#cw: implied smut

[justrandomghoul]

Alpha x Omega: Always Wanted You

CW: Implied smut at the end.

Omega has always wanted Alpha, but does Alpha want him as much as he does?

I’ve been working on this one all week and to be honest, I’m still not very happy with it. I think I would only make it worse if I continued, but I hope you guys enjoy it regardless. <3

Huge thanks to @littlemoon-beam who inspired the religious imagery. <3

Omega wandered down the hallway without looking and nearly collided with Alpha. He looked down and meekly apologized. Alpha's gaze at the ghoul before him looked calculating. It was as though he was trying to figure Omega out. Omega fidgeted nervously under his stare and dared himself to look back up.

“Um…Is something wrong?” Omega asked nervously.

Alpha tilted his head and tenderly placed his hand on Omega’s cheek as if he came across something he has never seen before and must study it. Omega prayed that Alpha couldn't notice that he yearned for his touch, that he yearned for him.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” Alpha softly marveled. “They remind me of the ocean. I always drown in them when I steal a glimpse.”

Omega looked down and blushed at the words spoken to him.

“T-thanks,” Omega stammered, not knowing what to say. He willed himself to back up at Alpha. “Your eyes are beautiful, too.”

Alpha grinned and pulled Omega closer.

Alpha leaned in and whispered sweetly into Omega's ear, "I just want to focus on you, our beautiful Omega."

Alpha gently kissed and nibbled his neck, compelling Omega to shutter and gasp in ecstasy. Alpha had the reputation of being forward, but at that moment, Omega somehow forgot how forward he could be. Omega has always been infatuated with Alpha, but he wouldn't dream of telling Alpha as he feared rejection.

Alpha growled and pulled Omega closer, nuzzling him. Omega closed his eyes and purred at the sensation.

Alpha confessed as though he was speaking to a noble maiden, "I've always wanted you like this. I've always wanted to see you in your glory and see me worthy enough to bed you."

Omega gently pulled away from Alpha to look him in the eye and confessed, "I've always wanted you as well. I just thought that you wouldn't want me."

Alpha removed his hand from Omega's face and tenderly grasped his neck, feeling a quickened pulse underneath the grasp. Omega gasped at the sensation, wanting to lean more into the touch.

Alpha leaned and growled under his breath into Omega's ear before revealing, "If you allow me, I want to show you how much I want you."

Omega swallowed and nodded, not trusting his voice. He couldn't believe that Alpha wanted him. Alpha wanted Omega how Omega wanted Alpha. Alpha grinned and removed his hand. Omega whined at the loss and gasped as Alpha lifted him into his arms as if he was carrying a princess, and in a way, he was.

Omega wrapped his arms around Alpha's neck to keep himself from falling and leaned closer, wanting to bask in his warmth. Alpha kissed Omega's neck one last time as he carried Omega back to his chamber to worship the beautiful ghoul in his arms.

[heartofjasmina]

These ask games are so fun! How about Dabi + incest? With like, a sis or young aunt who may or may not know who he actually is. Like he def knows and thinks she doesn't and she either has no clue or she does but keeps that to herself.

(Sorry and feel free to disregard if that's too weird/dark/not your cup of tea! Still love your work!)

I absolutely will not disregard becasue this is EXACTLY my cup of tea

He couldn't fucking believe his eyes.

You walked into the bar, the same bar he went to to pick up girls and guys looking desperate enough to fuck a walking corpse. His aunt- the woman only 10 years his senior who was the only good fucking memory he had of that hellish place.

You looked good, innocent and sweet and all the things he didn't deserve anymore. You'd filled out from his memories. All lush curves now and empty eyes.

But he was a man now. You wouldn't recognize him, not looking like he did.

Why shouldn't he be selfish?

~

You thought there was something vaguely familiar about the guy who came up to you at the bar, all cocky and brash as he eyed you.

"What's a sweet thing like you doing in a bar like this?" It was a shitty pick up line, but he was handsome despite his many scars. Piercings and a long lean body didn't hurt either. And you were lonely, you could admit. Your family had become a hell you wanted to escape- ever since Touya had died the Todorokis were beyond fractured. You barely saw your sister or neices and nephews anymore. You worked, you went out to eat, and you went home.

This bar was just a last ditch attempt to feel something- anything.

He was awkward in the bar, childishly trying to impress you by intimidating other guys, and cocky. All the things you usually talk yourself out of because you know it won't result in anything real. But this time, this guy. Something about the way he touched you- like he was seconds away from begging you to stay- made you feel wanted.

So you let him talk you into bed.

And that was your first mistake. Because the way he touched you at the bar was mild in comparison to the way he devoured you once you were inside your tiny apartment.

He kissed you like you were something precious even as he was ripping off your clothes. Got on his knees like he was going to pray to his god when really he was just nursing from your clit like he never wanted to let go.

You had tears streaming down your cheeks from cumming so hard and he hadn't even fucked you yet.

When he was balls deep inside you, you clung to him. He let you was the surprising thing. Even though he fucked you nasty and messy, letting his balls slap against your ass as you creamed on his cock, he let you hold onto him like he was your boyfriend or something.

"Best pussy I ever fucked, might have to fucking keep you," he growled in your ear like he knew it would make you cum again.

"Messy girl- you gonna let me cream you on the first date?" He laughed when your immediate answer was yes.

It went on all night, round after round of him folding you in half and stuffing you full until you were dripping his cum onto your sheets.

It wasn't till the next morning when he tried to sneak out that you realized where you knew him from.

You watched him get dressed in his dark clothes, noticing the birthmark on his hip bone. The same one you used to blow raspberries on when he was a toddler and you were only 14 yet an aunt somehow.

As he left his number on your nighstand and slipped out the door, you tried to reason with yourself why you should get rid of the scrap of paper.

But deep down you knew it was too late. You were already craving his touch, his tongue, his cock.

You entered the number into your phone and told yourself you were mistaken.

Anyone could have that birthmark.

Right?

[hanafubukki]

Lilia either directly or anonymously getting you a vibrator or other toy and then, when you're not home, using his unique magic on it to see how you've been enjoying it 👀

CW: Smut/lemon/lime (or whatever citrus fruit people use nowadays lol)

Hello Anonie 💞🌺💚

You’re trying to kill me here Anonie 😂💞 in the good way of course.

Let’s say Lilia directly got us a vibrator/toy.

(Because let’s face it, if someone got me one and I didn’t know who it was? I would find that creepy. Unless it was hinted at that they would get me one lol)

I can see Lilia getting the toy and telling you to enjoy it. He can’t always be around to see to your needs no matter how much he wants to. So think of him when you use it.

And think of him you do. Whether it’s a vibrator or some other toy. You use it to please yourself. Moaning his name. Getting yourself ready until you release. Imagine edging yourself over and over.

It gives you pleasure, but it also gives him pleasure. It’s one of his favorite ways to have you beg for him.

You know his plan to use his UM, he’s thinks he’s being sneaky but you know him. So you make sure to make it that much harder for him later when he watches.

Why watch? When he can come to you instead? Why deny both of you that pleasure?

Now?? What if I say that your toy works both ways? Whatever you do to it, it does to him. He feels it.

Imagine it being in the warmth of your body as you bring it in and out. He feels that warmth. The heat as you repeatedly take it in and out. Feels it as you move the toy in a specific way.

He can feel the release building and then…you stop.

Oh. Oh he can’t have that.

You riled him up and now deny him release? Deny you both that release? He knows you are teasing him

I can see his eyes turn dark wine red, he’s going to have you on your knees begging for release after he’s done with you.

[islandofthedollz]

Can you do Jimmy with a s/o, who’s a masochist

⁠❥TW: Blood, manipulation,abuse

⁠❥ILY so much!! I kinda like writing reader as a bit mean and abusive towards him both being toxic for eachother

❤︎The knife ❤︎

The first time Jimmy slapped across the face was a feeling you couldn’t quite pinpoint. The way his hands struck across your face made you feel like ecstasy you wanted him to do it again you liked it. You craved the pain and it caused you.

That wasn’t until one day when you were touching yourself couldn’t quite come up with an idea. Something that would really Jimmy off. You’re the sound of his car in the driveway and you heard the front door open that is when you put your plan into action.

You got on the bed and pretending to talk to Carly on the phone you knew that this would set him over the edge. You heard him walk in the door way to your bedroom. You raised your voice a little that way Jimmy can hear “ oh curly they way you fuck me is something Jimmy can never do”.

Jimmy looks at you. He looks at you with pure hatred. How dare you the one person he trusted betrayed him. Jimmy walks over to you an intense glare is chocolate brown He grabs your phone and throws it into the wall and slams your hand on the bed, his nails, gripping into your skin, leaving marks for sure. “ you fucking slut I knew you were fucking him in the side”. He screams in your face you start to feel wet but you wanna feel that same pain you felt when he slapped you.

“Sorry Jimmy I guess Curly can satisfy me in ways you can’t” you haunted him he see him get rid of the face as he raises the hand that isn’t gripping your hand, he puts it in a fist and landed into your face. You try to hold back your bones, but this is the type of thing you’ve been needing for a while.

He slams his fist again on your face with a sheer amount of force your start to bleed from your nose. You moan you feel that feeling of ecstasy again. Jimmy looks at you dumbfounded. “What are ya a pain slut” he questions. “Jimmy do it again please Jimmy hit me, slap me cut me what ever you want I need it I love it when you do things like this”. Jimmy smirks look at you like a pathetic little dog. Jimmy goes to the kitchen really quick and comes back with a knife.

Do you look at him excited wondering what he’s gonna do he’s looking at you like he’s a predator in your prey. He doesn’t say anything he means quiet he rips your shirt open rips your bra.

He grabs the knife, pointing it underneath your chin and slowly drying it down your chest to your stomach. He does this a couple of time and he loved the feeling of the knife, dragging along in your skin. You want him to cut your pretty skin. You close your eyes and enjoying the sensation of the knife.

Your eyes still open and surprise as you feel sharp pain on your chest he looked down and he see Jimmy carving his name on your chest. He start to get wet and he notices he takes two fingers pull your panties to the side and insert them thrusting them slowly like carves his name.

This is the high you’ve been chasing for a while you moan his name feels so good what he’s doing this to you. Jimmy starts to speed up is the thrust you’re reaching your climax. You feel a knife cutting deep into your precious skin as soon as you feel a knife leave your skin. You gosh, all over his thick fingers he shows the fingers in your mouth and tells you to suck them you start sucking on them looking up at him like if he was your God.

He roughly takes his fingers out of your mouth. He starts laughing. “What’s wrong Jimmy”. He looks at you amusingly. “ I get what you were doing now you wanted me to get mad that way I can hit ya. You should said you were a pain slut sooner. The things I’m going to do to you pretty doll.”

[hanasnx]

❝ hosanna. ❞

── darth vader x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 1.3k SUMMARY: you live to serve your sith lord. NOTES: as a former christian child, this song speaks to me on a level i cant explain. it is not a testament to my current religious standpoint, this is not pro or anti anything. merely a song analysis format in the perspective of a darth vader smut writer. "hosanna" by hillsong united. @xstarkillerx heavily influenced this fic. WARNINGS: heavy religious themes | sexual content | coitus | unprotected sex | virginity loss | objectification | worship | size difference | mentioned: blood, suicide.

Heal my heart and make it clean.

“Please, my lord.” your desperate croak echoes against the floor as you press your forehead to the stone in your kneel. You beg not for traditional mercy, but rightful extinction. To bask in the company of the Sith Lord DARTH VADER can only mean one thing. Finally, your mistake will be remedied. You’ll be scorched from the face of this planet by his righteous fire, fit to continue your spiritual journey with the help of his guided and generous hand. When it raises to clench around your neck, to squeeze the life from you, your soul will escape your wretched and human body.

Open up my eyes to the things unseen.

Sights you cannot fathom, planes you cannot reach, heavens you are unallowed to cross all become possible in the benevolence of his presence. A great exhilaration, the cathartic rush you’ve been bound to chasing your entire lifespan is at your fingertips. They prickle in anticipation, driving you to near tears over the discovery of divinity. To be at his feet overwhelms you, and you’re wracked with sobs. The pilgrimage you’ve been tasked with is at its end. Darth Vader stands before you, and you cannot bring yourself to utter another word in fear.

Show me how to love like You have loved me.

You’re brought to stand. His hand cups your chin, and you burn from his touch. By his grip, he raises your gaze, and you scan the ample length of his imposing form. Cloaked in black, shrouded in terrifying mystery, your weeping is quieted in the presence of his glory. The image of his expressionless mask in front of you runs your blood cold. You’ve seen his likeness etched into your planet’s culture, yet that awe is incomparable to the one that roars through your veins now. Legends depict his dark figure as a hunter. An insatiable pursuant that stops at nothing until the galaxy is cleansed. His abysmal love for all things is shown through his relentless protection of it. With a step, he shakes the very crust of the terrain he walks upon; with a wave of his mighty hand, corrupt civilizations fall and armies stab themselves so as not to face him; under his leadership, his empire thrives and spreads to the untouched and the perverted in his name. Dry mouth struggles to swallow as he remains silent, doubtlessly counting your sins as he scrutinizes you. You always knew you were to be judged, and here it is. Yet, you’re stupefied. His thumb against you does not feel like you thought it would, pinching your skin coldly.

