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visionsofmagic · 7 months

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✤ rougher please [yuuji + reader + sukuna] ✤

―❛ age up yuuji, pussy eating, cum eating, vessel switch, gentle, rough, harsh, humiliation, pet names, swearing, slapping, licking, biting, eating, sucking, two tongues, porn without a plot [?] • 987 words • just came into my mind & couldn't resist the urge to write. • [masterlist]

you watched how the pink hair disappeared between your thighs, leaving his black part visible more than before, after closing his sparkling eyes with excitement yet you paid attention to his tongue in your folds in the particular moment.

itadori yuuji was so good with his tongue, playing with your folds, licking all the juice your clenching pussy was making, chest raising up and down rapidly at how well he was fucking you with his hot tongue that entered inside, earning a yelp from you.

he chuckled childishly at the action, hands still holding your inner thighs, separating the legs aside so that the pink pussy of yours was wide open for him to eat out.

eyes closed, head thrown to behind only to kneel down closer to him when he began to make fucking noises that sent jolts into your slit. “mmmhh - aghhh mhh - fuc aggh! taste so gooood - shiii -“ his tongue began to go in and out in a slow yet effective rhythm. “aaagh pretty pussy - the fucking prettiest pussy!”

hand inside his hair’s folds, pulling it upwards - a source of balance to stay still after feeling so high because of his now wet tongue, leaving lewd sounds mixing with your pleases - moans and his. “yuuji!”

he chuckled once again, listening cute voices you make.

you stayed like that for a certain time before you put your legs on his wide shoulders, pushing him harder into your pussy so that his nose began to scratch the tip of your pussy - euphoric!

looking down at his face, you see him paying all his focus to enjoy the moment without hurting you.

smiling widely, you caressed his hair, making him look up around your face with his sleepy yet shining eyes. “rougher yuuji - fuuck - please please pleas - uh - oohhh -!”

you lost it when he began to work on your pussy again, only this time - it felt different and you were so high to understand the reason until he left a deep chuckle this time - the sound of it didn’t belong to yuuji, no, even the body wasn’t full of yuuji now - it was someone else’s and you see it when you look down after earning a slap on the pussy - what?

“slut,” he said, the fucking king of curses the moment you witnessed the marks on his face, eyes became four in an instant, crimson color had menace - not excitement, maybe a bit of it; lips that were covered with juice you made smirking devilishly. “the brat can’t go any rougher, but I can.”

the hands on your thighs got heavier, his grip got tighter enough to leave bruises, and the breaths you had no longer functioning.

“fuuuck!” you said, mind didn’t comprehend the situation you were in because how could it? especially after you earned another slap on the slit with the following bites. “yuu -“

a lick that took away the last brain cell from you with a slap on the thigh, “no fucking yuuji. that brat can’t do shit - not like me. did you forget whore?”

the difference hit you like a ball, yet, you showed no weakness, you just moaned his name this time when his tongue went from bottom to top until it reached the tip of the pussy, sucking the flesh as if it were the most delicious thing he can taste.

“sukuna - aggghhhh - ‘kuuna!”

he laughed at you without breaking the contact with your pussy, a hand reaching into your mouth and your messy brain couldn’t make a meaningful statement about it until the hand covered your mouth, bitter taste of the palm changed into something more - a fucking mouth of sukuna as he kept sucking, licking and eating your messed pussy.

“fucking dumb slut,” his bitter words didn’t affect you- already got used to it as you kept kissing the tongue on his palm, closing your eyes, losing yourself in the moment; a mouth kissing you, biting the lips, tongue entering into the wet mouth that leaves salvia behind whereas the other one does the same with your pussy - biting it, entering it, getting wet in sync.

already lost in paradise and hell at the same moment, your moans no longer heard, shut down by the mouth you’re kissing.

that mouth left yours, hand traveled through your body from chin to neck, breasts to abdomen ‘till it reached its final destination to join the other one by licking and leaving salvias - a few bites too, in every place it visited on your body.

no matter how much you tried to hold decency, it vanished in thin air when sukuna began to fuck you with his two tongues after putting his palm at the bottom of your pussy. “agghhhh, mmhhhh - ‘kuna, ‘is soo muuch - I - I can’ - mmmhhh - fuuagghh!”

never listened, never left, never got gentle.

he kept going only to stop when you cum hard on his tongues, dripping into them and to the floor shamelessly, screaming louder - his name was the only thing you comprehend.

leaving you there, the body already collapsed into the bed under you, he rose up on his feet, fingers collecting the last drop of your cum from the lips, disappearing inside his mouth as he licked and drank it, saying ‘hmm’.

