#uhhhh has this been done yet

[ella-ashmore]

charles dickens' a christmas carol:

long

reading

what the fuck, no 80s themed music?

vhs christmas carols:

fuckload of 80s themed music

bob cratchit wrapped up in a warm jacket

mullet marley

three times as many stories for your buck

bgs

[zwiebelii]

Hhhnnnngghhhhhh having a fight with my boyfriend

[schizononagesimus]

[covered in blood] i did it. Only two major plot points left. And then i can be free.

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”

“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh. 

A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year. 

But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.

Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement… 

“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”

And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?” 

That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive. 

“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”

“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.

However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”

“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer. 

Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”

No words, only tapping keys.

“Y/n?”

The keys become louder. 

“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?” 

Louder.

“Y/n!!”

A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.

The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”

You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.

“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”

“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”

You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?” 

“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”

You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”

“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.” 

You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…

After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry. 

“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty. 

“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?” 

“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”

“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…

Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”

“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”

The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.

“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.

"I know you are."

"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”

A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.” 

No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”

You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”

“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”

“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”

You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.

“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.

“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“

“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”

“…….Which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“

“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”

Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”

“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”

Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye. 

You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets.  Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.

….Three Hours Later….

The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed. 

Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up. 

The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.

What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?

“Ah, look who’s awake.”

You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.

Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!

Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.” 

A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”

“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.” 

Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further. 

“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”

He? Wait, wait, we??

The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.

“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?” 

You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”

It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.

“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.” 

You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?” 

The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?

“…Yes, I do.”

“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”

Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”

“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”

He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.” 

The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”

“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.

“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”

You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”

Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.” 

“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.” 

So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life! 

You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!

“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.” 

Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!

“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”

“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.” 

Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!” 

Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.

“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going. 

As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.

So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night. 

Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can. 

“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”

You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck. 

Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you. 

“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished. 

He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like. 

Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”

“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…

He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.” 

Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt. 

It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”

“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock. 

And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!

“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment. 

Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”

When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!

“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!

…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.” 

With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time. 

It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?” 

Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!

“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”

Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.

“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”

You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…

Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?

You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.

A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body. 

And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.

Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡

Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?

Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened. 

You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…

However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents. 

And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.

Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.

SR + TF

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororgi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[hanwiore]

a/n: little smut for könig! I love him uhhhh, don’t mind any typos, my pussy wrote this and she’s really tired rn okay!

“uh fuck! s-sorry!” you whine, drool slipping pass your once glossed glittery lips. a smack was swatted against your left ass cheek this time, painting an angry dark red against your brown skin. “cussin now, love? tsk.” two smacks were swatted on the back of your thighs this time.

yours thighs instantly closed, your wetness dripping down them, “g-god, m’ sorry daddy, uhn gosh, m’ so sorry.” it was a shame really, you came to königs house looking so cute, hair freshly done in a half up, half down with a bow right on top of the ponytail. white fold over leggings with a baby pink fitted jacket, you came looking comfortable and smelling so good just to get in trouble.

all because you said his enemy ‘Simon ‘ghost’ Riley ’ was an attractive male, of course it was a joke. I mean, you said it days ago! you thought it was over. but you should have known messing with a guy who have gone through things among what you can imagine would go so kindly on someone who means little harm.

“ja, you sorry baby?” he hums, face sounding tired but in truth. he’s holding back from fucking you. your face is bent over the arm rest of his big couch, booty perched up while your cherry printed panties are half way down your butt cheeks. leggings down to your ankles as your toes curled underneath your fuzzy socks. “hm? you sorry?” he grabs the hood of your jacket, grips it to pull your whole body up, “the fuck you sorry for huh? tell me.”

the same hand on your hoodie moves to the front of you to grip just an inch under your jaw, he moves you back enough to you feel his bulge against your ass. “I-i didn’t mean it papa, I s-swear.” you gargle, still shaking from the spanking you have received.

his lips moves to kiss the side of your forehead, then moves down to your neck, “yea, I know princess.” now his other hand moves and covers your pussy, you feel him moving it against your bud slowly. and you being so damn sensitive, you think you could’ve came right then and there if it wasn’t from the sudden slap he left on your cunt. “ha-haah! daddy- oh my g-gosh.” your body jerks forward and your thighs press against each other, you barely get a moment to do so before your receiving another slap, this time to your boobs that was revealed due to him tugging the zipper down.

you felt like crying, you really did. you whimpered out loud, your fingers found their way to both of his wrist—the one on your jaw and the other one on your thigh that forces it open—you squeeze them as you beg. “p-please. I-it hurts so much.” honestly, you were lucky. you may not have felt as if you were but god, it could have been worse than this. but könig just has a sweet spot for you, you haven’t ran away from him yet, you take it like the good girl you are, he hurts you and you come to him to fix it.

he loves it.

he loves you.

“it hurts princess?” he moves his arms away from you, pushing you back down so your ass is back in the air. “mines hurts too.” his jagged fingers goes and squeezes his dick through his sweats, “fuck, hurts so bad. m’ drippin’ baby.” he sees your head moving to lay flat on your cheek so you can look back at him, a pout on your cute face but he can see your eyes.

you fucking adored him.

“l-love you so much daddy, d-daddy i love y-you so much.” he smiles at that, he bends down slightly to kiss both of your perky butt cheeks, that jiggles with every quiver you’ve made. And all of a sudden you gasp as he quite literally tongue kisses your pussy. His nose so close to your puckered hole as his tongue is making out with the hole that creates the taste he’s obsessed with.

“o-oh.” it almost sound like a cry for help, you were so happy though. you felt so good. you relax against the couch, dainty fingers grabbing anywhere to calm your racing heart and shaggy breathing. “mph, h-heavens.”

his hands grips the fat of your ass to scoot you closer against him, tongue now going side by side against your clit, nose just as wet as his mouth is. then he does the most disgusting thing ever and spits right on your pussy just to slurp it back up and spit on your puckered hole. his thumb is already in there before you think, “oh! f-fuck, shit-,” you know you aren’t allowed to say such words but you just can’t help it.

and he knows, daddy always knows.

he leans back up and pulls down his sweatpants half way down his thick tensing thighs.

you feel it on the wet hole he just spit on. and you’ve seen it a thousand times but you loved to see it all over again.

it was uncut, pink with veins peaking out here and there, but it was so fucking thick. and when ever he was hard enough the extra skin will peel slowly down to show his angry red—wet— tip. You loved it.

that fascination was short lived once you were flipped over and your knees were damn near touching your shoulders, “put it in for me.” his breath was almost as ragged as yours was.

your long acrylic nails, painted pink and white with 3D flowers on it every where clinked against eachother as you stroked his dick once, twice until you slapped it on your chubby lips. making a slimy sound, almost sounds as if it hurts before your pushed it into you.

“d-daddy- o-oh daddy fuck- imma cum a-already.” you moan once he bottoms out. his hands rested right by your head on the arm rest, his legs bent slightly so he can give you short but fast strokes that bruise your g-spot tremendously.

“yea, you taking it baby? taking that d-dick.” his hair falls across his forehead slightly, lips bitten red from his own abuse. eyes clenched shut. “f-fuck mama.” his rough hand slaps your thigh once he picks up the pace more, putting his hands on the back of your knees to fold you impossibly. he was so urgent, urgent to please you. urgent to make you fucking scream.

and you were.

he swore you can make a perfect picture.

you pink bow still in your hair as your hair flows across the couch. eyebrows furrowed and cute lips open slightly to let out the most, sluttiest but cutest whines ever. “a-ah, ah, ah. y-yes daddy- m’ taking it, uh.” your hands moved to grab behind your thighs instead of his while he moves back to inspect your pussy.

he goes to take it out, only an inch away from going completely out before he drops right on in, as if he was tired of doing push ups and gave up. he watches your brown fat pussy lips open wide from his heavy dick, watches how the inside of vibrant pink was creamy with white substance that you caused.

“S-shit, fuck- you creamin on my shit liebe?”

you cry out, head falling back, “c-can’t help it- daddy imma cum- gonna make me cu-cum!” your legs start to shake as well as your walls do, it makes him go sloppy a little bit before he moves forward and now have his hands in fist, legs straight while his fit is on his toes, and he goes absolutely ham in your pussy.

Goes up, then drop again.

Ya’ll make a beautiful musical.

Slapping sounds from his thick chubby balls slamming on your wet asshole, slimy sounds from your wetness and his precum, whiney moans from your and his deep groans that he can’t help but let out.

cause he knows he digging that lil shit out. he knows it.

you’re cumming already, three more strokes in and your absolutely convulsing against his cock. “Ah-ah-ah d-daddyyyy, oh my fu-fucking gosh!” Your fingers pinch your thighs as you can feel your wetness stream from your pussy down to the bottom of your ass on the couch.

he’s not far behind you. between your face, the bouncing of your tits and your tight & wet ass pussy taking his dick like a soldier, every single time makes him moan in your face.

“gonna make cum schönes mädchen.” he legs pull forward so he back on his knees and he pulls you above him, while he’s sitting up. You let go under your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck, reaching around to rub your fingers through his hair as you moan in his ear, “give it to me daddy, gimme it. wan it so bad!”

both of his hands are on your hips, grinding you almost angrily onto his dick, he felt so fucking good.

“a-ah fuck, fuck baby, s-shit-“ he’s grabbing the back of your neck as you feel a warm squirt of cum go inside your throbbing hole, and he’s still going. “G-goddamn.” he shoves his face in your neck as he moves his hips up against you slower and more sloppy.

“no more scherzhaft, yes?” he huffs into your ear.

“yes, no more joking.” you mumble.

[tritoch]

Have you got any thoughts to share about Sphene? I saw your post about how misrepresented FFXIV’s female characters are, and I’ve been hoping to see anything more than the typical “Evil AI colonizer etc.” or “Tragic woman who can never change ever” or “Wuk Lamat’s girlfriend”. Maybe our interpretations will differ but I’ll be happy if you can provide anything more complex than those.

