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𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!Reader x Suguru Niragi

Summary: The borderlands were already dark, they made you numb to death so long as you survived. When you become the object of desire for two psychopathic and sociopathic men, one of which is your ex lover, you find it harder to drown out the emotions you’re feeling and demons you’re facing. Do you give into the dark desires and madness? But…aren’t we all already mad here?

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual situations, murder, death, manipulation, psychoanalyses, drugs, alcohol, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, more to be added as I write.

Genre: Alice in Borderland, very dark romance, angst, smut, a little fluff if you squint

Rating: Whoever is mature enough to handle the warnings above but recommended to ages 15 and older. DO NOT read if you are triggered by any of the things listed above.

Word Count: 5k

[Taglist] @bonnyskies @mylifeisafxingmess @kasaikawa @mercipourleslivres @dragoneye01 @bubb1ee-gum@nocturne181 @somegirl29 @pajerita19 @ddaenysus @imagine-t-h-a-ttt @queentorresstuff @rebirth-of-destruction @celestiacq @ryreads @beeissleepy

A note from your author — I’m so sorry this took so long, I just got out for summer vacation after an extremely stressful year so I’ll be way more active now. I have decided (with much hype from @imagine-t-h-a-ttt ) to post this in parts so I could give y’all something in appreciation for dealing with me. Expect more soon!! (It might not be AiB exclusively but I will be writing more)

The borderlands was a place where anyone and everyone was alone for themselves when it came to survival. “It’s every man for themselves,” you’d often tell yourself after a game since you walked away, sometimes alone, and others didn’t. After participating in your first heart’s game you learned that, and it was forever engraved into your mind. When you were cruelly taken from the real world you were alone in your room after your nightly shift as an SDF officer. All of a sudden the lights went out whilst you were changing out of your uniform before a shower which you never got to take. Deciding to investigate the outage, you threw your uniform back on and unbuttoned the jacket revealing your black sleeveless undershirt while keeping your green cargo style uniform pants and combat boots on. After grabbing your knife and placing it into your thigh holster, you explored your neighborhood to find that everyone was gone, cars were randomly in the street as if they had been stopped out of nowhere, and you were in fact alone.

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Scene of Love // The Darkling x Reader

Summary: The moment Aleksander realizes he’s in love.

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova (The Darkling) x GN!Reader (Shadow and Bone)

Word Count: 797

Warnings/AN: None. P.S. running out of Aleksander gifs that include just him so if you are a gif creator... hint hint.

Quick Links: Masterlist // Request Guidelines

Beyond the Little Palace laid a pond.

The pond was small, the color of sage, but reflected the sun as it shone above. Its alcove covered by heavy yields of trees; every one different. Their barks bending or white, leaves turning from green to an alluring array of autumn shades.

The cove was the color of the golden sun.

From the distance he kept, Aleksander reveled in the silhouette of you.

As the water nearly glowed, your face had been turned aside. A slight overturn on your right shoulder, Aleksander found himself incapable of looking away. His gaze set, drawn to the creature before him that illuminated with the light. Your distinctive features ornately carved by the beauty of the early afternoon, drawn to life by a slight movement of your lashes fluttering, the tilting of your head upwards toward the sun. A brilliant shining diamond amidst a sea of natural occurrence.

Your head jutted over your shoulder, etching him into your vision with a coy, demure smile before shifting forward once more.

It was so simple, so easy to imagine the joy you emitted.

Aleksander had forgotten what that was like. How it felt to be free of burden or task; his duty to his goal was too great of an accord to focus on something as benign as love. Aleksander had resigned himself to a life of distance, of apathy and sorrow. Needs met and fulfilled by passing faces to never be thought of again, reticent to the defining moments of life missed. Aleksander had never allowed himself to love—until you.

You were everything he was not. You were kind, good. A warm heart and hand to hold when days carried that burden too heavily; a forgiving smile for the mistakes he had made in the past. You learned from him, talked with him, understood him like no other. The blame of his choices were not scolded onto him. The one he loved did not act superior to him or ask to be treated as less. You were an opposite equal: someone who demanded the same respect and status but held hands instead of breaking them.

Your heart was amiable.

The way your eyes shone in the light of the golden forest, he wondered how they could gaze upon him with an affectionate lust. He was bad. A clichéd villain of type, while you provided his good. Yet you remained standing as he drank in the sight, relishing in your own mind how his eyes ranked over your form over and over in complete adoration—even if he hadn’t vocalized it just yet.