Break my heart for what breaks Yours.

“Do I displease you?” you whisper. A single tear breaks from your eye in your tremble, grazing your cheek as it falls. A knuckle comes to dab at the moisture, and you flinch. His encasing is to hide his unseeable majesty from the galaxy. It is said a single look upon his true self will devour you whole, tearing you to shreds where you stand, and blaze your eyes from their sockets. If you survive the encounter, you’ll live out the rest of your blackened life consumed by his image as the last thing you saw, in blind search of it through endless deserts. Already you condemn yourself, cursing your own household for its transgressions against him and his vision, your appearance is unsatisfactory, your soul has been dipped in gold to weigh down the scales. You’ve been too prideful, vain, greedy. How could you have ever hoped to be here with him when you’re a demon in skin? He senses it, he must. You will atone.

Everything I am for Your kingdom's cause.

There is nothing you won’t do in his name. There is nothing that will keep you from him. Your boundless devotion towards the Sith Lord cannot be bought, cannot be measured. You are his vessel, a path to reach others, your eyes are his eyes. Can he see himself through you? If he, a being of endless power, were to attempt to inhabit your body, would you combust into ashes under his boot? Still, you try. Storms bend to his will, mountains bow by his word. What could you offer to him that is not within his scope? “Anything.” you plea through a broken voice, your hands hooking into your outerwear to pull it off your shoulders. His hand releases your jaw, and you step back for any offense you may have caused. Since his command suspends, you continue. Your straps are tugged down, and your knees buckle, dropping to the ground. Desperately, lovingly, you bare yourself to him, you crawl to his feet in worship.

As I walk from earth into eternity.

There’s nothing you don’t give him throughout the night. Anything you can comprehend is surrendered to him. You’re afraid. While he’s inside you, you’re afraid. Rooted deep, sheathed inside your purity, touching sacred parts of you that has never been offered to anyone else. You’re afraid of him. He’s said nothing, exhalting himself using you as you’ve invited him to, but in your eyes he’d need not ask. You are his. Large hands grasp your torso, bunching up the fabrics of your clothes, ripping seams more and more with each thrust. The pain of consummation is one you thank him for with lachrymal essence dripping down the corners of your eyes, wetting your hairline. The sins of the flesh are a stranger to you, until he breaks your virginity, fucking you through the blood. So as not to surprise him, you swallow your cry with a palm over your lips. Disillusioned with your surroundings, focused on the heat where your bodies meet, you notice how he’s changed his pace. A gentler angle to his hips as he caresses your insides with his member. Regardless of its stiffness, the velvety outer layer is sweet against your walls. True rapture introduces itself to you, growing in pleasure with each stroke. His cape veils your nakedness to the outside world, shielding you as he presses you to him in a surprising demonstration of humanity. Symbolically, your forehead kisses the crest of his headpiece, a stark contrast from the stone you’d bowed on, he is showing you forgiveness. Humility. He is grateful. The sensation of being filled by him becomes not only bearable, but welcome. Your wails are no longer wracked with the despair of ache, but of staggering passion. Newfound life flows through you, rejuvenating you, manifesting in the beads of sweat on your brow, and the tears of thankfulness as they stream from your blurring gaze. On the edge of your peak, you take pride. He wants you. He wants you. He wants you.

Hosanna, Hosanna.

You can’t see yourself, but you’re outside your body. The warmth of existence embraces you, curling around you like smoke. There’s nothing but comfort here. Nothing but a stretch of unconditional love and acceptance. Finally, finally you’re here. You’ve reached your heavens. You can feel it all around you. It is the light. It is eternity. It is. It is. It is.

You are. You are. You are.

As you open your eyes, the fleeting feeling dissipates. The prickle softens, your breathing evens out, the white hot sensation of your orgasm passes over you. No. No. No. It was right there, it was in your hands. You’re alerted as he pulls from you, the wet sounds of your joint pleasures spill from your spasming entrance, pouring down your body that still remains. Your body that drew your soul back in from salvation. Darth Vader does not realize he’d given you a taste of the Force in his ecstasy, entwining your souls to see through each other’s eyes for one honored moment. Nor does he foresee the future of you begging for him over and over again, just for a mere taste of it at your climax.

[druizard]

WIP Gale sketch💜

Eyeing you from across camp~

Artwork by Charlee-Monstah/Druizard

[localcanadiancreature62]

Lobotomy husbands fic cuz ive been waiting on making this until i drew the rest of the fucked up zodiac member clone group but yeah no i need them now. Also heyy this is technically their first actual interaction since i've been going on and on about them being husbands yet i haven't written them properly interacting except for that one intro thing.

Title - Perfect Day in the Perfect World

Bill watches Ford do some paperwork for his Oregon Institute of Oddology company as he waits for him to finish work so that he can finally spend time together with his genius. The triangle grins happily at Ford with his eye,who then gives him a tired smile in return as he yawns while going back to filling out forms in order to give other businesses permission to use his company's useful gadgetry. Bill keeps supervising his researcher husband while floating at his side as he kept grinning,but then he noticed the man shaking as he held the pen in his hand. Crushing it in his fist as the ink splattered everywhere. The genius keeps looking at the mess he made in a tired daze before realizing what had happened as Bill then floated closer toward him in concern,summoning a cloth to help Ford clean up the mess before he could do anything himself.

"Fordsy,what the heck was that?. Are you okay?,maybe you should take a break." Bill asks as he took a worried glance toward the man who just dismissively waved his hand at his triangular partner in order to assure him that he's fine. "I'm fine,my dear muse. I think that three days of trying to fill out these papers ever since Fiddleford decided that we should take turns is getting to me,i just need some rest and i'll be in tip top shape. I'll be with you in bed in a bit after i get these done." Ford explains as the isosceles still looks at him in concern but he lets it slide as his Fordsy has always been this stubborn.

"Fine. Don't overwork yourself too hard,Sixer. I'll be waiting~." Bill remarks as the flirty comment makes the man chuckle,with him floating away after he had finished wiping off his genius' inky mess. The triangle waits for a few minutes,which later turned into a few hours as he groans while bored out of his mind trying to wait for Ford. 'I wonder what he's doing now. He's taking a long time over there,although fleshbag work has always been lengthy and all. And that weird outburst.. I didn't look into his thoughts this time,but the way he started shaking before he destroyed the pen made it very clear that he was pretty stressed. I'm the reason why he's like this. I think that part of the reason why he's been so stressed lately is because of the aching feeling that there's something wrong with his life,and it's eating him up from the inside.' Bill thought to himself as he realized that the reason why Ford has been recently acting weird and high strung was actually him,he was the problem.

Although he wasn't willing to confront the fact that he had to deal with said problem,as that meant letting go of Ford. The isosceles then sighed as he brushed off that thought and kept waiting for his genius in the bedroom so that they could sleep together.

Only for him to hear glass shattering from the man's office as he then quickly floated over to the other room as he then prepared to blast flames at the intruder who entered their condo,but he then realizes that there's no threat after seeing that there was no intruder and just Ford himself staring at a broken vase while disoriented as he then ceased the fire from his hands. "Ford,what happened?." Bill asks as he looked at his genius in concern once more. "Oh uh. I accidentally knocked into a vase while zoning out again. Luckily,none of the glass got onto my hands or face. I'm okay,Bill." Ford replied as he gave his triangle a tired smile,snapping out of his dissociative daze.

"Oh.. He's disassociating again. That's a problem." Bill says as he voices his thoughts outloud,replying more to himself than his genius. "What?. What problem?." Ford questions,confused about what his husband just said. "Uhh nevermind. I'm glad that you're okay. I honestly thought that some dumb idiot tried to break into our house,but it was just your silly goose messing up again." Bill remarks as he then snapped his fingers to fix the vase as it then returned to it's original state on the small table near Ford. Ford then smiled at his dear muse while looking at him with adoring eyes,being glad that the triangle still loves him even in his difficult mental state.

"You know my muse,i'm happy to know that you still care about me even in my.. unstable mental state. I'm sorry to bother you with my mistakes when your All Seeing Greatness should be used for extraordinary things rather than my mortal failings." Ford says while looking at the isosceles in slight guilt,as he deems that a mere mortal like him pales in comparison to the brilliance of his near-god husband as the triangle's eye widens in surprise over the man's comment. "Fordsy,you're never a bother to me. You're my husband and i love you. I'll take care of you and deal with your mistakes for as long as you live." Bill reassures while he gave the man a gentle smile as the genius lets out a light chuckle,not expecting anything else from his husband but sheer adoration as he feels comforted by the triangle's words.

"Good then. Now let's go sleep,hm?. I finished the paperwork as i was heading out to bed earlier." Ford replied as Bill nodded while the triangle grabs his hand and holds it tight as the two walk over to the bedroom,or more like Bill floats and Ford walks alongside him. Bill makes it to the bed as Ford then begins to undo his tie after taking off his labcoat while the triangle watches him as he waited for his researcher husband to lay beside him as the man tiredly smiles at him once more but then before he could fully take off his tie,he feels a sharp pain in his skull as he groans in pain while beginning to dissociate as he clutches his own head while the triangle immediately comes to his aid as he asks him what's wrong only to get no response as he realizes what's happening. "Fordsy?. Fordsy?!. What happened?!." Bill exclaims but then he stops once he gets no response,watching as the man stares at the ground in an unfocused daze as he realizes that the man is dissociating again.

The triangle then resorts to shaking him back to normal since he knew the exact reason why this is happening,the constant memory erasure that he kept subjecting his poor genius to and so he figured that trying to erase things again would only make the problem worse. 'I shouldn't have resorted to memory erasing to fix every argument or problem we ever had. I just want him to be happy,but i never wanted it to turn out like this. The fixed state of my reality warping powers is getting rejected by his mind,and it's destroying him from the inside.' Bill thought to himself as he tearfully kept trying to shake his husband back into his original state. Then it clicked. As if a switch was flipped,Ford snaps out of his dissociative daze and blinks as he looks at the crying isosceles while a bit disoriented from the dissociative episode.

Ford's expression softens as he took a guilty glance at the triangle as he caressed his face,gently rubbing his finger over Bill's tears. "You're crying.. I did it again,didn't i? I had another episode. I'm sorry,my dear muse. I can't keep worrying you like this." Ford remarks as the triangle then hugs him as he smiled at his triangular husband. "It's okay. I just thought that you wouldn't come back this time,i thought that you broke permanently. This is a problem even my powers can't fix,but that's fine as long as you still get to be with me." Bill explains with a tinge of guilt,knowing that he caused this as he then stopped crying once he felt his genius' warm embrace. "I guess so. I'd be glad to keep being with you even with my broken mind,my dear muse. My triangle. My dearest Cipher~." Ford says as he then pulled away from the embrace as he kissed the isosceles straight on the eye mouth as he blushed,deciding to make up for those upsetting episodes by giving his beloved a tender kiss. Bill kisses back as he then lightly makes out with the genius,dragging him to the bed so that they could make out more comfortably. The two keep going at it for a while as various passionate groans and whimpers fill the room,but then after a while Bill realizes that his husband hasn't slept in three days yet he's putting all of his energy on him. He then pulls away in order to let the man sleep as the genius looks in confusion.

"Oh?. I thought we were going to take it a bit further?~." Ford asks as he slyly looks at the isosceles. "Yeah,but you need your rest. Do i need to remind you that you haven't had any proper sleep in three days,Fordsy?." Bill remarks as the genius looks up at him in slight embarrassment as he realizes that he does need rest and that he ended up letting himself get a bit too carried away with his husband. "Ah,right. I apologize,your intoxicating taste was too tempting~." Ford explains as the triangle then blushed from the comment. "Oh stop it. Now,sleep." Bill demands as the researcher complied and took off his sweater vest as well as his tie,only leaving his red collar shirt as he then laid beside the triangle who put on his own sleepwear in the form of a night cap with a snap of his fingers. Ford then shut his eyes as he embraced the triangle who turned off the light with a finger snap,with him shutting his own eye as well as the two went to sleep. Only Bill didn't fall asleep,he stayed up thinking about how he could make it up to his genius since he outright caused his mind to be shattered with the constant memory erasure. But then he had an idea. 'I feel terrible for basically breaking Fordsy's mind with the memory erasing. I need to make it up to him,even if he doesn't know why i'll be doing it. I need to make him happy,i need to fix this even for a little bit. Aha. I'll plan a day just for him,with all of his favorite things and favorite places. a Perfect Day in the Perfect World.' Bill thought to himself as he then let himself rest,planning to wake up early in order to plan out the day for his beloved.

