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sageofthestarz · 3 days

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Some sad kinda fucked Ifrit thoughts because I woke up and they came

Cw; Substance Abuse, Sex as a coping mechanism, and just kinda general sads.

Nothing graphic said but still putting those ^

Ifrit

Big, Strong, oh so stupid Ifrit.

That's what was thought of him. A muscle head who fucked hard, partied hard, and got fucked up without a care.

An easy fuck and go without connections, without having to stick around after sorta thing

That isn't who he was though.

This was all learned behavior because it's what got him the attention he craved, any sense of being useful, cared about even if it was only because his body was useful

He loved and hated every single second of every single hookup, high, and any other thing that got him out of his head

If he wasn't happy he wasn't useful, if he didn't stay the persona they all knew he wouldn't be liked, if she showed just how broken inside he truly was he'd lose everything and everyone he had, no matter how superficial he needed the attention

It didn't matter if it was a vicious cycle of regrets, and horrible sleepless night, bad highs and.. thoughts he shouldn't have. Couldn't have

It was all he had now

His pack was broken.

His pack hated him after he left.

He never bothered to try and reconnect, why would he.

Aether, Mountain, and Dew stayed with the band, Zephyr never spoke to him, Mist was long gone to be with the lake.

He couldn't bother any of them with this.

With him.

He left the pack, he left the band, that was his choice. He left the only people who cared about him and for what? To go and be whatever he was now?

Yes.

Even when he knew he could possibly rekindle something he didn't. Shoved those feelings down and shoved more substance down his throat.

He didn't deserve it.

Didn't deserve to have that happiness.

That comfort.

Ifrit used to be the most caring, lovable golden retriever there was.

Always following someone's trail, loving on them, and doing every favor he could

His pack loved him

He loved his pack

Now a days he's nothing more then an old dog owned by a family long since grown.

One that's waiting for the first excuse to be put down despite all the love it has left to give.

He thinks it's what he deserves.

A life of misery, and pain without comfort.

He watches his old pack in longing, the only happiness coming from seeing how happy and healthy they are

He'd do anything for them even now

He's so happy to see them thrive and love each other

Even if it also breaks his heart.

#He doesnt know how Zeph looks on longing for his mate to come home to him.#He doesn't know how much Aether wants to reach out but doesn't know how that won't send Ifrit farther into the deep end #He doesn't know that after the transition Dew wanted nothing more then for the fire ghoul to help him. comfort him. teach him #Dews been too afraid to ever speak up to him. After a offhanded comment a very fucked up Ifrit made when he smelled the ghouls scent #He couldn't bring himself to thinking he was hated #He doesn't know that the teas and medicines he finds in his medicine cabinet that help a suspicious amount with the exact hangovers #and issues hes been having were Mountain sneeking them in for him. A silent way to care without upsetting him #He doesn't know that the occasional rocks and shells he finds were small trinkets from Mist #He doesn't know that hes still very very loved by his pack #---#cw substance use #tw substance abuse #These are juet some disjointed Ifrit thoughts #I kinda want to put the tags into the post itself but idk #Too late now #Ifrit has been on my mind so much lately #I think in my lore he does eventually get help and get back into the Pack #Aether and Ifrit are mated in my mind #but also Ifrit and Zeph are #idk it's a lot of thoughts I dont know if I could ever put onto paper #ifrit ghost #ifrit ghoul #dewfrit #aether ghoul #aether ghost #water dew #dewdrop ghost #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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cw: talks of having kids

Bakugou lays sprawled out on your bed as you flitter around the room, moving from your closet to your dresser and back in a hurry of movements. You’re doing a bit of spring cleaning (yes, even in the winter), and Bakugou decided to come over and help, even though he’s just been laying around the whole time.

He had a rough patrol yesterday, even sports a few bruises on his ribs, so you let him take it easy, throwing him one of your old pink scarf hat combos with the little bunny ears on top. You don’t expect him to wear it, but the image of him laying against your bed with the floppy ears on top of his head makes you smile anyway.

You go back to your drawer, pulling everything out in order to throw some stuff away and reorganize the remaining things. At the bottom of the drawer though, do you find some old clothes when you were a baby. It’s been here for years now, after your parents gifted them to you, just in case you’d wanna use them for your future kids. It’s just collecting dust in the bottom of your drawer though, honestly, and you pull the tiny little purple and white checkered onesie out, examining it and the little bonnet underneath with a small frown.

