasp which lead it to grow firmer. “hurts, please it hurts. Be gentle, please for the Gods.”

You knew that begging him to stop was futile but maybe if you begged enough for him to be gentle, he would be kind enough to not ravage you like some beast. Your broken little sobs worked in your favor as Aemond allowed you a few moments to adjust to the sheer size of his manhood, as he had forgiven you after all.

He did not loathe you.

He only wished for consequences, for revenge.

This was it.

Aemond lowered his face next to your ears, taut chest pressed over your sweaty spine as he whispered in your ear. “If I don't take you now, I would continue to harbor ill intentions for you. This is for the best.”

It was all a lie, a way to manipulate you.

You nodded, finally succumbing and Aemond felt a strong overwhelming sense of victory wash over him.

He slowly pulled out of you before drilling back inside you, repeatedly and over the course of him pummeling his cock inside you, you became a writhing, blubbering mess. It was too much for your little body as Aemond continuously fucked his cock into you. Built like him it was. Long, slender and you'd assumed it was as beautiful as him too.

Your hands were let go from their tight hold and you found them buried into the soft sheets, fingers intertwined with the pale pillows and sheets. Each thrust sent your body forwards and you whined, feeling his cock head bruise your cervix, aiming upwards for that perfect spot of yours.

“Oh!” Your eyes rolled back to your skull at one particular thrust, feeling him hit an area unexplored.

Aemond’s brows creased together, realizing he had finally found the sweet spot he was hunting for. His movement grew relentless, in fast, deep drills he abused that sensitive area as he watched you ascend deeper into the stairs to heaven. Your knuckles had gone white from the strong hold and your knees shivered from Aemond’s force.

“If you'd given yourself up to me like this, I would not have had to hunt you to satisfy my thirst for revenge.” Aemond panted, his words accompanied by loud striking sounds of skin meeting skin. “You should have visited my chambers when you took my fucking eye out. Should have stripped naked, spread your legs for me to take your sweet cunt.”

“Please, stop,” came a broken murmur from you, wishing to forget about that god forsaken night. “d–didn't want to do it, didn't want to hurt you. I was scared, was terrified of Vhagar.”

“But you did. You took out my eye, left me hideous.” Aemond had always felt monstrous, empty and incomplete. These feelings were all gifted by you and now he wanted you to feel the same.

Left incomplete, defiled and empty.

Aemond’s hand moved down to grab a fistful of your hair from the roots, pulling up until you two were one body. His chest over your spine, as he fucked himself into you, deep and vigorous strokes. Tears streamed in tiny rivulets down your face, as Aemond circled another arm around your breasts, holding you in place to fuck you like you were some doll made for his sickly pleasures.

You made the grave mistake of moving your head and found him already staring at you. Lips parted, letting out breathless little pants and the sapphire danced in his empty socket, a reminder of your actions. He saw you, close and noticed all the features littered across your face. The freckles over your nose, the dark strands clinging to your perspired forehead and the way your nose scrunched up whenever he thrusted inside you. Gods, you were a heavenly sight, one that only he was fortunate enough to witness.

Aemond fought back the urge to claim your lips in a kiss — that action too intimate, than using your cunt to satisfy his hunger.

But eventually caved in as he took your lips into an aggressive lock, a firm kiss it was. He bite and licked at your lips, shoving a wet tongue past the pair and slithering inside like a snake. You whined, hoping that he would slow down but Aemond devoured you like a starved mad man. Teeth clashing with teeth, tongue battling with tongue, he swallowed all the little sounds you produced. His gruesome kiss had left you lightheaded when he pulled back to look at you.

In a daze you appeared.

Aemond stared at your swollen lips while you gazed upon his lips, dumbfounded and taken aback by his sudden desire to kiss you like a beast.

“I-I don't find you hideous.” It was a whimper but it caused his thrusts to stall, coming to a halt. He stared at you, surprised by your words and his stomach burned in anticipation knowing well enough you would say something worse.

But what you said next left him astonished and with a newly ignited desire. “I think you're.. pretty, prettier than Aegon.”

You couldn't compare him to your brothers as the famous targaryen features were not shared amongst them but Aegon had the same features as Aemond yet you have always found him the most prettiest Targaryen man ever. He was slim, but not in a bad way — he had the right amount of muscles and perfect height. Aemond possessed the type of beauty which did not decrease by losing an eye.

“A lie.” He growled, shaking his head.

You looked at him with the most innocent doe eyes. “I mean it. Losing an eye did not make you hideous, Aemond. You are still as beautiful as ever.”

He didn't respond and his impassive face told you that he was not phased by your genuine words but Aemond felt fucking butterflies nip at his stomach. His cock hardened even more if that were possible and he dropped you on the bed, continuing his assault. His hips snapped deliberately inside you, with newfound vigor and strength. You gasped out, your gummy walls tightening around his length as he drilled his cock inside you.

The compliment, the validation he'd received from you and how genuine it was — it drove him mad. Even his own mother failed to comfort him but you, the fucking preparator out of all people managed to. It angered him but also soothed over the burn you'd left.

Aemond felt his peak near, dancing around him and soon he reached it — his hips stuttering and his hot seed spurting inside you in ropes. “Fuck, fuck. I should fill you up and leave you here. A fucking whore with a Targaryen bastard.” You felt him taint your insides, leaving a mark that would always linger like how you'd left a scar on his face. Feeling his seed fill you up, you also unravelled as Aemond fucked the hot fluid into your womb, making sure you end up with a babe of his own.

Your eyes saw white and your thighs twitched, knees giving out and body finally colliding into the sheets. Yet Aemond continued thrusting, the wet squelching sound of your peak mixed with his grossing you out. Your tears had dried so more were released, going the same route as the ones from before.

You couldn't even resist anymore, nor rebel.

Aemond pulled his softened cock out of you and watched as your destroyed, gaping hole threw up his spent. It was hot and he shuddered at the thought of you swollen with his child.

He should've hated the idea of your breasts leaking with milk for his babe, swollen and peaked but instead he found himself aching to witness it in real life, not some fucked up imagination. He couldn't take you, as badly as he wished to. You were not his to keep but he was letting you go with a piece of him inside your womb.

He laid with you, but you'd not expected him to lay an arm over your small waist. Your body spent and completely frail from his monstrosity but Aemond wished for more, he craved more yet he gave you time to rejuvenate and collect yourself.

“Did you mean it?”

You raised your gaze at him, bemused.

“A-About me, being pretty. Did you mean it or was that also to deceive me?” He asked, failing to make eye contact. He stared ahead at the ceiling and you nodded your head slowly, throat parched. “I did. I would not lie about that.”

His chest swell up with an unfathomable feeling, something beyond his own understanding as he pulled you closer to him, subconsciously. Aemond was in a dilemma, confused about what had to be done. He wanted to be more cruel, more horrible but it was not in him to show you more cruelty than you deserved.

[bueckers]

𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄 ━━━ 𝐏𝐁

a/n | heavily inspired by that clip of caitlin & gabbie LOL. kind of a blurb

summary: paige gets caught looking at you a certain way on camera while you’re practically fuming during a game.

warning(s): just sexual tension & out of pocket comments, suggestive

pairing: paige bueckers x teammate!reader

The game against NC State was remarkably close, an unexpected challenge for only the second game of the season. As the third quarter dwindled to its final minutes, a sense of frustration began to set in. You found yourself doing everything in your power to gain composure.

The same girl had been targeting you all night, her aggressive play becoming increasingly blatant as the game progressed. Your patience was wearing thin, and when she charged at you once again, a surge of anger propelled you forward, ready to confront her. However, before you could react, Paige, Aubrey, and Ines intervened, stepping in to hold you back before you did something you’d regret.

Geno had benched you, which only added more fuel to the fire. When the other team called a timeout, the rest of the team was sent to the benches, but Paige was quick to run over to you. As soon as the whistle blew, you got out of my seat and jogged over to the referee, determined to explain that he had made the wrong call. He had been the entire game. Your frustration, however, got the better of you, and your words came out heated. The referee was clearly unimpressed with your complaints and wasn’t budging.

Paige stepped in front of you, concluding your one-sided heated conversation with the referee. She grabbed your arm with one hand and placed the other on your lower back to guide you away. “C’mere,” she mumbled, steering you back to the bench. You sat down, a little calmer than before but still huffing and puffing that you hadn’t gotten to say everything you wanted to.

Paige sat next to you, her entire body turned in your direction as she nearly fell off the seat. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, and she knew exactly what to do to get you to calm down. “Talk to me,” she threw out huskily, knowing you had to actually get what you had to say out before resting. You were already on it.

“That girl has been all over me all night,” you began, words tumbling out in a rush. “Do you know how many fouls I’ve been cheated out of? It’s like she’s got it out for me. And the refs are fucking blind to it—this is bullshit..”

As you rambled on, Paige couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. She was perplexed at how you could look so good even while angry. Her eyes darted between yours and your lips the entire time, her lips slightly parted. Though you were loud, she barely heard a word, her ears blocking out all of the trash talk you let flow. Paige was captivated, caught between her desire to comfort you with reassuring words and letting you take her in the locker room after the game, which seemed to intensify with every fiery word you spoke.

Her head rested in one of her hands, and just as you finished speaking you turned to her, catching her lingering gaze on your lips. This out of all things made you crack a smile. “Paige,” you snapped her out of her short daze, her eyes averting back to yours.

“Yeah?” she mumbled, sitting up straighter now as she reached her hands behind her head to adjust her ponytail.

Your eyes followed her without your head moving for a moment, your smile only growing bigger as you realized why she was staring at you that way. “What?” she questioned, her smile being heard through it, faking her oblivion as she looked at you.

“You’re so fucking horny, bro.” you shook your head, smiling bright at her as she threw her head back, laughing, but she didn’t disagree. What you didn’t know, was that your interaction was caught on camera being televised—and of course screen recorded.

user1. lip readers get on this 😭

user2. Paige is down bad CONFIRMED

user3. The way she’s looking at her omg I physically can’t

user4. PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS!?!?

user5. are they dating?

user6. No

user7. I hope so

user8. nooo way this is real LMFAOOO

user9. her eyes shifting between her lips and eyes ohhh she’s so down bad

user10. FRIENDS DON’T LOOK AT FRIENDS THAT WAY!?!?

user11. wouldn’t be surprised if they’re fucking

user12. these comments are crazy as hell 😭

[ponderingmoonlight]

Saving Genya from his big brother only to make out with Sanemi

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,9k

Synopsis: It was never an easy job, being the only one who's able to calm the wind hashira down. There was never more than respect and understanding between both of you. Until you bodly decided to stand up for Genya, until Sanemi finally reveals his true feelings...