The following day,Bill wakes up and slowly moves away from his genius' arms as the man continues sleeping while being unaware of his husband's great plan for him. He then goes over to the kitchen and summons all of Ford's favorite breakfast dishes such as jellybean cereal nutella waffles cream and strawberry crepes et cetera. Then he books a science museum a space observatory for stargazing a taxidermy center for extinct cryptid specimens and various other nerdy places for his genius. And a gift in the form of a light show that'll activate with a snap of his fingers,the light show will draw out Ford's favorite constellation "William" onto the sky via his flames. Plus he had Fiddleford deal with the company's duties for now,thus leaving the Oregon Institute of Oddology to the hillbilly and giving Ford a day off. Now that everything is done and all planned out,the triangle then waits for his researcher husband to wake up as he sat there in his chair at the kitchen while looking through the man's Journals to pass the time.

After about three hours of waiting,Ford finally wakes up at 8am as he yawns and stretches while walking down the spiral stairs. Bill grins as his eye shines brightly from being overjoyed to see his beloved as the man tiredly waves at him while smiling as he sits down in his chair. "Good morning,my dear muse.." Ford says groggily as he slumps his head on the table,not yet realizing the copious amounts of breakfast that the triangle has prepared for him. "Good morning,Fordsy!. How did you sleep?." Bill asks in a chipper tone,excited to spend the day with his beloved. "I slept well.. Still a bit tired though.. But i'm happy to see you." Ford replied as he then smiled at the triangle as he then walked over to hug him,kissing him on the forehead as he put him in a tight embrace as Bill blushed.

The man then noticed the several plates of breakfast littering the table,as he realized that they're all his favorite dishes while still hugging his husband. "My muse,you did all of this for me?." Ford questions as he eyed the various dishes on the table. "Yup!. They're all for you. And i have more surprises planned for today,as i want to give you a day off with just us since i noticed how stressed you were yesterday." Bill explains as the researcher's eyes widen in shock as he then lightly chuckles from the triangle's grand gesture. "I'm glad that you're always thinking of me. I'm happy to have you as my partner,Bill." Ford remarks as he smiled while the isosceles smiled back. "Of course. I love you Fordsy and i'll take any opportunity to show it. And me too. Now eat up,we have a big day ahead of us." Bill replied as the genius nods as he then let go of his beloved as he sat back in his chair to eat the glorious feast the triangle has prepared for him while his triangular husband watches him with an adoring eye.

Ford finishes his food after a while and Bill offers to do the dishes for him despite the fact that he could easily snap the plates back to normal,the genius wanted to do it but Bill insisted that he let him do something for him since he compromises so much for him so Ford let him. After that,the married couple have a blast at the Gravity Falls Science Museum and finish enjoying all of the exhibits before noon as Bill happily listened to Ford ramble about each one according to their topics. By the time noon comes around,Bill and Ford have lunch at a fancy restaurant elsewhere in Oregon where the triangle insists that he let the man choose every dish since the day is for him after all and he obliged as they have a wonderful meal while discussing the past stories they had together. They then go stargazing at the Portland Observatory and the couple have fun naming every constellation together while Ford teased Bill every time he got one wrong,they stayed there until they realized it was evening/late afternoon. Then Bill took him to the Salem Taxidermy Center to look at a bunch of extinct cryptid taxidermy specimens,where Ford happily studied and rambled about every exhibit. The two then went to the other nerdy places that Bill booked for them both,spending time together while not caring about how late at night it was. Then before they went home,the two had fun talking at a bar while getting absolutely inebriated although more so Ford than Bill as the man decided to use his de-atomizer gun to vaporize the members of a bar fight there in his drunken stupor. He would've killed literally everyone there if Bill hadn't intervened and by intervened i mean he reversed the vaporizing bar fight with his new ability to control time itself.

Bill then had to take a very drunk Ford back to their condo before the man killed anyone else with his de-atomizer gun,with him carrying the man bridal style while floating back home as the genius incoherently rambled about how much he loved the triangle. "I love you,Bill." Ford remarks as he absentmindedly poked the isosceles' bowtie a few times while still being carried. "Fordsy,this is the billionth time you've said that." Bill says in slight annoyance as he kept floating back to their condo. "I know,but it's true. You deserve to *hic* hear it more than once~." Ford teases as the triangle blushes in response. He then recalls how much fun he had with his beloved muse the whole day,smiling at the thought of his husband doing all of that for him despite the fact that a mere mortal like him is unworthy of such treatment (Ford ur secret insecurities are showing).

"Why did *hic* you do this for me?. The whole day i mean. Besides wanting to spend time with me without any work in the way " Ford asks,genuinely curious about his beloved's reasoning for planning such a fantastic day as the triangle arrives in front of the condo only to stop to respond to his genius. "Well,i wanted to make you happy. Since that.. problem regarding your broken mind upset you,and me,both of us really. I wanted to give us both a break from dealing with that." Bill explains as he then put the man down,putting him in a side hug in order to stop him from stumbling. "Oh.. But my muse,you already make me happy just by being here with me." Ford replied,a little saddened by the thought of his dearest feeling obligated to fix things because of that unstable mind of his but he appreciated his efforts regardless. "I know. But i wanted to plan a special day for my special man anyway~." Bill flirts as the man blushed in response.

"Ah. I'm so glad that you notice whenever i'm upset,and that you do everything in your power to make it better. You're a wonderful husband,Bill." Ford says as he smiled at the triangle,who smiled back at him. "I know. Now let's go home and talk a little bit about our fun day before going to bed. And maybe get a little frisky~." Bill teased as the genius blushed even deeper,although this time the redness of his face isn't coming from the alcohol and rather from the arousal he felt from the thought of getting to be pleasured by his muse again after a while of not being able to feel the triangle's hands on him due to his CEO work. "O-Okay. As you wish,my dearest husband." Ford remarks as the triangle then helped him walk back to their house but then Bill remembered that he had another surprise left for his genius so he stopped floating as he then snapped his fingers,the "William" constellation being drawn out in the night sky with his flames as the man looks up in awe. "Ta-da!. It's your favorite,the constellation that looks a lot like a certain charming triangle~. I decided to show it to you since you can't see it normally anymore with the clouds and all." Bill explains as the man then kissed him on the cheek as thanks as he then blushed gold. "Thank you,my dear muse. For all of the wonderful surprises you gave me today,including this one." Ford replied as he then smiled at Bill,who grinned back at him.

"You're welcome,Fordsy. I love you." Bill remarks as the man embraced him. "I love you too. We should go home now. I'm hungry for a steak dinner,and for you~." Ford teases as the triangle blushed even deeper than his genius was as he knew what the man meant by that,then they kept walking back to the condo as Bill summoned a steak dinner while not being able to wait to fuck Ford as he desperately fidgeted in his chair. The man chuckles as he saw how antsy his dear muse was,making sure to eat up fast so that he won't wait for long. He then finished up his steak as Bill snapped his fingers to reverse the plates back to their clean state,then he quickly teleported him and Ford to the bedroom while then removing the man's clothes with a snap of his fingers. The triangle eyed the man hungrily as Ford blushed and panted at the thought of being touched by his beloved again after a while of not experiencing his hands on his member due to work,with Bill chuckling as the genius already wet the bed when he hasn't touched him yet. Bill then put his finger on the man's lips to signal him to quiet down his whimpers,while looking at him slyly as he knew that they're going to he at this for a while.

[swampstew]

Killer, I-30 ~ Cum Eating

Summary: Hiking through the ancient lands of old and you get to experience a rite of passage - staying overnight in a real life wilderness hut - that will keep you safe from deadly terrors and beasts during the night. Does it work?

Warnings: Spicy, modern monster au, Killer as Biasd Bheulach with female reader, risky sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), failed pull out method and cum eating, dead dove do not eat for ending cause murder is implied. Word Count: 863

Biasd Bheulach is a monster or spirit that supposedly haunts Odal Pass on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. It is said to be a nocturnal shapeshifter, sometimes a man, sometimes a beast. It’s believed to be the source of the frightful shrieks and outcries heard in the night. If you’ve ever asked what’s hiding in the dark, don’t be surprised to hear it’s the Beast of Odal Pass. There are accounts of travelers claiming to have been attacked by the beast as they traveled through the night. One alleged victim was found dead on the roadside with gory wounds. There have been few actual accounts of what the creature looks like so it is generally advised not to travel at night.

The handsome stranger had flirted with you all night and you had fallen for his charm. His big, muscled body was a delight to look at, his long and gorgeous mane of hair was enchanting, and every time you caught a peek of his crystal blue eyes, you could feel yourself swoon. Like a fairy tale prince handsome.

You and your friend group had been hiking through the land when it began to grow dark. And once the deep hue cleared the sky you’re spines prickled with fear when you heard wild shrieking that nearly sounded like laughter. Crazed laughter.

Finding a local wilderness hut, called a Bothy, your group tread quickly to the basic shelter in the hopes to avoid whatever that foul sound was. When you crossed the threshold none of you expected to find it already occupied by the handsome stranger. He introduced himself and explained he sought shelter when he heard the howling shrieks. He lived in the next town over and was travelling by foot but decided that for safety he would spend the night.

His name was hard to pronounce and didn’t have an easily international equivalent, so he settled for Killer when your friend’s boyfriend called him drop dead gorgeous. Killer was kind, gentle and well-articulated. It was easy to get along with him and feel comfortable around him quickly. Between the four of you, you had food and water for about a day and a half.

Killer informed everyone that there was a fresh water stream nearby and offered to go with her boyfriend, but your friend insisted she would go with as there was no bathroom in the shelter, just a spade to dig in the dirt.

As soon as you were left alone with him, he pounced. You eagerly accepted his brazen advances and soon you were both rushing towards the shoddy second story loft space for privacy. Despite the…rugged…quality of the shelter, it served is purpose.

You were writhing in pleasure as Killer removed his thick, calloused fingers out of your weeping cunt. You whimpered at him with pleading eyes and gave him a satisfied hum when he unbuckled his pants. He fucked you raw and you loved every second of it. Dripping in sweat and huffing the humid air with each breath you shared as he pistoned into you and harshly bit where your shoulder met your neck. With a cry, your pussy throbbed and clamped on his cock making him grunt loudly, panting through grit teeth as his hips stuttered.

“Sh-shit!” you heard him moan as he pulled out, jerking himself over your body and covering you with white. You closed your eyes as you felt the warmth splatter against your skin, your hips shifted and you realized you could feel warmth dripping down between your thighs.

“Did you—?” you asked quietly.

“Eh I might have, sorry don’t think I pulled out fast enough. Don’t worry I’ll clean you up, just sit back and get comfortable, this won’t take long.”

Confused, you laid on your back as he lifted your thighs over his shoulder. He buried his tongue into your pussy and you let out a squeal. You felt the muscle work your core, licking your walls clean, licking your ass cheeks and inner thighs clean as well. You were in a daze as he left your core, trailing his tongue up your torso as he thrusted his fingers into your pussy once more. Pumping you as he licked clean the mess he made on you.

When he cleaned the last drop, his fingers worked overtime causing your final orgasm to strike you like lightning. He swallowed your screams as your pussy crushed his fingers, pumping you through the intense rocking that wallowed in your body as you rode the train of ecstasy. You don’t remember anything else from the night, except one final moment as sleep dragged you to its depths, the way he looked at you with almost guilt as he kissed your forehead.

Quietly murmuring, “If only in a different life.”

You remembered wanting to ask him what he meant when you woke up. However, you awoke to a nightmare. Walking groggily down the steps, your movement faltered when you realized the Bothy had been destroyed from the inside out. No trace of your friend, her boyfriend, or Killer.

All that was left was splatters and puddles of blood strewn about the ruined interior.

5 tiles to go, 59 calls made so far.

[daisynik7]

Hanging by a Thread

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (please heed content warnings as this chapter contains potentially triggering content - violence, dialogue that suggests SA, blood)

Word Count: ~6.5k

cw: angst, underaged drinking, dialogue that suggests SA, violence, blood, canon divergent, explicit language, suggestive sexual content, switching POVs (2nd and 3rd person)

Summary: After leaving the Tokyo Manji Gang, Mitsuya feels like his life is on the right track. They have their fearless leader Mikey back to his usual self and Mitsuya’s relationship with Hana grows stronger day by day. They graduate, ready for the next big step in their lives. But with everything said and done, the past will always haunt the brothers of Toman, for better and for worse.  

Author’s Note: I know this is a drastic change in tone from this otherwise romantic plot. However, this is how I’ve always imagined the story to play out, so I apologize if I’ve blindsided you by this dramatic turn! Thanks for all the support I’ve gotten so far on this. Please let me know what you think in the comments.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter (coming soon)

“Takashi Mitsuya!” 