Sure! Throwing all this under a read-more for anyone who hasn't finished 7.0 yet. I think I'll probably expand on this more later but wanted to get initial thoughts down. (Note after writing: I meant this to be brief but uhhhh brevity is not my strong suit sorry. This take just sort of ends abruptly because I realize I'm rambling.) Again, spoilers through the end of 7.0 MSQ.

I think Sphene is the sharpest work the game has done yet in casting the antagonist as the noble double of the protagonist (a well it returns to a lot with Emet, and Zenos, and Golbez, and...). But because the protagonist here is Wuk Lamat and not the Warrior of Light, that's also a much more defined and interesting role. To me, Wuk Lamat is, above all, the Righteous Queen, who rules thoughtfully, wisely, and justly, and whose claim to the throne is justified by her moral clarity. Sphene, in turn, is also a wise and good queen, one who undertakes all her actions with her people first in her hearts, a sense of compassion towards all, and a clear eye for the consequences and costs of her intended course of action. And it leads to utter disaster, for her, her people, and the people of Tural. That rocks!

The first half of 7.0 is about justifying the fact that Wuk Lamat's going to be Dawnservant. Wuk Lamat is compassionate, curious, wise, and open-minded. She wins over rebels and malcontents not by asserting her authority or by strength of force, but by taking her obligations to them (as her subjects) seriously. She knows many of her subjects personally and takes a great interest in their lives, and she respects even those who openly oppose her.

And everything Wuk Lamat does, Sphene does to 11. Wuk Lamat respects her subject peoples and is curious about their cultures? Sphene forcibly annexes Yyasulani, but goes out of her way and expends Alexandria's limited resources to enable the remaining Xak Turali to live in their accustomed way if desired (…to the extent allowed by the new permanent lightning storms and the internal conflicts caused by regulator adoption). Wuk Lamat cares about her people not just in the abstract but as individuals? Sphene visits sick kids, knows them by name! Wuk Lamat understands the burden of rulership is too great and cedes half her power to her brother? Sphene recognizes her own weaknesses and makes a deal with the devil to keep Alexandria's culture alive! Wuk Lamat is willing to die for her people? Sphene will forcibly traumatize herself into being a better queen, if that's what rulership demands.

For an expansion that spends the first half being like "wow isn't this perfect candidate for the crown so likable and humble? wouldn't it be nice to be ruled by a good king?," it sure is funny that the final boss is THE QUEEN ETERNAL and she hits you with attacks like LEGITIMATE FORCE and ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY and ROYAL DOMAIN. This, to me, is Sphene's role: she complicates and questions the themes we've developed in the first half. Most importantly to me, she makes us ask: what is devotion to a people or culture even worth?

There's a thing I kept thinking of constantly during Dawntrail, not because I think it directly influenced the game in any way but because the parallels were so stark and startling. It's Jonathan Hickman's New Avengers #18 (2014). Truthfully, I'm not a big comics guy; I only know this sequence because Ta-Nehisi Coates cited it as inspiration for his Black Panther run on Twitter once (I also didn't read TNC's run, I was following him for politics talk). Forgive me, comics people, if I get any details wrong. The parallels are almost comical, though. It goes like this:

A superhuman secret society formed of some of the smartest heroes (and villains) in the land re-forms to oppose an existential threat caused by incursions from other dimensions that threaten to cause literal collisions between Earth and its alternate dimension counterparts. Seeing no other alternatives, they undertake work on a weapon to destroy these other worlds. T'challa—king of a fictional hyperadvanced nation called Wakanda, and also the superhuman Black Panther—meets with his ghostly predecessors, the previous Black Panthers/kings, for he fears the moral stain on his soul and the souls of the people of Wakanda, if they survive explicitly by killing their alternate counterparts, will be too heavy to bear. His ancestors are not impressed.

To them, there is no question at all. A king's duty may be complex in the execution, but it is simple in its conception. Your people come before all others. Always. This is, must be, the fundamental ethic of a good king. To do otherwise would be a betrayal of the social order on which this imagined good monarchy is built. In a situation like this, the only option is to do what you must to protect them. "Will there be a cost? Yes. Might the universe burn? Let it. . . . You will kill them all if it means Wakanda stands. The golden city must never fall."

"I will do what I must" is Sphene's guiding principle. It is so important to her that when she recognizes that her sentimental attachments are making her waver in her duty, she severs them entirely, sacrificing her whole identity to the throne. It is also implicitly Wuk Lamat's position: she has no choice but to fight Sphene because to do otherwise would be to fail to protect her people. In fact, it's briefly even sort of the Warrior of Light's position, as when you tell Sphene before her trial that you understand what you must do, which is shut her down to protect others.

(One quick thought about the Warrior of Light: one cool thing about the antagonist this time being a double in a more exact way than Emet or Zenos is that it means other characters get a chance to relate to her differently than Wuk Lamat. The Warrior of Light, for example, is pressed into her service immediately upon your first meeting as the Queen's Champion, there to defend her if need be against all evil. This role is further affirmed by both robot Otis and Endless Otis, who essentially hand off their role as her knight to you, and reinforced when you flash back to the "might I call upon your aid" moment right before the end. Except, of course, you are loyal not just to her, but to the principles she represents, which her own acts betray, and so your ultimate act of aid is to essentially pass judgment on her and execute her. In a sense, you become the internal safeguard that a political system is supposed to have to protect against this very issue, and which Alexandria explicitly lost when it cast out/forgot Otis. Very Voeburt/ShB tank quests, it owns.)

But really, it's Sphene who embodies this sort of grim logic best. Aside from her transformation into the Queen Eternal, it's also why she suggests you simply become Alexandrians. It's the only way for her to reconcile her values and worldview, which have backed her into a corner where preserving Alexandria has come to mean a maximalist declaration of war on all life outside its borders because the kind of absolutely pain-free life she envisions for her citizens is completely unsustainable.

In this reading, one of Sphene's main beats is to unsettle what has preceded her in MSQ. In nearly all respects, she shares your values. She prizes life, is curious about other cultures, believes in the greatest good for the greatest possible number. But she is also a queen, and therefore irrevocably (in her eyes) tied to her state. Gulool Ja Ja and Wuk Lamat (and Koana) are the mythical wise rulers, thank god--but what if Wuk had inherited a Turali state that wasn't desperately in need of cross-cultural understanding, but one in a state of war? What value would her deep love for the people of Tural have held then? Sphene says, it would have held no value. If the survival of your people means harming the innocent, you harm the innocent. Kingship allows for no alternatives.

But she also concedes, in the very next breath, that she is still kind of wrong. Because what happened here was not inevitable, despite her programming (a brief note: to me Sphene being programmed is exactly the same as Emet being maybe-tempered, it's a fantasy gloss on the idea of social and cultural education. "I was programmed for this" is really no different from "I was trained and educated for this"), because the truth is that this kind of thoughtful, principled devotion to the state and its people is also a form of sentimental attachment, in the end. One that is maintained not because it is natural, and necessary, but because the monarch, too, likes it, and gets something from it.

In so many ways, in so many senses, the monarch is the state. Kings and queens may fancy themselves merely a reflection of their people's needs and desires, but of course even a cursory glance at history will tell you that far more often, states reflect their rulers. Sphene and Wuk Lamat both suggest that their conflict was inevitable, but was it? Or is the truth, as Sphene glancingly acknowledges here, that she turned her own fears and desires into the same policy goals that led to this tragedy? And if so...what does that say of our Good Queen, Wuk Lamat? Perhaps this could be different if they met earlier, says Wuk Lamat. But when? When did Wuk Lamat ever not love her people so dearly that she would not have sacrificed herself for them, or caused mass death for the sake of their survival? When did Sphene not believe the Endless to be people, or the preservation of Alexandria to be the most important thing? Maybe she means "had we met before you met Zoraal Ja," but of course, we the player actually saw their meeting. And we know that Sphene even then was not the hapless naif she'd like to pretend. She always knew exactly what she was doing.

We know the price of this kind of thinking, this Hobbesian view that states are engaged in a struggle of all against all. Living Memory lets you walk through it. To preserve Tural, we exterminate the Endless. We befriend them, learn about their lives, promise to remember them, and then we destroy them and their homes, leaving nothing but a bleak blank landscape and the sound of wind. This is what Sphene would have done to Tural and Eorzea. Indeed, it's what she's already doing to the people of Yyasulani, because no amount of well-intentioned aid can make up for trapping people under the dome for 30 years and systematically eroding their culture through the resonators.

To me, this is what makes Sphene really work, that way she has of forcing Wuk Lamat and the player to commit the same kinds of sins she has. We'd like to think ourselves better than her, but of course, we've already reconciled with and integrated Mamook's brutal eugenicist regime back into Turali society well before we ever met Sphene. At the end of our long "wow isn't having a wise queen cool???" expansion, we are met with "Legitimate Force" and "Absolute Authority" and see them for what they truly are: nothing but tools of violence. No longer does the idea of the Warrior of Light hanging around Tural as Wuk Lamat's advisor have the same attraction, now that we have been reminded of the way the putatively unquestionable logic of kingship can ultimately lock even the wisest and kindest rulers into a path of war and exploitation and destruction.

I think Sphene is FFXIV's most interesting and nuanced depiction yet of a leader. She really, truly, wants nothing more than to save her people and protect them from pain. But even seemingly loving and compassionate goals like these can readily lead us down dark paths. She's a "hard men make hard choices"-type character, a noble but misguided opponent, but as a loving and elegant fairy queen instead of a grizzled knight or extremely sad man. She fucking rocks.

[garfunklefield]

toji make me a single mommy pllleaaaseeeeeee!!!