Warnings: We're talking about Sanemi so language at violence lol, aggressive making out

I love love love Sanemi and I desperately hope you do as well hehe, enjoy and leave a comment/like/reblog <3

There he stands with his hot temper filling the air and his ruthless beatings torturing the poor souls in front of you. Hashira training never sounded like fun to you, especially when you consider who you’d have to deal with.

Sanemi Shinazugawa, especially.

“Get back up, brat. We’re not finished yet.”

You watch from afar as he hits the poor red-haired poor over and over again. Without any mercy, without the slightest hint of regret. And still, you can’t help but ponder about the way his arms flex and show every vein that decorates his skin. How he moves so effortlessly that your eyes are almost unable to follow. No, it’s not a secret that apart from being a madman, Sanemi Shinazugawa is hot as hell.

And your crush since you joined the demon slayer corps.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for today? The poor boy isn’t even able to stand up straight anymore”, you interfere when he’s about to hit him once again.

 "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the expert on disciplining. How about me fetching you a chair so you can supervise more comfortably?”

All pairs of eyes are set on you while you step towards the scene in death silence. Apart from everyone else, you aren’t here to train under Sanemi. No, you are a very capable demon slayer yourself, so good that you even managed to beat Mitsuri from time to time. You definetely don’t need Sanemi to train.

In fact, you are here because you’re the only one who is able to tame him apart from Kagaya-sama himself.

"Well, if you ask me so nicely, a chair actually doesn’t sound bad for the next time. Meanwhile, how about we wrap this up? Enough's enough."

Sanemi’s venomous eyes meet yours, tempting you to lose your cool. Within the past few months, you’ve learned how to act around him and that his actions don’t reflect his true feelings at all. Deep within, he is the most caring and compassionate person you’ve ever met, so tender that you’d simply melt away in his touch. He never failed to protect you even if not needed, always made sure you are save before looking out for himself. Damn, he even left his desert for you to eat.

But on the other hand, he’s very good at hiding that side of him.

“Fine. Call it quits for today then. But we two will have a talk later”, he finally mutters before turning around and disappearing without any trace.

Your heart skips a few beats before you’re able to think straight again. Oh, how much you adore him. Just the sheer thought of meeting him alone sends shivers down your spine even though nothing ever happened between you two. After all, you’re only here to look out for him, right?

“Thank you for standing up for me. Now you’ll get in trouble for helping me out”, the red-haired boy lying in front of your feet speaks out while dragging himself up.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I can handle him. Are you alright?”

In the matter of seconds, your eyes scan his body for serious injuries. Nothing, as you expected. Even though his training methods seem rough, he’d never allow himself to truly lay hands on another corps member. Not even him, Kamado Tanjiro. The boy who has what Sanemi always dreamed of.

“Yes, thanks to you. We really need a break after training day and night. Sorry, may I ask you for your name?

“My name is (y/n). Nice to finally meet you in person, Kamado Tanjiro.”

His eyes widen in an instant when you tell him your name. Even though you’re not a hashira, it seems like a lot of corps member know you. A decently skilled swordswoman, a trained doctor who made sure that no one ever died as long as you were around.

“The angel”, he breathes out.

“What an honor to meet you in person!”

In an instant, he gets on his knees and places his head on his flat palms. A pose of deep respect, so intimate that your cheeks heat up in an instant.

“Please, lift yourself off the ground. I don’t deserve your praise-“

“You deserve so much more than that!”, Tanjiro interrupts in an instant.

“Leave her alone. Can’t you see that you’re making her uncomfortable?”, another voice mutters from behind.

A very familiar voice you haven’t heard in quite some time, that makes your heart jump up and down in joy.

“Genya!”, you cry out.

You waste no time. In an instant, you lunge yourself at the now much taller boy and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he cannot escape. Oh, you really missed him. Even though Sanemi states over and over how much he hates his little brother, you always had a weak spot for him. Maybe because you’re able to see his soft side as well or because of the cute way he blushes when you look at him.

“Genya, are you alright? Your face is so red-“

“SHUT UP”, he barks at Tanjiro while you giggle to yourself.

“Why didn’t you send me a crow like I told you to? I was beyond worried about you. But oh I’m so proud. Did you really help to kill an upper moon demon and supported your friends?”

“Well I-“

“Yes he did! He was a big help for all of us!”, Tanjuro interferes immediately.

“(y/n), didn’t I tell you we need to talk?”, someone suddenly barks from the inside.

All color drains from Genya’s face immediately as he turns around with you.

There he stands with his arms crossed in front of his muscular chest, eyes almost piercing through you while the vein on his forehead threatens to pop any minute.

Your heart sinks in an instant. No, don’t let him control you like that, not when you know that he’s just…jealous?

“I needed to talk to Genya first”, you clarify.

“(y/n), please don’t-“

“Oh, is that so? Why would you even look at that trash?”

Thick anger rushes through your veins like the flood. If there’s one thing you hate about Sanemi’s attitude, it’s the way he talks about his little brother.

“I’m looking at you as well, don’t I?”

He flinches ever so slightly, his furrowed eyes now piercing through you like a thousand knives.

“Get inside. Right now.”

“Get some rest you two”, you quickly shout over your shoulder before you disappear into the house with a furious Sanemi by your side.

He slams the door shut behind you so rapidly that it rains plaster.

“What was that, huh?”, he speaks out with threatening low voice.

“I asked your little brother about his mission.”

He cages you between the wall with no way to escape, dangerous eyes locked with yours.

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“And I told you that I don’t care.”

“Why don’t you leave, then?”

“Because I’m the only one who’s able to tame you down”, you bite back.

He huffs in sheer annoyance while pushing himself off the wall. Why does he have to look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so scary but also mesmerizing?

“You won’t force me to talk to him”, he finally speaks out.

“I want him to leave the corps and get as far away from me as possible.”

“Away from you or away from the danger?”

“I don’t care about him.”

“So you don’t care about me as well?”

Thick silence hangs between both of you while you stare at each other. To this day he never revealed how he truly feels about you. Does he hate you, respect you, love you? You might never know. But your influence on him speaks for itself.

“Go to sleep. We’ll get up early tomorrow.”

Without another word, he leaves you standing in a new wave of ponderings and emotions.

-a few hours later-

Your eyes dart open for no reason. Aimlessly, your orbs roam around the dark room, ears searching for a single sound.

Voices. Shouting. Blows.

Blows?

“Big brother?”

Your heart drops to the floor. That’s Genya. Why does the floor start to vibrate now?

Out of instinct, you yank out of your room, follow a wave of destruction until you finally get what’s going on.

There they stand. Genya with fright written all over his face and Sanemi with orbs so empty you’re almost able to see through them.

Your guts turn uncomfortably as he speeds forward so fast that your eyes are almost unable to follow. Fuck, is he about to pierce through Genya’s eyes?

You waste no time. In the matter of milliseconds, you drag Genya to the ground and therefore safe him from Sanemi’s merciless attack.

“Sanemi.”

You breathe out his name like a prayer.

“Get out of line, (y/n).”

“I can’t allow you to hurt him!”, you cry out, hands still holding onto Genya’s trembling body for dear life.

“You leave me no choice, then.”

It happens faster than you’re able to think. He dashes forward while grabbing the handle of his sword tightly, his eyes and blade darted towards you.

But you don’t even think about leaving Genya. No, you stand your ground in front of him, glossy orbs watching as his blade crashes down straight towards your face.

Until it stops.

“I said move”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“And I said I won’t. Leave Genya alone.”

“Are you really putting up a fight with me, (y/n)? Here, right in front of everyone else?”

You couldn’t care less about the stinging fact that the others are watching you drowned in fear. This goes too far without any doubt.

“You don’t have to do this, Sanemi. Not when we both know you love your little brother dearly”, you breathe out.

“Come on Genya, let’s leave”, Tanjiro’s voice mutters behind you, causing a wave of relief to wash over you.

“I don’t love anyone. Not him, not you, I don’t give a shit about anyone around here”, Sanemi barks back at you with nothing but hatred spilling from his mouth.

Genya doesn’t deserve those words reaching his ear. But apart from that, you can’t escape the sting that fills your heart with agony.

Him, not loving anyone? Of course you never really expected the wind hashira to actually like you back. Of course even him respecting you is more than you could have ever asked for. But somehow you still hoped. Each and every night, you imagined what if would feel like to lay in his arms while listening to his steady heartbeat. Every free second, you pondered about how his lips must feel pressed against yours, how it feels to fall asleep and wake up next to him.

And now he tells you that you mean nothing to him.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to avoid his gaze at any cause. No, you can’t afford to lose yourself right here when everyone is watching.

Out of instinct, you straighten your shoulders and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“If that’s the case, I’m leaving. Good night, wind hashira.”

You don’t care about waiting for an answer. All you want to do right now is going back into your room, going back into safety where he’s not around. How stupid to even consider that Sanemi Shinazugawa could feel anything apart from a little respect for you. You, nothing but an ordinary slayer, still too weak to be called a real hashira. You, apparently nothing but a fool.

Hot tears start to swell up your eyes and cause your vision to get foggy. You never allowed yourself to cry over something so minor. What did you expect, a gut-wrenching love story? With the wind hashira?

“Why did you turn your back on me?”

You flinch so hard that you almost trip over your futon.

“What are you doing here?”, you cry out.

Fuck, this is him, without any doubt. What on earth is Sanemi doing in your room? Just now, when you’re looking like a mess.

“Are you crying?”

“Even if I do, why would you care?”

When your gaze drifts towards his, you feel like drowning and taking your first breath at the same time. He looks so distressed that your heart wrenches all over again. Like a lost puppy, he draws closer until he cages you against the wall. His eyes seem to stare right through your soul, make it hard to produce a single logical thought.

“Why would you even think that, idiot?”

His hand yanks your chin up, forces you to stare at him even more intensely.

“Because you said so yourself”, you bite back.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of teaching Genya a lesson.”

“Teaching him a lesson? You’re breaking that poor boy’s heart-“

“Breaking him? I’m saving him, goddamn!”, he blurts out so suddenly that you shake.

“Saving him? What are you t-“

“Poking his eyes out isn’t that big of a deal, he’d definitely survive. But his career at the demon slayer corps would have been over and out, he would have been saved”, he mumbles frantically.

“That would have meant he’s save, that would have meant he doesn’t die in this shit-“

“Sanemi”, your hands grab his face gently, try to get him out of his constant mumbling.

“He’ll die just like our mother did.”

“Sanemi.”