It was a rather simple concept, love. The action was difficult. A process of understanding another’s faults and convictions, truths and hardships. In the end, Aleksander would realize he needn’t know any of those things about you to love you. Love didn’t have to be complicated. It could be as simple as admiring another from a far and falling in love with their minute movements and playful gaze.

It was enough to make the heart pump faster. Enough for his words to cease and grow forgotten in his memory. His palms perspired further, his stomach feeling lighter and tougher at the same time. Hypothetical, banal butterflies filled its space with a realization that he had never felt such a way before.

Aleksander was in love. He was in love with you and while he may not admit it aloud in a few moments or months ahead, he would never forget the second he realized the feeling was real. It wasn’t a children’s story or fairytale to expand upon with lies, it was absolute. A near palpable emotion that invaded every sense and smell. Everywhere he turned, you were lingering in his vision or nose. The scent of your body, the trail of your fingers or eyes, the romance that flowed freely from them; easy to give, to maintain and protect, although he hadn't ever realized it.

How easy it had been to give his heart away when the right one stood lengths away, your own heart already given and captured by the shadowed man aside the trees.

As the emotions breached the stone-cold fortress around his heart, Aleksander forever engraved the sight before him as the sun encapsulated his reason for further existence. Purpose flowed with love, surged his desire to protect and ensure a prosperous future. For a man who had convinced himself he was not suitable for love, not worthy of feeling the very vulnerable emotions that accompany it, Aleksander had found it. Locked safely in the golden woods beyond Os Alta, a memory secured in his heart and mind eternally.

Aleksander may have lived many lives, had many names, but he would only ever have one love: you.

--- Darkling Tag List ---

(Tag list for all Darkling works published by me!) @mrs-brekker15

@aleksanderblack @mizelophsun11 @aleksanderwh0r3 @alltheloztboys

- If you would like to be tagged to the Darkling tag list, please let me know and you'll be added. You can reply to any post, direct message me or send a message to my inbox.

Village of Shadows - Ch.5 (Dark!DC/Resident Evil 8)

Series Masterlist Here

Summary: Just what exactly has John done?

Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon past mentions, angst

CHAPTER 5 - In Hot Water

*Do not replicate/rework/translate my work anywhere else without my express permission. This story is on A03/Tumblr/Wattpad. Anywhere else, it is likely stolen.*

“Luv, why are you looking at me like I've grown three heads?” John gets a little worried.

I wanted to ask him about what Superman had said before I went any further, just in case it was something terrible. From the sounds of it, it might be and I wasn't prepared to journey on with him at my side if that was the case.

“Spit it out!” he's shuffling nervously. “I don't like the way you're starin'.”

“Why did you impersonate my husband?” I finally ask.

I went for the direct route. If he was innocent, he could deny it but by giving a definitive statement rather than a question, if John was guilty he'd show me soon enough.

And show me he did.

He gaped for a moment, eyes blowing wide before he tried to speak a couple of times and failed utterly. All the colour drained from his face as well. From everything John had told me after the demon attack, he was quite the con artist, an accomplished liar so evidently this had caught him so off guard that he couldn't think of a lie quick enough to spout back.

“It's true?!” I step back. “Superman was right?!”

“It's...” he fumbles over the word. “It sounds bad. I know it does but I didn't mean any harm.”

“What did you do, John?” I took another step back.

“It were before you got up the duff,” he starts fiddling with a cigarette, picking at the loose tobacco at the end. “I promise I wasn't stalking you or owt. I'd not seen you since the tube station incident. I were just...I was in a really bad place. I'd lost someone I cared about again and spent weeks in a black hole of bad vices. I started thinking about you, memories of that weekend. You were the only person I ever had the sense to get far away from me before I started liking you too much. I should've done that with Jace too but the lad wouldn't leave me be and things went from there.”

“Get to the point.”

“I checked up on you. Saw you had a fella, nice house, nice life. I were jealous that you were so happy and loved up. Maybe I could've had that life with you, who knows? Oh who am I kidding? If you'dve been mine, you would be six feet underground by now. I just...I wanted to know what it felt like, to have a normal life, a spouse. You have no idea how many people I've buried over the years, lass. No idea.”

“So you stole my husband's identity,” I feel a little sick. “For how long?”