Play Time (Drabble)

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/Toji Fushiguro Warnings: this isn't coherent i just wanna ramble about how big of a breeding kink toji has Word count: 537 DESC: uhhhh yeh!

I'm posting a lot today whoops.

ALL EYES ON RAFAH

Toji never wanted children, but he wanted you pregnant. He wanted you swollen and he wanted you full of his seed. It was weird. He had never had the desire to fuck someone raw until he saw your pussy for the first time, and he threw the condom away. Every time he fucks you, he imagines you filled up to the point where you’re choking, cum spilling from your lips. It’s weird, it was always weird to him, so he never said anything. 

His cock came, spouting ropes of cum into your walls. But, he was hungry for more. Zenin had done just about every position at this point, yet he was still looking for something new. He’d never get tired of your tight fluttering cunt. He’d never get tired of the way you clenched around his log of a cock. And he’d never get tired of how you begged to be a mommy. 

You both wanted it, and you both wanted it in several positions. Cowgirl, reverse, front ways, back ways, sideways. All the ways! He tried to implement self-control around you, but it didn’t work. Every steamy make-out session turned into fucking his seed back into your battered pussy, again and again, and again. You could take it, his tongue sliding into your mouth as his hips collided with yours. You could take his strength and his semen. 

And you were a tease. You liked getting Toji all riled up, to the point where he’d beg to put a baby in you. It wasn’t regular begging, but it was as good as you’d get from him. 

“Please princess,” he’d rasp, hands fondling your ass, “Just once… once- one time, then that’ll be it for today.” But you knew him, you knew how long he could last for. And you knew how long you’d go for with your lover. Multiple rounds and multiple hours of pure overstimulated bliss, until you were crying and squirting and shaking. It was so good, how he’d fuck you raw. His cock would slide up and down your gummy and spongey walls, tickling your g-spot until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You always let him get what he wanted, fucking you until you were pregnant. But even then he wouldn’t stop. The moment you got pregnant he was hard and fucking you over the bathroom counter, talking about how good you’d be as a mommy. “Good little mommy,” he cooed in your ear, “You’ll be.. You’ll be such a pretty mommy, f-fuck.. Pretty little mommy.” It was enough to make you cum then and there. 

And when you were six months pregnant your sex just got more passionate. He was as rough as ever, but seemingly more turned on than he had ever been before. His cock throbbed harder, his thrusts were faster, and he came a lot quicker. You weren’t complaining, especially when he moaned about his plans for the future. 

“I wanna fuck seven kids in you, baby. Make you full… full for me.. Mm-fuck..” 

Well, you knew it was just a heat-of-the-moment thing, so you didn’t think he was serious. Not until Toji came to you with a list of six names after your first child was born.

[cloudcountry]

sit on my lap & do my eyeliner

Genre/Tropes: SIT ON MY LAP AND DO MY EYELINER!!!!!!!!!!!! That's it.

Summary: Ruggie Bucchi sits on your lap and fixes your eyeliner before your second year orientation ceremony.