“I can’t fucking protect you all. Not when you’re around as well, not when you’re not listening just like he does-“

“Sanemi.”

When your eyes meet his, he looks like a troubled child scared of thunder. His glossy orbs stare at you desperately, make your heart ache all over again. All that rambling, giving Genya his coldest shoulder…to protect him?

“You’re just as reckless as him. Not looking out for yourself. What am I supposed to do without both of you around? What if I lose you two as well?”

“You won’t lose anyone, I’m good enough to-“

“How can you know?”, he screams into your face, his voice vibrating through every cell of your body like thunder.

“How can you promise you won’t die? One wrong move and you’re gonna bite the dust. Or you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time like Rengoku-“

It might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, so reckless that you’ll lose Sanemi completely.

But you don’t care.

Before he’s able to talk about the grief within the past any further, you crash your lips against his while holding onto his face for dear life.

Over and over, again and again until your mind finally shuts up, until it’s only you and Sanemi and his puffy lips against yours.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you allow your knees to give in, bodies resting against each other so desperately that you feel like dreaming. Countless nights you pondered about the way his frame feels pressed against yours, what the wind hashira might taste like.

Oh, the reality is so much better, so good that you have to convince yourself you’re not dreaming.

“You’re driving me insane. Since the first time I saw you training with Obanai, since you beamed at me with that sickening gorgeous smile. I can’t escape you. I can’t fucking lose you”, he hisses against your mouth before entangling his tongue with yours all over again.

Sparks fly, stars take up your sight completely as you threaten to choke on all the affection and love that hits you with full force.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you breathe out.

“And risking you’ll never talk to me again? You have to be out of your mind.”

“I’m out of my mind because of you. Because you make me feel all those strange things”, you puff out.

Faster than you’re able to react, he pulls his face away from yours enough to almost drown inside your glossy orbs. For a moment, all the does is staring at you as you desperately gasp for air with your chest rising and falling rapidly. This really happened. Did you really make out with the wind hashira after he tried to murder his little brother, after all the fighting and rambling of today?

“You’re my weakness, (y/n)”, he finally blurts out.

“And I hate that power you have over me. Especially that everyone else knows it.”

You tilt your head to the side. Oh, that’s so true. After all, this is the reason why you were sent here. You are here to make sure he doesn’t go too rough on his students, that his hot temper is kept at least a little cool.

Well, given the heat that radiates from him at this very moment, the last part definitely didn’t go as planned.

“They know about my feeling for you as well.”

His eyes widen while he stares you up and down in sheer disbelief.

“Stop fucking with me”, he grumbles.

“You were too blind to realize that I loved you for so long while I didn’t even think about the opportunity that you might like me back”, you admit with your cheeks turning as hot as the sun.

“You fool.”

He yanks your chin towards his face, a small smile decorating his usual so irritated face.

“I’ll definitely never let you go again now.”

His lips crash into yours and leave your mind blank all over again.

“But I’ll still kick your ass for talking to me so disrespectfully and interfering with Genya.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine (thank you sooo much for helping me creating reader for the cover)

[gyusrose]

➵ how they would punish you during sex -> hyung line

lost this request my bad!!! but here it is :)

✎ smut! (mdni)

⚠︎ spanking, degrading, denying orgasm, nicknames like good girl, baby etc. , hair pulling, cursing, blowjob.

summary: while it’s fun acting like a brat, regret swallows you whole soon.

( hyung line x fem.reader)

heeseung -> this man would NOT let you cum for fucks sake. heeseung is very determined, even your glistening tears rolling down your cheeks, begging him to let you come would not change his mind.

he knew you did it on purpose, acting like a brat all day, even in front of his friends. he had to put you in your place. as soon as the both of you got home, he was already balls deep inside of you, knowing that’s what you wanted, what you didn’t know though is that he would pull his fingers away from your pussy as you were about to reach your climax, how he would retract his cock as soon as he saw you about to cum, this lasted for hours. it turned into to something you would usually enjoy to complete torture.

“please hee i need- please i need to cum.” you said desperately. barely being able to form a sentence.

“aw is my little baby frustrated? should’ve thought about that before acting the way you acted today huh?” he chuckled, he’s come many times so he doesn’t mind keeping you like this.

“please please i promise to be a good girl, please i just need to..”

“just because you apologized, cum baby, cum all over that cock.” you didn’t have to be told twice.

jongseong -> jay is normally a very passionate lover when it comes to sex, gentle and sweet, making it all about you. yet when you start acting up, he knows how to fix that.

he becomes a lot more aggressive, spanking you over and over as he fucked you from behind. leaving his hand marks tattooed on your throbbing red asscheek. pulling your hair making sure he could see you fucked out face. he would not allow you to touch him in any way shape or form. even when he switched positions, now fucking you in missionary, your hands would automatically got to his biceps and back, jay instantly smacked your hands away earning whining from you. you needed to touch him, and he sure as fuck knew that. his face cold and emotionless, a complete different person than he usually was.

“aw fuck!! a-ah” another slap on your ass echoed through the room, you know damn well you won’t be able to sit tommorow.

“that’s for flirting with that asshole, acting like a slut in front of me.”

“please baby, let me touch-“

“what did i fucking tell you? no touching, or do you not want to cum?” your fingers tangled through your head in frustration.

after though, jay knows you’ve learned your lesson, and his kind, gentle persona comes back, making sure to run you a hot bath and making you something to eat after.

sunghoon -> please sunghoon would be so cocky. after wearing the skirt he explicitly told you now to wear in front of the other guys, he knew you wanted to tease him. he could not handle the stares his friends would give you when you walked. they all wanted to fuck you. you knew that. having sunghoon and you leave early and pretty much throw you into bed, manhandling you like a rag doll.

this is what you wanted, right? wrong, completely wrong, this is not what you expected at all. sunghoon was thrusting painfully slow. taking his sweet time entering inch by inch. going in and out of your cunt slower than a snail, driving you insane. you had very little patience, sunghoon, on the other hand did.

you tried moving your hips, trying to fasten the pace, but sunghoon gripped them, stopping them. you groaned, begged even to the point of tears. wanting, no, needing more. sunghoon only laughed in amusement. he rarely saw you like this, so submissive.

“hoonie, i’m begging please, just move a little more, please please i can’t take it anymore!” you begged for maybe the 100th time.

“awe, since you asked so nicely baby, i’ll grant you that wish.” he said before he slammed into you full force, fucking deep into you, sending you into oblivion. you could see stars.

“promise you’ll never act like that ever again.” sunghoon said.

“no hoon, i’ll never do that again, ever!” you’ll probably do it again.

jaeyun -> he normally wouldn’t punish you but, jake still knew how to frustrate you and ruin sex for you. when he saw you laughing so closely with his friends while practically ignoring his existence, he couldn’t wait to get you home, gagging on his cock, gasping for air as he fucked your face.

and that’s exactly what he did.

it was a lost cause, you felt his tip at the back of your throat, making you gag, while jake would normally not push you all the way, he did today. not caring that you obviously couldn’t take him whole and just using your mouth as a hole he could fuck into. the lewd noises of your gagging and moist from all the saliva around his cock drive him insane. but that wasn’t it .

while sunghoon moved slowly, jake would not move at all. making you do all the work. at some point it was alright, but you started giving out later. jake knew how to hit the best spots, you couldn’t yourself. while riding him, your thighs were burning, not being able to keep up. you collapsed on jake’s body, more tired than ever. you had yet to cum but your body could physically not do it.

“is my babygirl already tired? “ jake said in a mocking tone.

“mhm please baby, help me.” you said breathing heavily in his ear. sending that you’ve reached your limit jake finally moved his hips into you. soon grabbing your waist as he thrusted deep inside you, sending you over the edge in just a couple of minutes.

“you’re only mine, got that? don’t ever ignore me again, it’ll be worse the next time.”

[chrispotatos]

Unfollowed- chris sturniolo

warnings: smut, p in v sex, idk what

summary: you saw chris' following and he makes you help unfollow them all since it bothers you so much.

a/n: i didn't proofread cause im too tired and i know im gonna regret it when i wake up.

a/n: this was inspired by one of @mattscoquette asks I'll tey and find it when i wake up but I'm literally about to crash out.

"im not playing around with you chris, so stop fucking smiling" you say through gritted teeth, pointing in his face.

You were currently yelling at chris about his insta following. You don't normally check his following because he has your trust and you didn't need too.

His fans were constantly messaging you about it so you checked and it was random only fan girls.

"Unfollow them!" you demanded, handing him his phone back. "why? you jealous" he let out a humorless laugh; infuriating you more.

"they don't mean anything to me" he added you felt as though he was lying straight through his teeth. If they didn't mean anything why couldn't he simply unfollow them "chris it was brought to my attention and it bothers me. unfollow. them"

"all of them" i added

"i don't know about you but this is really turning me on" he snorts grabbing your wrist and putting your hand on his crotch feeling his growing erection, not taking his eyes off you once; smirking. "chris.."

you were flattered while also shocked, for the most part. what you were saying probably wasn't even being heard and if so he liked it. The yelling and you trying to stand your ground and exert dominance, it was cute the affects you had on him showed profusely.

"go lay on the bed y/n" his stern tone made your pussy throb, you were now just as turned on as him.

chris got up from his gaming chair and walked over to the bed, where you were laying propped up on your elbows.

"you wanna demand thing, how bout you do me a favor and unfollow these girls for me, while i fuck you huh?" he told you, not asking nor suggesting.

He pulled your legs off the bed and flipped you onto your stomach, your ass sticking out against him. you let out a suprised gasp from the aggressive toss.

he threw his phone infront of you on his following list. "don't touch shit till i tell you to" you nod in response.

"oh c'mon baby, you were doing all that yelling, and don't have not one thing to say?" he teased. you shake your head making a chuckle leave his lips "alright then"

chris tugged your loosley fitted jeans off and threw them onto the ground leaving you in your panties. He unzips his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers and takes his aching dick out leaking with arousal.

he pulls your panties to the side to feel your soaked cunt, his semi cold fingers coming in contact with your core made you jolt. "Y/n" he warns.

your panties were pulled down and tossed to the side with some of your other article of clothing. you helped by also removing your shirt, but you gave up when you started struggling to take your bra off.

chris tugs your hair back and puts his hand under your mouth "spit" whatever you could form in your mouth you spit into his hand.

he strokes his length, with pre cum and your spit.

chris groans when sliding into your pussy this made you sink your teeth into your bottom lip letting out a muffled whimper.

"Start unfollowing. and say the name of the girls you unfollow too"

he ruts his hips into you, a loud moan following from the sudden movement followed by a low 'fuck'

your focus was on the phone but the sensation of pleasure was a distracting and manipulating your train of thought.

