#this one turned angsty

[lorehappy83]

"Grant me your wrath, my dear. For I've become unworthy of your forgiveness"

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things

he hates people who walk slow, he hates people who chew loudly or people who talk loud in places they know damn well they shouldn’t.

he hates when people walk on the back of his shoe and he hates idiots like kaminari who talk during movies.

but most of all, katsuki bakugou hates seeing you cry.

it sparks something in him, something red, hot and so angry when he finds you in your dorm. tears running down your cheeks that show no sign of stopping. he hates it even more when you make eye contact and you curl into yourself even more from where you’re sitting on the floor.

katsuki immediately decides this is the thing he hates the most.

he’s on you in seconds, kneeling in front of you, searching around to get a peek of your face hidden in your knees. he places his hands on top of yours where they’re wrapped around your legs and his chest tightens when you flinch a little.

“ who was it ? who did this to you ?” he can’t recognize his own voice, his words come out so fast he barely registers what he’s saying.

you try to speak but nothing but more broken sobs and shaky breaths come out as you desperately try to catch your breath and katsuki realizes that you talking isn’t a priority right now.

his eyebrows are furrowed and he almost looks angry but he’s so, so worried. if anything, he’s angry at himself for being so helpless, for not being able to help you in a time where you clearly need it.

he grabs your shoulder softly and the weight his chest lightens slightly when you lean a little closer to him, before letting him pull you tightly into his arms

“breathe for me.” he utters softly, voice gruff and gravelly. he never actually talks this softly unless he’s around you, the difference is so stark it surprises him a little bit but he’s got more important things to think about. praise spills from him occasionally, muttering a “you got it. i got you” into your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.

katsuki’s never really had to comfort anyone, he’s never felt the need to, but you’re not just anyone. your different, you’re his. his love his everything and he’ll be damned if he didn’t try his hardest for you.

you’ve calmed down a little bit, he noticed. you’re breathings calmed down a little and your sobs have been reduced to snivels. the tightness in his lungs is still there, but it’s less now.

“what’s goin’ on with you, hm ?” you’re grip tightens on his arm and you shove your head deeper into his chest. he moves his head away from your shoulder so he can place two small kisses on the top of your head

“talk to me, baby. needa know what’s up with you.” he pleads into the crown of your head. you sigh before speaking up.

“ i don’t know what’s up with me i just- it’s nothing bad i’m—” you’re desperately searching for the right words to use so what you’re about to say makes sense. “i just don’t—feel like myself today. i don’t know why, i just feel really bad today.” you let out a humorless chuckle and your voice dies out when you finish “m’sorry if i worried you” you sniffle.

he shushes you, his grip on you tightens when he hears you whimper “don’t..don’t fuckin’ apologize to me, got no reason to.” he spits. he sounds angry, and he is, why should you ever feel the need to apologize for feeling some type of way around him ?

“s’okay for you to feel that way..i do too, sometimes, you know ?” he knows you do. he knows you do because there are times where he comes to your room in tears, shaking and panicked. completely and utterly lost from the nightmares that had plagued him minutes before but knowing he had to come see you. you were there for him every time, gently soothing him and assuring him that he’d be okay. he owed it to you to do the same for you.

“s’okay to feel like shit sometimes, happens to the best of us.” he whispers “ but you can always come to me when you do, can deal with it together. an’ don’t go thinkin’ yer ‘bothering’ me either.” he says, parroting what you had just told him. “we’re together for a reason, dummy.” he’s soft spoken and his voice is so mellow despite his harsh little nickname for you, you could’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting so close to you, it makes you a little dizzy and a little weaker in you’re already mushy knees.

he grabs your shoulders gently to get your eyes on him. they’re still a little glossy but they’re a little less dull when he looks at you “ we’re in this together, always have been, always will be, got it ? “ he asserts, waiting for your response. and then you smile at him, it’s faint but it’s there and katsuki feels like he can breathe again. he smiles back softly at you when you respond with a soft “okay.”

you suddenly grab onto him and pull him into you tightly, locking him in a tight embrace and squeezing like you’re pressing a lemon. it throws him off for a second before he’s squeezing you just as hard, pressing your body against his.