“Just a day, I swear!” he looks panicked. “I watched him for a time to get some mannerisms, spelled him to sleep for twenty four hours in the shed and lived a day as your husband. We went to a café for breakfast and you told me food puns about every single item on my plate. We got the weekly shopping in and you snuck a load of sweeties into the cart when you thought I weren't looking. You made me casserole for dinner and it were the best thing I've ever tasted because you made it with genuine affection. I remember everything about that day.”

I rolled back in my memories, trying to find the time he was talking about but something was sparking in my brain about a time when my husband was overly complimentary about my cooking rather than making jokes about it. I thought he was trying to butter me up about something and we'd ended up...

“But I had sex with him that day,” I realise with dawning horror. “After all the compliments, we used some of the dessert to have some fun and....that was you?!”

John starts biting his lip, “I...I didn't mean for it to go so far. I didn't. I promise you that wasn't the purpose of me shifting into his appearance.”

“You could've stopped me at any time, John. You could've said you weren't in the mood or whatever but you just let me carry on and you had sex with me. That's...”

“I know. I know,” he moves backwards himself, looking completely ashamed. “I can't justify it. What I did was unforgiveable, I know that. I felt terrible after that day and I swore I would never visit you again. This is the first time I've seen you since.”

“Was it worth it?”

“No,” he admits. “All it did was make me long for something I could never have. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Your husband was a good man and you were good for each other. I nearly ruined that with me own selfish needs.”

I feel numb, like I have no control over my body. I never thought he'd be capable of such deception but he'd blatantly said to my face he was a con artist. I just never imagined it would be to this degree.

Then a new wave of nausea hit as something else popped into my head.

“John...it wasn't long after that day I found out I was pregnant,” my voice is a little hitched at this point, my mind reeling.

“Wait...” I've never seen John so deathly pale. “No...”

“If my son is yours and that's why Superman has him, if that's why my husband was torn apart, I'm going to fucking kill you,” the steel has come back into my voice. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

I will my shaking legs to move further into Arthur's territory, not knowing exactly what to feel. There I was feeling guilty for sometimes fantasising about John and I'd unknowingly fucked him again. Not only that but he might be the father of my kid as well. I could understand the reasons why he'd taken my husband's appearance and I might have forgiven him for the ordinary day to day impersonation but I couldn't forgive the sex.

“You can't go alone,” he catches up to me. “I know you hate me but you can't do this by yourself.”

“What part of 'stay the fuck away' don't you get?!” I whirl around to face him. “Do you realise what you did?! If I'd of known it was you, I wouldn't have consented. You didn't give me that choice and you apparently didn't even feel guilty enough years later to stop me kissing you before I saw the psycho clown.”

Again he tries to speak a couple of times but can't get the words out. He seems defensive, like he wants to rebutt my statement but knows it won't go well for him if he does.

“Say it then,” I provoke him. “Let's get everything out into the open, shall we?”

“Fine,” John grits his jaw. “Don't pretend like you're a fucking saint, lass. That time I watched your house and studied your husband, I heard you getting yourself off while he was at work and it were my name you moaned. Once I might have thought was a fluke but it were a few times. Maybe if I'da strolled right in as meself you would've jumped on me like a bored little housewife and I wouldn't have had to do the whole song and dance with your husband's face.”

“You fucking bastard!” I go to punch him but he's expecting it this time, grabbing my wrists and pushing me backwards until I hit a tree. “I would never have done that!”

His expression softens, “I know. I know you would never have cheated on him. You're not me, you're not a fuck up. That day I was him was the most loved I've ever felt.”

“So why did you say that?”

“Because there's some part of me that hopes you don't want to cut me out completely after this, that you still want me,” his eyes are shining with unshed tears. “Hearing you cum with my name on your lips drove me mad.”

“It was a fantasy, John. We had such a wild weekend together, the kind of sex you see in really niche pornos and it's fun to remember sometimes. That doesn't mean I gave you permission to do what you did.”

“I'm sorry,” he repeats over and over, letting me go. “I know it was wrong, that's why I stayed away but I can't stay away now when your life is on the line. I definitely can't stay away now I might have a son whose life is on the line too.”

“No, you'll keep Superman away from me whilst I deal with Arthur alone,” I say clearly. “I've killed Diana and her daughters and I've outfoxed the Joker and Harley. I can do this on my own.”

I push past John and I half expect him to come after me but when I turn, he's leant his hand against the tree looking defeated. Slowly he meets my gaze.

