MTL - Pirates: One Superpower Per Day - Chapter 161

“We could be louder,” he whispered in a raspy voice. She shook with need and was about to turn when he clucked his tongue. “Ah, ah, ah, don't do that. I'll see you later, little girl.” And with that, he vanished.

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Cage was at the top of the world: the emperor of the film industry. But it is truly lonely at the top. Surrounded by staff members who want him to work to his bones and no one to lean on, Cage turns to gaming. In such dire times, he stumbles across a mysterious female gamer who leaves him speechless and aroused at the same time.

Graphic designer and fangirl extraordinaire, Katherine, finds a gamer who outshines her. In this world there was someone like this? All she can do is acknowledge his brilliance. [Take my bow, Senpai. You have eaten my gold.] But why does this message sound so… provocative?

A series of lecherous conversations turn into something deeper, until one day the two fall irrevocably in love with each other. “Hey, let’s fall in love...” Follow them as they traverse through life and the hardships that are thrown at them. Who knows, maybe us single dogs can learn a thing or two.

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“My little loli likes to watch? What a naughty little girl.” She was embarrassed that she was caught and mortified by the voice of the man she recognized as ‘him’. What was he doing here? She started to turn around, but he grasped her shoulder so she couldn't move.

“No, let's watch.” His breath was at her ear, fire lapping at her nerves, singeing and burning her insides, making a pleasant feeling erupt in her stomach. His arm snaked around her shoulder and grabbed her hand while his other hand slid down to her sides until it rested on her hip. He was not pressing himself into her, but she felt completely engulfed by him. She knew she should scream, or stomp on his foot, but all she could do was listen to his breathing escalate as his thumb rubbed her shoulder, putting her in a stupor.

She thought she heard him sniff her hair and his lips lightly grazed her ears as he whispered. “Don't miss the show because of me, little girl.”

Her eyes flickered back to the couple in the car, and she let out a whimper as she saw the man pull at the woman's hair, baring her beck to him, inviting his mouth to lick and suck. She felt ‘him’ close the gap between them, his hard body pressed up against hers, his arms tightly holding her. There was no mistaking what she felt on her lower back and she closed her eyes in delight.

He died on the wedding of the girl he had a crush on, after a long and successful career. After convincing Yama to send him back to the world, he decides to fix the areas in which his life went wrong. Realizing the lack of love and romance in his past life, he sets out to conquer the hearts of various women.

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.