“thank you, katsuki. you’re the best” you hum. he presses a long lingering kiss to your temple as response, before squeezing around your waist “ course i am.” he gloats. the smirk on his lips grows when you snort in response “what’re you laughing about, hah? don’t think so? don’t think i’m the best ?” he jests, using this as an opportunity to tickle you mercilessly. you kick and squirm but it’s no use, katsuki doesn’t stop until you’re a heaving , giggling mess. tears in your eyes as you plead and beg for him to stop but he doesn’t let up even when you’re laying on the ground with him on top of you.

“ i ain’t hearing what i wanna hear, you know what i want from you, baby.” he chuckles at the way you desperately gasp for breath, choking on your own spit in the process.

“y-you’re the ! the best, ‘suki ! the b-bestest of the best !” you gasp out, pushing blindly at his face to get him away from you and he finally let’s you go. “felt nice enough to let you off with a warning, won’t end well for ya if you try me again.” is what he says, playfully warning you and waving his finger around in your face. you’re completely out of breath, there are tears in your eyes again but they’re happy tears this time and you still can’t stop smiling and giggling as you try to bite at his finger and katsuki is more than happy with this.

because katsuki’s favorite thing is your smile.

[elinordash]

Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy in PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (1995)

Can you tell me why Mr. Darcy keeps staring at me?

[hater-era]

Veeeeeeeeeery slight nsfw warning

what if I had been writing a vampire au foils to friends to lovers slow burn angst eR fic that throws the idealistic character (Enjolras) into the terrors of nihilism in the face of eternity while Grantaire resident nihilist struggles with the meaning of revolution because immortality makes all their sacrifices worthless? also it’s canon era to modern era

[haveihitanerve]

Bruce makes it in time to get to Jason. But… is it enough to save him?

“Master Bruce-“ “I’m almost there Alfred.” Bruce bites back, almost breaking his wrist by how hard he twists the motorcycle accelerator. And he is. He can see the warehouse. Bruce lands, not even bothering to slow, leaping off the bike as it crashes into the trees and he sprints for the doors, terrified he’ll make it too late, that he won’t be fast enough for his son. The door slams open, Bruce not even bothering to check if it’s locked or not, just plowing it down, and hurries inside, spotting his son within a moment. Jason opens his eyes in surprise, mouth curving to form a perfect O. “Br- Batman.” He whispers, voice hoarse with disbelief. Bruce rushes to his side, cupping his cheek, cradling the boy- his boy, to his chest. “Jay. Jay bird. Jaylad. Hey firecracker. Hey bud.” Jason’s eyes fill with tears and Bruce does his best to wipe them away, to press a kiss to his son's forehead. “You came.” Jason whispers, tears clogging his throat. “Of course baby.” Bruce murmurs, rocking back and forth. “Of course I came, baby. I will always come for you. Always.” He presses another kiss to Jason’s head. “I love you son. I love you, I love you, I love you.” “I love you too-“ Jason rasps, but his eyes catch something on the wall behind him. “Dad, wait- the bomb-“ the explosion shakes the very earth, and Gotham seems to curl in on herself, screaming with a pain and rage that is unimaginable. In a basement cave in the middle of Gotham, a butler's hands go cold. A man, wearing a blue mask a city over, suddenly feels a chill sweep over him, and something inside him, probably his heart, feels like it’s been torn in two.