“Alright then, go deal with Arthur but be careful. Please be careful. I'll keep things quiet out here but promise me you'll shout for Etrigan if you get in trouble.”

I just nod. That's all he's getting right now.

“I'm sorry,” he says a final time. “If I have to spend a lifetime saying it, I will and if your kid is mine, I will do whatever you want me to. No contact or full dad mode. Your decision.”

He leaves through the gate before there's a flash of swirling symbols and he vanishes from view.

Now I'm alone, wandering up the path that's getting progressively boggier as I go along and my boots keep nearly getting pulled off my feet as I walk. Mud is creeping over the lip of them, soaking into my socks and squelching in my shoes but I carry on, trying to step on more solid ground when I could see it.

I feel like I was too preoccupied with what had just happened, too deep in my own thoughts about what John had done and the fact my son might be his. What if he was right though? What if he'd shown up as himself instead, after all the not very innocent fantasising I'd done? I'd like to think I was a good and loving wife, that I would never do anything to harm my husband emotionally or physically but what if I wasn't as nice a person as I thought I was? What if the lure of a rose tinted memory was too strong in that moment? I mean, my husband had been dead for less than two weeks and I'd already kissed John.

Maybe I was just a terrible person in denial about my own sanctimoniousness.

I kept making mistakes as I got lost in my own mind and nearly fell into the bog until I finally got to a land barrier and saw a lake beyond it that flowed through a tunnel in the rock face.

I saw no boat, saw no bridge or way to get across other than swimming through the tunnel which was very dark and particularly uninviting. The water wasn't much better, not clear enough to see the bottom and I had no idea if anything was in it.

I couldn't go back now though, I couldn't go fetch John to help. I had to do this by myself.

I slipped into the water as gently as I could and yelped a little at how cold it was. The thin dress was doing nothing to keep me warm and the chill was already creeping into my soul as I got submerged. It took my arms a minute just to unlock before they'd start moving, propelling me through the cold water towards the tunnel. Once I'd gotten into it and my eyes had adjusted a little, I was at least pleased to see there were lights running along the top of the cave and I wasn't going to be swimming blind.

That joy only lasted a brief moment though before something grabbed my ankle from below and yanked me under the water.

I cannot tell you how bad the situation in Afghanistan is. After 20 years, US troops are leaving Afghanistan and NOTHING HAS CHANGED. In just this month alone, the Taliban have taken control of 8 provinces. And now it's being predicted that the Taliban will take control of Kabul as early as this month.

For the love of God, I never beg for anyone to reblog anything but please please please reblog this. Do not wait until the Taliban takes over the capital of my family's home country, and do not wait until Al Qaeda attacks the US again.

Bakugou x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.1k

!!: sex 18+

Part of the Mixtape Melodies Collab! Also thank you Kitten for helping me figure out a damn banner because my brain didn't know what to do.

Bakugou doesn’t want to be here, and he’ll do almost anything to leave

Leaning against the bar, you scrutinize everyone in the club. Hazy red and blue lights light up a dance floor and some of the plush, black seating surrounding large tables. Off in the corners of the room, business meetings pass, men in suits posturing to each other. Groups of friends flow from tables to the dance floor, some of them breaking off for the bar.

Mina sidles up beside you and loops her arm through yours. Leaning against you, one of her bright pink space buns tickles the exposed skin at your shoulder. “There’s a lot of potential here tonight.” 

Three more friends return from the bathrooms and join your small group. Drinks ordered, you all settle in and survey the prospects. “Anyone in particular catch your eye?”

“There’s a cute redhead out on the dance floor,” Ochako gestures to a tall man with red hair dancing without a care in the world. 

“I might just stay here at the bar…” Jiro’s voice and eyes drift off to the bartender – a woman with jet black hair whom she’s been crushing on since your friend group started coming here.

“And you?” They look at you expectantly. You scan the crowd one more time. Plenty of people for you to choose from. But you’re looking for a challenge. Lifting your drink to your lips, you let the amber liquid warm you from the inside out.

And then you see one stubborn asshole glued to the wall. Target acquired. You nod in his direction. “Blondie against the wall.” Four sets of eyes follow your gaze. Yes, he’d be a fun challenge. “Alright ladies.” You tip the last of your drink into your mouth and smile. “Stay safe, good luck, have fun!” With that, the five of you spread out with a deadly grace – searching for a little fun.