“tasteful,” he smirked, looking at the mess he made out of you with pride. “as always, my cute little whore,” he then put his hands on your sides, kneeling down to your level, smirk still on his face as he caressed your cheeks, “would fuck you now, makin’ you paralyzed for a few days but the brat is being so noisy. it’s his time to fuck you this time, but,” he winked - oh that bastard! “the next time will be mine.”

💙💜

taglist • tagging: @snowprincesa1 ^^

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sa-sa-blogger · 5 months

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Nếu thực sự bạn không đủ củi để nấu sôi một ấm nước đầy, thì hãy bỏ bớt nước đi, và đừng cố gắng chạy đi kiếm củi nữa. Cũng như cuộc sống đôi khi quá mệt mỏi không đủ nghị lực để tiếp tục, thì bớt lại sự tham cầu ước vọng, bạn sẽ thấy tâm mình nhẹ nhõm hơn.

Thật ra, không phải lúc nào cố gắng cũng là tốt. Với những thứ phù hợp, cố gắng sẽ đem lại giá trị. Nhưng với những thứ không phù hợp, càng cố chấp thì càng đau lòng. Đôi khi phải chấp nhận rằng mình sai, mình thua, để giải thoát chính mình.

Đường đời vạn nẻo ngàn lối, nếu lối hiện tại không tốt không hạnh phúc, đừng do dự nữa, đã đến lúc phải thay đổi tất cả rồi... ✌️

📸 unknow

Retouch: Sa

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aceofsw-ords · 1 year

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I want a love I never have to beg for, a love that calls for me first.

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intellectual6666 · 27 days

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I don't deserve love. I don't deserve empathy or sympathy from people. I don't deserve the care and kindness everyone shows me. I deserve the worst, the bad, the ugly kind of thing. Because I am totally made by the monsters and concrete and love didn't exist there.

#Ayushi's thoughts #spilled ink #desiblr #desi tag #desi tumblr #me #desi teen #quotations #desi academia #my thoughts #written by me

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tiredtreebranch1 · 6 months

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Why, Oh Why is Your Warmth So Enticing?

Hero sat in the middle of their cell. All four walls were made of bars and then another four walls of fortified concrete stood a metre away. Behind that were guards upon guards. And then Villain.

Hero had been sitting here for an unknown amount of days contemplating. Scheming. Waiting. Their mind was just on the edge of grasping an escape plan.

They had been sitting here for days and their legs were starting to hurt. They hadn’t eaten, they hadn’t been given anything to eat. They hadn’t slept. They were asleep while conscious. Their gaze was glazed over, eyes open but unseeing. They could feel the coldness of the floor but nothing else. No sound. No smell. Nothing.

They wondered if they had been left here to rot. They had never been kidnapped before, so they weren’t sure how this all worked. They had thought they would be tortured or at least hit. They had just been drugged then tossed into this room to wake up. Their only bruise was from the supposed tossing.

A faint whirring buzzed through the room. Something that wouldn’t have been noticed if even the air had been moving. Hero ignored it in favour of believing it was just their imagination. They were finally going crazy. Good. This imprisonment would get a lot more interesting.

The whirring stopped and the room was once again left in silence. Hero mourned the sound.

Next came footsteps though. Something churned languidly in Hero’s mind. Footsteps? Didn’t something usually make those?

Next came the whispers, the mumbling. Like something was being said but Hero just couldn’t understand. Like they were just waking up.