Their bodies are found, or at least what’s left of them, two days later, the larger man wrapped almost completely around the smaller, cradling his boy to his chest. Nightwing almost beats Joker to death and is only stopped by three others, all of which seem just as inclined to kill him, but resist. Gotham mourns, earthquakes shaking the ground, warehouses crumbling to dust, and Joker is found drowned in the harbor, the fishes whisper of a presence so old and strong even the biggest fish feared her, and Aquaman shudders. Gothamites mourn their fallen Prince and his adopted son, but Gotham mourns her prodigal sons, her children, her oldest and youngest, and cradles the last survivor to her chest, cloaking him in shadows and gifting him all the things she did not give the others, the things she thought they wouldn’t need so long as they had each other, the things she had not yet granted them ready for. She drapes them over the young, jaded hero, gifting him sight and smell and sound, allowing him to control her shadows and her streets and most of all… gifting him flight, the way his namesake first claimed, the way her firstborn child and her youngest were never able to. The Vulture takes to the Gotham skyline like a moth to open flames, perhaps a little less withdrawn with his punches, perhaps a little more protective of young boys, but belonging to Gotham all the same. The Joker stole something from her, and she will never allow it to happen again. The Vulture gains followers, friends, the Starling, the Goldfinch, the Owl, the Crow, the Cardinal, and Robin, all under Gothams protection, and she has him watch, from his watery prison, as they protect her, defend their city from the ilk like him, not giving in to their rage and revenge, but helping, rebuilding Gotham in his image. Their image. The man who saw hope, and his son. Batman and Robin.

(In case it was unclear, the three people pulling dick away from Joker are Babs, Kate and Luke, and then the Vulture is dick, and his friends, in order as listed, are Stephanie, Duke, Babs, Cass, Tim, and Damian. Also Gotham does kill Joker because she knows dick cannot but she also keeps him half alive, suspended in time, destined to drown for all eternity and watch as the bats succeed in honor of Batman the man he fought against.)

[siffrin-gimmick-blog-number-37]

DAILY 7.5: HOMESICKNESS.

(Out of respect for a certain event, I'm intentionally going to miss daily doodles for a bit, so that means I'm posting this one today instead of tomorrow.)

[mossycobblestonewrites]

DC X DP PROMPT #17

Nasty Burger explosion happens. In order to not become Dan, Danny tries to do the opposite of what let to his dark reality. He locks away his ghost half and focuses solely on being human.

Vlad has guardianship over Danny and names him heir and successor to Dalv Co. This would be a semi-redemption for Vlad, he would care for Danny but be distant from him. Off of that, if Danny is the Ghost King, he would actually be the Crown Prince until his death with Vlad as his Regent. If Danny isn't GK then Vlad is is distant only emotionally. (Neither option affects the rest of the prompt.)

Danny is in his late 20s, or early 30s when Martha and Thomas Wayne are shot dead in front of their son. Danny relates to Bruce in a way, having lost all of his friends and family in a tragedy. Danny adopts young Bruce, raising him with Alfred (not shipped). Bruce lives mostly at Wayne Manner though Danny purchased a property near the estate to be closer (since he is still a businessman.) When Bruce starts showing signs of wanting revenge and heroism, Danny is there to guide him.

[seance]

I'M GONNA SEE MY MAN, 'TIL I GET SATISFIED / for @izzy-hands

[arty-tardigrade]

"I told you... They didn't care."

[hannie-dul-set]

reincarnation au where the three people you fell in love with in three separate lifetimes reincarnate back into the present, but the problem is......there is only one you......and they're the only ones who remember......(extra messy points: they become famous solely for the reason that you'd be able to find them again easily but boohoo! you don't fucking remember them!!!)

[pippytmi]

kacy au + a prompt from this list: "this is the first time I’m living on my own and my parents decided to spontaneously drop by in a few hours to see how I’m doing pls let me borrow some cleaning supplies and food so that my parents will believe I’m a functioning, responsible adult who totally cleans and doesn’t just have condiments and eggs in my fridge AU”

////////

“Hey! Hi, you’re—you're 8C, right?”

Kate nearly drops her bag at the sudden voice and its proximity, entirely unused to any kind of attention whatsoever. Embarrassingly, her first response is to reach for a gun that isn’t there, succeeding only in pulling out her keys as a makeshift weapon.

“Whoa,” the stranger before Kate says, raising both hands up. She looks vaguely familiar, dark eyes and curly hair and a short enough stature that Kate presumes she won’t be a real threat. “Is that a…key? No offense, but I don't think that would stab very well.” She squints up at Kate suddenly, almost like she’s trying to figure her out. “Please don't test that theory.”