Author's Comments: Based on home screen dialogue because uhhhh I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately!!! (It's his ceremonial robes, he mentions doing makeup as a side job and I was like oh?) Also Leona finally graduated!!! Everyone say yaaay!!

~~~~~

You never thought you’d find yourself wearing the ceremonial robes that you’d met everyone else in. You never thought you would have ended up staying another year at Night Raven College, but Crowley had yet to find a way to send you home so you were stuck. In these robes.

You’d always thought they were pretty. Wearing them now, however, you finally felt the weight that Ace often complained about. Deuce had helped you with the belt as Ace whined in the background, his hands working quickly so as not to lose time. At least you three had wrestled Grim into his first, since he was definitely the more problematic of you two when it came to wearing required garments. If they hadn’t come early to help you, you two would have ended up late, and Riddle would have had your heads.

You thanked the two profusely for their help, though Ace did nothing. He stuck his tongue out when you tacked that onto the end of his thank you, whining about how that was unnecessary. (He was cute, but it was very necessary.)

You knew Ace and Deuce were feeling the loss of their upperclassmen, Trey and Cater. Ace kept grumbling something about Riddle being even more insufferable now that he was a Junior, but you disagreed. Riddle had shown immense amounts of growth (not the height kind, you thought to yourself, but that would probably never change) during your stay here, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him for it. They’d all come so far from last year, and they’d all done more than enough to make you feel welcomed at NRC, maybe even enough for you to consider it your second home. In a moment of emotion, you felt a tear well up in your eye. Clenching your eyes shut so as to not worry your three companions, you started your walk to the ceremony hall. It seemed like only yesterday you were in the library, being lectured by Crowley about the rules of this school and the conditions under which you’d stay here. 

Hopefully there wouldn’t be any overblots this year.

“Perfect, look! It’s the Savanaclaw guys.” Ace hissed, mouth twisted up in a frown. He must have still been bitter about the loss in the Spelldrive Tournament.

“Hello, Prefect.” Jack greeted, nodding his head.

Ruggie chuckled beside him, his eyes shining with mischief. “Now now, Prefect. Your eyeliner is messed up! Were you crying?”

“Hey, don’t start. The Perfect has been away from their family for an entire school year. You don’t need to mock them.” Deuce said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah! What Juice said.” Ace huffed, Grim nodding adamantly beside him.

“Don’t call me that! You still can’t get my name right?! It’s been a year!” Deuce yelled.

“Oh relax, I’m only teasing.” Ruggie ignored them and addressed you, “I can fix that for you. I used to do it as a part time job. You guys can go on ahead. Jack, take the froshes to the ceremonial hall.”

“Got it.” Jack nodded, ushering the freshmen down the hall.

“We’re staying with the Prefect!” Ace insisted.

“Yeah! You’re not pulling a fast one on me, weirdo!” Grim yelled, pushing himself up against your leg.

“Guys, it’s okay. You wouldn’t want to make Riddle mad.” you smiled at your friends, patting Grim on the head., “I wouldn’t want you to miss anything.”

“Prefect…” Deuce sighed but nodded, lifting Grim into his arms, “Hurry, okay?”

“He’ll be quick.” you assured them, trying to ignore the snort that escaped Ruggie at that.

“Last one there’s a rotten egg!” Ace cackled, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Go before Riddle collars you!” you yelled back as he laughed.

With your three friends following behind Savanaclaw, you turned back to Savanaclaw’s new Housewarden. He dug through his robes and produced eyeliner from somewhere in the folds, waving it in front of your face.

“Thank you for offering to fix my makeup. I didn’t trust Ace and Deuce with it and they certainly didn’t want to put their fingers near my eye. Said it was scary.” you shook your head.

“It’s a pleasure. You owe me a grilled cheese after this.” Ruggie laughed, “Come here, sit down on that bench over there.”

You followed his directions and sat down, placing your hands in your lap as you looked up at him.

“Now now…” he clicked his tongue, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “Make some room for me, Prefect! Put your hands on the bench.”

“What do you mean?” you blinked, pulling your hands on the cold bench seat.

“Better.” Ruggie mused, sitting onto your thighs and opening the eyeliner in one fluid motion.

You yelped, eyes wide. Ruggie laughed as he cupped your face gently, tilting your head to get a better angle.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” his eyes were gleaming again, the mischievous smirk from before returning, “I can do your eyeliner better like this.”

You placed your hands on his hips, trying not to flinch as he brought the eyeliner to your eyelid. Ruggie faltered at the sudden contract, but quickly got over it and made himself comfortable.

“Of course. I’ll try to be still.” you hummed, letting him get to work on your face.

Ruggie was only doing some quick touch ups, styling your eyeliner with expert precision. You could tell he wasn’t lying when he said he knew how to do this- you’d have to ask him to do your makeup again sometime.

“There.” Ruggie pulled away, still cupping your face gently, “That’s good.”

He dug through the folds of his robes again and pulled out a compact mirror, flicking it open and turning it to face you. You marveled at his work, tilting your head this way and that.

“You did so well, Ruggie! Thank you so much.” you beamed.

“Of course, of course. Now you owe me a grilled cheese! Don’t forget about that!” he hopped off your lap, the comforting weight of him vanishing as the space filled with cold air.

You furrowed your brow at the loss, embarrassed that you’d wanted him to stay like that. To make up for it, you offered him your hand. His ears twitched as he glanced from your hand to your face, another smirk spreading across his lips.

“Don’t worry, I’ve never cheated you out of a deal before.” you said.

“Now you want to hold my hand, too? That’ll cost you double.” he teased, taking your hand immediately.

“Hey, you got to sit in my lap. It’s only fair.” you shot back, squeezing his hand as you tugged him along.

“Hmm…I guess you’re right.” he snickered, suddenly pulling ahead of you and taking off down the hallway.

“Ruggie!” you shrieked, rushing to catch up to his speed, “You’re going to mess up our robes!”

“Then I’ll just fix those for you too!” he looked back at you and winked.

[arliedraws]

CHAOS TIME. Sirius lives, it's post-war.....how do Sirry get together? 👀

Ooohhhhh. OKAY.

Scenario 1:

Harry breaks up with Ginny (maybe it’s a big thing, maybe they break off their engagement—maybe they grew apart or something, idk). Harry is devastated and Sirius offers him a place to stay at his house. Maybe they’ve never actually lived together so Sirius is unsure if he ought to be nurturing Harry or treating him like an adult. Their relationship is also healing from the disaster that was OotP so they’re still a bit awkward around each other. Anyway, Harry wakes up one night and finds Sirius in rough shape after a bad night with Moony. While Harry insists on bringing him to St. Mungo’s, Sirius shrugs it off, says it’ll be fine, and if Harry’s so concerned, he should help him. So idk Harry helps him strip out of his bloody clothes and starts—uhhhh—treating his wounds, trying to ignore the fact that he’s touching Sirius in a way that they don’t usually. They hardly hug! Rubbing balms and stuff on a very fit man who is groaning in pain? Done for.

Scenario 2:

Sirius is not one to tell Harry what to do, but Harry’s recruitment into the Auror office rankles him. Kingsley tries to convince Sirius that they’re working on reform in the DMLE, yet Sirius isn’t convinced it’s the right move for Harry to join a fairly corrupt organization. One night when Harry is visiting him with Ron and Hermione, and maybe a few drinks in, Sirius can’t help himself from telling Harry that it’s a big mistake. Harry gets pissed off. Sirius tells him he’s risking his life for a job that’ll stab him in the back or force him to compromise on his values, and Harry throws back that at least he’s actually doing something (as opposed to Sirius who is slowly, quietly healing from his traumas). All of a sudden, they’re dredging up old hurts, and Harry hasn’t felt this angry at Sirius since he learned he was innocent. Finally, Harry snaps at Ron and Hermione that they’re leaving, but Sirius tells Harry that they’re not finished. Ron and Hermione go, but Sirius and Harry are still arguing—Harry accuses Sirius of being childish and Sirius claims that Harry is completely obtuse. Anyway, Harry tries to leave but Sirius refuses to let him go. Uhhhh Harry shoves him into the wall or something and is about to tell him off when he realizes Sirius is looking at him strangely…as if…

Scenario 3:

Sirius has retreated from the magical world and feels more comfortable amongst Muggles who don’t know him or question his innocence. He becomes a mechanic, and within a few years, he opens his own shop where he can fix stuff and chat with people who are impressed with this oddly posh, incredibly honest mechanic. Harry, meanwhile, has become disillusioned with his career as an Auror and is a bit depressed; he no longer lives with the same purpose he had before Voldemort was defeated. He doesn’t know how to just be…a person. So Sirius teaches him about fixing things. It turns out that Sirius is a very good teacher, and Harry finds himself going to the shop over and over and over again, letting Sirius guide his hand as he like, drills something, idk. Anyway, this is a very sexy environment, and Sirius is very nurturing, and Harry feels safe and satisfied as he’s gently told what to do. He doesn’t have to think, all he has to do is listen to Sirius…

Scenario 4:

Speaking of teaching… because you know…

Harry is just beginning to teach at Hogwarts. He’s twenty-four, he’s left the Auror department, and he’s looking for something that feels worthwhile. Sirius has been teaching Transfiguration since McGonagall became headmistress, so he’s thrilled when Harry comes to Hogwarts. Harry is enjoying teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts but he notices that he’s getting a bit of attention—that kind of attention—from students. When he confides in Sirius, he shows him a note that was passing between a few fifth year girls. Sirius finds it very funny and reads the note which includes a litany of Harry’s physical attributes. But somehow, the words coming out of Sirius’s mouth hit…different… When Sirius squeezes his chin, teasing him about his “sparkling, green-grass eyes”, Harry realizes that…oh no… And Sirius immediately understands and grins, and continues to tease Harry for things that are definitely not in the note…

[neo404]

Can you write about reader having their first kiss with nick and it’s kind of awkward but really fluffyyy?? <3

First kiss.

Summary: Bf Nick asks you why you haven’t kissed yet and you confess that you have never kissed anyone, Nick will fix that.

Tw: Cursing.

"So, I rented Willy Wonka, Ghostbuster and... what the fuck is this? uhhhh, and Mamma mia. What do you wanna watch?" I smile looking at my phone then at Nick who was sitting on my bed wearing his pajamas.

"How come you haven’t kissed me yet?" He says like I didn't ask him anything. I feel the blush rush to my cheeks and I almost drop my phone to the ground.

"W-what?"

"How come you haven’t kissed me yet? you have me on your bed, wearing your shirt and you haven’t kissed me yet. Do you not like me or...?"

"NO, don't say that. I like you a lot... shit, this is well, embarrassing. I have never ever kissed someone." I say, my voice getting quieter with each word.

"WHAT?! Bullshit, I don't believe you." His sits up.

"I haven’t!"

"How? No one has ever tried to kiss you?" I shrug my shoulders. "I can’t believe your handsome face hasn’t been kissed."

"Well, if you put it that way I-..." my cheeks are red and I stutter.

"Shut up, come sit with me. We are gonna kiss."

"But I don’t know how to, what if I do it wrong?" I feel Nicks hand grab my arm and pull me into the bed besides him.

"Because you haven’t done it. I will teach you; you'll like it." My breath is uneven, I feel his hands guide mine into his chest. "Don’t be shy, wrap your arms around my neck." I do, slowly moving my arms up to his shoulders and around his neck. One hand of his go to my face, grabbing my cheek softly and the other goes to my waist, pulling me closer. "So, close your eyes. Tilt your head slightly, and enjoy."

"Shit. wait." I hide my face on his neck and I feel his chest vibrate when he laughs.