Finally came the touch. Something other than the cold graced their skin. A warmth wrapped around their bicep. Their empty consciousness leaned into the warmth. They hummed lightly. The warmth spread to their face. Their jaw felt like it was glowing. Their cheek. Their temple, their forehead.

��Hero.”

A sound broke through the whispers and silence. It was different. Clearer.

“Hero. Look at me.”

Look? Their eyes no longer saw though.

A breath of air flowed across their face. A ruffling. A coolness joined the breath against their lips. They pulled back. Why had the warmth left?

After some time of Hero cringing away from the coolness the warmth returned to their jaw. The coolness was back on their lips, but the warmth didn’t leave this time. The cold spread into their mouth. They had forgotten they had one.

Hero frowned. What was going on? More cold spread into their mouth as the cold wet their throat.

The coolness pulled away.

“Alright,” came a whisper.

Hero’s frown deepened. Their brain squirmed. They were missing something, they think. Some crucial bit of information. Their mind stumbled and tried to right itself.

The warmth reached their head. A light brush through their hair.

“Come on, Hero. Focus for me.”

Hero found that they wanted to focus. They wanted to know where the voice was coming from. Wanted to find the warmth.

They tried their best to concentrate as the warmth stroked through their hair. As nails ran softly across their scalp.

They scrunched up their face when they became aware of a pounding headache. They squinted their eyes against the brightness of the room. They watched as shiny metal bars and white walls came into focus. They groaned when they realised how badly their body ached. They needed some strong painkillers.

“Are you back with the living?” Came a voice from behind them.

Hero jolted and immediately regretted it. Moving made everything so much worse. Warm arms pulled them back and fingers trailed back to their head.

They were sitting in someone’s lap.

When did that happen?

“Do you want more water?”

Hero nodded and closed their eyes against the pain. They would figure out who it was once they could move without dying.

A glass was touched to their lips, and they opened their eyes. They went to grab the glass with shaky hands, but the glass was pulled back.

“I don’t want you dropping it. Just drink,” the cup returned to their lips.

They huffed but opened their mouth to let the water in. They essentially chugged the rest of the water, there was not enough in their opinion.

“I don’t have any food, but we can sort that out in a bit,” the voice said as they pulled the cup away.

Right, the voice. Hero had to figure out who it was. Nothing moved behind them but they could feel the chest of whoever it was they were snuggled up to. Their hand continued to run through Hero’s hair, something Hero realised they had melted into a long time ago. The voice’s other hand now rested on Hero’s waist. Who could this be? Hero highly doubted it was any of the guards, they would get in a lot of trouble for doing this. It definitely wasn’t any of the Hero’s team because they would have gotten Hero out first before trying to revive them. That really only left one person.

It couldn’t be.

Hero took a deep breath, “Villain?”

The syllables raked their way out of Hero’s voice. They were sure that their attempt was more croaking than any actual words, but the person seemed to understand.

“Yes?”

Hero jerked forwards but Villain’s arm held firm around their waist. Hero was a lot weaker than they had anticipated, usually they would be able to easily pull away from just one arm. It was kind of pathetic that they couldn’t.

“Don’t move. You need to rest,” the hand that had stopped when Hero tried to move resumed brushing through Hero’s hair. The bastard definitely knew that it was making Hero turn into a puddle.

They needed to stop this.

“Because you left me to starve in a room!” Hero cried, indignant.

“Hush, you’ve only been in here for a few days. You’ll just feel a bit gross for a while, but you’ll be fine,” Villain chastised as if Hero was overreacting.

“A few days too many,” Hero said, disgruntled by Villain’s flippant attitude towards leaving people in rooms to starve.

Hero felt Villain’s chuckle reverberate through their back.

They sat there in silence. Hero tried to work past their groggy mind to figure out what they were supposed to be doing. Villain still combed through Hero’s hair delicately. Hero hated that they loved it. Villain’s fingers send the occasional shiver down their spine when they reach the nape of their neck. Their other hand still rested firmly on Hero’s hip, another thing Hero hated that they didn’t seem to mind. They hated that despite being fully lucid they still leaned into the warmth that rolled off of Villain. This was dangerous.