Kate can only hurriedly lower said keys, feels her cheeks burn under the scrutiny. “Sorry,” she says. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

“It’s all good, I totally get it,” the stranger says cheerfully. “There’s not really a welcoming committee around these parts.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Kate asks slowly, cautiously on guard once more. She had first moved into this apartment two months ago, so it’s a little late for a welcome-to-the-neighborhood kind of thing.

“It could be,” the woman says, and she holds out her hand. “I’m Lucy. You might know me better as 12B, I’m the one always throwing empty bottles at the landlord’s head.”

Kate just stares back, accepting the handshake a beat later than socially acceptable. “I…didn’t know anyone did that, actually.”

“Oh it’s fine,” Lucy’s quick to reassure her. “He hasn’t found out it’s me.”

“Okay.” Kate is still very, very confused as to what Lucy of 12B (who throws water bottles at people) could possibly want. Or why she has decided to introduce herself in such a strange manner.

“Sorry to bug you," Lucy says, “but you’re kind of my last hope. I’ve been trying to find one friendly neighbor in this shithole, and so far, everyone has been shutting their doors in my face. You’re kind of on another level since you tried to shank me, but I am completely willing to forget that if you can let me borrow some stuff.”

“I didn’t try to…” Kate trails off as Lucy gazes up at her with such a hopeful expression that her resolve immediately weakens. “What kind of stuff?”

“Nothing major,” Lucy says. “Long story short, my parents decided to drop in on me, and I basically have nothing in my place. Any chance you can lend me some cleaning supplies? And maybe some groceries? I will one hundred percent pay you back. I just need them to think I’m an actual functioning human being.”

“I guess I can see what I have,” Kate says reluctantly, gripping her groceries a little tighter to her chest. “Come in, I’ll get you everything you need.”

This is probably a bad idea. Scratch that—it is definitely a bad idea, and Curtis will actually kill her for this, but Kate invites this literal stranger into her (government-assigned) home and leaves Lucy alone in order to briefly dash into her room and lock up the gun kept in the bottom of her purse.

Lucy, at the very least, stays firmly in the living room where Kate left her, though her eyes obviously wander around the room. “I like the color,” she says, gesturing to Kate’s couch. “Funky.”

Kate grimaces. “It was the only one they had,” she says of that neon-green monstrosity.

“Well, I think it’s really cool,” Lucy says. With Kate back, she seems emboldened, takes a turn about the room with a curious half-smile. “Your place seems smaller than mine. How much are you paying? Because if it’s the same as mine, I can totally get the landlord with a bottle for you.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Kate says. “Um, I think I should have everything you need in the kitchen.” She ushers Lucy right over, gestures to the fridge and says, “You can pick whatever you want for food. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from under the sink.” Still on edge, she crouches down to retrieve everything while watching Lucy out of the corner of her eye.

If Lucy can feel Kate staring, she doesn’t show it; she happily accepts the invitation to rummage through the fridge, clanking of bottles and rustling of bags audible. Finally, Kate focuses on the task at hand, and packs the basics into a plastic bag: bleach, window cleaner, Lysol.

“Okay, this might be more unbelievable than having nothing in my house,” Lucy suddenly declares. “Do you have anything good to eat?”

Kate lifts her head. “What?”

“This is all health food and green juice, 8C,” Lucy says. Pauses. “Oh fuck. I never asked for your name.”

Honestly, Kate forgot she hadn’t, either. “It’s—”

“I really hope you’re not a serial killer,” Lucy continues, as if Kate isn’t even in the room and she is just musing aloud. “That probably should’ve been my first question. Can we start over? Here. 8C, are you a serial killer?”

Kate blinks. “No,” she says. “But I also don’t think serial killers would tell you if they were.”

“Fair enough,” Lucy says, and peculiarly enough, she doesn’t seem threatened at all by the possibility. Obviously she is not afraid to be in unfamiliar situations with unfamiliar people, and Kate wonders if she should rethink her assumption that Lucy is not a threat. “So what’s your name, then?”

“...Kate.”

“Kate,” Lucy repeats. “Hm. It’s not what I was expecting, but it fits.” With that information, she just turns around and…continues going through Kate’s fridge. “Are you single?”