Across the club, Bakugou scowls at anything and everything. He doesn’t want to be here, but Kaminari and Kirishima abducted him from his apartment saying that he had moped too long and needed a change of scenery. 

Bakugou does not mope. He does not sulk, nor does he lick his wounds over his recent breakup. He spends his time outside of work brooding and making sure that he won’t run into her any more than needed.

The bright lights and pounding bass do nothing to help improve his mood, and his ‘friends’ who brought him here have left him to his own devices while they party it up. If they wanted to go out, they could’ve done it without the pretense of ‘cheering him up’.

It’s just a bunch of drunk people grinding on each other to feel alive. Bakugou runs a hand through his hair and checks his phone again. No missed messages, no notifications, and only five minutes have passed since the last time he checked. Great.

A voice barely reaches his ears above the music. “All on your own?” He looks up and sees you standing in front of him. Your black dress hugs your body in all the right places, and your heels look dangerous enough to stab a man in the heart.

“Not interested.”

“Would you be interested if it would get your friends to stop paying attention to you so they could actually look at the women trying to flirt with them?” you raise an eyebrow in challenge. Bakugou barely manages to hold back an eye roll. You don’t know him at all. He couldn’t give two shits if his friends got their dicks wet or not. Hell, cockblocking them sends a vindictive zing of pleasure through him. 

“Don’t care.” He returns to his phone, expecting you to take the hint and leave him alone.

There’s a small puff of air at his side as you lean against the wall next to him. You purse your lips and cross your arms. That might work on other dudes, but he’s so not interested right now. “I’m playing wingman tonight,” you complain, “And your mood is killing it.”

“‘S not my problem.”

“What if I can get you out of here so you can go back to whatever man-cave bachelor pad you crawled out of?” Bakugou’s thumb hovers on his phone screen mid-scroll. That got his attention. A free pass to leave this hellhole?

He slides his phone into his pocket and truly looks you up and down for the first time. You’re a stunner, he’ll give you that, but he’s had enough of people who look beautiful on the outside only to be rotten at the core. Nothing in life is free, so what blemishes are you hiding beneath your carefully manicured exterior? “What’s in it for you?”

Your eyes lower to half-mast. “You gotta show a lady a good time.” Your smug smile sets him on edge. “Dance with me first.” Bakugou stares at your stretched out hand. You drive a hard bargain. But if he can get out of here, he can spin you around the dance floor for a minute or two. He stares at your upturned palm. It’s only one dance. He can do that.

Putting his hand in yours, he lets himself be reluctantly dragged out to the dance floor. You lift his hand and spin yourself before getting a feel for the beat. Bakugou stands there, jostled by other bodies around him. 

His brain might as well be screaming like dial-up internet right now. Dancing? He agreed to dancing? He doesn’t fucking dance. Why make a fool of himself where anyone can watch? 

The song blends seamlessly into the next one and the beat speeds up. “You better not stand there like a stick the whole time,” you laugh and throw your hands into the air.

“I don’t dance,” he replies gruffly.

“C’mon,” you sidle up to him and put his hands on your waist. With how close you are, there’s barely any room for a piece of paper between your bodies. Your fingers trail up his arms before lightly resting on his shoulders. You start moving with the beat and guide him into a groove.

He’s stiff at first, unsure of how into it he should be and how long to keep his hands in one spot. He spies Kirishima across the room casually bobbing to the music and Bakugou imitates his movements; if he doesn’t know what he’s doing, then he can fake it till he makes it.

A brunette in a pink crop top and high-waisted black pants dances past you and whispers something in your ear. Even with the loud music, he can’t make out what’s said, but based on the way you laugh, you must know the woman. You step back out of Bakugou’s personal bubble and dance with your friend for a beat or two before she disappears back into the crowd.

On your own, you move more freely, and Bakugou uses the time to let his eyes roam your body. You seem confident out here like you don’t give a shit about what’s going on around you or who’s looking.

God, the way your hips sway mesmerizes him. He reaches out and steps closer to you, your ass lightly grazing the edge of his crotch. Bakugou pauses for a second as if waiting for you to pull away. That’s all he’d need right now; to be branded a creep and more fucking rejection — and from some rando at a club no less. 

You surprise him by leaning back against his chest, your arms making their way up to lazily wrap around his neck and head. The movement pushes your breasts together, and what a sight they are.