"It's okay. It will be fine." After taking a few deep breaths I pull my head up and nod at him. "Okay. Close your eyes, don't forget to tilt your head a bit." I do, I close my eyes and move my head to the left. I feel his thumb rub my cheek, then his lips gently touching mine. I feel my heart beating faster, I press my body against his, his lips start moving against mine and I push away in panic.

"Sorry. Oh god, I’m sorry." I put both of my hands over my face. "You didn’t tell me what to do when you..." I feel Nicks hand pulling down my hands. I see him smile proudly at me.

"Hey, it’s okay. Just move your lips a bit." He whispers while leaning in to kiss me again, I close my eyes and kiss him, his lips moving slowly, I try my best to move mine too, until I feel his tongue trying to enter my mouth I push away again.

"Sorry. Jesus." I feel my face burning. My hands are gripping his shoulders I kiss him again, this time when he pushes his tongue in, I don’t panic as much. The kiss is messy, to say a word. My hand goes to his hair and even when I feel shy, I want more.

I feel like I need air, but I don’t want to stop. Now that I know how it feels I need more of it, but Nick pushes my hips softly and I back out.

"God, you really are greedy." He smiles and kisses my cheek, our breaths uneven. "See, you did great. That’s a good first kiss."

"I want to practice more." I eagerly smile at him.

"Oh god, I created an addict. I don’t mind, I loved it. Come here, kiss me." Nick pulls me into him again, the movies long forgotten.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

scott street - d. wagner

a/n: i am feeling super normal about my relationship with my dad! and i just need a little comfort right now. reminder that you aren't your parents, and step parents can be either your actual parent or the worst in the world! i would know. warnings: big angst, huge. reader and danny sneak off to fuck, and then again at the end of the fic, domestic abuse, divorced parents, step parents, neglect and trauma, cursing, uhhhh yknow. daddy issues, but i hate that term bc of tiktok, enjoy ! word count: 3.1k summary: he's your danny, even while putting the pieces back together. paring: danny wagner x fiance!gn!reader now playing: scott street - phoebe bridgers "do you feel ashamed/when you hear my name?"

It happened before your mom got remarried. You were back from school on summer vacation, after your stepdad helped you move out for the summer. It had been the end of your freshman year.

For weeks, you tried to convince your dad to help move you out, begging him to be somewhat active in your life. He hadn’t seen you since winter break, and that was only because you had to go over to his house. Because your brother begged you to give him a shot. But this time, he refused to help you move out. You don’t go to college that far from home, but he tells you he wants to save himself the trip if you’re just going to be home a few days later.

You don’t even have to ask your stepdad. He offers.

And this is what makes it not a big deal when he buys a car decal from your campus bookstore. It has your school’s logo, and says the name of your school, with ‘Dad’ next to it. You laugh and talk your whole trip home, and it doesn’t seem that deep. I mean, your dad has neglected you for years, treating you like a toy on a shelf, and you don’t even have to ask your stepdad if you can grab a snack for the trip home.

It’s just easier for you to be around him, and he really acts the way a father should. He isn’t even married to your mom yet, and you feel this great swell of love for this man, knowing that he’d be the one to be there without hesitation.

Your brother manages to convince you to go with him to get dinner with your dad a few days into your trip. In a few days, you’ll have people over. Your extended family, your brothers’ friends, and your friends from high school.

Well, your friend. Sam can’t make it; he’s having a root canal done.

But Danny will be there. Your Danny. Being in college hadn’t been enough to push aside your crush on your best friend. You suspected the summer would probably make that even more difficult. But you hadn’t seen him in a few months, and you missed him desperately. You focus on him to get you through the dinner from hell.

Your dad picks you up from your moms, your stepdad not yet home. You sit awkwardly in the front seat, anxious for a reason you can’t quite put a finger on.

But really, dinner goes sort of well. You push through the awkwardness of it all, and it’s not that bad.

Until he pulls into your driveway to drop you off. He sees the sticker on your stepdad’s car and starts screaming at you.

You scoff, telling him you find it rich that he’s making comments about your mom’s boyfriend when he let his wife absolutely torment you and your brother for years.

Before you can blink, he grabs you by the hair and smashes your face against the dashboard. He’s still screaming at you when you come to about ten seconds later. Your brother is screaming too, telling your dad to stop, and he’s pulling you out of the car. Blood runs down your face, staining a shirt you got from Danny. It makes you start to sob as you run into your house. You hear the slamming of car doors, and your brother follows you quickly, holding your bag and sweatshirt.

Your mom swears she’ll kill him, but you keep crying. You’re too sad to be angry. But you decide right then and there, you’re done with him.

When you go to the ER, they tell you that your nose is broken. They set it back into place and bandage it up, telling you to take it easy for a few days.

When you see Danny a few days later, he’s immediately concerned.

He holds your face gently, asking you what happened. You’re tired of explaining it to everyone.

“My dad. He banged my head into a dashboard a few days ago. Broke it.” You sighed. You see him tense.

“I’ll fucking kill him.”

“You’ll have to get in line.” You tell him. You take a sip of your beer. You move on from the subject quickly, asking how he’s been, what he’s been up to. He tells you that the band he had joined with the Kiszka’s is starting to pick up. You’re thrilled for him.

It’s hard to stay away from your attraction.

The night goes by smoothly, until there’s a knock on your front door. Your mom goes to answer it, and after a few minutes, she calls you over. Your dad stands there. He has a pile of papers in his hands.

“What do you want?” You ask, putting down your drink. He looks past you. Danny leans against the doorway to the hallway. You don’t ask him to leave.

“To give you these. I’m signing over my parental rights.” He tells you. It hurts more than the broken nose. You stay quiet. Inside you, you feel the ghost of your ten-year-old self screaming for her daddy, telling him to take it back. But you take the paper, and see he’s already signed and notarized them. “It’s been a long time coming.” You laugh, biting back tears.

“Fuck you. Get out of my fucking house, I don’t want you here.” You tell him, angry now. You want to yell, because he waited until three weeks before you turned eighteen to do this. It’s an extra punch to the gut.

“No more Christmases, no more birthdays, no more support, other than what’s mandated by the court.”

“Go to hell! You were never there for any of that shit!” You tell him. He just stares. “You broke my nose, if you care.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you, but I need to do what’s best for us.”

“Have a good fucking life.” You slam the door in his face. You ignore your mom’s gaze. You ignore Danny’s. You start to cry as you walk quickly through the house, dodging your family members. You make it outside to your backyard, where sobs rack your body. Someone says your name from behind you, and you know who it is.

You let Danny hug you, hold you, as you cry.  You cry for a long time, and he stays just like that, refusing to let you go. When you finally calm down, you’re laying your head on him when you ask him a question, and it breaks his heart into a million little pieces.

“Why doesn’t he want me?”

He just hushes you softly. But, you want an answer. You demand it of him, and he gives you one.

“Because he’s a fucking moron. You’re the best, you’re kind, and gorgeous, and fucking funny. You make me laugh constantly, and for so long you’re going to date men who remind you of him, because you’ll long for his love. But he doesn’t deserve your love. And what he does… That isn’t love. One day you are going to meet someone who never questions why you don’t talk to him, and they will be his exact opposite. You deserve that type of love.” He tells you.

You just look at him for a few minutes. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the pain.

You kiss him. It lasts a few moments, and he kisses back. Then he’s pulling away, mumbling no…

No?

“We can’t. You’re drunk, you’re upset. I won’t kiss you just because you’re sad. I’ll kiss you when the time is right and you’re happy. I’ll kiss you when I know we’re both ready and in love.” He tells you. You feel betrayed. You know, somewhere deep down, that he’s right. That you both deserve a first kiss that isn’t full of angst and drama.

But you’re angry. Angry at your dad. Angry at Danny. Angry at yourself. Angry at God, who you haven’t prayed to since you were nine. You pull away from him, wiping tears that remain on your face.

“I think you should go.” You say softly. He knows you don’t mean it. But he respects your wish.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He tells you. “Don’t be a stranger.”

He leaves, and for a second time that night, you’re crushed that a man has left you despite telling him to go.

It’s been five years since that day. You’ve graduated college, and you spend most of your days waiting for Danny to get home from the studio or from a tour.

He finally kissed you again when you graduated college, promising to never let you go ever again. Promising to never let any other shit for brains guy hurt you because you wanted to be loved. He promises to hold your hand while you put yourself back together. He never insists on doing it for you, but he always supports you.  

You’ve been in therapy for a long time, and most days, you don’t think about your dad. You have your mom and stepdad. But somedays, it hurts. And it doesn’t hurt you, it hurts that same ten-year old who lives inside you.

But you ignore it. You focus on your career, your life, your boyfriend.

And one day, a few months before your brother’s wedding, he asks you to marry him. You say yes. It seems so natural; you’ve only been dating for just under two years, but you’ve been in love for as long as you can remember.

You love being engaged. You love thinking about him as your future husband. For you, there are few questions about the wedding. You’ll get married in early fall, you’ll have your mom walk you down the aisle, you’ll have red velvet cake, and Josh will sing your first dance song as well as officiate.

All these things seem very natural to you.

They’re not as easily answered as your brother. When his fiancé got pregnant right before your engagement to Danny, he began questioning whether he’d have your dad there. You couldn’t say you didn’t understand it. There were times you considered reaching out. And with a kid on the way, you knew why he would want his dad in his life again.

It doesn’t stop you from booking an emergency session with your therapist when he tells you he’s coming to the wedding.

He won’t be part of the wedding party, and he’ll have no part in any speeches or traditions. He’ll just be there to support your brother and his wife. You’ll barely notice him; Danny reassures you of this time and time again.

The wedding went well. You focus on your brother and his wife, your sister-in-law. You’re so proud of him. Danny watches you the whole time. He thinks about how you’ll look at the alter of your own wedding, and he melts a little at the thought. Your engagement ring looks lovely with the flowers your sister-in-law picked out.

During the cocktail hour, in between the reception and the ceremony, he can barely keep his hands off you. He’s pulling you out of the crowd, kissing you against the walls, telling you how pretty you are. You don’t really think about your dad.

You sneak off with him, and he takes you into a nearby empty room. An employee from the venue almost walks in on the two of you. You can’t stop laughing. You tell him you love him again and again. There’s something about someone so close to you getting married that thrills you in preparation for your own wedding.

You sit with your mom, stepdad, and your sister in law’s immediate family. Danny holds your hand as your sister-in-law’s sister makes her maid of honor speech. You make a speech too, your brother dubbing you his best man, regardless of your gender. Your sister-in-law dances with her dad. Your brother dances with your mom.

Your stepdad asks to dance with you to Goodnight My Angel, by Billy Joel. You oblige. While dancing, you tearfully ask him to dance with you to it at your own wedding. He agrees, happily. The photographer takes a photo of you during the dance.