Kate coughs. “W-what?”

“Single people always have those sad frozen meals, at least,” Lucy says. “I do too, normally, but I haven’t hit the grocery store in a while.” She opens the freezer and actually whoops at the sight of Marie Callender's finest. “Jackpot! I will take these off your hands.”

“And your parents will…be fine with that?” Kate decides that, overall, she is utterly confused by Lucy the neighbor from 12B. There's no other possible way to put it.

“Oh not at all, but it is what they expect,” Lucy says. “I’ll take some of your health foods too, I guess. Let them think I’m trying to stop bad habits.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear with a self-conscious laugh. “I mean, only if that’s fine with you.”

And something about that moment where Lucy becomes a little awkward—when she bashfully looks down at her feet, then looks back up at Kate from underneath her long eyelashes—it endears Kate completely. At the very least, it makes her relax, stomach twisting in itself in a tell-tale weakness for pretty girls in trouble. “Sure,” she says. “Do your parents like wine? You can take a bottle, I have a few.”

“I would never turn down wine,” Lucy says, brightening. “I don’t even care that I don’t have wine glasses. We can drink out of paper cups for all I care.”

Kate opens the liquor cabinet to make her selection: a nice red that had been a gift from her mother. (She’ll just have to email her later and say she loved it when her mother asks.) “I would offer to lend you some, but I also don’t have wine glasses,” she finds herself saying, then immediately regrets it, because Lucy obviously expects an explanation and all Kate seems to be able to do is make a fool out of herself today.

“Are you also a connoisseur of paper cups? Kate from 8C, I think we’re going to be friends,” Lucy says easily, and Kate’s lips twitch from the effort of biting back a smile.

“I actually like to drink wine out of mason jars,” Kate says. “I know it’s a little weird…”

Lucy has absolutely no qualms about smiling, and her smile lights up her whole face in a way Kate can’t look away from. “I think that’s cute,” she says, and Kate’s face burns so hot she knows that her status as this building’s number one gay disaster is 100% secured.

“Here,” Kate barely remembers to blurt out, handing off the wine bottle. “And let me get you a bag for the food too.”

After everything has been successfully squared away, Lucy is left with three large bags that will definitely require more than one trip. “Thank you,” she says. “Seriously. You’ve saved my life and I promise I will replace everything I’ve stolen today.”

“It’s no problem,” Kate says. “Do you need help taking it to your place?”

Lucy feigns a double-take, mouth falling open in an exaggerated gasp. “Already trying to invite yourself over? Wow, 8C. At least buy a girl dinner first.”

Kate’s mouth inevitably twists into that damned smile anyway. “Is that not what the frozen meals are? Technically, I did buy them.”

“Touché,” Lucy says, biting her lip. “You are…surprising.” She snags the smaller of the bags which contains the cleaning supplies, then swings it over her shoulder. “Alright, you can walk me home. But no funny business.”

“Okay,” Kate says with a laugh, taking the last two bags herself.

“But,” Lucy says as they walk outside, “you officially have a rain check.”

“For dinner?” Despite the circumstances of Kate’s arrival here—despite the looming undercover op that is about to consume her life—she feels light. Hopeful, even.

Lucy throws a wink over her shoulder. “For the funny business,” she says, all but skipping in the direction of her apartment.

Kate, meanwhile, freezes in place. Nevermind about Lucy being a threat to her life—she’s just going to be a threat to Kate's sanity.

(Which…may or may not be a bad thing. It’s to be determined, at any rate). 