Despite his request to them earlier in the week to not cause a ruckus, his friends and family are the most obnoxious bunch during the graduation ceremony. From the stage, he spots Draken standing with Mana sitting on his shoulders, the both of them hollering as Emma attempts to quiet them down. Mikey is next to her, lifting Luna up by the armpits, who’s yelling enthusiastically with her tiny hands surrounding her mouth to emphasize her cheers. Mitsuya’s mom, dressed in her best kimono, cries into a wad of tissues, unable to contain her happiness. 

Today, he’s an official high school graduate. He bows politely to his homeroom teacher and the principal before accepting his diploma, holding it gingerly in his hands like a prized possession. He never imagined feeling this way about a simple piece of paper, yet here he is, the proudest he’s ever been of himself. He beams at his cheering squad, then at Hana, who’s seated in their student section. She winks at him, cheeks round and eyes shining, clapping emphatically. He blinks away tears, in disbelief that this is all actually happening. His dreams have become a reality. 

When it’s Hana’s turn shortly after, his friends and family are up on their feet once more, shouting their encouragements for her, enough for everyone in the audience to hear. Mitsuya peeps Hana’s parents, standing up and clapping. Her father glances to the back, his expression wary for a split-second, then he smiles proudly at his daughter walking the stage. 

Since he formally left the gang, Hana’s father has relented his stance for them to break up. While there is still that awkward tension between them, there is no longer animosity, and Mitsuya considers this good progress. He’ll continue to work hard to prove to Mr. Shimizu, and to himself, that he’s capable of being the loving, supportive boyfriend that Hana deserves.

When the last student’s name is read and the traditional graduation song is sung, they file into their homeroom for one last class with their teacher, who congratulates them with high praise. It’s during all this hustle and bustle that the couple find a sliver to time for themselves, holding hands in the back of the classroom, squeezing each other lovingly. They sneak in a kiss while everyone else is distracted, and for this fleeting moment, it’s the two of them in their own little world. 

Soon, there’s more commotion when they’re all dismissed to prolong the festivities in the courtyard. Mitsuya joins his mother and sisters to take pictures. Luna and Mana wear the dresses he made for them specifically for special occasions, making his heart swell more than it already has. He poses for more photos with his Toman brothers and Emma, who rib him for being a “nerd with a diploma”. 

Hana’s mom approaches them first, introducing herself to Mitsuya’s mother and crouching down to meet his sisters. Mr. Shimizu does the same, the usual tension in his brow apparent. They all come together for a group photo, Hana and Mitsuya in the middle, his hand on her waist keeping her close, the two of them surrounded by loved ones. “I love you,” he whispers to her. It’s a picture-perfect memory that he’ll never forget. 

The two of them part ways, agreeing to celebrate separately with their own families. Draken and Emma graciously host, serving a homecooked feast courtesy of the father-to-be, who prepared special dishes to honor the new grad, including the nostalgic beef karubi-don from when they first met as kids. Others join them, including Takemitchy, Hina, Hakkai, his sister Yuzuha, and Chifuyu. Their apartment is filled to the brim with people celebrating Mitsuya’s accomplishments. When it’s time for Luna’s and Mana’s bedtime, his mother bids them all farewell, making sure to warn her son, “Don’t get too crazy tonight, okay?”

“I won’t,” he assures her, kissing her on the forehead, waiting for them to board the bus, waving at the window as they head home. 

He returns to the apartment, kitchen counter now stacked with bottles of liquor, ready to be consumed. Hakkai is halfway through a beer when he embraces Mitsuya jovially. “You are the fucking man, Takashi! I want to be you when I grow up!” 

Yuzuha, who graduates in a week, pats her brother’s back, laughing. “It’s a too late for that, don’t you think? You’re a high-school dropout.”

“It’s never too late for anything!” he slurs, tipping the remaining alcohol into his mouth. 

She rolls her eyes, prying him off Mitsuya. “Don’t make me take care of you when you get drunk.”

“Too late!” he hiccups, skipping into the kitchen to retrieve another, where she follows him, annoyed.

Mitsuya chuckles, amused by the two siblings and their usual banter. He examines the room, noting how all the most important people in his life are by his side, despite no longer being in Toman. Draken sips on a sparkling water, refraining from drinking alcohol in solidarity with his pregnant girlfriend, who sits on the couch with a sober Hina, gossiping. Mikey torments Takemitchy and Chifuyu in a game of Mario Kart on the television. An unusual sense of peace washes over him, and though he’s surrounded by his friends, he finds himself missing Hana immensely, wishing he could share this sentiment with her. 

There’s a knock on the door and his wishes are miraculously granted. She steps inside the apartment, donned in her favorite jean jacket, the one with the heart they stitched together on the sleeve. Her gaze immediately meets his and they reunite in a big hug. “What are you doing here?” he asks, surprised and elated. 

“Emma texted me and told me you were still celebrating,” she explains. “We finished dinner early and my parents told me it was okay to see you.”

“I’m so happy you’re here. I missed you.”

“You really can’t go a few hours without me?” she teases, nuzzling her nose to his. 

“No, I can’t,” he admits, completely serious. He kisses her, instantly melting into her lips.

“Oi! Get a room, you fucking perverts!” Draken calls out, smirking. Emma and Hina giggle as Mitsuya flips the bird at his Twin Dragon.

They don’t partake in any drinking tonight, Mitsuya already love drunk and Hana too afraid to get caught by her parents later when she goes back home. Nonetheless, the party is full of merriment, especially when Mikey suggests karaoke. 

Past midnight, Hana rests her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder, fingers laced seamlessly, listening to Takemitchy perform a particularly heartfelt ballad to Hina. Most of the others have left, except for Mikey, who nods along to the music, and Chifuyu, who finishes off the cake they had for dessert, eating it straight from the box. Draken sits on the other side of the couch with Emma’s head on his lap, sleeping soundly to the tone-deaf warbles of Takemitchy’s voice. His hand gently massages her pregnant belly. 

Before it gets too late, Mitsuya and Hana say their farewells to their friends. They ride the near empty streets of Tokyo on his bike, enjoying the bright lights as they whiz through the city. She holds him closely, her warmth a comfort he’ll never take for granted now that he has it. They park a couple houses down from hers, kissing each other under the stars until they’re breathless. He walks her to the front door, sneaking one more kiss, wishing her a good night, already missing her once she’s inside. And although he has plans to see her again later for the festival, it isn’t soon enough. 

There’s this perfect balance that Mitsuya has somehow achieved amidst the chaos of being a delinquent. He’s always struggled to find that until Hana came into his life and changed it for the better. She gave him a reason to do something different in his life, to accomplish the dreams he had so often deemed impossible to attain. He can’t imagine a future without her now. 

He doesn’t know yet how quickly it can all change in a flash. 

~~~

There’s always this rush you wake up to in the mornings, a feeling that blossoms in your chest, has you staring up at the ceiling with a soft smile on your face. And it has everything to do with Takashi Mitsuya. 

It’s the way he greets you with a cute good morning text without fail, always the early bird to prepare breakfast for his sisters. You’ll never get tired of seeing his name on your screen, opening your notifications to read his message. Evidence that your love for one another exists, palpable and tangible. Not a dream you have to wake up from, but a reality you’re lucky enough to wake up to. You grin at his text, accompanied by a selfie of him, Luna, and Mana, posing with fluffy pancakes on their plates. This is the life you get to live now, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

His mother has this weekend off and plans to take the girls to their grandparent’s until Sunday, leaving Mitsuya free to attend the local festival tonight. It’s one more celebration before you start university later in the week. Another opportunity to make more special memories with him to add to the collection. 

You were dreading graduation, unsure what will happen to your relationship. School became a welcomed part of your routine, mostly because it gave you the chance to see Takashi on a regular basis. However, yesterday made all your concerns fade. It became clear to you that being with Takashi is as easy as breathing. You don’t need to think about it. The two of you find all the little ways you can be with each other. A lingering glance in the middle of a crowded auditorium, a secret kiss in the back of the classroom, holding hands at a party with their friends. A picture with your two worlds together to prove that all of this is real, that this love is real. You laugh at yourself for being worried over nothing.

You head downstairs, dressed casually with your tote bag hanging off your shoulder where your yukata is tucked neatly inside for later. Takashi invited you to his house before the festivities start, giving the two of you some much needed alone time. Your parents sit on the couch, watching one of their favorite cooking shows on TV. You approach them, sticking your head between theirs from behind. “I’m heading out now,” you announce, giving them both a smooch on the cheek.

Your mother smiles at you. “Have fun at the festival, dear.”

“Be careful,” you dad mutters, staring straight ahead. 

“I will. I love you.”

“We love you too, honey. And tell Takashi we say hello!” she adds, returning to her program. Your father snorts, making you chuckle. He hasn’t quite warmed up completely to your boyfriend, but it’s definitely progress. 

You take your time during the stroll to Takashi’s, enjoying the crisp air of the welcoming spring season. Sakura blooms around you, soft pink petals falling slowly until they paint the ground in their beautiful pink color. You make it to his house, knocking on his door twice, excited to see him. When he answers, you immediately launch forward to give him a hug. 

He laughs, squeezing you tightly. “Hi sweetie.”

“I missed you,” you say, burying your face into his collarbone.

“Now who’s the one who can’t go a few hours without me?”

You pout. “Yeah, you got me there.”

He laughs harder, scattering sweet smooches all over your face. “You’re the absolute cutest, you know that?"

The two of you cuddle on the couch, indulging in your favorite snacks while watching a movie that you barely pay attention to. Instead, you focus on Takashi’s lips on yours, his usually steady breathing becoming uneven as you deepen your kisses. His hands explore your body, slipping beneath your blouse to graze the plush skin of your belly, inching closer and closer to your bosom.

“Takashi,” you whisper, tugging at the collar of his shirt, unsure if you want him to keep it on or off, leaning towards the latter. You haven’t had sex yet, though you’ve gotten excruciatingly close to it, especially in heats of the moment like this. 

He pulls back, removing himself from you, blushing. “I’m sorry. We should…we should get ready now,” he murmurs, running his hand through his hair, catching his breath. Before you can respond, he stands up and rushes into his room, closing the door. 

You sit up on the couch, confused and concerned. You don’t want to stop. You want this. You want him.

“Takashi?” You tap your knuckles gently on the door, which is ajar and not shut all the way like you expected. 

“Come in,” he answers. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows to his knees, head bowed, like he’s ashamed. 

“Takashi,” you repeat, taking a seat beside him. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want to do it if you’re not ready. I just…can’t control myself with you.” 

You pull him close. “Then don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t control yourself.” You kiss him, placing his hands on you, giving him full rein. “Make love to me, Takashi. I’m ready. I want it.”

“Baby,” he gasps, kissing you back eagerly. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?” 

“Yes.” You lift your arms for him to hoist your top off. “Absolutely sure.”

It’s clumsy and messy, even a bit uncomfortable at first. But Takashi is careful with you the whole way, takes his time treasuring you as if you’re the most delicate, precious jewel he’s ever held in his hands. And while it feels good to be this physically intimate with him, it’s the way he looks at you that makes this more special. He doesn’t say it; you see it in his eyes. You’re safe with him, you always will be.

You snuggle in bed, gazing at each other with goofy grins on your faces. He cups your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb, unable to contain his smile. He turns to reach for his phone on the nightstand, checking the time. “I guess we should start getting ready,” he suggests, clearly more comfortable being here than anywhere else. 

“We still have tonight. After the festival,” you mention, trying to sound nonchalant. 

He tickles you under your chin, covering you in smooches. “You naughty girl! You really can’t get enough of me, huh?”

You giggle, putting in minimal effort to shrug him off. Honestly, you’re completely content with the idea of spending the night in with Takashi, then you remember the commitments you made to your friends who are expecting you. Eventually, you both get up to slip into comfortable clothes underneath your yukatas, appropriate attire for the occasion. As you inspect your reflection in the mirror, Takashi stands behind you, his hands on your waist, his mouth grazing the back of your neck. “You’re beautiful.” 

“You are too.” You reach behind you to pat his head, noticing something hanging from your sleeve. “Oh no, there’s a loose thread,” you point out, showing it him.

He examines at it carefully, tugging on it. “It’s not too bad,” he reassures you, giving you a peck on the cheek. “I’ll fix it later.”

When you’re ready to leave, you hop on the back of Takashi’s impulse with the helmet on your head, bunching the robe up your legs. He does the same, starting the ignition and driving off. It’s another lovely night, the bitter cold of winter replaced with the warm breath of spring. Everything seems so perfect when the two of you are together; maybe this is what people mean when they talk about being in the honeymoon phase. It may not be perfect forever, but to be able to experience it in the first place is enough for you. You’re the happiest you’ve ever been, and it’s all thanks to Takashi Mitsuya. 

You arrive about half an hour later than you said you would. Draken is the first to spot you, beckoning the two of you with a wave. Emma has her arm linked to his while Takemitchy and Emma hold hands next to them, everyone adorned in yukatas. They don’t question why you’re tardy, though you catch Draken nudging Takashi in the ribs, snickering. 

Mei and Keiko are also here; you retrieve your phone from your purse, texting them that you’ve arrived. They’re quick to respond, sending you their location so that you can meet with them. This seems like a great opportunity to introduce them to your new gal pals, so you, Emma, and Hina bid farewell to your partners.

Takashi smiles at you. “Have fun. I love you.”

You kiss him sweetly. “I love you, too.”

Draken points into his open mouth, faking a gag, while the two girls coo at how cute the two of you are. Your boyfriend gives you a wink, watching you leave with the girls. 

It doesn’t take long to find your friends, who are waiting at the carnival games for you. They introduce themselves to Hina and Emma, hitting it off right away when they compliment each other on their yukatas. Together, you make your way to the food stalls, everyone craving something different. Hina and Emma decide to stand in one of the longest lines for fresh strawberry mochi, which the soon-to-be mother claims is what the baby craves. Mei and Keiko have a hankering for okonomiyaki while you are undecided, wanting to peruse your options. “I don’t know what I want yet, so I’m going to keep looking around,” you tell them.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Keiko asks, concerned.

You nod. “Of course! I won’t be gone long. These two will probably be stuck here another half hour.”

“Maybe, but at least we’ll have delicious mochi in our bellies,” Emma teases, sticking her tongue out at you. 

You laugh, waving goodbye to them, setting off to explore on your own. At the third booth, you find a menu item that catches your eye. While you read the description, you’re bumped by someone from the back. Startled, you glance at the stranger behind you, the gold glint on his wire-framed glasses glaring amidst the festival lanterns. 

“Sorry about that,” he says, not sounding apologetic at all. It’s an unfamiliar voice, one you don’t recognize. Still, you have a sick feeling in your gut that something’s not right about this. In fact, something is terribly wrong. 

Nervous, you focus on the menu in front of you, avoiding him. “It’s okay,” you mutter, not really meaning it.

He continues to stand there, encroaching on your personal space. You can feel his eyes bore into you, watching you intensely. “Hana Shimizu. It’s you.” It isn’t a question, he doesn’t need a confirmation. He knows exactly who you are, as if he’s been seeking you out. Takashi’s Toman crash course from a few weeks ago replays in your mind and it’s now that you realize the man currently stalking you is Tetta Kisaki. Your heart races, terror stuck in your throat. You don’t respond to him, praying with every fiber of your being that he goes away, leaves you alone, as long as you ignore him.

His body presses against you, his mouth stifling on your ear as he whispers, “It’s dangerous to be out alone like this. Isn’t your boyfriend aware of that?”

You’re frozen in fear, feet rooted to the ground, unable to move. Trembling, you ask, “What do you want?” You desperately search for the vendor behind the table, who’s too busy speaking to another customer to aid you in your panic.

“I just want to talk. In private.” He grabs your wrist, holding you firmly.

“I’ll scream,” you threaten him, with as much conviction as you can muster at this point. 

He barks a harsh laugh. “Kinky. I can see why Mitsuya likes you so much.” His grip tightens, enough for you to start losing circulation. “But you won’t. Because if you do, Shuji will do exactly what he wants with those stupid friends of yours. He has his eye on sweet Keiko. He might try her out first.”

“No!” You face him, tears in your eyes, pleading with him. “Leave them alone. Please. I’ll…I’ll go with you as long as you don’t hurt them.”

His eyes narrow, the awful grin on his face widening. “Good girl.” Without taking his gaze off you, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, holding it to his ear. “I got her. Let’s go.”

You swallow thickly, resisting the urge to vomit as he leads you through the crowd of people who have no clue the danger you’re in. 