“Who the hell is that for? ‘Cause it sure as hell ain’t fitting your big ass head.” You hear Bakugou call from your bed, your head whipping around to face him and his cheesy little grin. You narrow your eyes and poke your tongue out at him, throwing him the little combo as you turn to get the rest of the baby clothes out.

“Says the one whose head almost tore his mothers cooter in half during birth.” Thank you Mistuki for the information, you think to yourself, smiling an evil little smile that Bakugou frowns softly at.

“And it’s my old baby clothes. My folks gave it to me when I moved out, said I could use it for my own future gremlins.” You smile when you pick up the little yellow booties in your dresser, another little bonnet with a tie underneath the chin, and a pair of shorts that were entirely too cute and tiny. “Think I’m gonna throw it out, though.”

“Why would you do that?” Bakugou asks quietly, suddenly behind you, his chest against your back as he gently plucks the shorts from your hands to examine them closer. You look at him from over your shoulder, at the soft look that falls on his face, how his rough thumb rubs over the still soft material in his hands, how his eyebrows lose their crease and his mouth tilts up just so in the corners.

“We’re not having kids any time soon,” you say, your voice tacking on a silent ‘right?’ at the end of it. Bakugou doesn’t say anything for a long while, but he blinks down at you, looking so ridiculously cute in your pink hat, holding your baby clothes. You hand him the booties in his other hand and he takes them, so gentle, with such care, it makes your stomach do somersaults.

“Maybe we should talk more about that.” He whispers softly, looking at you from under his lashes, his garnet eyes searching your own. You nod though, stroking gently at the shorts he still holds with tender care, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah,” you mutter, leaning up to press your mouth against his own. “Maybe we should.”

#could u tell that i was deep cleaning in the winter and found some old baby clothes in a drawer lol #this is so specific leave me alone #but also the imagery of Bakugou wearing the clothes you’re throwing out for the fun of it :(#puts on your too small mittens and brightly colored hats and even tries on your old sweaters just to hear you laugh when he can’t fit it #over his big ass head and arms #I’m gonna sob such an ugly sob #okay I’m done I just love him so much #so many grand emotions #wait i think I’m gonna write something for touya tonight too gimme a minute 🏃‍♂️#before this sleep medicine knocks me out cold on my ass #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬

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unholy-boi · 6 months

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ocean angels

#my art #fish #ocean #deep sea #weird fish #oarfish #mola mola #ocean sunfish #footballfish #snailfish #horseshoe crab #sea lion #angels #snailfish is the angel of resilience #footballfish is the angel of ingenuity #mola mola is the angel of acceptance #horseshoe crab is the angel of medicine #oarfish is the angel of travelers #sea lion is the angel of stubbornness

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kentocalls · 3 months

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the morning after | ryomen sukuna nsfw. spicy. lots of pet names. oral, p in v. probably ooc cuz i like my men sweet. part 1

he's up before the sun, a tight hold on your form, cheek squished into his shoulder. mind blank, washes the deep blue sky turn orange, your head twitches, tries to shuffle away from the light. that's the moment he allows himself to be free from your warm body. wanders around your bedside, drags the curtains forward until the sun is blocked from annoying your face. pads over to your bathroom, collecting his shoes and belt, he's got plenty on his plate. figures a slice of toast and he's off.

he notices a very captialized 'grocery list' with messy writing before opening the refridgerator to be met with one unopened jar of cherry jam. one smoke and then he's off.

eyes taking in the street you live on, questioning the structural integretiy of your balcony before he spots a 'grocery mart.'

your head hurts. no amount of rolling around the bed is going to rid the vibrating pain dancing in your skull. you blink open your eyes and shuffle your body upright. a shower, a nice warm shower and something to settle your gut. you spot two pills and a glass of water next to your charging phone and whoa. late night drunk you is such a smart gal. you thank her for good decisions and promise not to dwell on the rest.

heavy steps to your bathroom and a nice warm stream of water hits your face. his face flashs in your mind, his deep voice "tired?" you groan, the hottest man on earth was in your place and you were too sleepy to do anything. you're not sore, no aches or marks. minus the headache thats fading.

you slip out, dry your skin, use your favorite lotion, wash your face dilgently. and shake your head at your reflection; sighing. "didn't even ask his name!" you have a soft white robe on, know you're low on laundry and head to your kitchen.

and he's still there.

nods at your stool and places a slice of toast and orange juice in front of you. he's on the phone, talking loudly and you're too caught up in the fact that he's still here. take a bite of the bread, a sip of juice. when did you buy this?