[kirsimys]

Saw some Mermaid!Buggy illustrations so wanted to jump on the bandwagon too 🤡🐠

[sukunasun]

could u please write some more mma!sukuna 🤲🏾

some rough in-between scenes. —

you get woken up when he returns home from a trip abroad.

in the dark and half asleep, you've gotten used to the way he moves around the house with muffled steps, how undeniably sukuna they are. heavy-handed when he shoves through the front door, a rolling luggage bag following after. tired and lethargic, he drags along, bounding up and down the hall in a pair of old house slippers.

he's sure to be quiet when he enters the bedroom. carefully stripping off what is no doubt his favourite sweater, the one he always wears on long flights, before tossing it into the hamper. there's the rustling of his pockets, taking out his passport and the clinking keychains, he sets them on the nightstand. there's some more thudding and thumping around but it's soothing, familiar enough to lull you back to sleep if not for the anticipation you feel, the excitement bubbling up when you know what comes next.

you feel his knees dip into the mattress. coming closer towards you like a practiced dance, he knows just where your form curls underneath the bundle made up of sheets, duvets and a warmth he's dying to bury himself in.

oh, you've been so patient waiting for his return. "hey stranger," you whisper, voice croaking out into the night. eyes peeking open lazily to see him hovering above you, his thighs caging you in. he's in need of a shower to wash off the jetlag but he can't be parted from you for a second longer, not when he's missed you this much, and judging by how you've been hugging onto his pillow, so have you. 

“missed me?” he smiles, your skin feeling the curve of it like a reward, his hands trailing over your figure. a sensitive spot here, a dimple there, moaning at the feel of his weight atop you, so comforting as he leans in to plant a kiss on your cheek. he'll savour this. go slow and steady, save up on the stamina so it'll last longer. maybe he'll get sappy and hold your hand through it.

...however that thought is thrown aside and abandoned the moment he makes a swift tug at the covers and notices you're not wearing any panties. revealing just two glorious thighs rubbing together with nothing in between but a hungry, greedy little hole waiting to be filled.

you see his expression turning into something dangerous, fighting back the urge to punish you here and now. his large hand leaves a sharp spank on your ass, squeezing at the flesh and holding it there til you start grinding into it, loving the pinch. "you shouldn’t do that, my boyfriend wouldn't appreciate it,” you tease, and he gets the hint.

“yeah? what kind of boyfriend leaves you in a bed alone like this?” he's spreading your thighs apart while inching closer to the softest part on the inside. where you start getting slick, glistening, and so lewd. staining the sheets you've spent all afternoon getting cleaned in preparation for him, only for them to get soiled all over again.

"the kind that has more important things to do," you use the words that will rile him up, hips bucking upwards to get a feel of his hardening cock in his sweats. he's gone for the grey ones, they're comfy, but you know he's chosen them deliberately so he'd have no trouble taking them off. as if he already had it planned and thought out, that he knew he was going to fuck you as soon as he got home.

"if you were my girl, i'd never leave this bed. must have been so cold, so empty all those nights," there's a truth there, that he still feels guilty for having to leave you. it's only been a week but he can't last a day without seeing you, touching you, hearing the sweet moans you let out. just like the ones you sing when he watches your clit throb in between your slit. pussy lips delicate and puffy you gasp as he spreads them with his middle finger, dipping in and out slowly. thumb moving upwards to your clit and flicking with skilled precision. back and forth he lightly teases before pressing down hard just the way you like it.

"it wasn't too bad, i played with myself thinking about him..." you purr, hand coming up to stroke a vein by his bicep, trailing down a river of blue to his forearm. his other hand tightens its grip on your hip as a warning at your admission. he'd made it clear you were to wait, but he should have known better, you would only scoff at his rules. must have started touching yourself before he even left just to challenge him.

"i know he gave me orders but what's a girl to do. you won't tell him, right? you're gonna take care of me, gonna show him how much better you fuck me,” it's just an act. a romantic effort, an attempt at seduction, a twisted, fucked up game you both play where you pretend to be strangers. just to be reminded how amazing it feels that you've found one another.

there's that glint in his eye when you say it. loves when you get a little frisky, a little bit desperate, urging for his resolve to break. he swears he's not the jealous type, why should he worry over losing what's already his, but it's enough to make him lose his mind. you don't want him to go slow, you want him to fuck it out of his system, all that's been pent up. use me, own me, i'm the only one who gets to have you like this.

——————————————————

he starts to drift the moment he plops himself next to you. a final pleasure-filled groan leaves his lips, sounding guttural and oh-so satisfied, not surprising given that he just came twice. he's worn out, head in the clouds with this dopey smile on his face, mirroring the one you try to hide as you take in his exhausted form. you feel giddy all over, woozy, because you did that to him.