And that’s the last time during the night that you’re truly sober, and you spend the rest of your night dancing with your mom, and with your fiancé. You love calling him that. You slow dance to your favorite songs, and that night, you decide your first dance song will be a Loggins & Messina song.

You’re getting a drink at the bar when he finally says something to you. Your father. His first words to you are as follows:

“I saw you dancing with him. To that song.” You laugh spitefully.

“With Danny? Yeah, I’m gonna dance with him, he’s my—”

“No. With your stepfather. Why would you disrespect me like that?”

“You left. You abandoned me. You wanted nothing to do with me. You have no right to comment on my relationship with my stepdad.”

He stands up to face you.

“You were disrespectful. Rude. Horrible. Out of control, I couldn’t deal with you!” You glare.

“You’re so full of shit. He was always more of a dad to me than you were.” You can tell he’s ready to hit you, but you feel a hand on your arm from behind. Your head whips to see Danny. Your shoulders slump. You’re immediately calmer. Your other hand goes up to lay on his hand, where his thumb is gently rubbing your forearm. It’s then that your father sees your engagement ring. You go to say something, but he cuts you off.

“Engaged?” You realize he didn’t know.

“Yeah. You remember Danny.” Your fiancé says nothing.

“Of course, I do. You always were in love with him.” It almost makes you smile, the way your dad remembered your crush on him. But you just as quickly remember when he called you a slut for having two boyfriends in a year. You just as quickly remember him leaving you and your brother for hours, days, at home with your stepmom who refused to let you eat any food. You just as quickly remember the pain from the broken nose, and the worse pain of him showing up at your door to sign away his parental rights.

“Yeah. I always was.” You grab your drink and take Danny’s hand properly now. “Have a good night.” You tell him, and you lead Danny away from him, leaving your father at the bar, where he was always meant to end up.

Danny says your name, asking you softly, “Are you okay?” You let out a shaky breath, taking a sip of your drink. Tears brim your eyes.

“I love you, Danny.” You tell him weakly. He can tell that that’s a no. He guides you away from the party, this time to not make love with you, but to comfort you. Tears run down your face as you lean against the wall in the hallway, feeling the thump-thump of the music from the party. He frowns and wipes your tears, shaking his head. “I thought seeing him wouldn’t hurt anymore.” You say quietly.

Sometimes the child that yearns for your father slips out. You can’t keep them inside in this moment.

“I know, baby.” He says gently. “…Do you want to talk to him more after this? Invite him to the wedding?” He isn’t coercing you, isn’t forcing you to. He’s only laying out your options.

“No.” you tell him. “I don’t need him. I’ve got you. I’ve got mom. I have Mark, and my father be damned, I have a fucking dad. Not that asshole. I have a dad, and it isn’t him.” You tell him. Danny nods.

“You have grown into an amazing young adult. I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I am so proud of you. You’ve grown so much, and you’ve made yourself a damn good life.” He tells you.

“Damn good.” You confirm, your voice breaking.

“Damn good. You’re right. He’s not your dad. Dads don’t do the things he’s done to you. He might be your father, but he isn’t your dad. And it’s okay to miss him, but you have an amazing life without him. And we’re gonna get married. And we’re never going to make his mistakes. You are nothing like him. We’ll get hitched, and have sex every night, and we’ll die in our nineties after a long life of Rock n Roll, Sex, and love. We’ll dance to Loggins and Messina at your wedding, our kids will call Patrick ‘pop’ and he’ll never have a second of your life.” He tells you. You kiss him gently, unable to form the words to tell him how much that means to you. When he stops kissing you, just for a second, he tells you, “We’ll make a new home, with just the two of us. We’ll host holidays, and you’ll never cry on Christmas again.” He tells you.

His words heal something in you. He won’t let you be hurt by your father ever again. The war is over, and now you’ll try to heal, try to move on.

Danny wipes your tears and asks you to come dance with him. You oblige. You dance through the night and focus on your future.

And it’s just as your fiancé describes. You get married. You dance to ‘A Love Song’ by Loggins and Messina, sung by your officiant, Josh.

Sam is Danny’s best man, and your brother is your maid of honor.

You dance with your stepdad to that Billy Joel song.

On Christmases, Danny kisses you under the mistletoe and holds you close.

He’s nothing but romantic and good to you.

On Father’s Day, a particularly hard holiday for you, he brings you home a cake before you go out for dinner with your mom, stepdad, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew.

It’s white, and has small hearts all over it, and in red frosting, it reads, ‘You can’t choose your father, but you can choose your daddy.’ It makes you laugh, and you ruin your hair and ruffle your clothes making love before you leave for dinner.

That night before he goes to bed, he kisses you and tells you that he loves you. That he can’t wait to live the rest of his life with you.

It takes you a long time to fall asleep, thinking about your dad, your Danny, and your stepdad. You wonder if you’ll ever have the courage to have children, out of fear of fucking them up like your dad did with you. You wonder if Danny and you really will live a long, happy, sexually vast life. You realize he is your soulmate, and that he’ll always be your husband.

You decide you’ll be alright.

[eijirousbestie]

“Order when you’re ready.”

gym bros kiribaku

unexpected visit

smoothie king???

“lemme get uhhhh…” energy

this is by far my longest one shot sooo

* * *

“What do you think would happen if—”

“No.”

“…I didn’t even get to finish.”

“I’d rather you not honestly.”

“What? It’s not gonna be bad or anything.” You try to hold back a laugh at the sheer amount of annoyance you’ve given the man in less than thirty minutes of his workout.

He sets down the barbell he was benching and adds more weight to it. 25 pounds to be exact. He could really add 40 more but he didn’t want to seem like he was trying too hard in front of you.

“If any of your sentences start with ‘what if’ I know it’s gonna be something outrageous hun.” He shines you a pretty, lopsided smile. One that meant his words hold no harm.

“So you should be used to it. Anyways, like I was saying, what would you do if I slapped—holy shit are you benching 315 right now?” The last thing on your mind was your dumbass question.

Quite frankly, you’d already forgotten it after being so caught up in shamelessly ogling Kirishima’s tensed muscles as he benched. Amidst the intense staring, you hadn’t even noticed—nor counted—how many weights he’d actually been putting on. 315 pounds? There’s no way he could lift that much. He had to have been showing off. Yeah, that’s it.

The sharp clang of metal meeting metal brought your focus back to the redhead as he set the last weight on the bar. “Spot me?” Of course you’d happily agreed and made your way behind the bar as Kirishima made quick to re-tie his hair in a neat bun. He’d always looked so good with his hair up. Over the years, it’d grown long enough to tie back. But even having used box dye for years on end, his hair is beautifully kept. Shiny and soft, ends neatly trimmed and laid.

Making his way over to you, he leans his back against the cushion of the bench and plants his feet flat on the floor on either side of the seat for stability. He doesn’t grab the bar yet but he does gaze up at you, his face upside down from your view.

“I know it’s a lot of weight but if I start sputtering and flailing just let the bar crush me.”

“The hell? You know I could just slide the weights off right?”

“Mmh true but I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself trying to save me. Hypothetically.”

“That has to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Now you know how it feels to be on the other end of a dumb question huh?” You give him the blankest stare you can muster.

“Do you want me to spot you or not?”

“No wait please. I actually do need you to watch. Haven’t benched this much since high school.” High school?

“Kirishima what the actual fuck were you going through to be able to bench 315 in high school…”

“I was in situations.” Silence.

“—is that it or?”

“Yup. I’m legally bound to an NDA. Can’t say much else babe. Ready to start?” Your expression is a mix between ‘what the fuck’ and simply trying to shake the odd conversation.

“Yeah uhm. Go ahead I guess.” He grabs the excessively weighted bar and starts his reps. Up, down, up, down…up…up, down, up, down, down…

Wait, how many has he done already? You were too busy gawking at the sight before you. Tanned arms packed and loaded with muscles from regular training. Scars and faint freckles littering his biceps from hours in the field. A death-like grip on the barbell, veins practically on the verge of bursting with each upward push of the bar. His face contorted in concentration. Bottom lip slightly reddened from his teeth as he bit his lip with strain to lift the weight. Forehead sparkling in the gym lights, liquid evidence of his fortitude and strength. It left his white tank glued to him like a second skin. And that damn manbun.

“Lift.” You’re brought back from your thoughts at his call to end his set. Your hands wrap around the bar alongside his to raise and set it back in its place on the rack above his head. He lifts his back off of the cushion but stays seated, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“Holy shit that was heavier than I remembered. Did I slip on a wrong weight?” The corners of your mouth lift up in a small smile as you round the bench to stand in front of him.

“Even so, you could handle it. You did real good Ei. Barely had to help you.”

A shy smile graces his face. “Ah please. I was just trying to make sure I didn’t die in front of you.” Reaching down, he grabs a small towel near his right foot and starts to dab away the sweat from his face.

It’s almost crazy how he can be so modest after having lifted the weight of a small refrigerator with his own bare hands. And he’s still got the nerve to be reserved about it.

“Yeah right. Try tellin’ that to someone who hasn’t seen you lift before.” A rough voice comes from behind you, lowkey scaring the shit out of you. You turn your head around and of course it’s none other than the walking ray of sunshine himself.

“You mind alerting people of your presence before you just pop up outta nowhere?” You say.

“Sounds like a personal problem. You should fix that.” Katsuki strides up to you both clearly worn from his workout. He gives you a blank look. You shake your head in dismissal and turn back to Kirishima.

“Y’know, he’s right though. You could probably bench a car easy.” Kirishima’s eyes crinkle at the sides as he laughs at your comment.

“Nah, no way! This was seriously challenging guys, trust.”

Katsuki butts in. He raises a brow, lips set in a straight line.

“Not even a Fiat?” You let out a choked snort, trying not to laugh at his confidence in Kiri’s manpower. Said man raises from his seat, standing to his feet in front of you both. Kirishima chooses to ignore his last question, greeting his long time friend by dabbing him up.

“Didn’t know you were gonna be in the gym today man.” Katsuki shrugs nonchalantly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his grey shorts.

“Had some free time. Thought I’d come out and brush up on endurance.” His eyes flick from Kirishima to you. “How long you two been in?”

You pull out your phone to check the time. Kirishima puts a muscular arm around your shoulder and dips his head down a bit to look at your screen. The time reads 4:24 PM. “Just a little over three hours. Why?” You both look back up at Katsuki, awaiting his response.

“No reason. New smoothie shop down the street just opened. Wanna try it before they close.”

“No reason,” my ass. This was his nonchalant was of saying “If you guys are all wrapped up here I’d love it if you’d make my day and join me for post workout drinks.”

Kirishima is the first to respond. His eyes are all aglow and his eyebrows raise in recognition at the mention of the new spot.

“Ah, the one on Delview right? Near the old antiques shop? We should totally go! People have been saying it’s pretty good.” Katsuki gives a short nod and looks at you.

“You in?” He folds his arms across his broad chest, raising a blonde brow.

Kirishima tightens his hold on you and looks down at you. The beefy arm draped over your shoulders now squeezing you into his side. His eyes light up even more than thought possible. “C’mon hun, I’m wrapped up here anyway and if you are too we should go!” His gaze drifts back up to land on the man in front of him. “Plus, it’s been a while since the three of us got time to hang together.”