"I don't hear you" he reminds. His thrusts becoming more forceful and deep.

"paige- i unfollowed paige" you squealed screwing your eyes shut and opening them again to finish what was asked of you. "Im not letting you cum until you unfollowed every girl"

That made you fill with haste and begin looking at names quicker atleast you thought you were going quicker. "sid- sidney i unfollowed her" chris makes a makeshift ponytail and uses that as leverage to fuck into you harder.

his dick abusing your insides pumping in and out of your wet pussy. Wet, lewd sounds of skin slapping echoed in the room. chris brings his hand down to your clit rubbing it vigourisly with pressure, leaving your mouth agape, whimpers and high-pitched moans exited your mouth.

"chris- i can't finish reading the names" you admit. "then i guess I'll just have to stop" he begins slowing down his pace "no!" You protest against it picking the phone back up

"thats what i thought"

"mia.. im close" you said "my names not mia" he lets out a humorous chuckle, removing his hand from your hair and hold your hips pushing in and out.

You are reaching your climax and trying so hard not to realese.

his movements were at an ungodly pace making you drop his phone and forgetting why you were holding it in the first place.

with a few seconds passing his actions were getting more sloppy signifying he was getting close to his orgasm.

there was one more girl left then you were done it's not like he followed a whole bunch of them just about 10 max.

"madeline!" you yell out the last girls name, hitting the unfollow button then finishing around him laying limp against the bed. chris feels you up with his seed, your juices mixing; as he plunges his twitching cock in and out of you riding out both your orgasms, he winced pulling out. heavy breaths leaving from both of you. chris flops down beside you on the bed.

waiting a few minutes watching, as your chest rises and falls; catching your breath. "lets get cleaned up yeah?" he suggested.

[luffysprincess]

LIE DETECTOR TEST : ISAGI YOICHI

⊹ summary : the blue lock boys are invited to take a lie detector test, but they’ve got to answer twitter’s unfiltered questions

⊹ pairing : isagi yoichi x reader (established relationship)

⊹ wc : 543

⊹ warnings : reader is referred to as “girl” with she/her pronouns, suggestive, mentions of oral sex, if I’m missing something pls lmk!! MINORS DNI

⊹ A/N : this is a repost from my prev blog bc i wanna continue this series and i cant post the next part without the context from this one so if it looks familiar, thats why. ALSO if anyone has a reblog of bachira's part somewhere pls send me the link!!

⊹ bachira’s version | kunigami’s version

“Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s do this”

“@/isagisbbybgrl asks How big is your dick?”

Isagi had practically choked on his own spit at the question.   “Wha—why is this the first question?!”

“I’m just reading out what Twitter wants to know?”, the interviewer laughs at the shock in his face. “Now answer the question.”

Isagi, Kunigami and Bachira were currently sat side by side across from their interviewer. They had been invited to guest star on LockX , one of the most popular podcasts to date relating to everything and anything Blue Lock. And today they were asked to answer a few fan questions from Twitter all while hooked up to a lie detector. Up first was Isagi, who looked like he was already regretting coming today.

“Like 10 inches” he sighed out. All heads turned to the polygraph examiner— Milo was his name.

“There’s no way—“

“Truth”

Bachira laughs out at Kunigami’s disbelief while the latter mumbles to himself. Something about not believing it till he sees it himself.

“Wait, now I’m curious” Bachira scooted forward and turned to Isagi. “How much of it does your girl take in her mouth?

“What the fuck Megs? Nope. I’m not talking about Y/N here. Not like that.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but more than half these Twitter asks are about her,” the interviewer adds.

“Come onnnn Yoichi”

“Fine. All of it. Next question”

“Milo?”

“He’s telling the truth” Milo nods back, while the room fills with whistles and cheers to Isagi, who’s hidden his face behind a hand but can’t help the proud smirk that grows on his face at the thought of you taking all of him.

“Okay okay” the interviewer laughs before he directs his next question, “User @/mysagiballs asks where is your favorite place to kiss a partner?”

“Hey at least this one’s not about Y/N”

“Ehh it technically is,” Bachira counters.

“It basically is,” Isagi sighs once again, finally accepting that this is what the rest of the interview will be like. “Her lips, that’s my favorite place to kiss her”

“He’s lying.”

“Wha- No I’m not!”

“Another lie”

“I feel like of all the questions you’ve been asked, this is the most mild.” Kunigami speaks up.

“But you’re lying about it, which means there’s something juicy you’re hiding” Bachira teases.

“Fine, her cheek”

“Still lying”

“Seriously Milo!”

This continues on for a few minutes, Isagi calling out a bodypart and Milo calling out his bullshit.

Her neck. Lie. Her shoulders. Lie. Her hands. Lie.

Meanwhile Bachira and Kunigami have practically fallen off the sofa in tears, laughing at how frustrated Isagi grows with every call of his bluff.

“Between her legs, alright?! I’m not getting any more specific than that. You can figure the rest out yourselves I’m sure”, he glares at Milo as he grumbles out his final answer.

“That was the…truth”

It takes a few moments for Bachira to calm down from his hysterics but then he’s teasing Isagi for being so naughty, giggling at the sight of his friend aggressively ripping off the cuffs and sensors connecting him to the polygraph.

“Yeah yeah, laugh all you want now but you’re going next.” Isagi grins at him, excited to see his friend suffer the same as he did.

[sanemistar]

husband!sanemi x fem!reader drabbles

you still can’t believe that you and sanemi got married. him going from being your nemesis once to being your beloved precious husband whom you’re ready to spend the rest of your life with was something you never expected to happen, but it did. and if you could go back in time you would definitely choose marrying him again.

this also means that you now carry his last name so you sometimes forget that some people start referring to you as ‘shinazugawa-san’ instead of your maiden surname and you don’t realize until later on that they are calling for you and not sanemi.

marrying you never fails to bring insane amounts of happiness to sanemi’s heart. him waking up to your beautiful face next to him every morning after sleeping on an empty bed after years of yearning for someone to warm up his empty sheets feels like a dream to him.

his heart skips a beat every time you refer to him as your husband in front of others especially his fellow male hashira members. it gives him a sense of belonging he’s been desiring for so long.

even after years of marriage sanemi’s ego still skyrockets whenever you call yourself his wife, reminding everyone (including himself) again and again that you exclusively belong to him and him only.

he’s very obsessed with you and will make sure to remember every single occasion involving the two of you: the day you first met, the day he confessed to you, the day he proposed to you, your wedding anniversary. you name the occasion and he’ll prepare a celebration for every single one of them, he wants to make sure you feel loved and special and he will do anything for you to the point of spoiling you.

arguments with him don’t usually go for too long because he can’t stand the two of you not speaking to each other for longer than half a day, but that doesn’t mean that they go too easy. he sometimes speaks to you a bit too harshly but instantly regrets it after he cools down and directly apologizes for his behavior. and you always forgive him because you know how hard he tries to restrain himself from acting in a toxic manner, and because you know that he deeply cares for you and wants you to have nothing but the best.

sanemi as a husband overall is surprisingly very sweet and romantic, despite his usual mean and aggressive demeanor that ends up scaring most people away. at first, he struggled trying to express his love for you as it was a foreign feeling for him he’s never felt before meeting you. but eventually he succeeds in expressing his feelings for you clearly, being able to let the sweetest words freely come out of his mouth to you will always be his greatest achievement.

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : established relationship, threat, confrontation, hurt / comfort wc : 1.2k

you had always known that your ex was trouble, but you never expected him to show up at your doorstep after all this time. it had been months since you’d broken things off, and you were finally starting to feel like yourself again, finding peace in your life. but all of that was shattered the moment you opened your door and found him standing there, his familiar smirk making your stomach churn.

“miss me?” he drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe as if he had every right to be there.

you stiffened, your hand tightening around the edge of the door. “what do you want?”

he shrugged, as if the answer should be obvious. “i’ve been thinking about you. figured i’d drop by, see how you’ve been.”

the audacity of his words made your blood boil. after everything he’d put you through - the lies, the manipulation, the constant mind games - he had the nerve to act like you were just another one of his conquests he could revisit whenever he felt like it.

“i’m not interested,” you said firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. “you need to leave.”

his smirk widened, as if your resistance only amused him. “come on baby, don’t be like that. we had some good times, didn’t we? no need to throw it all away.”

you felt a wave of panic rising in your chest. he was the same as ever, using that smooth, persuasive tone to try and worm his way back into your life. but you weren’t the same person you were when you’d been with him. you were stronger now, more sure of what you wanted - and more certain that he wasn’t it.

“i said leave,” you repeated, but he only took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as his expression turned from playful to dangerous.

“don’t act like you don’t want this,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “i know you. you’ll come around, just like always.”

before you could respond, a shadow fell over the doorway, and your heart skipped a beat. you hadn’t even heard logan approach, but suddenly, he was there, stepping up behind you with a presence that seemed to fill the entire space.

“you heard her,” logan said, his voice low and deadly. “she’s not interested. now get lost.”

your ex’s bravado faltered for a split second as he looked up at logan, clearly not expecting anyone else to be there. he took in logan’s tall, muscular frame, the sharp glint in his eyes, and the way he carried himself with a confidence that screamed don’t mess with me.

“and who the hell are you?” your ex sneered, trying to regain his composure.

logan didn’t so much as flinch. “someone who’s not gonna ask again. walk away now, before i make you.”

the threat in logan’s voice was unmistakable, and you could see the hesitation in your ex’s eyes. he wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone like logan, who looked like he could break him in half without even trying.

“this is between me and her,” your ex said, though his voice lacked the earlier confidence. “it’s none of your business.”

logan took a step forward, his stance aggressive, and you felt a surge of relief and gratitude wash over you. “it became my business the second you showed up uninvited. so, i’ll say it one more time - leave. now.”

there was a long, tense moment where it seemed like your ex was considering whether or not to push his luck. but whatever he saw in logan’s eyes must have convinced him that it wasn’t worth it. he scoffed, taking a step back.

“fine,” he spat, his bravado crumbling as he realised he was outmatched. “but don’t think this is over.”