"i've got company." hangs up instantly, eyes taking in your very clean face. you look better than earlier. he kinda hates. knows he should leave but there you are with a "thank you, for last night and breakfast."

so polite.

toast hardly counts as food. but your diety habits are not his concern. he nods, another name on his phone screen distracting him. you're not fiddling with your hands, you finish the toast, drink the juice start to clean the plates and inspect the bread. when did you buy this?

"it's been nice." he leans against the counter, sincere with his words. he needed the rest, feels refreshed and ready to haggle at tiny men in suits.

it should be awkward now, as you're supposed to shuffle out of his way and he leaves without looking back but you're frowning. take a step towards him, head slightly tilted up. "you didn't even kiss me."

he chuckles, shaking his head "don't kiss one night stands." keeps the word angel at the tip of his tongue.

"but it's the morning now." you counter, inching forward. tilting your head to the side, confused and hopeful. he isn't sure if you've fully sobered up. the scent of your clean skin close. he's tempted.

you're being bold, moving closer, your robe meeting his very fine silky clothes, his hands find your hips but he doesn't stop you. you're not going to find someone like him again, that's what you say when you push onto your tip-toes inching closer.

his lips brush yours before he's moved away, noses at your neck. "nope." fine, fine, fine. you won't kiss his lips, settle for a his collarbone. he pulls you closer, lifting you up a bit.

sukuna is absolutely sure your countertop cannot support the weight of two people. and he has time, he doesn't need to be at his meetings until noon. you pull him to your bedroom, his eyes on your thighs ; can't wait to bite and grip.

"no kissing, got it. can i leave a mark here? please." your fingers burn at his neck. so fucking polite, has him nodding along, hand already under your loosely tied robe as he takes in your scent.

feels you smile against him, feels your soft lips and wet tongue and teeth grazing. "please fuck me before you go."

yeah, he has time for this.

hands on your bare skin, he kisses down your neck, down your chest, nuzzles as your stomach before continuing down down down and the way your body shudders but he never reaches the destination.

comes right back up, latches onto nipple and sucks, bites, teases. pinches your other breast with his thumb and index finger, alternating until you're begging for more. no matter your babbling he doesn't let up, heat coiling inside you but the man isn't in a hurry. "please," fuck what is his name? you try to remember when he told you, last night, it was sultry the way he said it. "please su...sukuna..."

that has his attention, loves the way it sounds. "already close?" you whine in protest, "what, need you to say what you want." "please touch me, please." you know he already is, but it gets his hands moving to your hips and thighs and his thumb faintly brushes your clit, has you gasping. calling his names, eyes pleading and he likes it.

sukuna wants to hear more, has his lips trailing wet, hot, messy down again until he latches on where you want him and nothing is keeping him away from you now.

and despite all the moaning and gasping you're still polite. still formulating sentences. you don't need to ask him but gosh your voice rings a sinful alarm, "please, can I touch your hair?"

has him silently promising to ruin every other guy for you, kissing your wrist, he places your hand on his head, comes up to adjust an arm around your hips, spreading you open. "you'll be good now right? stay open like this, no pulling."

he's about to lean in but hasn't heard the crescendo of yes falling past your lips so he pauses. your hips try to push up unsuccessfully but that's not enough affirmation. waits for your eyes to land on his, "yes?"

"yes please." "you want this?" "yes yes, please sukuna, want this. please. thank you" so polite, so very polite. he hasn't even started and you're already such a mess. twitching and shaking. tongue laps at your wet heat. so sweet, so warm, so eager.

"perfect."

first it was his tongue, then a thumb brusing your clit so slowly while he sucked new marks down your chest. and now he has you spreading open on two fingers. insistent you need three to take him, he's not here to hurt you.

you pull at his shirt, need to feel his skin against yours. his tattoos peak out and set another fire in your belly. how the fuck is he so perfect? "can i touch here too please? can i scratch?"

too polite, you're too polite, pushes his skin closer to yours, your hands delicate at first then nails digging deep, dragging him in. pulling him close.

and you're such a good girl, leaving chaste kisses on his jawline, down his neck. not trying to kiss him, not trying to rush him. he can hear his phone ringing the kitchen, falling off the counter and he's not leaving now.

he finally slips in a third, reminds you to breathe, when it's shaky his face finds yours. "too much?"