~~~

The festival is huge, one of the biggest in the district. There are food vendors on either side of the fairgrounds and the boys happen to be on the opposite end where the girls are. Mitsuya stands between Draken and Takemitchy, all three of them munching on takoyaki they stood twenty minutes in line for. When Takemitchy spits one out because it’s scorching hot, they laugh at him, giving him some of theirs to replace it.

“So,” Draken muffles, mouth full of food, “did you and Hana finally fuck?”

Takemitchy nearly chokes on another octopus ball, outraged by his friend’s lack of tact. “Draken! You can’t just ask him that!”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Why not? They were obviously late. Might as well have a good reason for it.”

Mitsuya chuckles. “It’s okay. I’ve learned a long time ago to accept this dude’s crude behavior.”

“So, I’m right, aren’t I? You two…” This time, Draken makes a fist in one hand, then pokes into it with his finger, deciding this obscene gesture was more appropriate.

Mitsuya smiles to himself, remembering it fondly. “Yeah, we did.”

“That’s my fucking boy!” Draken beams at him proudly. “How was it?”

“Draken!”

The younger boy is ignored while Mitsuya muses, “Amazing. She’s amazing. I love her so much.”

Draken jokes, “Damn, Taka. At this rate, Ken Junior might have a friend to grow up with.”

“No, no. We were safe.” He stares down at his shoes, still smiling. “I mean, that wouldn’t be the worst thing. I’d love to have a family with her someday.”

Takemitchy gawks at him. “Mitsuya, you’re really serious about her!”

He nods. “I’m seriously in love with her, yeah.”

When they’re about finished with their food, Mitsuya’s phone vibrates in his pocket. “It’s Emma,” he announces, confused. He picks up, and without waiting for a greeting, she asks, “Is Hana with you?” She sounds distraught.

“No. Why?”

“Oh my god,” she gasps, inaudible as she hands the phone off to someone else. 

It’s Hina now, shaky though a tad calmer than Emma. “We can’t find her. She’s not answering her phone.” She gulps loudly. “Mei and Keiko said that Hanma introduced himself to them at one of the booths. Gave them really weird vibes.”

At the mention of his name, Mitsuya’s heart sinks and panic immediately sets in. It’s his worst nightmare coming true. “Is Kisaki there?”

Keiko answers in the background, “Yes, he mentioned being here with his friend Kisaki. Mitsuya, what’s going on?”

Without thinking, he tosses the cell to Draken, who catches it, a concerned expression on his face. “Takashi, what’s wrong?”

“They took Hana!” he yells out, making a dash for the exit.  

“Who did?” They trail right behind him, doing their best to keep up in their robes. 

“Hanma and Kisaki!” he shouts, sprinting faster. 

“Those motherfuckers,” Draken curses, putting the phone in his pocket. “Takemitchy, stay with the girls. Keep a lookout for Hana and for those assholes!”

“Got it,” Takemitchy responds, changing course to follow his new orders. 

The Twin Dragons reach the parking lot, splitting up to hop on their own motorcycles. Draken rides his Zephyr next to Mitsuya, waiting to follow him wherever he goes. When he puts his helmet on, Mitsuya can hear his own blood pounding against his eardrums. His stomach turns with dread. How could he have let this happen? 

Suddenly, Draken cuts the engine off, reaching into his back pocket to answer Mitsuya’s vibrating phone. He shows the screen to him, an unknown number displayed. He quickly grabs it from his friend’s grip, answering it without speaking, certain who it is.

“Hey there, Little Taka.”

He clenches his teeth at the sound of Kisaki’s voice. “Where is she?”

“You shouldn’t have left her alone. Shuji warned you someone would come along and take her.”

“Where is she?!” he yells, spit flying out of his mouth.

Mitsuya can practically hear the snide grid on Kisaki’s face when he sneers, “We didn’t take her far, don’t worry. Your friends will find her soon enough. I’m surprised they didn’t hear her screaming already – ”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Mitsuya seethes through ragged breaths. “I’ll fucking kill you and Hanma. Make you fucking regret what you did until you’re both rotting in fucking hell.”

The other man snorts, unvexed by the threat. “Consider this payback for not minding your own fucking business.” Before he hangs up, he mutters, “I guess I’ll see you in hell.” 

Mitsuya’s hands shake violently, his entire body convulsing in a fit of rage. Just as he’s about to slam his phone into the pavement, it vibrates once more, Hina’s name flashing across the screen. 

Her voice is quiet and solemn on the other line, fighting back a sob. “We found her.” 

~~~

Mitsuya isn’t sure how long it takes them to reach Hana. Five minutes, thirty, an hour. Whatever it is, it’s too late; the damage is done and he has to see it with his own eyes. She’s sprawled on the ground, her yukata undone with the sleeves torn, her clothes underneath shredded and roughed up. There are scratches all along her arms, as if she was dragged across the pavement of the alleyway they currently gather in, outside the festival grounds. Her lip is split, cheek swollen, her right eye puffy and bruised. Blood trickles from her brow line down her face. He can’t bear to look at her, heart breaking each passing second as he holds her limp body in his arms, cradling her delicately. She’s unconscious, but breathing, and it’s the only solace he finds in this nightmare come true. He doesn’t realize that he’s screaming until Draken pulls his face into his chest to muffle his anguished cries, distracting him while the paramedics lay her out on a stretcher.  

It's all a blur, his memory in fragments. Draken shoving him in the backseat of Hina’s car. Keiko and Emma consoling him while he sobs, “It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault!” over and over again. Mei in the passenger seat, breaking the news to Hana’s parents, barely able to keep her composure. They make it to the hospital, Draken and Takemitchy following soon after on motorcycle. None of the girls can get Mitsuya out, so the two Toman brothers hoist him up by their shoulders and drag him inside the waiting room. 

When her parents arrive, Mrs. Shimizu is in hysterics, immediately demanding the staff to lead her to her daughter. Mr. Shimizu marches directly to Mitsuya, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him against the wall, hard. “This is your fault, you son of a bitch! You let this happen!”

Mitsuya doesn’t try to defend himself because he’s right; this is his fault. “I’m sorry,” he stutters, unsure what else to say. “I’m so sorry.”

Draken attempts to separate them while Takemitchy pleads with Mr. Shimizu, “Please, sir! It’s not his fault!”

Ignoring them, he snarls, “She should have never given you a chance! You ruined her life, you good-for-nothing thug!” He loosens his grip, wrestling away from Draken’s hold. “Don’t ever come near my family again,” he threatens, following his wife past the double doors leading into the ER. 

Mitsuya slides down the wall, tucking his head between his knees, bawling into his hands. He hasn’t stopped sinking into this darkness since she went missing, an abyss he didn’t even realized existed. 

Draken kneels besides him. “Hey man, don’t listen to him. It’s not your fault.”

“No, he’s right,” he snivels. “I ruined her life.” 

Takemitchy and Hina chime in with their own words of comfort, but nothing they say will make any of this better. Eventually, they leave him alone while they wait for any updates on Hana’s condition. 

Only the sound of Mr. Shimizu’s voice brings Mitsuya back to reality. He glances up, noticing him talking to Mei and Keiko as they follow him out, presumably to take them home. Emma is asleep on Draken’s shoulder while Hina has her boyfriend’s head on her lap, massaging his temples.

Suddenly, Mrs. Shimizu pokes her head through the doors. her eyes catching Mitsuya’s, her expression serious. She nods, beckoning him. He gets up and follows her through the hallway of the ward in uneasy silence. Finally, she says, “Hana is still unconscious, but stable. I thought maybe you’d like to see her.” 

He stares down at the linoleum tiles beneath his feet, his entire body moving in auto-pilot. Still, he manages to utter a quiet, “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t expect forgiveness from her, not right now, maybe not ever. He can’t even forgive himself. 

She doesn’t respond to his apology. It’s quiet between them until she stops in front of an open door near the end of the hallway. “Five minutes,” she states sternly, looking directly at him. “You have five minutes to say what you want to say. After that, you leave. I don’t want you near our daughter ever again. Do you understand, Takashi?”

He nods, unable to look at her, biting back tears. 

“Five minutes,” she reminds him, stepping to the side to let him through. 

He forces his feet to move, slow languid steps into the dimly lit hospital room. Hana’s in a gown, the scratches on her arms covered in ointment and gauze, in the process of healing. Her head is bandaged up, stitches noticeable on her right eye socket, where she must have been punched. There’s an IV and heart rate monitor attached to her, beeping steadily. He studies the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, ashamed to feel relief at a moment like this. She’s stable. She’s alive.

Three minutes into his allotted time frame, he finds the will to speak. His throat is sore from screaming, his voice coming out in rasp. “You didn’t deserve this,” he starts, already sniffling. “This should have never happened to you. I’m so sorry, Hana.” He takes a step closer, carefully placing his hand on hers. “You have to forget about me. You have to find someone that will protect you the way I couldn’t.” 

Flipping her palm face up, he tugs off his earring, dropping it into her hand, closing it into a fist. “I love you.” He brushes his thumb against her, relishing her soft skin one last time. “I’ll always love you.”

He leaves promptly, his gait quicker than it’s been all night, a fury ignited in him that can only be dealt in one way: revenge. As soon as he returns to the waiting room, he approaches Draken. “Give me the keys.”

He refuses. “You can’t go like this, man. It’s not safe – ”

“Give me the fucking keys, Draken!” he yells, startling the others. 

Takemitchy tries to reason with him. “What do you think you’re going to do, Mitsuya? Kill them? Go to jail? Get yourself killed?”

“I don’t care what happens to me anymore. I’m going to make those two pay even if it does kill me.”

“You’re being crazy right now! Let’s wait until the morning to figure it out –”

“Please,” he begs, tone changing to one of desperation. “Just give me my keys.”

There’s a heavy pause. Finally, Draken sighs, reaching into his pocket and tossing them to him. “How are you going to find them?”

Mitsuya retrieves his phone. “They want to fight. All I have to do is tell them I’m ready for one.” He selects the unknown number at the top of his call list, typing out a simple message: Let’s settle this.

A minute later, he receives a response, a pin to a familiar location displayed without any additional message. Mitsuya scoffs, oddly amused at how easy it is. He knows the game Kisaki is trying to play. 

“This is crazy!” Takemitchy exclaims. “You can’t go there by yourself!”

“He’s not,” Draken says. “I’m going with him.”

Emma tugs him by the wrist. “Ken, are you sure?”

He kisses her on the forehead. “Don’t worry, sweetie. The Twin Dragons are gonna rough them up, enough to scare them off. I’ll make sure Mitsuya doesn’t do anything reckless.”

“Fine, then I’m coming too!” Takemitchy puffs his chest out bravely. 

Hina makes a noise in her throat, but Emma pats her back. “They’ll be fine, Hina. Toman boys always know how to handle business.”