“it is,” logan said coldly. “you show up here again, you’ll regret it.”

your ex shot you one last look, a twisted mix of anger and disdain, before turning on his heel and stalking off down the street. you watched him go, your heart still racing, but as the distance between you grew, so did your sense of relief.

once he was out of sight, you let out a shaky breath, your whole body trembling with the adrenaline of the encounter. logan, still standing protectively by your side, turned to you, his expression softening.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle, so different from the cold, threatening tone he’d used with your ex.

you nodded, but the emotions of the moment were overwhelming, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself leaning into logan, seeking the comfort of his solid presence. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and the warmth and strength of his embrace was exactly what you needed.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “i don’t know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

logan pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “you don’t have to worry about him anymore,” he said firmly. “i won’t let him hurt you.”

you pulled back slightly to look up at him, your eyes filled with gratitude. “you didn’t have to do that, you know.”

logan’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “of course i did. i care about you, and ‘m not gonna let anyone treat you like that.”

your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your chest ache with affection. logan had always been protective, always looking out for you in his own gruff way, but this was different. this was him showing just how much he cared, how much he was willing to do to keep you safe.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you murmured, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor yourself to him.

logan smiled, a rare, soft smile that he seemed to reserve just for you. “you don’t have to do anything. ‘m here because i want to be.”

he leaned down and kissed you, a slow, lingering kiss that felt like a promise - a promise that he’d always be there for you, no matter what. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your cheek.

“you’re safe with me,” he whispered, and you knew, without a doubt, that he meant it.

and as you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you realised that with logan by your side, you didn’t have to be afraid of anything - or anyone - ever again.

[astrologydayz]

ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES🔞 - NATAL CHART4

VENUS CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE MARS in a MAN'S CHART shows us a man who's passionate AF in bed. When he fucks somebody = he fucks with his whole entire being. They're masters at knowing what people need, &want sexually = they see through people's desires, &turn ons, & turns themselves into that. That's also why people usually end up coming back 2 these men - they don't need a manual from u2 know how to play with your body in the right way. These men are confident, charismatic, beautiful, & they never fail at getting what they want. They usually don't need2 work very hard anyway, as they're already noticed, &checked out by everyone, everywhere they go. They can make sweet sweet love2u, but also fuck u with a passion, like it's their last mf day on earth. Amazing at switching between the2. They're romantic, sensual, loving &hardworkers in bed! But they can also be rough, wild, &passionate! They'll satisfy your needs4sure.

VENUS SQUARE/QUINCUNX MARS IN A MAN'S CHART can show us a man who's 2 "passionate" for his own good. "fuckboy/player energy". Issues with always being this "2cool for feelings" bro - he's outta there when it gets 2serious. U can chase him, but won't be able 2 catch him 9/10times. He got mad game tho, won't ever have a problem with getting somebody in2 bed. He loves the flirting game beforehand, &he loves the chase. "He wants what he can't have". He can be kind of "aggressive" in bed, & this man def knows how to fuck, but it will be all about getting him off a lot - "my needs are more important than yours, boo". He can also be into degrading kinks - like spitting, choking, slapping, name calling etc. Not2 make him sound like a dick tho, cuz if he already told u what the deal was beforehand = can't complain afterwards, can u now?

MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE JUPITER can show us a person living&breathing for sexual pleasures. Like they can be so fascinated/interested in sexual pleasures that it can become almost like a religion2them. They want 2 know EVERYTHING, always learning, &always improving. They study, &"explore" people, figuring out how 2make them cum easily/what "triggers" them - like, what works, and what clearly doesn't. They have an easy time, when it comes2 their "studies" with these aspects = A+. They got a sexy ass confidence, and amazing knowledge, which is unmatched, &they're proud, but still humble in their approach, which many people can find REALLY fucking attractive.

MARS SQUARE/QUINCUNX JUPITER can show us a person being 2 obsessed with self gratification/or 2obsessed with sex/sexual things in general. They can have EXCESSIVE sex at times - unmatched stamina4sure, but their "moral code" can sometimes end up becoming "blurred"/not thinking about the "consequences" - they end up letting themselves down/they end up regretting who they've had sex with/or ends up regretting to have even done something in the 1st place. Can also be 2 over confident, &2 impulsive in their approach - some people can think that they have a "god complex".

LUST IN GEMINI 🧡 = can get turned on bc of the way someone articulates themselves/someone's mindset, by voices - accents/language/s, hands/fingers. Can be REALLY in2 oral/handjobs/fingering/toys where hands are involved/dirty talk. They LOVE it when someone tells them exactly what they need&want sexually - They need that communication. They also get wildly turned on when someone outsmarts them - streetsmart/booksmart, doesn't matter, as long as their intellect is challenged, &u got banter = you're in4a win. LUST IN CANCER 💙 = turned on by emotionally driven people/turned on by people who's in their emotions/turned on when someone NEEDS them, turned on by breasts/chests/stomachs. They usually also love gentle touches/gentle caresses in their most sensitive zones. They like intense, emotional & close sex - also, the kind where it's prolonged 4as long as possible. They want2 get as close as they can, they can't get close enough really. They want2 make love, not fuck. At least most of the time. LUST IN SCORPIO 💜 = turned on by dominance, power, submissiveness, loyalty, soul-felt intimacy, secrets/secret fantasies, by taboo stuff,"bad girls/bad boys"/by people who's had it hard in life, &by shadow sides. They want2 merge with one person, &one person only TYPICALLY, so they're usually wildly attracted to monogamy. They want soul blowing sex - the kind where they think about it 24/7 afterwards, &can't think about anything else - they want2 remember touches, moans/sounds, & the intense feelings they experienced. They can definitely be into bdsm, but only with the right ones. Rebirths/transformations are prominent here.

LUST ASTEROID - 4386

MARS/8TH HOUSE IN CAPRICORN IN A WOMAN'S CHART typically finds older people way more sexually attractive, than people at her own age. "Daddy issues" can show up here. She wants2 learn, &advance herself - but still needs the feeling of being "taken care of" at the same time. She's sexually attracted 2 people who knows themselves, & knows wtf they want2 do in life. She finds bluntness, stability&matureness sexy as hell. She does not play games - Immaturity is something she gets turned off by❌. Can 100% be into bdsm/or rougher sex. Chains/handcuffs⛓️ - bondage, candle dripping, choking - endurance, etc. Edging can be a biiiig thing here. Sexually attracted2 people who's taller than her&typically slender/2people that got piercings/tattoos, amazing bone structure/2people who's experienced sexually - or just in life, like work, or just in general. Or at least, more experienced than her.

MARS/8TH HOUSE IN AQUARIUS IN A MAN'S CHART shows us a man who's sexually attracted2 people who's very/or completely different than him - looks wise/or personality wise. Sexually attracted2 people who stands out/looks different/2people he can see/meet online, 2people who's "nerdy" in their own way, eccentric&experimental people, people who's original - and not fake. Fake people turns him off asap . Can also be sexually attracted2 people who his family would never approve of - kind of like a "rebellion" thing. He likes unexpected/spontaneous&freaky sex. He's usually into trying everything - as he is an experimentalist & a student of physical science = won't hold back until he's tried everything - he wants2 know it all. "Film maker" in the making baby🎞️🎥📱. He can have a thing for sleeping with friends/or wanting 2. Can def also be into "the more, the merrier" in the bedroom, not always ofc, but I've seen it a lot, so I'm def mentioning it.

VENUS/EROS IN ARIES/AT 1, 13, 25° = ARIES DEGREE ❤️ points 2 someone wanting a lover that's fiery, passionate & brave. They want2 be swept off their feet, &they want someone who's not afraid2 go up 2 them, &just start some flirty/sexy banter. They find confident, honest, &brave people sexy😍. They need someone who's not about games, as they don't play games themselves = if they want something, they take it. They can be impulsive, &quick on it, but when a decision is made = nobody can change their minds, besides themselves. They're sexy, fearless, &direct. They can be into rougher touches, marks being left behind👋, hair pulling, fast but passionate, & rough sex. "sex on an impulse".

VENUS/EROS IN TAURUS/AT 2, 14, 26° = TAURUS DEGREE 💚 points2 someone being sexually attracted2 beautiful/seductive, sensual, gentle, but dedicated people. They can be quite picky when it comes2 choosing a lover, & they won't just pick "John"/or "Karen", just bc he, or she is the last one standing. They won't settle for less than they deserve - at least not in the long run. REALLY into kisses up, & down their neck&body/also around ears! &get that tongue involved2, they'll worship u, &Remember u4life🫦👅💋. They're extremely sensitive in these places, & usually can't hold back on how much their body ends up being affected - like goosebumps arising, them shaking, moans etc.

VENUS/EROS IN SAGITTARIUS/AT AT 9, 21° = SAGITTARIUS DEGREE ❤️ points2 someone wanting a spontaneous, adventure seeking, & "free"/"free spirited" lover. They need someone who's not about putting them in a cage, but all about experiencing life's pleasures - as they themselves are very free, & not about putting up "strict boundaries". They're sexually attracted2 easy going/but curious, "well informed" & nonjudgemental people. Can definitely also be sexually attracted2 people from different cultures - or 2people from foreign countries, & 2people who's not "confined". They wanna be challenged, &they wanna learn from/&with their lover, &get their mind expanded. Can be into sex out in the open/into being stimulated in public, & can be really into trying new, & spontaneous things when it comes to sex - they wanna spice things up often, as a routine can become2 boring for them.

DICK ASTEROID - 17458 ASPECTING WEBB ASTEROID - 3041 IN A MAN'S CHART = can show us that his dick can be found online somewhere📱📸/or it has been online4u2 find. Can ofc, also just mean that he's been a fan of sending dick pics/videos, or is a fan of sending dick pics/videos.

KLETT ASTEROID - 2199 ASPECTING WEBB ASTEROID - 3041 IN A WOMAN'S CHART = same as above, she's just not sending dick pics tho😂. U know the deal babe.

CUMMING ASTEROID - 14348 CONJUNCT 9TH/OR 12th HOUSE/HOUSE RULERS shows us a person having sex with people/strangers on vacations/"vacation flings"/or when they're staying abroad. OR someone being really sexually attracted2 people from different cultures/foreign countries, ofc.

IF A MAN got his CUMMING ASTEROID - 14348 IN LEO = expect it everywhere, really everywhere. He's big on showing off, &big on making it rain ☔️ .

HAPPY NEW YEAR, &THANKS4READING!!!

Appreciate you, always!!!💘

[oldermenlvrgrl]

Filthy animal

Logan doesn’t regret much in his life but pushing you away is his biggest mistake.

Logan howlett x human! reader.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: hella angst to cry to, swearing, excessive drinking, loss & grief, his fighting era, dark themes, he’s an alcoholic, stalking, insecurities, depression, anxiety, memories of sex & sexual themes, kissing, talk of breeding/pregnancy, hormones, ovulation, mentioning of self harm, a/b/o themes, he eats raw meat like a feral animal.