And that’s how you three ended up in Katsuki’s black Jeep Wrangler with the windows down and Kiri on aux. Or at least he tried to be. After two overly cheery pop songs off his playlist played back to back, Katsuki demanded a change of tune or he’d “Chuck the fuckin’ phone out the window and run over it.” Kiri settled for Yeat.

Pulling up to the drive-thru, Katsuki holds his foot on the brake, keeping the car still while he surveys the menu.

“It’s a fuck ton of shit on this menu. You two got any ideas what you want or what?” His eyes are still glued to the menu, squinting while trying to read the small print under the even smaller print. Kirishima leans over as he tries to read over Katsuki’s shoulder, his elbow digging into the car’s center console box.

“Hmm. Honestly I’ll take anything with coconut in it. Or watermelon. Oh! Or those little spiky fruits with the white insides.”

“Lychee?” You suggest.

“Yeah, those! They’re so good hun. Have you ever tried o—”

“Will you two chucklefucks just pick already? We’re holding up the damn line!” The blonde’s voice booms in the car.

You let out a short snort. “Chuckle-whats?”

“I swear to god I’m gonna drag you out of this fucking car if you don’t quit,” he threatens through clenched teeth.

Kirishima thinks out loud, ignoring your banter. “Ehh actually I think I’ll go with watermelon.”

“You better make up your mind Red or you ain’t gettin shit.”

“He ain’t gotta do a muthafuckin’ thing.” The blonde whips his head around to glare at you where you’re seated in the backseat.

“The hell did you just—”

“Welcome to Smoothie King. How may I help you?” The butchered voice of an employee rings through the order speaker making you all go silent. Katsuki grumbles something under his breath at you before turning to face the speaker.

“Gimme a sec here.” His right hand taps impatiently on the steering wheel. A crackle sounds from the speaker before the employee chimes in again.

“Sure. Order when you’re ready.” Katsuki looks back to Kirishima with a vicious glint in his eye.

“Hurry the fuck up Red or I’m ordering for you.” Kirishima’s teeth pull at his bottom lip before making a decision.

“Right. Uhh, I’ll take a medium smoothie. Half coconut, half watermelon and ask if they can drizzle some lychee syrup on top.” The look Katsuki gives Kirishima is so comically hilarious it takes everything in you not to lose your shit. He just sits there and stares at him. The left corner of his mouth is turned up and his eyebrows pinch in the middle to show an expression of “are you fucking serious right now?”

The silence is so loud it’s deafening. And poor Kirishima doesn’t seem to get it. He adds on a forgotten “Please?” as if that’s what Katsuki was making that face for.

“All that bullshit just to get all three fuckin’ flavors in the same goddamn drink,” he grumbles before looking at you in the rear view mirror. “C’mon shit stain. Order.”

“Bitch— y’know what, never mind.” Choosing to ignore the rude ass name he spit, you tell him your order and sit back in your seat and wait. He sticks his head out the window and finally places your orders then pulls up to the first window.

Handing the cashier his card, he waits for the receipt to print up, taking back his card and pulling to the second window. The server brings out the drinks and hands them carefully to the onry blonde before he then passes them to you and Kirishima.

You both chirp out a brief thanks to the man before happily sipping your drinks. Left hand on the wheel, Katsuki makes a smooth turn out of the drive-thru before taking a sip of his drink held in his right hand. “You two shitheads better be thankful I’m generous.” You glare at the back of his head in disbelief.

“Generous my ass—”

“Of course man! Super nice of you to treat us today. Next time it’s on me.” Katsuki side eyes Kirishima, a little thrown from his comment.

“‘Next time’? Hell no. There’s not gonna be a next time. You two idiots would lose your heads if they weren’t attached to your shoulders.”

“Aww c’mon man don’t be like that. We gotta hang out more. Right hun?” He turns around in his seat to smile at you in the back.

You chuckle and nod, tone sarcastic. “Of course I’d love to see more of my best friends.” You hear Katsuki grunt from the driver seat.

“M’not your best friend.” Kirishima turns back in his seat to face front, brow raising as he speaks.

“You act like you haven’t known them since middle school dude. That sounds like best friends to me.” You snicker and tap Kiri’s shoulder to give him a hi-five, the slap resonating in the car.

His knuckles turn white as he grips onto the steering wheel at his wits ends. “I’m gonna kill you both.” You all made plans to meet up again later that week.

[genericpuff]

I've been a bit of a salty spitoon over the recent events unfolding at NYCC so here's some GOOD news (sorta) >:00

I say (sorta) because I'm not a huge fan of mongie's work (or mongie herself) either, but DAMN if this lady doesn't know how to GET SHIT DONE-

Like GODDAMN is there a lot to show for here \(￣︶￣*\)

I don't know what the Let's Play After Dark or Omnibus works are, but it's really cool to see Linda Sejic's art here, I had NO idea what to expect when mongie announced she was going to NYCC and collaborating with Linda. I'm assuming Omnibus is likely a novelization or some kind of complimentary book to Let's Play because it has over 700 pages of stuff which is wild. Unless they just went and re-skinned the Volume 1 cover of Let's Play, I have no clue but it looks great. As for After Dark, yeah, again, no clue LMAO

Let's Play is returning in 2025, AND she's starting up a new series over on Manta (a publishing platform that's open to NSFW material which will definitely be better for mongie's work and will hopefully give WT a run for their money LOL) She hasn't stated yet where Let's Play's new home will be, but I'm assuming if it's not Manta, it might be a new independently-run site altogether, but again, we'll just have to wait and see. I remember her mentioning she wanted to do a fantasy series on her Patreon ages ago so it seems like she's finally getting the opportunity to do so. I have no idea what she's going to do with Let's Play after its S3 jump the shark finale LMAO

She's getting some merch made with BIOWORLD which is neat, though it'll be interesting to see how the quality comes out because the last creator I saw working with BIOWORLD was Smythe and the merch was uhhhh- not great. I posted about it on IG a while back but I don't know if I ever talked about it here so I'll def make that as a separate post for anyone who's curious.

But the BIG one - Let's Play is getting an anime, and it's from an actual animation studio which is a way bigger sign that it's a sure thing.

Again, I'm not a huge fan anymore of Let's Play or mongie in general, but I gotta give her credit where credit is due, she had WAY more to show for herself at NYCC than Rachel did, and the fact that she did all this after burning her bridges with WT, that's gotta sting for WT's and Rachel who still don't have anything to show for an animated TV show after four years. At this rate, there are gonna be more creators succeeding on a mass scale by choosing not to publish with Webtoons than those who did.

And who knows, maybe the anime adaption will tidy up all the problems original Let's Play had. It remains to be seen, but I think it's pretty neat to see mongie making such strides since she left the platform.

Something something, "I don't care if mongie wins, I just want Webtoons to lose" 😂

[blissfulip]

Dopamine

on AO3

Viktor x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, idiots in love (?) dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut, masturbation, angry sex, unprotected sex,

Cw: uhhhh smut

Words: 2.5k

[A/N: russian very kindly corrected by soln, ly<3, tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly(ish). (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao

Previous Next

Chapter 6: Big-headed? (NSFW)

The corridor leading to Heimerdinger's office was markedly narrower and longer than the others at The Academy, as though he was covertly attempting to thwart visitors. It didn’t stop you, however, and as you found out when you got there, it hadn’t stopped Viktor either. It made sense that, at one point in his life, long before you even met each other, these halls must have been a habitual destination. His close-knit relationship with the professor also showed itself confidently in the volume of his voice, a line that, despite your frustration with the situation, you’d never dare to cross.

You had every intention of staying put and waiting for him to come out, but the half-open door compromised your presence, and given that you were almost certainly there to make a fuss about the same issue, you decided to get it done and over with; after all, perchance Viktor's presence there could give your argument a compelling edge.

"Well, I’m glad you were able to join us at last, dear. I trust you are feeling better." Heimerdinger started.

“I’m okay; yes, thank you for the concern, professor. I should say I have a surmise that I am here for the same reason as him."

“Yes, I was trying to argue that our work styles do not meld well, and making us work together for any period of time greater than 5 minutes could be catastrophic; would you confirm as much?”

“Absolutely, I can do the work all on my own if that’s necessary; just don't make me work with him.”

“Interestingly enough, he has offered to do the same. Although I do commend both of you for your altruism, I must insist. This is what the Academy has decided.”

“Professor, if I may—"

“Enough delays, my boy; the decision is final. If I were you, I would get to it immediately; you have only a couple of hours to work.” You were swiftly rushed out the door by him, swept away by tiny, impatient footsteps and a heavy wooden door closing behind you.

Another door closed right on your faces when the sweet librarian denied you access on the pretense that your arguing had inconvenienced a whole two people the past couple of weeks, and you were now banned from using the premises at the same time. You had to compromise and go in by yourself to get the books you needed and then go all the way to the half-empty and uncomfortably cold cafeteria tables, where you worked tirelessly until you were yet again kicked out once the place closed. 

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

A couple infectious yawns and rubbed eyes later, you leaned back on the stiff plastic chair and stretched your back.

“What time is it?”

“Past 9.” Viktor answered after lazily turning around to try to make out what the clock read. You groaned loudly.

“We’ll need to move again—my dorm or yours?"

“Mine is probably cleaner.”

“Are you implying I’m messy?”

“No, I am affirming as much.”

“Rude.” You were offended, though only as a habit, because he was not entirely wrong.

“Oh no, have I offended you? Someone put me out of my misery!” He dramatized.

“I’d be first in line.” You said already standing up and walking in the direction of his dormitory.

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

“Not everything needs to be done your way, you know?"

In the wake of the cafeteria work stretch, you had found yourselves completely spent and depleted. With most of the work done and text written, you had taken some minutes to stretch and rest your eyes. Viktor had informed you as soon as you got there that it was imperative that you were as silent as possible, given the next-door neighbor's propensity to complain about noise.

You did your best to keep it down, of course, and granted, you had been doing a particularly good job. That is, until Viktor decided to wonder who between the two of you would be the one actually giving the speech with the material you had prepared. Although you did your best to ask him politely at first, his immediate negative response caused you to get defensive.

“I wrote most of the text; why can’t you just do me a favor once?

“It’s not a favor if you have to throw me under a train for it! You know I hate speaking in public, and genuinely, I’m dog-tired of you being so incorrigibly selfish.”

“I’m not selfish, how am I selfish?” You said almost forgetting you had to keep the volume down.

“You never think about any consequences, ever. You can go around saying you are a free spirit and spontaneous and fun as much as you like, but if truth be told, you are nothing but cataclysmic chaos!”

“I don’t make mistakes on purpose, Viktor; it happens; you just have zero empathy because you insist on making everyone believe you are the Academy’s perfect golden boy! You never make mistakes, and you never do anything wrong, right?. But I know all you really do is push people away because everyone is afraid of disappointing you! I don't know. If you were a little less hostile, maybe you’d have some friends."

“You mean friends like you? I’d rather staple my ears together than be friends with a jumbled  mess. He said, standing up from the chair, his nose flaring up as he inhaled a sharp breath and held his cane forcefully. “You are so excruciatingly intolerable, overwhelming, big-headed—”