"i missed you," you say, not knowing if he's actually listening, but he rolls over and wraps his arms around you. locking tight and secure.

"i'm still missing you...even after i've just fucked you," he laughs and kisses the back of your neck languidly, tasting the sweat that sticks. nosing and rubbing the back of your ear like a needy thing...gosh, you love when he gets this affectionate, this touchy, clinging and craving for more.

you feel him breathe out a question then, something that's been weighing on him for awhile you suppose, sukuna has found that the post-sex haze happens to always be the 'right time' to say the things he's afraid of saying. maybe since he's already so exposed, it's the only time he can breach his feelings, when he's assured enough that he has you, that you wouldn't run away—"what would you do if you found out i wasn't who i really am? like what if i did something unexpected?"

turning around to face him, you think about it. pondering on whether he'd ever be so different from who he is now. if he changes so much that he became unrecognizable. "you finally decided to go back to black?" you joke, running your fingers through his messy hair. he's been contemplating it recently, something about how the bleach is beginning to take a toll on his ends. it earns you a soft chuckle from him, a breathy one.

you admire his pretty lashes that droop and get heavier by the second, sleep taking over and seeping in. "i guess we'll just have to save this conversation for the morning," you whisper, kissing him goodnight as he lulls off to slumber.

—————————————————

"i'm taking a break in the summer, have some fun before i cut the weight," he says, leaning against the fridge while you're busy chopping up ingredients for lunch. giving him a noise of approval in return because you know he's dreading having to camp out and starve himself rid of 20 pounds once the season starts.

it's also the time he finally decides to unpack, albeit a month too late but he's always been a terrible procrastinator outside of meal plans and weight lifting regiments. groans at the monumental task at hand like a kid throwing a tantrum before pulling out travel-sized shampoo bottles and sweat-damp tshirts from his luggage. the smell is horrid, and you've already left several notes around the house reminding him to disinfect the lining.

beep, beep, beeeep, he forcefully presses the buttons on the washing machine. making sure it rings out loud so you'll know he's done it. maybe then you'll quit nagging at him. (screw that. he likes it when you nag, seeing you get so demanding turns him on.) (and you still wonder why he leaves these tasks to the very last minute.)

and he also indulges himself. sleeping in and eating whatever he likes. all the carbs and salt he can have, sometimes he goes as far as getting dessert after meals.

and other times he gets his dick pierced.

this blowjob is like any other blowjob. at least at the very start of it. moving your lips lower and licking over his ridged muscles, down to the place where they cut into a glorious deep v-line. you'd been nervous about these deep grooves once, about what you were supposed to do when faced with it. but you don't hesitate now, leaving soft smooches trailing behind, his skin warm under your parting lips, your tongue licks a stripe along that stunning ridge of his hip.

you see it for the first time then. the shining metal piercing sitting pretty on the tip of his cock, a circular ring with a bead where the ends meet. catching more than light but the slipping, slick pre that dribbles the more he waits in anticipation for your soft lips. how you admire him now with wide eyes and that slight fascination. his cock big and hard and straining.

you stare down his length, stunned and mouth-watering as you consider it. did you ever think he was capable of it, or is it that you're on the turn, the initial feelings of uncertainty dissipating now that you've seen it up close. blood pumping and coursing, his shaft grows thicker with every passing second, throbbing and twitching.

leaning forward, you press a soft kiss just beneath the head, letting your breath wash over him. instantly his hips buck, bowing off the bed and arching toward you. "fuck—" he gasps. he liked that way too much. no, he loves it. and you've barely started.

a bead of precum dribbles out, watches the way it runs down, no thanks to your grinning face looking up at him, finding his half-lidded, heated gaze and keeping him there. without looking away, you dart your tongue out and lick that salty-sweet drop from him, loving the way his eyes roll back, lids sliding closed as he fists his hand in your hair. "you're going to kill me."