A/n: to the one person that wanted me to write this, between when origins end and x-men begins era. He has a bike in this before he goes to the academy idc he’s hot when he’s on a bike

The house is too quiet. The log cabin stood on a mountain top overlooking the vast earthly landscape below. His fingers trace over the wooden bannister of the front door. Feeling every crevice and panel. His mind is numb to the feeling of longing. He doesn’t even know why he did it anymore. The pain in his chest that never yields is too unbearing. He sighs, locking the door and leaving it behind him, like he did with you. Locking away the love he had for you in a cage and leaving it behind.

He goes to the bar, the only place known to give him comfort is at the end of a whiskey bottle. A fat stogy lit between his fingers. The smoke dancing in the air. He doesn’t care that he’s told to not smoke. He nurses the glass, hunched over the bar. Aggression flaring up his face. A hungry dog with food aggression bowed over lapping at liquor. He clenches and opens his hand, feeling the metal under the skin gyrate.

For weeks this is all he has known. Lumber yard (when he shows up), fighting cage, bar and home. It wasn’t even home without you there. You were the only thing that was home to him. Now that you were gone he didn’t have a home.

“Now introducing…the Wolverine!”

Logan gets up staggering along the sea of people. Putting the head of the cigar in the drip of whiskey that resides in his glass. Shedding his flannel and his tank to his bare chest. His veins pulsing and his vision impaired. They open the fenced gate and his head is hung down as he focuses on walking straight. He never planned to win this fight. He didn’t want to. He wanted to get the shit beat out of him so he can feel something other than grief.

The man before him is about seven foot, a mutant with the way his skin is stretched. The bell rings and they size each other up. Walking around the cage. They don’t speak and he prefers it to be that way. He raises his fists and cowers his head behind them. The abomination swings and hits him in the side of his head where his ear is. The hit wasn't normal, the hit felt like he got his head run over by a train. He smiles knowing that this beating was exactly what he lusted after.

He staggers up against the side of the cage. The coldness of the metal burns his hot skin. His drunken eyes look at the crowd and he faintly imagines that he sees your silhouette. Another hit to his abdomen. He holds his arm over his stomach and holds onto the fence. He stares out with unsteady eyes to where he sees a mirage of you wearing his dog tags around your neck. Your pretty neck, your pretty hair, your pretty face. His pretty girl. He starts to smile wider, white bloodied teeth. The blood poured behind the crevices in his mouth. Down his chest. Speckling his skin with rogue.

His head rears back as the abomination throws his fist into his nose. Blood starts flowing down his nasal passages. The square part of his chin where it’s shaved is covered in fluid. Another, another, another. He’s surprised he’s not missing teeth as he’s sprawled down on the white plastic floor in a splattered bloody pool. His torso, bruised and battered. He’s laughing. It’s taxing as he feels his broken ribs poke into his lungs. He watches the man parade around him in a victory lap, money starts being handed to and fro. Cradling his ribs as he continues to laugh. He laughs at himself, at how much of a joke he is. How he doesn’t have any restraint or respect for himself. He’s a mockery of who he once was. He looks to the crowd once more to see your face and he doesn’t.

The usher lifts him up and shoves his balled up clothes into his chest. Telling him that he’s banned from the establishment. He’s a joke to the fighting scene and to the bar. Logan isn’t sure if it’s the concussion or the liquor that makes him hear “come back tomorrow.” So he pats the man on his shoulder with a bloodied grin and goes back home.

He drinks himself to sleep that night. If he doesn’t drink, he can’t forget and he’d rather go bankrupt with all the liquor he buys than to remember you. There’s a part of him that desperately latches onto your memory. The bits and pieces that were domestic.

He doesn’t even bother going to the yard. Deep down he knows he’s fired, he couldn’t care. He sits in his big empty wooden cage and just watches the sun change into the moon and stars. Fighting off war flashbacks and memories of you. The only cure is whiskey, and he hadn’t eaten in days. His hunger only grows with each passing day. He can’t eat anything after remembering those home cooked meals you made him.

Nothing suffices. His house was destroyed after he purged it. His couch was torn to shreds, his clothes, and walls. Everything. He didn’t have a television or radio.

So he sits in a leather chair overlooking the mountain in the loose boxers that hang loosely around his hips. His legs spread wide and out, his arms lazily laid over the rests. His bicep only flexes as he sips from the lip of the bottle. A lit cigar he lethargically puffs on occasionally, feeling the burn in his chest simmer down his stomach. The tendons in his neck bulge as his heart rate rises. Fuck, he thought about you.

He thought about the times he’s hurt you.

Once it was deep in his sleep, you cradled against his broad sweaty chest. The sheets scattered in the dark. One of your legs kicked over his torso. His arm around your back, pushing you closer. His body is rigid and tense. His body feverish as he perspires. Sweat drips along his brows and temples.

His face winces as he watches his brother dismember innocent people before him. The hopeless desperate yearning he feels in the pit of his stomach grows. He feels nauseous as his face twists in agony. He shouts and shouts to no avail. The metal between his knuckles, pushing out. He grows anxious.

He feels you shuffle and that’s when he slices your upper arm. Your breath staggers as you jolt awake with fearful eyes, he’ll never forget you pulling away from him. He stands from the bed, watching you with horror, stricken across his pale face. He watches your feeble hand touch the blood that welts from the wound. The sheets draped over your torso as you stood and walked to him. He doesn’t look into your remorseful eyes as your soft red painted hand comes to touch the hair on his face. Cradling his jaw in your palm. He doesn’t welcome your warmth, he doesn’t deserve it. As your touch lingers, his claws retract.

“It’s just a scratch.”

You whisper softly. He doesn’t listen.

“It’s just a scratch.”

He mutters to himself as he takes another drink from the bottle. It wasn’t just a scratch, not to him. That single cut meant that he couldn’t even protect you from himself. How was he supposed to protect you if he contributed to your harm? He thinks of another memory.

He was close. His abdomen tightening and his balls drawn tight. He feels your walls constrict around the thickness of his cock. Pulling and tugging with each bounce of your hips. His head thrown back into the pillows as he grits his teeth together, thick eyebrows furrowed as he concentrates on feeling your wet slick coating his wide thighs. The smell is brutalizing him. The smell of your cunt weeping for him.

He peeks and watches your breasts bounce and your nails dig into his hairy chest. The hair on his lower stomach glistening with your slick. He bucks his hips up into your core, hitting that spot deep inside your womb. He feels your heated breath on his neck. Your nipples brushing against his own as you lay on top of him, the metal of his dog tags pressed between each of your chests.

Allowing him to bury himself inside you. His strong hands hold your hips in place, your legs widening to let his aggression grow. He pours everything he has into breeding you. His heart hammers against his chest as he hears your whimpers. The silent cry of yours to breed you full of his pups.

He growls deep in the back of his throat. Jackhammering his thrusts, the filthy sound of your squelching cunt is music to him. The sweet smell of your ovulation makes him drunker than any whiskey. He can’t control himself anymore. He ruts and ruts against your puffy pussy as you squeal for him to slow so you can breathe. He doesn’t and continues to pound into your pelvis, rocking your entire body against his. It’s painful how hard and fast he’s pulling you down. His legs half bent as he pulls your ass down to touch his thighs with every thrust. He growls as he pushes all the way inside and releases his seed into your weeping cunt.

The pain from his bleeding knuckles is excruciating but not as much as the quiet squeak from your little mouth. He pulls his head up and sees the little slits he made on your thighs. He lays his head against the pillows with a long sigh. Knowing that he couldn’t bear hurting you anymore. He couldn’t have you baring his pups and risk hurting you.

He couldn’t even get hard anymore without you. He couldn’t smell your hormones, couldn’t smell how desperate you wanted him. It wasn’t the same without you. He drinks. The cigar burns the inside of his index and middle, he doesn’t care. He lets it scorch his tanned skin. If it burnt the entire cabin he wouldn’t care either. He remembers the night he ended it with you.

He was drunk to the point where he was a vegetable on his leather couch. Shirtless and only in his dirtied torn blue jeans. He waited until you got home after work. He made up his mind a couple days ago and he didn’t have the courage to do it sober minded so he drank himself to it. He smelled you before he watched as the door knob wobbled and you stepped forward. He hated how beautiful you looked and his stomach twisted. You had groceries and a pretty smile on your face. It turned into a frown as you saw him with the bottle.

You asked him if something happened at the yard and he said no. You took the groceries into the kitchen after kicking the door closed with your foot. You started taking the groceries out and putting them into the cupboards. The raw meat you had to get from the local farmers was bloody as you put it in the fridge. You turned to get another item and were met with his glossy eyes. His mouth turned into a snarl. His eyes glanced over your confusion and his heart weakened. He desperately wanted to comfort you, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t in his nature to. His chest heaved as he looked at the inscribed dog tags around your neck.

“I want you out of my house.”

His words were heavily slurred, but he knew you understood them as your brows pinched together and you stopped looking for things to put up.

“What?”

It was weak and it killed him. He stared at the wooden floor, taking another swig. He raised a thick eyebrow and looked down the curve of his nose at you with blurry hazel eyes.

“You heard me.”

You shook your head and placed your hands on the counter, trying to ground yourself. Your world was falling apart in front of you.

“You’re drunk.”

You say meekly, barely above a whisper. He doesn’t reply. That was true, but the saying drunken words are sober thoughts still apply. A wave of emotion hits you, and your eyes water. You sniffle and turn to him. Your Logan wasn’t there. His eyes were glossed over and he was a shell.

“You don't mean that.”

He watches your bottom lip wobble and tears fall down your face. His heart drops and he drinks. His lips polished over with alcohol. The tension is thick and restricting.

“What happened to our future together? Where you wanted me to be your wife and to have your kids?”

You look down at your feet as you cry.

“When you said you’d never leave and that I’d always be your girl?”

He doesn’t speak and resentment grows in your heart.

“Is there another girl?!”

He doesn’t know why but you insinuating that he’d be able to love another woman than you angers him. His snarl grows and he shakes his head.

“Answer me!”

You push his chest and he stumbles back. That enrages him, his claws push out. He puts the bottle on the counter and pins your hands together and pushes your hips against the wood. You try to move and get his grip to loosen but it doesn’t. He pins you with your hands together behind your back and his body pushed against yours. His hands pulled into fists as he attempted to control his anger. He smells like liquor and his musk. He smells your fear and sees the same sorrow he feels.

“No. There’s never been and never will be. If you come back to my house and if I ever see you again..”

He trails off and looks to the bottle of booze, not wanting to admit it but deep in his heart he knows it’s for the best.

“I’ll kill you.”