~~~

The three of them head to the location, Mitsuya on his Impulse and Draken on his Zephyr with Takemitchy riding with him. They end up at the empty parking lot of his school, where they were just at yesterday for the graduation ceremony. He ignores the tragic irony behind this to focus his attention on the two men standing in the center of the lot under a lamplight. “This doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Hanma jeers, sauntering towards them with his hands in his pockets. “It’s three against two. We’re outnumbered.”

“You didn’t care about that when you attacked Hana,” Draken counters, scowling at them, clenching his fists.

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, revealing a pocketknife, casually tossing it in the air to catch by the handle. “Oh well, we’re still going to kill all of you.” Hanma pounces first, throwing a dangerous jab at Draken, who dodges it smoothly, the blade barely grazing him. He launches a kick, sweeping his opponent by the ankle, knocking him to the ground.

Mitsuya homes in on Kisaki, running at him in a full sprint, wrestling him into the pavement. He’s stronger than him, especially on an adrenaline high like this. The mere thought of Hana covered in injuries sends him into a fury, his fists sinking into Kisaki’s face easily. What’s strange is that the other man doesn’t seem to want to fight back, taking each blow with a bloody smile. 

He wraps his hands around Kisaki’s throat, squeezing tight. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he shouts, disturbed by the persistent look of satisfaction on his face.

With a few teeth missing now, he smirks, voice barely a whisper as he chokes. “I told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d see you in hell.”

It’s too late to realize that Takemitchy is yelling his name, keeled over with blood leaking from his mouth. Too late to notice Draken is sprawled on the ground, a gash in his stomach that’s pooling crimson all over his yukata. As soon as Kisaki utters those words, Mitsuya is lifted back up to his feet, grabbed from behind. 

Hanma’s breath is hot on his ear, the blade cold against his throat. It’s cutting into his skin already; any slight movement and he’s dead. “She put up a pretty good fight, you know,” Hanma whispers into his ear. “Kicking and screaming the whole time. I had to drag her all the way into that alley before I could shut her up.” Then, he laughs, depraved and sinister, lacking any of joy or mirth. "Bet she’s just as feisty when you fuck her. If I had more time, I would have found out for myself.”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Mitsuya seethes through gritted teeth, every breath he takes making the knife dig deeper into his neck.  

Hanma’s cackle suddenly stops, his grip loosening on the weapon, causing it to fall to the ground. Mitsuya turns around to find Draken holding a knife, the blade stuck in Hanma’s back. 

“What the fuck…” Hanma stammers, blood sputtering out of his mouth, collapsing on top of Mitsuya, who catches him. Draken stumbles, his wound worsening by the second. Police sirens are blaring in the distance, and it’s only now that Mitsuya realizes that Kisaki is gone, driving away from the scene of the crime on his bike. 

Hanma continues to cough up blood, dying in Mitsuya’s arms. Takemitchy is beaten, but not as badly as Draken, whose injury could be fatal if not treated soon. In this split second that Mitsuya makes a decision, fond memories from his life play in his head like a movie in fast-forward. Luna’s first steps and Mana’s first words. His mom’s homemade cake for his seventh birthday. The day he reunited with Draken, finding out they both had dragons tattooed on their heads. The summer they found Toman with Mikey and the rest of his friends. The night he confessed to Hana and every day he’s had with her until tonight, when he had to say goodbye. I’ve had a good life, he thinks to himself. It’s a short one, but in the end, he’s lucky to have experienced it in the first place. Now, it’s time for him to return the favor to all the people who’s gotten him this far. 

“Takemitchy,” he calls out, removing his yukata and throwing it to his friend. “Take Draken’s bike and get him to a hospital. Wrap this around his wound so he doesn’t lose any more blood.”

He nods, obeying his orders and draping Draken’s arm over his shoulders, hobbling with him to the motorcycles. “Okay, we’ll see you there.”

Mitsuya shakes his head. “I’m not going.”

“What?”

The police sirens grow louder. “They’re going to wonder who did this. We can’t let them know it was Draken.”

“It was self-defense though!” Takemitchy argues.

“It doesn’t matter. They won’t let him off the hook for that. So, I’m going to take the fall for it. Watch after Luna, Mana, and Mom for me. And Hana. Please.”

Draken lifts his head slowly, clutching the robe against him, groaning in pain. “Fuck that. Come on, Takashi. Let’s go.”

“You’re going to be a great dad, Draken. And you’re going to do great things, Takemitchy. I’m sure of it.”

“We’re not leaving you behind!” 

In the distance, Mitsuya can see the flashing lights and they’re out of time. “Get out of here, now! Emma and Hina need you! Please!”

At the mention of their names, Takemitchy and Draken stiffen, not arguing any further.

“Get out of here!” he repeats, desperately pleading with them. 

Takemitchy rubs the tears away from his eyes, hauling Draken with him, who tries to protest, but is too weak. Mitsuya watches them leave on the Zephyr with a satisfied smile on his face, the sirens ringing loudly in his ears, finally at peace. 

[mrstsung]

Had a hard time falling back asleep so i drew some self ship smut. XD

Nothing explicit but heavily implied

Below cut anyways

Also btw this is mk11 shang tsung and/or mk 1995. Specifically mk11 but ya know.

Cw: smut. 18+

🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚💋💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍

Shang tsung taking his wife for the first time. You know consummating the marriage.

Nah this ain't the first fuck per say (let's not kid ourselves,if shang had an opportunity to fuck he would. Dont lie,i mean kombat be stressful,plus i don't think he's that picky. If you're horny,you're horny to him. And he's more than willing to oblige <3 >:3 but to me he's a "i only fuck my lover/love interest,otherwise I'd just masturbate. He has no time for "concubines" at least not anymore. Maybe when he served shao kahn or when he was "champion" or something like early outworld days. But now? Nah he's a busy man. Tournament master and running his isle of souls. Like i dunno to me shang's kinda also "if i like you,and you're also interested. Then shit honey,come over and get a taste of this Sorcerer's cock" type guy. I have hcs,so smutty hcs soon?). But the first fuck as his wife. Now lady tsung and lord shang tsung of the isle.

Ngl,the subtle smutty art and writing gets to me more. Hee hee

Oh you bet your ass shang tsung would be taking his sweet time with me.

I got ahead of myself. X3c

*hides face* ^/////^

Unf just hearing mk11 shang tsung tell me "good girl" makes me feel things. 😫🥺💖🥵💋

[thebirdygrace]

Death, and Other Dark Desires: Chapter 7

Lore glared at the screen before him, quietly seething at an unseen foe. For nigh on seventy-eight hours, Lore had been diligently stalking his next pray, yet at every opportunity, they managed to slip away. The metal arm of the captain’s chair groaned, protesting Lore’s angry grasp as he ruminated on his most recent failure, and as it always does, the past managed to seep in, bringing with it whispers and taunts from those worthless, pitiful humans, his father the worst of all, the way he’d allowed the colonists to treat him. As sub-human, as lesser than them! They called him a monster, excluded him, shunned him, and just like Victor Frankenstein, Lore’s father turned on him, he’d preserved his own skin rather than protected his creation, Lore seethed silently. It had been a transgression he could not forgive; it had been the catalyst that spurred the universe’s continued denial of what he was due, but no more! He would have the empire, the power, and control owed to him by fact of his superiority. He would have… everything.

The arms creaked loudly as they buckled slightly, the metal giving way under Lore’s grip, creating perfect impressions of his fingers on the shiny surface. He was growing weary of this chase, his first set of prey had been easy enough to catch: Klingons, Lore scoffed internally, what else should he expect from such a lowly race? He had hardly had to do anything save lure them to the cryo-chambers, what gullible saps. But this one, this tricky one, was getting on his last nerve, so to speak. Lore needed to get out of the quadrant as soon as possible; there were too many Starfleet vessels looking for him now. It wouldn’t be long before one of them, out of sheer dumb luck, would come across him, and his plan would be foiled. No, he’d waited too long, endured too much of Maddox’s bullshit and torture, and, worst of all, poor taste in music—2000’s pop, what a fucking psycho—to fail now, he would have his revenge and taste glory.

At the moment, though, as Lore sighed deeply, freeing his hands from the chair, a long way from tasting victory and getting nowhere with finding his prey, he wanted to taste something else, something that had been playing hard to get for a little too long—little Miss Lyla. He flicked the viewscreen to display the ship’s minuscule kitchen and dining area and watched on as Lyla sat at the square table in the center of the room. She sat upright, staring at the wall in front of her in complete silence, a tray of uneaten food in front of her. Apparently, the little bitch had been starving herself.While Lore assumed she was using the replicator in the captain’s quarters for food as she had for other things like replacing her clothes, she had simply been refusing to eat and collapsed that morning when Lore had forced her to hand copy all his transcriptions of Dr. Carlin’s research—there were more than two terabytes of information to sift through. Perhaps the doctor had been onto something, he’d said with a smile when giving her the order.

There was no doubt now, though he would still deny it, that Lore was infatuated with her… but he was growing tired of her petulance. There was always a percentage of his thoughts that were dedicated to planning all the ways he intended to own her, all the deliciously vile things he would do to her…, and all that she would eventually want him to do to her. Lore smiled as he allowed the thoughts of her to take over, becoming his primary focus, and as he always did, felt himself grow hard, aroused as his positronic network created images of her pinned beneath him, face down, ass up, writhing, crying, the flesh between her legs swollen, wet, and begging to be filled. Lore had never before dwelled in thoughts of physical pleasure; he believed them beneath him, the implantation of his weak organic father, but as he dwelled in them longer and longer, the more Lore realized the calming effect such a release could have.

There is no one thing about Lyla that kept her so predominantly featured in Lore’s thoughts; she was beautiful, for certain: long black hair, flawless caramel skin, lithe and perfectly proportioned body; she was also prideful, spiteful, rebellious, stubborn, unyielding, all the traits Lore loved, and yet she was not special. Lore thought little of her intelligence and even less of her opinion; he gave little thought or concern for her comfort or needs, and yet, when two days ago, in a fit of rage provoked by her sharp tongue, Lore had given in, choking her till he worried she would not wake again, he felt—rage. In the two seconds it took for Lyla’s unconscious breathing to kick in again when he released her, the only thing Lore felt was rage, rage at the thought of Lyla leaving him, and rage at never being able to feel the give of her flesh under his grip again. He’d seen her death as a betrayal, that is until she started breathing again, and then Lore convinced himself he’d never felt that way.

His desire for Lyla was not born out of affection, in truth, he could not say what it was that endeared her to him; perhaps it was simply that she scratched an itch he had not been aware of till now, as his father once said, “My son, I did not create you to be alone.” But that was when his father loved him—if he ever did. His father had said many things to him in his infancy, those early months when he’d yet to be introduced to the colony. When it was just him, father, and mother, when they still worshiped everything he did—as it should be, Lore seethed to himself, and as it will be once more.

Lore stood quickly and flipped the viewscreen off; he was done with letting Lyla believe she was in control. He would have his way, starting with her. She would bend to him willingly, or he would make her. Either way, she would becompliant.