“Big-headed?"

“That is what you take offense to?”

You couldn’t say anything beyond a dismissive shrug, and you knew your disregard for his opinion was what would sting the most anyway.

The silence was loud; it could be felt in the air between you, the irate flare of irritation in his gritted teeth, his ears colored in that familiar tone of blush, and his eyebrows uncomfortably knit together as he whisper-screamed at you. He took a couple steps forward, leaving you at no farther than a palm's distance. The sudden closeness somehow did not bother you; you could hear both of your breaths, heavy and panting from the strain of containing your screams, and you could tell by the heat you felt all over your head and stomach that your cheeks probably mirrored the flush on Viktor’s face.

In hindsight, you never really understood why you didn’t talk back to him after that last comment. You had so many things in mind you could have said, but an unknown force pulled your attention away from his amber eyes glowing with rage to his lips instead, which were a bloody cherry red from biting on them too much. You couldn’t look away, and Viktor quickly noticed.

Then his shoulders visibly lost tension.

"Ah…prydoruk,” he whispered, mostly to himself, and you wished you understood because it somehow felt like another insult. Perplexity became fright when the loud clang of his cane falling directed your eyes to the floor, but in an instant, both of his hands were holding your face firmly, and one of them slithered in between the locks of your hair.

You hated how fast your guard fell. His fingers, icy yet delicate, caressing the lines of your jaw, were enough to disarm you completely. You mouthed multiple offenses at him under your breath as you searched for his lips. You were agonizingly in need of each other’s taste. Your hands had a strong grip on his shirt, tugging at it unintentionally as your body, which desperately wanted that idiot, tried to gripe with your rationality. The war in Viktor’s mind was a similar one, but just as much as yours, his body was unable to pull back.

Eventually you needed to catch your breath from the kiss, beyond hungry, and when you pulled back just slightly, you looked at each other like two deer in headlights, frozen in place by a blend of contradicting emotions that prevented you from moving and still holding each other closely. Viktor moved first, and when he kissed you again, you could feel his hands move almost on their own, going against his orders to wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him. He felt his lungs grow hungry for air as his tongue buried itself deep inside your throat.

“Stop pulling," he tried to whisper in between kisses. You shushed him, bringing a finger up to his lips, and started leaving a trail of kisses along his jawbone. “If you tear my shirt, I—” He tried once again, but your lips got to his neck at the same time, and his sentence changed into a muffled groan.

“I won’t. Just shut up; don’t make me think too much about this; just sh—”

“So crass,” he said as he walked backwards to the bed, pulling you along with him. “You’re so unpleasant."

“You have history that says otherwise, asshat."

You already had a leg on the bed, fully intending to push him on it to straddle his lap, but he moved faster than you could think and shifted to hover above you. He crawled up slowly without ever stopping the deep kiss you were sharing and used one of his knees to push your legs apart, positioning himself between them. You tried not to react, but the feeling of his erection against you prompted a slight chuckle to come out of your throat. 

“If this is how you get when I’m unpleasant, I can’t imagine what could happen if I were nice to you.” you smirked. He sank his teeth against your skin in response, leaving a small bite mark on your collarbone before he whispered.

“You are not funny, Zaychik."

“You’re just humorless." You said this as you pulled his shirt over his head. This must have been the open invitation he was waiting for to introduce a hand under your dress, completely bunching it up to gain precious access to your bare chest.

Although the energy of the room had shifted noticeably, the pooling heat in between you never replaced the ravenous disposition. You still felt the frustration in him as he bit into you multiple times, leaving a wake of purple and red bruises you would have to explain the next day. You didn’t know if his motivations were guided by a fit of lust or if it was a way to punish you for all of the irritation you had caused him throughout the years of knowing each other; either way, it felt good, and you did not care to keep pondering.

His hand trickled down to your underwear in excruciatingly slow designs, one of his eyebrows raising in a self-congratulatory expression when he felt the dampness of the fabric.

“Pat yourself in the back; why don't you?” You said, rolling your eyes. He did not answer, and, to your astonishment, he did not take your underwear off. He took his hand back up, bringing the fingers wet with arousal into his mouth, pulled down the elastic of his sweatpants and underwear to reveal a cock you wished you hadn’t gasped at, and pulled your underwear to the side to position himself at your entrance, all without ever breaking eye contact.

Even though he was panting abnormally loud and you could tell he would probably soon burst into a cloud of smoke, he still nodded slightly at you, asking for confirmation, and when you nodded back, he impatiently tilted his hips as far as the position allowed it and his leg could withstand, plunging into you with hungry zeal. He didn’t start slow; he was incisive and deep with every thrust, making sure he was completely inside you with every move. Calculated bastard

You used both hands around his back to hold yourself steady, your not exactly manicured nails digging into the soft flesh of his shoulder blades as you did your best to not make any noises too loud. Down on the bed under him, you pondered the dim light in the room and the curious designs of the roof. They might as well have been figments of your imagination, swirls of light and haziness as your eyes filled with tears.

You confused the erratic rhythm of his hips for what you thought at first was the arrival of his unraveling and immediately realized was simply his leg tiring out, and you gathered enough momentum to push him off of you, his back now on the bed, and you were ready to ride him. Long overdue, you thought, you couldn’t let him get his way with you without having a mirriad of his whimpers to your name. Your pace wasn’t slow either; you drove him into you with the roll of your hips, making sure you could feel him in the right spots.

The look of enamoured trance on his face as you bounced on his lap was far from the vexed expression you were expecting, and the suppressed groans of pleasure touched something in you that made you suddenly bashful. You leaned over to nuzzle your face against the crook of his neck and pressed your lips against his when his grin was getting too wide for comfort. You devoured each other again for what felt like too little time before you could feel the overwhelming heat in your core preparing you for your climax.

You tried to tell Viktor you were about to come, but something in your face must have made that obvious, because he brought you close again by the back of your neck, your mouths nearly touching each other as he spoke.

“Say my name,” he murmured into your mouth.

“Yeah, right”

The hand on your neck slithered its way up to your hair, which he tugged at firmly.

“Say it; I know you’re close.”

“Fuck you.” You hissed, neither of you being able to contain a half-pleasure, half irritation, out-of-breath groan.

It didn’t take much longer before you felt the brief pain and sweet spasm that followed it, and Viktor revealed the feeling of your walls contracting around his cock. You took a second to compose yourself with your forehead pressed against his, and then gave him a devilish grin as you slid down to his lap. His eyes opened wide when you pressed the heat of his erection flat on your tongue, taking it in as far as you could manage.

His head shot back and his face contorted in pleasure, the hand that hadn’t left your hair oscillating between pulling at it harshly and gently caressing your head. You tasted him, salty, in your throat soon enough, and sat up after swallowing every drop of it. Viktor drew you back to him, and you laid there next to each other, avoiding eye contact, even though you were too high from your orgasms to feel any regret yet.

‘Yet’ came soon enough, though.

[foone]

So if Threshold happens to different Trek crews, who gets who pregnant? Voyager is one of the few shows where it makes heterosexual sense, (for lack of a better word, "sense" not being the word anyone would use to describe threshold)

So for Voyager, it being Paris (pilot) and Janeway (captain) makes sense through that lens. Paris, sure, because he is a pilot. We could pick a Science Guy to do it, but then it might be B'Elanna who does the flying fast, and then who is she going to kidnap for Lizard Sex? Harry? ... Yeah it'd be Harry. Anyway once you've picked Paris, you've got to figure out which woman is funniest to have him abduct into Lizardry. B'Elanna? No, not funny enough. She'd be a Klingon lizard and beat him up instead of mating, even if they did get married later. Besides, what if she evolves into a super-advanced Klingon, not a lizard? *claps* PUT TUVOK ON THE SHUTTLE. Kes? No, they already did a Tom v Neelix episode. Seven of Nine isn't on the show yet, so Janeway it is.

Ok so for other shows, we gotta pick a pilot or science guy (who might be screwing around with transwarp, and thus get Lizarded) and someone they could turn into a lizard to have babies with. The show is assuming heterosexual pairings here, but we know about things so we are not so limited.

The original series: as much as I'd love to say Sulu and Uhura ("I'll save you, fair maiden!" "sorry, neither"), I think TOS was much less of an ensemble than later Treks, so it'd need to be Spock. Spock is doing some science stuff, he gets hyper-evolved, and he picks someone else to hyper-evolve and turn into his lizard bride. As much as I want to say "Kirk", I think it's more likely that he runs off with Uhura and then Kirk has to rescue them. Kirk was always about being the one who rescues people, having the Enterprise come rescue Lizard!Spock (is that antisemitic?) and Lizard!Kirk and it's called commanded by McCoy? Nah.

TNG: the direct analogy to VOY would mean we have Wesley and... Picard? No, no, and no. Sorry. Frankly, we already had this plot on TNG (Genesis), and canonically the answer is Worf and Troi. The problem with it being a pilot thing is that Wesley is a child and Data (the official science guy) is an android, so he can't really be hyper-evolving. We could go with Geordi, the other Science Guy, but then we've got the image of a black man kidnapping a white woman. Uhhhh no. We already did that episode and it is an example of Deep Shame for the show. So Worf and Troi it is.

DS9: so this is what inspired me to make this post. We all agree Sisko would be a damn good father to his lizard babies, but would it be him? If so, with who? You could have it be Dax, and she lizards first and kidnaps him, which makes some sense given that she's a Science Guy. But you also have to consider Weird Guys. Every Trek series needs a Weird Guy so that whenever an ancient alien artifact turns the whole crew into Muppets or whatever, they can be the one who isn't affected and can thus solve it. This is all to say, Odo/Kira could be done. We've had a few episodes where he's been shown to do very extreme things out of his pining for her, so it makes some sense. Odo/Quark would be funnier but given how the DS9 writers handled Profit and Lace, I really don't want to see them do a gay mpreg episode.

ENT: the series with canon mpreg! Direct translation of would be Mayweather/Archer. Mmm. Probably not. I think it's gonna be a rarepair: Trip/Hoshi. Trip/T'Pol is too canon to be funny. The next best option is Archer/T'Pol and that's just kinda bleh. It makes sense but it's just the kind of thing they'd do and it'd be bland. We can do better. Honorary mention: Trip and Reed.

I've not watched enough of the New Treks to have an opinion there. Maybe SNW: Ortegas and La'an. Don't ask why.

[izel-scribbles]

uhhhh idk if requests are still open and if this has been done yet but: cowboy au? specifically cowboy john (human? or just pretending to be?) being a lil creepy and mysterious and arthur meeting/seeing him around for the first time?? i have thoughts™️ that may or may not turn into words some day but i'd love to see your take on this

i'll be posting some cowboy au soon, but in the meantime, you should definitely check out @percymawce-arts and @ananxiousgenz's "when the land was godless and free" cowboy au!! IT'S SO AWESOME IM BEING SERIOUS WHEN I SAY IT DRIVES ME INSANE