You frown and choke out a sob as he lets you go. He stands in the middle of the kitchen with his head downturned. He hears you weep as you gather your things. Dreading the sounds of hearing the wheels of your suitcase trail down the wood. He hears the door open.

“You don’t mean that.”

He listens to the door close and the scent of you leave. Fury rages through him as he destroys everything around him, it doesn’t matter if it’s handmade or expensive he ruins it. He destroys his entire house trying to defile the thought of you. Destroying everything you’ve touched or reminded him of you. He wanted to destroy himself.

He decided later that night he had to see you. Had to breathe in your smell and that’ll fix him, put his mind on track. He was still scared as hell to hurt you, but the agony of being without you is greater than the risk of hurting you. Logan was selfish and all he wanted was you.

He sat outside the building where you worked on his bike and waited. Perched like a predator waiting for prey. He was surprised that he was steady enough to even get there unscathed. He sat on the side of the road, not in the parking lot. The engine turned off and he listened to the birds chirp. He made sure to not let you see him. Digging into his pocket he takes the fat cigar out and places it between his lips. Taking the lighter and cupping his hands around the flame as he puffs it to life. The embers burn and the smoke swirls around his head. The evening slowly dying into night.

Raising his nose to the air and sniffing as he smells your hormones. Your car pulls out of the lot shortly after and passes him. He sees the side of your face through the window and his heart burns. Your face is puffy and gloomy, completely contrasting the sunshine you exude.

Chewing on the end of the cigar, he starts the motorcycle and turns behind you. A good couple cars between him and you to separate the distance. He follows you down the familiar path down to your parents house. The long pine trees and barren fields full of crops. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he’s doing or what he’s going to do. All he knows is that he needs to see you, something primal deep inside him tells him that.

He pulls into an open field, overlooking the farm house. Staring with foggy eyes as you pull in. Gazing at your car door as it opens and you step out. He leans forward to fully look at you as much as he can from the distance. Whistling low at the pretty sight. Then as if you were never there you leave his sight and enter the house. He sighs, leaning back on his bike. Looking to the sky he determines that night shouldn’t take no longer than an hour. He waits.

He waits with a cigar between his plush lips. His hands flexing on top of his thighs. Clenching and opening, enticing the burn of his knuckles spreading open. Observing with eager eyes as each light in every window turns dark, except yours. A wishful smile spreads on his face. Knowing the next thing you’re about to do before going to bed is cracking your window open, and without fail he sees your little hands opening the pane. His heart soars as he’s proud that you’re still his girl. Still, having the same habits and quirks he’s grown to admire.

With that, he takes the cigar from his lips and pushes the end into the palm of his hand. Snuffing the smoke and flicking it into the field. He swings one of his long legs over the bike and starts his trail down to your window.

Begrudgingly, he comes to terms with having to climb up the side of your family's house to your room. The ivy woven into the side provides a grip for his climb. The poor gutter he tried to climb groaned and cried as the hinges unscrewed from the roof as he tried to pull his body weight up it, so the ivy would just have to be adequate. As he climbs, your scent grows stronger and his head starts to get fuzzy. The toes of his boots stuck between some panels. The broad pads of his fingers stuck on the window sill.

Propping his head up, he watches you lay on your bed watching television. Some movie played that you weren’t too keen on paying attention to. If you looked over you’d be able to see his wild hazel eyes and his tufts of hair poking far above his head.

You move to lay on your other side and he wishes to see your pretty face again. Without fail and as overplayed as it is, you truly were a sight for sore eyes. He listens eagerly to your mother’s voice beckoning you to dinner. Like the good sweet girl you are, you obey. Getting up from your bed and walking over to your door. A hand outstretched and touching the knob, but hesitantly, you pause. Logan’s heart drops and the hair on the back of his neck perks up. Can you see him? Your beautiful eyes wander over to the window screen and he ducks his head. Almost losing his grip and falling into the grass below. Your mother yells your name again and he doesn’t pull his head back up until he hears the door close.

He takes one of his hands and summons the metal between his knuckles to grow out. Cutting open the side of the window screen, he pulls it to the side. Hoisting himself up and over into the other side of the window ungracefully.

He’s not as nimble as he once was. He falls on his hands and knees with a loud thud, similar to a cat. He stills, anxiety rushing to his face as he listens for a reaction. Only hearing the chatter of common conversation between your parents and you, he stands. Reality hits him with a rush of adrenaline. He’s in your room. What the fuck is he doing? Guilt crawls up his spine and he flicks his head, ridding the fear. He needs this. His fingers trail over various objects in your room. Wooden dresser, mattress, vanity. His slow saunter stops as he looks at your vanity closer, his dog tags nestled with a Polaroid tucked under the chain.

The weekend your parents took you both camping. He was supposed to propose to you on that trip but got cold feet.

You’re sitting in a little dress on one of his spread thighs in a lawn chair. The neck of a beer bottle was between his fingers over the side of the arm rest. You’re wrapped behind one of his big burly arms. The veins and muscle in his bicep flexed. Caging you to his strong chest as he holds you close. He’s only wearing his white sweat and oil stained tank. He just got done working on the bike, trying to figure out why it’s making a funny noise and arguing with your father about something. It’s evening time and the sun is shining between the maple trees. Everyone waited eagerly as your father grilled dinner. Your cheeks are rosy with a big precious smile as his face is shoved in your neck, pressing kisses into the tender area making you giggle. Your mother took that picture.

He swallows thickly as he sits with that feeling deep in his chest. Logan knows what he did was wrong and he feels like a reformed prisoner in his own mind. The duality is that he is also the police officer always beating him with a bat, constantly repeating the same behavior that has caused him to get in the prison. He loves to self sabotage and he fears that this fatal mistake was the end of it all. All he was and ever will be is an animal.

A strong aroma hits him all at once, he lifts his face and sniffs the air. Oh, god. It’s your clothes. Your smell is on all of them and it's surrounding him. Suffocating him. Something spurs him to start opening drawers. He pulls out various clothing, shirts, and jeans are too faint.

Pulling out another drawer, he goes to his knees. Panties. He grabs a handful, one of them being a devious pair of white cotton that has your name embroidered on the top and shoves them into his leather pocket of his jacket, closing the drawer. Stealing one of your dainty shirts that had your scent on it the strongest and holding that to his chest. He holds it to his nose and takes a long breath in, holding the smell deep in his chest. He almost moans as he exhales. He feels the front of his jeans tightening and his metal belt buckle poking his abdomen. He groans and adjusts the crotch of his jeans, trying to ease the discomfort, but it only makes his fervor grow.

He stares at himself long and carefully in your vanity mirror. An animal is all he sees, stealing your clothes because he can’t bear not breathing your scent. A pervert even. He smiles at the names, pride swelling in his chest. The pride is shot with a steady arrow as he hears a set of footsteps coming up the hall. Looking frantically for somewhere to hide, he figures your closet would be as best as he’s going to get. He makes sure that everything was in place as he first saw it and barricades himself inside your wardrobe.

This great and powerful Wolverine had fought in many wars and witnessed things that not even the most seasoned veteran can survive. Yet, he’s scared of the judgment of a woman he’s in love with. He’s sweating bullets, fat dwallops of sweat rolls down his hairline and neck.

Through the slits in your door he watches eagerly as the towel wrapped around the bust of your breasts falls. His breath stutters and he balls the shirt up and presses it against his mouth to stifle his hurried breaths. His almost green eyes roll back in his head, watching your bare breasts contort along with your body as you bend over to find clothes in your dresser. The smell is unbearable, the fresh scent of your dewy skin. The warmth of the water falling into every hidden crevice that only he can see.

His stomach growls. His starvation is growing worse. He palms his hard length. Raising your arms you put on one of his old hockey jerseys he gave you. He groans and his head thumps against the back wall. He can’t bear it. What if he jumped out and ravaged you? Would you be upset? He’d never forgive himself for it, but the need for release is far too much for him to withstand. You’re just a little woman, he couldn’t do that to you. Defile his sweet girl and breed her, only in his thoughts he entertains the thought. Stepping into some of his old boxers too. He’s been wondering where those had gone. Maybe he and his girl weren't too far off. Cut from the same perverted cloth.

You crawl into your bed with a deep sigh. Cuddling up with some childhood teddy bear. He watches your heavenly face twist as you cry into the fur of the bear. His heart breaks. He’s defeated, he hates to see you cry and it’s even worse when he can actually feel the sorrow fill his heart. He stands there for what seems to be an eternity watching you break down into a helpless little girl. Broken and distraught. In that moment he knows that you’d never love him the same.

He waits until your puffy eyes close and the soft snore falls from your parted lips to leave your closet. Closing the door behind him, he stands before your sleeping beauty. Admiring your face from afar. Logan is a hated man and he’s never cared, but he cares all too much that you do. He goes to his knees, quietly. Tucking your shirt into the waistband of his jeans. He tucks a fallen strand of hair behind your ear and kisses your nose gently. As gently as an animal like him could. Pulling up your blanket under your chin.

“I’m sorry.”

He whispers. He stands to his feet again, marveling at the memories he’s had with such a dream of a woman in the glow of the moon. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the wiggle of the door knob and your mothers breath of your name. He twists his body and jumps out of the window. Again, he lands on his feet and he runs. He runs on all fours. Dirt getting under his fists as the claws give him leverage to run faster.

Your mother places a gentle hand on your shoulder as she sits by your feet. Blinking your eyes open, you look at her with blurry vision.

“Logan?”

He’s panting and his eyes are wild as he flies down the road on his bike. Feeling as if he just robbed a bank. He’s a wanted man. You know that he was there. You had to. The deep pit in his stomach is too expensive for you to not have.

As soon as he’s up the mountain and parks haphazardly in front of the cabin, he’s stripping off his clothes. He’s burning alive. He’s left only in his tattered jeans. His stomach twists and turns and before he knows it, he’s pulling out every single meat he has in his fridge and tearing it open. He feasts like a wild animal. Tearing the plastic open and the blood dripping down onto him. His chest and jaw slathered in dead animals. Pork, poultry, cow it’s everywhere. He doesn’t care if it’s not cooked, his hunger is far greater than his rationality. He doesn’t even breathe as he devours. His hands were coated in blood like he murdered someone.

When he finishes he stares at his destruction. Only bones were left in various places. His torso was even coated in red. He groans, chewing the fat of some animal and swallowing with a gulp. He finds whatever beer he has in the fridge and pops the lid off with his claw. Taking a prolonged gradual swig. Your shirt, surprisingly, still hung sloppily and pure under his belt.