------------------------------------------------

Lyla sat statuesque at the small square table in the ship’s dining area, staring at the wall with a pointed expression; she was more than acquainted with hunger, she was a ballerina, for fuck’s sake. It shouldn’t have been any surprise that Lyla chose to restrict food as a subtle underhanded rebellion, food was often the only thing she could control growing up. Her father, as with his father before him and his before that, were men of the iron-willed persuasion, and the women they married were docile and submissive. Her father had controlled every aspect of their lives growing up, from where they went to school, who their friends were, and even what they were allowed to wear, the Dominguez family name was always at stake, after all. Lyla, at times, supposed she should be grateful her father allowed her to dance as a child—ballet was a feminine endeavor, he’d once claimed, and since her mother had been a dancer in her youth, how could he argue? Unfortunately for her father, though Lyla had her mother’s grace, she had his stubbornness, and by the time he deemed that she had outgrown her childish stage and demanded she quit dance to pursue more academic endeavors, that combined with teenage hormones had led to one of only a handful of contrition’s her father had made in his lifetime.

The ballet was her escape, a space to indulge her stubborn nature, pushing herself further and further, exercising precision control in her approach to every aspect of her career and training. Control over her movements, her expressions, her position in the company, and control over her beastly appetite most of all. Lyla had never been overweight nor inclined to indulgence or gluttony, but as with many in her position, you could never convince her of that—and it was commonplace for her to be told the opposite—and over the years, her obsessive control nearly drove her to the hospital on many occasions. Not that her father had really cared, in his estimation, if she wasn’t going to hone her mind, at least it would be much easier to find a husband if she were pretty and thin. Now, as she flexed her refined control over her appetite, ignoring with ease the cramping pain in her stomach, Lyla ruminated on how desperately she wanted to be back in the London Ballet, losing herself to the pull of the orchestra. She dwelled on how much regret she had for giving in to her father and taking the job with Dr. Carlin, on how stupid she felt for believing, even if just for a moment, that she could make him happy, maybe even proud, but it had all been a lie.

Lyla’s body stiffened as the door of the kitchen slid open, and she heard Lore’s heavy footsteps slowly begin to approach. She refused to acknowledge him, keeping her gaze straight forward, leaning steadfastly into her stubborn nature. His presence loomed heavy over her momentarily before she felt his fingers graze the side of her cheek. Lyla snapped her head away, but Lore was faster, and gripping the nap of her neck, he held her in place as he crouched down next to her, meeting her eye to eye.

“You’re really beginning to test me. I told you to eat.” The only thing she’d touched in hours was the water.

“And I told you to go fuck yourself,” Lyla replied sweetly.

Lore’s grip on Lyla’s neck tightened, his golden eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her harshly, brows furrowed, nostrils flared, before an almost… quizzical look overtook his face. “What is it with you, Lyla?” He asked aloud, though it did not feel the question was intended for her, still, she answered.

“What is it with me what?” she bit.

His expression darkened. “What is it that drives you to be such a petulant little bitch? Hmm?” He shook her slightly. “Why must you vex me? It’s not as if I stole any sort of future from you. Daddy was never going to let you go back to the ballet.”

“He can’t control me. He never could.” Lyla scoffed. “There was no way in hell I was going to marry that drunken old man.” she spat.

“Oh, Lyla,” Lore laughed as he released her neck roughly, knocking her to the ground in the process. He watched in delight as she scrambled to her feet, the pretty floral dress she wore tripping her up in the process, and noted the corseted bodice for later. Lyla finally stood facing him, chest heaving, big brown eyes on fire with hate, skin flushed, limbs shaking, the rage that masked her fear hardly contained. “Daddy was in waaaay too deep with Dr. Carlin to ever let that happen. I assure you.”

Lore smiled as they slowly began to circle each other, Lyla retreating backward from his predatory gaze. “He was always going on about the Federation’s assured win on the engine’s bid, how much money he’d lent Carlin, he really had a big mouth, didn’t he?” He paused to linger on the jagged, heaving motion of Lyla’s chest, briefly imagining how it would feel to squeeze them until she screamed. “How does it feel?” He smiled widely as he saw her brown eyes gloss red with unreleased tears as he continued to goad her. Lyla, however, locked her jaw, gritting her teeth as she refused to answer. “You can tell me.” Lore tried to coax her smoothly. “How does it feel to truly know what your daddy thinks of you? Of course, you already knew.” he laughed. “You did warn me, but what does it feel like to hear it from the man himself, just how inconsequential you were to him?” 

When Lore thought she might break and begin weeping, her eyes hardened, and she sharpened her sights on him as she spoke in a falsely delicate tone. “What is it like, Lore? Daddy and Mommy left you for dead, and brother too. Right? That’s what you said. Wow!” She batted her eyes and feigned sympathy. “At least my mom and siblings loved me. No one gives a shit about you.”

There it is again, that venomous little tongue of hers. Lore rather liked that about her, and he did not wish to spoil such a pleasant feature in a woman, but he would have her compliance.

“You really are a mean girl, aren’t you?” Lore laughed. “Maybe that’s the real reason Daddy doesn’t love you. You’re just a little bitch who doesn’t do as she is told.”

“And you’re a psychopath who no one loves.”

This last line hit Lore with a certain resonance he could not pinpoint, but when it did, it triggered a more animalistic response than he’d intended. “You think you’re too good for him. You snooty little bitch, you think you’re too good for a man your father picks out.”

Lyla laughed callously. “I’m too good for most.” She looked toward him pointedly. “I’m no one’s fucking wife!” She shouted with a sudden bitter gusto of spirit. “I will not end up like my mother! I will not allow myself to wilt in someone else’s shadow!” she screamed recklessly.

“Oh, Lyla, I won’t let you wilt in my shadow,” he whispered sweetly and noted the immediate shift in her countenance, the uneasiness that set in, causing her to stumble as she started backing away a bit quicker. She did not enjoy his more affectionate side. Lore closed the gap between them with ease, catching her in his arms before she could break into a run. Lore would no longer wait for her to come to her senses on her own; his lusts were far too strong, and he didn’t care to restrain them any longer.

“Get off!” she screamed, trying to pull away from him, her voice beginning to pique with fear. 

“Beautiful, Lyla,” Lore continued as he began to undo the laces on the bodice’s corset, pulling them from the loops roughly.

“Stop it! Stop it!”

The heavy tenor of rage was gone from her voice, and all Lore could hear now was the sweet, delicate pitch of fear.“Oh, darling, I can only assume you want this.” Lore forced Lyla’s arms to her side and began to loop the long, satin laces from the corset around her. Tying her arms in place by her sides, he pulled the laces tighter and drank in the painful gasps she began to produce. “I’ve given you more than enough chances to do the right thing.” He tied off the laces and pulled her body close to his, leaning over her shoulder, he continued heatedly, “To do what you’re told. But you want to resist.”

Lore began to drag her backward by the laces as she screamed and kicked. He threw her on the small kitchen table, face down, hard enough that the tray of uneaten food jumped and landed with a thud, splashing Lyla with bits of porridge and milk. “You want to play hard to get. So, I’ll play your game, darling. I’m going to give you what you want.”

Lyla could practically hear the twisted smile in his voice as her legs hung over the side of the table, unable to reach the floor. She tried to kick and rock herself off, but Lore laid his torso on top of hers, resting his cheek next to hers, he forced himself between her thighs, pulling up her dress, and pressed himself against her roughly. Lyla could feel his firm arousal against her opening, through both his pants and the thin panties she wore. “Stop! Stop! Stop it!” she continued to scream.

“I gave you a chance, Lyla, and this is what you wanted.” Lore snaked his hand down between them and pressed two fingers against her opening, sinking them inside, he could feel her heat and the wetness of her swelling walls. “See,” he said, rubbing her through the thin, wet fabric, “look how ready you are.” He felt her buck against him or try to, as she had no leverage, and her toes could hardly scrape the floor.

“Get the fuck off me!” Lyla’s throat grew raw, and her voice cracked as she writhed beneath him, body thrashing against his in vain.

“You know what I haven’t heard once from you? Please.” Lore grabbed her panties by the crotch and ripped them from her body, the fabric digging into her hips painfully before it tore. “Is that why you’re such a little bitch, huh? Because Daddy never taught you any manners?”

“Fuck you! You fucking bastard get off!” Her face was painted red with fear and shame; her eyes pinched closed as though not looking would save her, her face stained in tears, teeth gritted in anticipation of the inevitable. 

“You really are beautiful, Lyla,” he soothed as he snaked his hand back between her thighs, slowly sinking his fingers into her tight, warm center as she screamed out in pain and fear. “I wasn’t lying when I told you I enjoyed your dancing,” he continued as he delighted in her sudden change in affect when he began to massage her swollen walls. Sinking his fingers in and out of her slowly, tenderly, and expertly enticing her g-spot, he enjoyed how her breath hitched on the inhale as she desperately tried to suppress her arousal. He enjoyed the way her sharp screams and demands faded into uncontrolled weeping. Such a lovely sound, she always makes such beautiful music when she finally shuts up, he thought. “It’s such a shame your daddy didn’t value you enough… that he didn’t see how much you were really worth.” Lore teased, his words sickly sweet and dripping with venom.

“Stop it!” Lyla wept. “Stop!”

“Is that all you can say to me, Lyla?” he feigned insult as he felt her body climax around his fingers, her muscles tightening around him as he forced another finger inside her. “See Lyla? You wanted this. Look how ready you were for me.” He breathed into her ear, pushing her toward climax again, indulging in her uncontrolled sobs, in the pressured, incoherent string of syllables she released between the gasps for air and tears, and in the way her sweet, warm center felt as it quivered around his skilled fingers. As his pants grew painfully tight around his thickened arousal, the need to feel himself buried deep inside her was insatiable.

“Don’t worry, darling, Lyla. I see what Daddy doesn’t, and I’ll give you what you need. I’ll treat you like the little fucking princess you think you are,” he punctuated each word with a painful thrust, eliciting from her a flurry of high-pitched screams as he continued, “And I’ll give you all the discipline you need.”

As Lyla climaxed around his fingers once more, she could feel her body start to twitch beneath him, her lower stomach muscles spasming and cramping before he removed himself from her. For a brief moment, Lyla felt her body relax. She slumped hard on the table, slipping slightly over the edge, the sharp corner of the table digging into her hips. Her arms were sore as the laces from her dress dug into her skin, and her fingers were cold and numb from lack of blood flow. Sobbing silently, face wet with tears and snot and spit, she felt Lore stand, followed by the sound of slacks unzipping and falling to the floor, and every muscle in her body tightened once more as she felt his cold skin against the inside of her thighs, and his large, firm member, slick with arousal, push against her opening as he lay his body back on top of hers. Lyla bit her tongue—hard—clenching her body firmly as Lore threatened to enter her, she didn’t want to scream, she didn’t want to give him any more satisfaction, but as he plunged himself in, violently sinking all of himself into her at once, she could not hold back. Even without Lore’s well-endowed status, Lyla was a petite woman, the top of her head hardly reached over his shoulder, and her frame was slender, with little fat on her—of which, now, Lore understood why.

The sensation of being inside Lyla was intoxicating. It was almost overwhelming at first how good her swollen walls felt around him, and for a minute, Lore could only press into her deeper, forcing every throbbing centimeter of himself in her until he could feel the slight give of her hip bones beneath him, and Lyla screamed out in sharp pain as the edges of the table dug into her skin. Lore had pleasured himself many times, mostly as a means of eliminating distraction, but it had never felt as good as Lyla. If he were a weak man, a pitiful organic being, he might have cum right there, but he wasn’t done with her, he needed to feel her body quiver and writhe around him, to feel her succumb to his lusts around his throbbing cock, then he would be done with her.

Lore began to pump in and out of her, slowly as first, dragging himself out fully before painfully plunging back in, loving every utterance of pain she released. As her walls swelled around him, and her body twitched from the overstimulation, Lore began to thrust faster, slamming his body against hers, and the table scratched the floor as it jolted and moved beneath them. Lyla screamed as the table dug into her hips each time Lore forced himself into her, but Lore was hardly concerned as he considered himself to be holding back.

As Lore tasted of her flesh for the first time, his infatuation began to blossom into obsession; slowly, he would find he was no longer satiated with the idea of owning her… he would need her to love him. He could already feel the need begin to grow, sprouting in the back parts of his mind where he began to dwell on thoughts of love. Of how he’d been denied it his whole life… the love of his parents, of the colonists, all stolen from him by their witless, inferior organic nature. Even his brother denied him love, betraying him for his Starfleet friends, and when, with his dying breath, Lore had whispered, “I love you brother,” … he’d said nothing. As he fed his lusts for Lyla, her love became a trophy he had to possess, something he alone was due, that he alone was worthy of… she would see… he would make her see. He would desecrate her ‘self’—the idea of her as an individual and absorb her into him. He would own her body, mind, and soul—whatever humans considered that to be—and he would have her love.