You tug his head toward your mouth to be heard over the music. “I promise I won’t break.” One of your hands trails down your chest and covers the top of his hand before moving it down to your hip. He can take a hint. Pulling you flush against him, he grips you and lets your ass grind into him. His other hand wanders up your side, grazing the side of your breast – an action that has you pressing harder into him.

Bakugou doesn’t even care that his erection is straining against his pants or that you can feel it. He chases the intoxicating, subtle scent of your perfume and finds his face almost buried in your neck. The red and blue lights aren’t as annoying now, and the music moves through his body. 

Fuck it. He can relax for one night. He can not think about work, his love life woes, or the fact that he was brought to a shitty ass club on the excuse of his friends wanting to get their dicks wet. If he can imitate Kirishima’s dancing, then he can borrow your carefree attitude until he leaves.

Jasmine.

With a hint of rose and sandalwood.

Fuck.

That scent was once ingrained in his soul. It wove itself through the spare set of linens that are now buried at the bottom of his closet. He used to associate it with the blissful euphoria of being buried deep in the woman he loved.

And now it causes his stomach to churn and a sense of dread to trickle down his spine. The cloying scent sticks to his lungs and makes it hard to breathe.

Bodies jostle him as he abruptly stops moving on the dancefloor. This isn’t a trick of the nose. She’s here somewhere. He knows it. He nearly gives himself whiplash searching the whole damn room searching for her.

And when he sees her… his brain stops.

Bakugou wipes his sweaty palms on his pants. “I gotta fuckin get outta here.”

Your lips form a perfect pout. “So soon?”

He looks around wildly and sees a swath of red standing stock still against a moving crowd. Kirishima’s ruby eyes stare at him in panic. He promised. He and Kaminari fucking promised that Bakugou wouldn’t see her again. And they couldn’t even deliver on it. 

He can’t leave. She’ll see. She’ll know that she won the breakup. That he has to run away from his memories and her.

A cool hand touches his flushed cheek. “Hey.” Your touch grounds him in the moment. He almost reaches up and cups your hand to his cheek just to keep it there a moment longer. Almost.

“What?”

“Do you think I’m hotter than her?” You nod towards the bar. Were you paying attention the whole time? You had to have noticed when he stopped trying to cop a feel and rub up on your ass. Did you see him staring? Did you see the panic?

Bakugou snorts. “After the shit she put me through, anyone’s hotter than her.”

“Fine,” you huff and casually loop your hands behind his neck. His body starts swaying with yours. Just another couple in the crowd. “Will she think I’m hotter than her?” Would she? Bakugou runs his hands down your side and across your ass. You definitely have confidence that rivals hers.

One stiff nod is all it takes for a smile that rivals the sun to spread across your face. “C’mon big boy,” you tap his cheek affectionately. “It’s time to go make a scene.” You loop your arm around his waist and lead him over to the bar. Over towards her.

Oh fuck no. Instead of grabbing your waist in return, his hand finds and squeezes your shoulder. What kind of scene were you planning on making? He didn’t want to get within ten feet of her, let alone inches from her at the bar.

Flagging down the bartender, you pull a wad of cash from who knows where and slide it across the sleek bar top. “For my tab.” Pressing your chest against Bakugou, you press a kiss to his cheek and stage-whisper loud enough to be heard over the music – and by his ex. “Bathroom first. Then my place.” 

He plays along and pulls you against him. As you lead the way to the exit, his insides are roiling. He can’t stop replaying that little scene over and over in his head. Did his ex notice them? Did he manage to hide the fact that she makes him want to puke? Did it look too forced? God, would she know that it was all for show?

The heavy doors to the bathroom swing closed. All the noise from outside as well as inside Bakugou’s head fades away. You make your way over to the bathroom mirror and check out your reflection. The sudden lack of noise and movement leaves him reeling. Checking the stalls and finding them empty, you casually stroll back over and stand across from Bakugou.

“Not at the point where you can talk to her? Get that closure you need?” you lean against the counter, a wry smile curling the corner of your lips. Bakugou scowls and you have the audacity to laugh at him. “What? It’s written all over your face.” 

“No,” he snaps. Heat floods his cheeks as the truth tumbles out of his mouth. “I don’t think I’ll be able to face her again.” 

“You just need a better cunt to get her out of your mind,” you purr.