"it's...ah, it's good. thank you." and if he kisses the corner of your mouth it's cuz he's pulling you higher, adjusts your position. it's not on purpose. he doesn't need to know how soft your lips are.

now with three he moves even slower, the stretch burns and he's so fucking deep. your fingers are never going to reach this far. you moan into his neck, scratch down his back, your hips bucking up. but the pace is still slow, you can feel his heat on your leg. why the fuck does he have such good control?

"now? please, i-ah, i-'m so..." wet, messy, ready. he curls his fingers up, brushing purposefuly on that bundle of nerves and you're biting into his shoulder. legs twitching, body shaking, a flush going down your face and neck and all he does is whipser perfect into your ear over and over again. until you see stars.

are you breathing? sukuna's hand is on your stomach, "deep breaths angel, there you go." watches your eyes flutter back open, kisses your forehead, your temple, your jawline and chin. let's you orient back to the room, back to him. your hand finally releases it's tight grip on his arm. "ready?"

"can..." you swallow drly, "can I please have water?" you're ready to hear a soon or just one more. know there's a limit to how tender and paitent a partner can be. he's made you cum four times now and feel so fucking good.

you don't realize he slipped away until he's back, helps you sit up, cool glass of liquid at your lips, your hand on his wrist looks comincally small. when you're done he takes a quick sip himself, catches your eyes watching him.

and it's too soft, the way he thumbs at your cheek, concerned. it's not needed, you feel very present and very ready. "i have condoms somewhere..." you start

he scoffs.

"you do now" he points at a box sitting on your nightstand, you don't recognize it. when did you get this?

he holds a packet with his teeth, his hands reaching for his slacks, you stop him "let me, let me please."

you do your best to move your hands at a normal place, but it looks eager anyways, has him smirking, dropping the condom packet into your palm as you do a very perfect job of not looking nervous at the girth or length of his dick.

you get why he insisted on three fingers, he grabs a pillow and places it behind you, "lay back."

"yes yes yes, thank you." as you watch him lean forward, muscles moving in a coordinated dance, rubs himself through the wet of your previous release. you both moan.

he still. takes. his. time.

moves his cock up and down your pussy lips, touching your sensitive nub, driving you insane. your hips buck up at nothing, want more friction, need him inside you.

"please, please, you're so close, please."

"please what angel?"

"put it inside, please fuck me."

and he's not slow when he does, that chant of 'thank you' will be embarassing tomorrow because everything feels right now. he's so big, you're stuffed so full and he's moving at such brutal pace.

you want to hold out longer, you're already so sensitive, you're biting your lips, trying to find purchase on his back, nails deep scratching, biting at his neck.

his name mixed with your please and thank you is putting him in a trance.

you're impossibly tight. sukuna's thrusting faster than he wanted, harder than he wanted. had planned a build up, wanted to make you beg over and over but he's already there. pulling him deep, gripping him tight. the sounds echoing in off the bedroom walls are filthy.

"so good for me, so perfect for me."

"told..ah, told you..." you're slipping, the familiar twitch in your hips, you're close again and he hasn't even cum once, has he? "with you, please, please, together please? sukuna please."

he picks up the pace, the hand on your hip will leave a bruise, the lovebites on your body glow red. he's so close, "with me, look at me, come on angel." you're both so close, hips rolling to match his thrusts.

your lips are so plush, mouth open a silent scream pushes you over the edge as he follows. hips stuttering, grinding, heavy. he let's his weight fall on you, hand grips the back of your neck and brings your lips to his.

so fucking soft, so willing. he pulls off to catch a breath, spit connecting your lips and silently you trail after his lips, he kisses you slowly. moves his hips slowly, still hungry, ready to feel you again. "thank you sukuna" you say between broken kisses, your eyes lidded, body heavy, just like last night.

too trusting when your body softens against him, too vulnerable when you nuzzle into his neck, another whisper of "thank you." and you have to be his. no one can hear you like this, see you like this. no one can touch your skin like he does, no one can know how absolutely etheral you are drifting off to sleep.

his lips dance over your face, he whispers "mine" into your temple, into the crook of your neck, at the center of your chest, above your sore nipples, into your bellybutton, above your sensitive clit, down your legs and he sits on his up.

comitting you to memory won't be enough.

he'll do this again. and again. and again.

part 3

#ryomen sukuna fic #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fic #jjk smut #😳 sorry not sorry #april writes #the morning after #yes he puts the water + medicine by your bedside #yes he buys groceries and condoms #yes he's in deep #probably one more part

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