“I could easily crush you.” He whispered in her ear and delighted in her continued sobs as he slammed into her harder and harder, edging her bones toward the breaking point as he gave into his consuming lusts. “But I don’t want to do that, Lyla.” He could feel his end growing near as Lyla reached her unwilling climax around him, face stained with tears and bits of food, her body fully spasmed around his cock as she cried out from the raw, painful sensations throbbing throughout her body. “You’ll see, you’ll want to be owned by me,” he grunted as he slammed into her one last time, releasing his climax into her warm center, causing the table to scrape loudly as the force of his thrust pushed it across the smooth metal floor. Lyla released a piercing, high-pitched scream as his hips crushed down on hers; the table cut into the creases on her hips, her skin split on the apex of where both hip points hit the table, and little gashes opened on either side, trickles of blood dotting her skin as Lore had yet to release the pressure of his body against hers. When he did, he ripped away violently and watched as Lyla slid from the table, landing with a heavy thud on her side.

Lore loomed there for a moment, basking in the glow of her shame as she lay crumpled at his feet, filthy, covered in bits of food, blood, and cum, twitching and weeping silently. “So pretty,” he whispered before bending over to retrieve and put on his pants. He then grabbed Lyla by the laces still tied around her arms and hoisted her up. Incredulously, she began to protest, kicking her feet and thrashing around like a dying fish as Lore slammed her down in the chair she’d been sitting in when he walked in. She yelped as her ass hit the firm seat and as Lore scooted her up to the table, crushing her ribs against the edge.

“Now,” Lore sighed, “I have so many other things to do today, Lyla. We’re done with this little game.” He ripped the laces off in one fell swoop. Lyla could finally breathe deeply as the blood began to rush back to her fingers and hands, and she tried to ignore the unbearable pins and needles that followed.

Lore grabbed the tray of uneaten food that had slid off the table in the process, falling to the floor, toppling the liquids, and spilling them over the cold porridge, biscuits, and assorted fruit, and slammed it in front of her. “Eat.” He demanded. “I can’t have my assistant passing out again.”

Lyla stared at the tray blankly for a moment. Her body was tired and bruised, and she felt the weight of her emotions pushing down on her like the weight of a bridge on the verge of collapse, and yet… even here, in these most bitter struggles, her stubbornness peaked its ugly head, bathing every sorrow and violation she felt in blood red, rage. She would not be controlled by him; she would not be controlled by anyone! Lyla sat up straight, her legs shaking beneath her as she adjusted herself in the chair, she did her best to straighten her dress and fix her hair, which in many places had become matted to her face.

“What a vain little girl,” Lore laughed. Lyla bit her tongue, but he could see the anger in her clenched jaw as he spoke. “Eat.” He demanded again when she did not move after completing her grooming ritual.

Lyla looked up at Lore, a lovely apathetic look on her face as she sighed deeply and, with cat-like precision, flicked the tray off the table. It crashed to the floor, the food hitting with a hard splat, one of the cups shattered, and little bits of glass scattered across the kitchen.

“I told you I wasn’t fucking eating that,” Lyla said flatly.

Lore looked at her, then to the floor and the mess of food and glass, then back at Lyla, a malicious smile spreading across his face. “Oh, Lyla, you’re going to regret that,” he whispered.

[ikkaku-of-heart]

@ferromagnetiic asked: 💔💔💔 // i would like to order 3 different exes, please! Send 💔 for my muse to talk about an ex (Still Accepting)

"I briefly dated a guy during the early days of sailing the Grand Line. I honestly didn't plan for it to last very long. Just until the log pose reset and we left the island. I made it clear that I wasn't interested in staying with him, but...well, he was convinced that I'd fall in love with him and give up my life at sea. I tried to leave on good terms, but he insisted on trying to convince me to stay with him and start a family. I tried to tell him that it couldn't happen anyway, since I was sterile, he...he completely did a 180. Said I was broken and sick in the head. I don't regret leaving that dickhead, but there's a part of me that wishes Law had heard that argument so he could have made the guy regret having met me. I sure regret meeting him for how much doubt he put in my mind. But he's ancient history. I don't even remember his name anymore."

"Unfortunately, I can't say the same for Kasanoda, much as I wish I could forget him. That fucker was a Devil Fruit user who could manipulate emotions. Was decently subtle with it, too. Actually made me fall in love, or think I had, and then when he was done with me, fucked with my emotions even more so I'd feel some of the most intense heartbreak imaginable so I couldn't beat his face in. Son of a bitch made me do things I never would have done because he messed with my head so bad. Thankfully, this time Law was around to make that fucker suffer. I actually rank him worse than Hawkins because at least most of what he and I did was consensual. Kasanoda was basically a date rapist for what he did with his powers."

"Sigh. And, of course, we now come to Hawkins. Because there's no way he wouldn't make this list. I won't lie, when we weren't trying to play each other, the relationship was...nice. He made me feel feminine and appreciated for more than just my ability to build neat shit or my connection to Law. Treated me like a lady when we went out, was great in the sack, and actually listened to me when I was venting or talking about something I was passionate about. But I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. And fuck did it ever. I don't know if he was always insane, if the past two years made him that way, or if something on Wano just made him snap, but fuck. I can't take the feeling of straw anymore because of him. The worst part is that unlike the other two, I can't be sure he won't pop back into my life. Like, he should be dead but...I think I'm always gonna be looking over my shoulder, expecting him to be waiting for me in the shadows. And I think that's what I hate the most about him. That I'll never truly be free of him."

[hanasnx]

Hello! May I please request a smutty Han Solo x fem!Reader with prompt #11 and/or prompt #42 (I loooove daddy dom Han)?

prompt: #11 + #42

MINORS DNI 18+

prompt list | rules WC: 0.9k | CHARACTERS: han solo x f!reader WARNINGS: sexual content | implied smut | dom!han | kinks: size, daddy | arguing

"Are you serious?" the incredulous tone of HAN SOLO follows you as you march away from him. "Where do you think that little ass is goin'? We aren't done talkin', sweetheart." his condescension is unnecessary, but it conveys his exasperation. The thunder of his boots catch up to you, and a large hand reaches out, latching onto the back of your belt at your tailbone. Effortlessly, he arrests you, directing your body to a sunken doorway in this hall. The attendants of this base pass you by to perform their duties, and he points a finger in your face. "What's the attitude for, huh?" His finger turns on him, gesturing to his chest with a raise of his brows, "Did I do somethin'?"

"Typical!" you huff, throwing your arms into the air in an annoyed and defeated motion. You're tired of this, you don't want to explain things to him, you just want him to figure it out. He's supposed to be smart, isn't he? When you go to retreat, he palms your upper arm, drawing you right back where he wants you.

You regain your footing after your stumble, and he straightens, crossing his arms. "I ain't gonna chase you anymore, sister. Get it out now while you've got my ears."

When you reluctantly concede, and check each ways of the passage, you conclude you can't talk here. The door next to you gives you an idea, and with all your suspicious looking around Han gives you a questioning expression, pivoting his head to eye you from the side with a brow furrow and parted lips. You slam your hand against the door controls, sliding it open, and dragging him inside by his wrist. Once you're sealed in the safety of this small storage room, you round on him.

"You've ignored me every since we got to this stupid base, and as soon as you realize I'm mad at you— suddenly—" You gesture wildly. "you're interested! Then—"

"There's more?"

You scoff indignantly. "Yes, Han! There's more!"

He nods, cutting you off. "Oh, I get it. Okay—" It earns him a deep frown from you.

"—What? What do you get—?" you taunt, and he persists.

A shrug, a stupid pinch of his shoulder to his neck as he raises his voice to match yours, "I've been 'neglecting' you, right? That's what this is about? You're acting out like you need a good fuck!"

"Han!" you scold.

"Well, that's what you're tellin' me!" When he drops his arms and advances on you in a leisure lumber, you back up out of instinct.

"Don't you dare think you can touch me right now." you warn, but as usual Han sees right through an empty threat, your back against the shelving.

“C'mon. Be a good girl for daddy.” he condescends, "I'm giving you what you want. You'll feel better after, right? After daddy does his thing? Give it here." The annoyance is apparent in his responses. Once you're trapped against the shelving, he stoops. He towers over you, and in order to reach the space between your legs, he tips his body to the side. Defiantly, you twist your hips, jerking away from his hand. You don't like his attitude, or that he thinks he can just do whatever he wants, or how he makes fun of you, using your kink against you. "You gonna fight me for it? Sweets, we both know you can't hold out long. So jus' lemme get you off and we can put this whole thing behind us."

Something about an argument puts you over the edge with him. You've never conversed with anyone so frustrating, someone that brought this side out in you. You hate the way he solves problems, and you hate how sometimes when he solves these types of problems by getting you off that it's successful. Embarrassingly so. There's a part of you that wants to put him to work, but that won't fix everything. He has a shitty way of apologizing.

"Like I'd let you walk all over me and then act like it's all good after! Again!" you seethe through gritted teeth. You meet his gaze at eye-level with you, jutting your chin when you press your lips into a line.

"Why?" he plays dumb, but there's a knowing hint of a smile on his crooked mouth. "You're good at it."

Clearly, he'll need a different approach. With a cautious glance behind his shoulder at the door, he confirms it's not locked, which adds to his thrill. He sighs, adjusting his pants to accommodate his knees when he gets on them.

"At least let me check somethin'."

A sick sense of pride blooms in your chest at the sight of Han kneeling in front of you. He doesn't do it often, but you know where this is going. So you begrudgingly offer your hips to him.

"There, see?" he praises, thick fingers hooking in your bottoms to undo and tug them down. "Was that so hard? Let me do this right." Like a man would, he sucks on the tips of two of his fingers, cleaning them off before he wedges them between your thighs, swiping at your folds. You're slick. "That's what daddy thought. He's always right."

You shift forward, warning him wordlessly about his poor choice of words. The side of his nose scrunches charmingly in his amusement, his crooked grin spreading onto his handsome features. You denied yourself the possibility of smacking it right off. Still tentative, you won't widen your stance, and so he peels your pants further down to give you room to.

“Spread your legs for daddy, I want to see you.”

[writer-and-artist27]

Or the author decided to dip her toes into the realm of smut/mature content for the first time ever, with the encouragement of @partialdignity (Thankie, Carim) and other friends. So content warning here, for some removed clothing and kissing. Just saying.

Heavily inspired by real life and how the journey to even committing to the action of sex itself possibly being a slow one, with two partners trying to explore each other at their own paces.

Canonically takes place after Olympus and Heian-Kyo in Part 2 of FGO, following this bond story from Tumblr. And is canon to Passing Days. 

Was listening to Idol from YOASOBI when drafting, funny enough.

FFN link here. 

[localcanadiancreature62]

MOREE Lobotomy husbands stuff

I can't get enough of these two istg-. Anyway more fucked up mind fuck husbands musings.

Bill and Ford simultaneously fix each other and make each other worse with their marriage ngl. Ford is allowed to be insecure and vulnerable without any fear of getting harassed or insulted for it (*cough* Filbrick *cough*) while also not having the keep up the mask of being a high and mighty oh so brilliant genius around Bill,he can just be himself. Meanwhile Bill can be vulnerable emotional and weak even around Ford without any fear of getting his power undermined or scaring the genius off with his dumb feelings/outbursts,he doesn't have to be the all seeing all powerful cosmic near deity with his researcher husband,he can just be his silly and slightly pathetic self around him. But also they give each other more issues. Bill now has abandonment issues as he's absolutely terrified of losing Ford now that he has everything he always wanted and thus he makes sure to do EVERY countermeasure to keep the man to himself even if it hurts him while Ford is emotionally dependant on Bill to the point of not being able to deal with his own feelings without the triangle around. He needs his triangular husband to coddle him and constantly reassure him so that he can remotely function,he needs Bill to build his shattered self esteem,and he feels empty/antsy whenever he's not around (give him therapy pls omg).

Bill is less reckless with things now that he has more to lose,he makes sure to be very careful with what he says or does because if he messes up then he'll lose the one thing he ever had,Ford. He feels like he's walking on eggshells whenever he's with Ford or in the Perfect World,as he knows that one day he'll mess up in an irreversible way that even his reality warping powers won't be able to fix. If he royally fucks up,then he'll end up losing Ford his new reputation as the Multiverse's Guardian and even his power. He has seen alternate timelines where he loses everything just because he had one huge misstep in his life,which is why he's now slightly perfectionistic with himself with the way he acts around Ford and within the Perfect World whenever it comes to making mistakes.

Bill only uses his regular triangle form during sex whenever he's pleasuring Ford or he's the one under,otherwise he uses a human form to bang the genius in order to make things easier for them both. To add onto this,Bill often uses his human form to pleasure Ford to relieve his CEO related stress aka to either bang him or give him a handy.