“And you’re offering?” Bakugou raises an eyebrow. He holds your stare as you shift your dress up your hips slightly and reach under the hem. He doesn’t miss the way you smirk at him as your fingers drag black lace down your legs. Stepping out of the barely there underwear, you toss them at him, and of course he catches it. Smooth lace warms his fingers. Opening his palm, the bathroom lighting catches on a shiny streak on the crotch.

Bold.

Hopefully you can’t see his blush deepening, or if you can, maybe you’ll chalk it up to his drink finally catching up with him.

“I may have planted that seed in her mind, but it’s up to you what to do with it,” you tease.

It takes two strides for Bakugou to go from the wall opposite you to having his hands on your waist. He inhales deeply, trying to get the wretched stench of jasmine and rose out of his nose. You’re sweeter and softer than his icy ex at the bar. He wants to forget her. And he wants you.

For the first time since he had his heart shattered, he wants something.

His lips brush the shell of your ear. Bakugou swears you lean into him as he murmurs. “‘M not doing it with you looking at me.” He spins you around and pins your hips with his against the counter.

Just like on the dancefloor, your ass rubs against his stiff cock. “So you’re interested?” you laugh lightly. Spreading your legs more, he lifts your dress to reveal your ass in all its glory. His skin prickles in anticipation.

You’re warm under his palms as he slides his hands across your butt up to your hips. Bakugou slides his cock through your folds and bites back a groan. How long had it been? 

“Still with me?” you ask impatiently. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls. His hands grip at your waist as he sheaths himself completely inside you. He doesn’t want to pull out of your warm walls, but shallow, fast thrusts won’t suffice this evening.

He pulls out except for just the tip, leaving it nestled in your clenched entrance. “God you’re fuckin tight.” He watches his cock disappear into you, the way you suck him in and desperately hold him. White stars cloud the edges of his vision. Fuck he could nut right here. A goddamn two pump chump.

You moan as he pulls out again. “You’re just like everyone else out there.” Another fast thrust. Your legs shake against his. 

His cock comes out shiny, covered in your juices as he pulls out a third time. “Looking for a quick hook-up.” His next pump elicits a needy whine from you, and Bakugou almost relaxes his bruising grip on your hips, but your voice floats into his head. I promise I won’t break.

Bakugou sneaks a peek at the mirror in front of him. He didn’t want to see your face during sex — see some manufactured expression you think he wants to see.

But fuck, the face you’re making right now; eyes closed, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip. You’re absolutely glowing. Even the way you arch your ass for him so he hits that much deeper. You’re going to make him lose his goddamn mind. 

His chest leans against your back as he ruts into you animalistically. “And I fell for it.” The sound of his hips snapping against yours fills the small room. It’s a frantic pace as Bakugou chases his high. He can feel it building deep within him, and your cries of pleasure send him over the edge. Climax rocks through him, sending shock waves through all his limbs. 

It takes him a moment for his nerves to calm down and for you to start moving restlessly to remind him that you’re still under him. He pulls out and watches white cum drip out of you. 

He hadn’t planned on fucking anyone tonight. To be honest, he hadn’t planned on fucking anyone for a long while. 

“I may be here looking for a good time, but I’m not the one who decided to stick my dick in a random chick.” You adjust your dress and stare at his reflection in the mirror. You got him there.  “Is that enough time for your ex? Or do we need to make awkward chitchat for a while?”

“Fuck you,” Bakugou huffs, but he’s all bark, no bite. Based on the way you loop your arm in his, you know it too.

“Y’already did.”

The two of you leave quickly, spilling out into the night with other couples. Neither of you check to see if his ex is looking. Noises of the city surround you both. Conversations float by with passing pedestrians. Cars putter past. 

You untangle yourself from Bakugou and straighten your clothes one last time. “Well, that was fun,” you say smugly. “We should do it again.”

“Not likely.”

“Whatever you say,” you smirk and walk off into the night.

Bakugou watches you go, his eyes glued to your body until you disappear around a corner. He’d never see you again. Didn’t even get a name. Just a one-night stand that’ll never turn into more. You even lived in the opposite direction from him.

Whatever. Bakugou pulls out his phone and sees a folded piece of pink paper flutter out as well. Snatching it before it can hit the ground, Bakugou unfolds it and sees a phone number.

XXX-XXX-XXXX we can also just talk!

When the hell did you slip this in his pocket? He can’t stop himself from letting out a little laugh. Well played. Maybe he would see you again after all.

Yes he kept your panties.

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A/N: This will be continuously updated. If you see yourself on here, know I love you dearly. 

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