you doubt it'll be that easy, but then again, he looks about ready to explode. "you never told me about this," you tease, gently wrapping your fingers around his shaft. it's a sight he'll burn in the back of his brain forever, saliva and pre cum spreading across your tongue, pooling there in a drooly mess, the gossamer thin strands connecting each time his cock taps lightly against your flattened tongue.

god...he doesn't think he'll come out of this alive. "why'd you think i asked you—" he lets out a groan then as your mouth closes over his cockhead warmly, lips pursing halfway down the shaft. his piercing is an unfamiliar part of the act, but the moment it bumps into the soft spongy muscle, your tongue swirling in rapid circles around the bulging head, it sends his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

"hmm?" you hum curiously, head tilting to the side like you were innocent in all of this, he had never once mentioned it, so why was it your fault that he now braces himself, slowly feeding you his length.

"the night i came home," he elaborates, which isn't much, but he's too occupied with guiding your mouth, trying to resist drawing his release out too quickly. "if i did something you wouldn't expect me to," he grits out finally, right as you start jerking him, holding him at his very base in a tightly formed fist and taking his cock in deep, powerful thrusts down your throat, each one leaving him wet with your spit and throbbing desperately against the tight fit of your mouth.

it clicks then, you begin to realize what he meant, popping your lips off him reluctantly for a second to clarify, "i didn't think you were talking about getting a new piercing."

sukuna nods, albeit in that sheepish way whenever he gets shy. you think it's cute the way he flushes from cheek to cheek despite already having your mouth around his cock.

"i thought you might like it since you'd be the only person who gets to see it," he hoists you up and onto the bed then, chuckling at the way you squeal in surprise. "and i thought maybe you'd like how it feels when it's buried inside you too," cock still hard and bobbing against his stomach, the clinking sound of his piercing gets you wetter by the second. at that moment he glides it right in between your legs, feeling the cool metal nudge at that sensitive spot, sending a tingle up your spine, a gasp leaving your lips, when he finally sinks in deep..

[feralwetcat]

Thinking about how hundreds of years in the future when theres probably written stories of Momboo and Ari in libraries, people fantasizing their story, the lady of the world and a humanoid Allay, finding love in eachother even with their differences, even though they both lost their homes in many different ways, even though for a while the world was gone, and the allay was brutal, they still found eachother (aka a hugely romanticized version because there always has to be at least one per love story)

And then we cut the camera to the two of them running around trying to catch the allays who escaped through the portal while Bruin watches in the background, a flicker of Easton leaning next to Bruin, head leaned back as they laugh, unable to truly be there but still there in spirit, allays chittering as they float higher and higher above the two

(they eventually got all the allays but not without ari having to fly up, Momboo walking on a vine to reach the allays as she instills true fear into their tiny souls, and lots and lots of screaming)

[eldragon-x]

x

[maenecoon]

i may or may not have a reverse kidnapping fic idea that i've been brewing up the past week or so -- just deciding how things will go and how i should proceed with some stuff but here's a teeny snippet!

(for context: chay is a low-level gang member that has been hired to kidnap wik. chay doesn't know wik is kimhant theerapanyakun, aka third son of the most powerful crime syndicate in thailand. so that's fun!!)

Chay and Wik, trapped in a three-by-two-meter space.

Soon, the engine starts with a low hum, and the truck starts to move. Wik’s slump figure, seated against the side of the wall, lolls his head toward the metal flooring. Without a thought Chay’s fingers curl around his idol’s unnecessarily-toned bicep, tipping him to rest against Chay’s shoulders instead.

“You're too pretty to get hurt, P’Wik,” Chay mutters, as though he isn't part of the group who’s put Wik in this situation to begin with. Sighing a soft apology, he picks up the rope and starts attempting to tie.

Wik’s hands are rough, the backs of them littered with veins bulging in ways enough to make Chay blush, the soft of his palms filled with guitar callouses and other blisters. He holds them for a few moments, letting himself indulge in the fantasy of itー it's all so fucked up that this is the way he's finding out how Wik’s hand feels against his.

Shame burns bright and hot in the space between their palms and Chay jerks his hand away, moving to grip his wrists instead. Still he struggles to hold them together with one hand as he loops the rope around them with his other hand, fingers clumsy and slow.