He roams to his trophy case, full of all his war memorabilia and opens the door. Taking the wooden case full of cigars out and putting one between his bloodied lips. He sets the bottle beside the case and lights the cigar. It’s almost as good as an orgasm. For the first time he feels full. His needs were almost completely met. The only thing missing was you. He walks sluggishly to his open front door, leaning his shoulder against the frame. Switching between smoking and drinking as he listens to the night's ambiance. Listening to the wild animals howl.

Just a game of hide and seek was all it was. It was Fall. The leaves were scattered like a carpet on the floor of the woods. It was a random day where both of you were off and rather going into town, he thought it’d be fun to teach you how to fish. After multiple failed attempts of you becoming bored, he decided to play a game with you.

The game was completely rigged. Who would’ve thought the man with insane primal senses would be great at finding things that didn’t want to be found. The adrenaline was catching up to you both as you sought after him. The widespread woods were winding and confusing, but you were determined to find the animal. The cold nipped at your face as you kept your perseverance. Suddenly, you stopped. Realizing that instead of you finding him, and him staying hidden he reversed the game and was trailing you. A peculiar feeling arose, the thought of him following you without you even knowing coiled your stomach.

All of your theories were proven right as his big arms wrap around your torso and pulls you down into the leaves. He laughs heartily against your neck as you push up, straddling his waist. You hit his chest softly.

“You filthy animal I was supposed to be hunting you!”

He shakes his head with a small smile, squeezing your hips as he stares up at you with childish eyes.

“Maybe you’re just not that good of a hunter.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open.

“Hey!”

You hit his chest again, and he sits up. Kissing your nose.

“It’s okay, lil’ bunny.”

It sincerely unnerves him how unobservant you were. How oblivious you were to the world, but that same reason is why he loves you. He loves that you’re different, even if you were human you understood what it felt like to be a mutant. He flicks the end of the cigar down into the asphalt and closes the front door. The blood on his body is dried and caked on him. Stripping the rest of his clothes in the hall as he goes to the bathroom. His house is still trashed and he doesn’t care to clean it until his life is put on track again. Until you’re in his life again.

He turns on the faucet and lets the water warm. Looking at himself in the mirror while he waits. He looks righteously like an animal. His hair wild on his head, the blood goes from his mouth down to the v-line of his hips. It’s brutal and chaotic. He wonders if this is what life is going to be like for him for the rest of eternity. Nature made him a freak, man had made him a weapon, and god is making it last too long. The water blurs the mirror and he no longer sees himself in the reflection. He steps inside the scalding hot water and his thoughts don’t slow.

All he’s thought about is you, all he can think about is you. You’re the last thing that’s keeping his humanity. Without you he turns into this beast of regret. He watches the blood pool around his feet. The blood mixed down his chest and face and down the drain. He wishes to drown but knows he can’t. He wishes to die but that’s too humanly for him for it to be possible. Maybe even love was too human for him to obtain. He thinks about calling you and then it passes. He thinks about his mother for a minute and that passes. Every wave of emotion, feeling and thought passes through him as he cleanses his body. He stays in that sauna of a shower for an hour.

When he gets out he pats his skin dry from one of the towels you bought out of the cupboard and ties it around his waist. Pushing his wet hair back it slicks back and stays. He knows he’ll wake to the two tufts being straightened on his head in the morning, he doesn’t bother. Bending down, he picks your shirt up off of the hallway floor and holds it to his nose. Closing his eyes and breathing in your intoxicating bodily perfume. He can already smell it fading. It’s damp from the water still clinging onto his chest. He sits down on the leather couch that he’s shredded. Contemplating if he should call, it’s late and he knows you have work in the morning. He shouldn’t bother.

The smell of you gives him motivation. What if? What if she does misses me and wants me as much as I want her. That’s blasphemy, he thinks. Yet, he ponders it seriously. He breathes in your shirt once more and finds the phone he’s thrown against the wall a couple weeks before. He dials your number apprehensively. His nerves shot to hell as he holds the phone to his ear. The buzzing and monotone hum of service sends his perturbation to his chest. His stomach clenched tight with bated breath. He hopes that you don’t answer, but his soul wants you to. He almost thinks about hanging up and it continues to ring. What is he even going to say? He doesn’t know. He never knows. His eyes widen and he doesn’t breathe as he hears your sleepy voice.

“Hello?”

You whisper into the phone and he doesn’t say anything. He’s internally panicking, on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“Hello?”

You whisper again and he doesn’t speak, his head is in a frenzy and his hand is shaking.

“Logan?”

When you say his name he drops the phone. Trepidation strikes him. He hadn’t heard you say his name for weeks and the sleepy softness of your voice sparked something in him. He’s scared of that feeling, petrified even. Logan Howlett’s only fear is love.

He fell asleep with your shirt cradled tight into his chest. The morning’s sun is the only thing that awoke him. He didn’t fall asleep that night until dawn. He was too paranoid and scared to fall asleep, the anxiety of possibilities kept running through him. He sighed and the feeling he felt was worse than any hangover. He knew he was broke in every way possible, he didn’t have any money, he didn’t have anything. He didn’t even have you. He groaned and cursed himself as he saw last nights doing in his kitchen. He honestly doesn’t remember anything after what occurred at your house. He didn’t have any food left nor any liquor. He had to do one of the things he hated the most, grocery shopping.

His strong anxiety was almost numbing to him now. He’s felt so high strung the past few weeks that he’s used to it. He strolled through the store with a shopping cart that had one of its wheels broken and he almost thought god did it purposefully to mock him. He wandered helplessly through the aisles, grabbing miscellaneous food. Knowing most of it wasn’t going to even last him the rest of the week, but he needed something to get by.

Most of his cart was filled with strong liquor. He wanted to forget you and move on, and maybe finally kick the bucket with alcohol poisoning. He’s reaching into the fridge to grab another case of beer when he feels a soft tap on his shoulder. His stomach drops. It couldn’t be. He stands and looks over his shoulder and sure as shit, there you are.

You have a little smile on your face and your cheeks are dusted red by embarrassment. Looking to your feet, you see a pair of cotton panties peeking out of his jacket pocket. Your cheeks grow a darker red as you see that your name is embroidered on the top.

“I- uh, I-,”

You shut your mouth tight, cursing yourself for the hurried stutter and if he wasn’t so nervous himself he’d think you being flustered was cute. You look up at him through your lashes. He takes notice of the flint of his dog tags around your neck and his heart soars.

“I’m cooking dinner tonight at my parents house and was wondering if you’d like to come,”

You scratch the back of your neck, uneasily. Beaming timidly.

“You don’t have to come of course! And it’s just if you’d like if you’re not busy, I’m cooking steaks and I know you like-“

“What time?”

Your rambling stops and you give him the best kid going to Disneyland look he’s ever seen.

“Six.”

He nods and you smile. The trajectory of his life seemed to be on track again. This was the right timeline.

“I’ll be there at five.”

You smile wider.

“Thanks, Logan.”

He gives you a small smile and nod of his head in response. You start to turn to leave before turning back, looking both ways before you whisper to him.

“If you wanted a pair of my panties, you could’ve just asked.”

You give his cheek a quick kiss and walk away with a bounce in your step. Leaving him blushing and blinking at the case of beer in his hand, trying to figure out what actually just happened. Those small moments that are just so humanly indescribable makes him feel much less like a filthy animal.

[twentycuben]

©. 𝓷uts by lil peep

시원하게 지내세요 (,,>ヮ<,,)! mdni!!!!!!!!!

syn. usually, heeseung manages with ur bratty attitude, but now he is too pissed of with you.

!genre smut. this is my first time writing smut so PLEASE. Bear WITH ME 😭💔 fluff. angst if u just SQUINt lmao

smut warnings. heeseung is mean, reader is very bratty!!, rough sex, degradation, mild?- slut shaming, spanking, unprotected sex BUT ITS NOT REALLY MENTIONED ?? idk if u squint guys 😭😭, aloooooot of dirty talk. etc. not proofread oops

YOU WERE REGRETTING ALL OF YOUR CHOICES. maybe it was the short, short tiny skirt you wore, maybe the way you looked at your busy boyfriend from across the room with that so fucking pure and innocent look on your face that made heeseung want to fuck your brains out. heeseung had been busy the whole time, and pushing you away. so you wanted to get your revenge, but now you realized that it wasn’t really the smartest choice ever.

"you fuckin’ happy now brat?"

heeseung pulled you by the hair, resulting in your back arching and eyes rolling back while heeseung continued pounding into you, not stopping his brutal thrusts in your tight hole. "answer, slut, you wanted this so bad. didn’t ya, princess?" he chuckled, watching you be a bratty bitch to your face being all fucked up, begging for more, his cock twitching at the sight.

you on the other hand, was bent over the dinner table. since you were being such a brat and an impatient slut who couldn’t even wait to be until he was done. he couldn’t careless to bring you to the bedroom, fucking you dumb on the nearest flat surface. "answer, or I won’t let you cum princess."

"want— want more seungie.." you slurred, couldn’t even bring yourself to speak correctly due to the fact your eyes were rolling to the back of your head. he scoffed at how pathetic you were, yet his cock can’t stop twitching at how your pussy clenches around his big member. listening to his cock, not his brain, he then pulls out before slamming aggressively back into your worn out hole. "fuck, baby, your pussy is so warm and tight just for me. all for me."

"so impatient. because my baby knows I’m the only man who can fuck her this good, isn’t that right ya’ fucking brat?" he spanked your ass, leaving a red mark on you, not stopping his pounding even if he was near to breaking the table. "s—seungie! wan m—more!" stammering and mumbling your words, heeseungs hips practically snapping on your ass.

"brats like you don’t get what they fucking want, got it?" he speaks in a low tone, his hands on your waist, gripping onto you tightly, he just can’t get enough of you. almost bruising your fragile body. "you love me ruining you huh? fucking your pretty little brains out, asking for more like the slut you are." he degraded you, being pushed to his limit when he hears your soft moans that are like music to his ears.

"seungie—!" you moaned out, heeseung caused the table under you to shake violently. you felt like your were closer and closer to cumming and painting heeseungs big cock white. "come on baby, fuck.. your so tight shit.." heeseung knew he was close too, fucking you so hard that he was thrusting in a relentless speed.

"oh.. oh fuckfuckfuck.." heeseung repeated, closing his eyes as he came in your puffed up and sore hole. he thrusted in you, riding his orgasm before eventually pulling out to see how fucked up and messy your face looked. he moved the hair out of your hair, smiling.

"did so good for me princess, shit, you look so fucking hot. now, turn around pretty girl.

first time writing smut.. I am sososo sorry to the people who followed me for d fluff. 🥲 btw I suck at writing smut as you can tell sawrry