“Well,” Villain runs their hand down the back of Hero’s head, Hero shivered and scolded themself for it. Villain dropped the hand from Hero’s head to Hero’s waist where it tightened along with the other hand. Hero felt themself being lifted off of Villain and cried out in surprise. Once Hero had been situated back onto the floor Villain stood gracefully and grinned down at Hero.

“I better get you some food,” Villain smirked, at how frazzled Hero looked at the sudden loss of comfort.

With a whirl and a clank the bars and concrete door opened to let the striding Villain out.

The door slowly closed again, leaving the Hero once again trapped in solitary.

They hated that they missed Villain and their warmth already.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #short story #writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr #written by me #fiction #not a prompt

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eternalstarlitwonderland · 8 days

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Mournful Tears of the Starlight, Hopeful Solace of the Starlight

As night fell, the young woman began to feel dread

She knew from the bottom of her heart

The stars above will be not as merciful to her

The anticipation is slowly killing her

Her body began to shake uncontrollably

Along with her sense of self

Her eyes began to get watery

Then she knew that the starlit hour had begun

The hours of her agonizing torment have commenced

The stars above began to brightly flicker

Suddenly tears streamed down from her face

Flickering lights constantly reminded her of her past faults and mistakes

As she cried even more

The constant stream forms a large reservoir

She began to experience agonizing pain

With each tear, she shed

With teardrop, descends from

Her reservoir of tears is expanding

With sheer determination to push through the pain

No matter how much it hurt her

As the night proceeds on

The stars didn't let her have a reprieve

And yet she didn't want to accept that she was at fault for her constant suffering

Now, she has a decision to make

To reconcile with her past faults and mistakes

There's no other way around it

She has to forgive herself

Before it is too late

The crying woman begins to reluctantly approach her reflection

Silently stood there staring at herself in the starlit glint

She was stunned by its glimmer

Again, can she see the luminescence of the starlight?

If she can forgive herself and them as well?

One way to find out

She was exhausted

Her tears have withered and shriveled

Her eyes are reddened and swollen

Her dress was drenched and soaked

Her body was sore and sensitive

Seeing herself in the starlit glint, and realizes that she has some hand on the ongoing misery

She started to forgive herself in earnest

Now, the curse has been lifted

The starlight softly graces her with its brilliant glint

Afterwards, she felt relieved and content

Reassures herself that she wouldn't be hurt again

Directly and indirectly through or by her past omissions

Finding genuine solace within herself

Feeling at ease with its brilliant glint

Finally redeemed by the starlight

Accepting both sorrow and solace with equanimity

She's finally faced her fear and released her burden

Eventually, after a tearful hour, the heavenly stars shine bright upon her

Like heavenly flicker from above

#my writting #written by me #astronomy #stars #my words #words #original poem #poem #starry writes #poetry

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brouill3r · 1 month

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Chapter 6 of Sands of Time (Turn Backwards) is out my loves :)

#fellow travelers #hawk fuller #hawk and tim #tim laughlin #ao3fic #written by me #mine

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desifleabag · 7 days

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I was a bud

On a fresh new stem,

Striving to reach great heights,

Ensuring I'd bloom.

Yet you plucked me,

Picked me without care,

Neglecting to embrace

My budding potential.

You stretched my petals,

As you stretched my limbs,

Urging me to grow.

I was a bud,

Unaware of blooming,

Yet dreaming of the day

When I'd flourish like spring.

But you, impatient,

Savored my scent,

Placed me in your temple,

Adorning your hair,

Using me as a garland.

I was a bud,

Not yet a flower,

Just a tiny promise

On the plant's green bower.

Now behold me,

Neither child nor grown,

Caught in the in-between.

#written by me #desiblr #desi shit posting #desi #desi academia #dear diary #poems #poetries #short essay #spilled poetry

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passengerseatsam · 2 years

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bar fight

pairing: eddie munson x female reader

word count: 2.7k

summary: you're a bartender at the hideout. when a fight breaks out, and the band's guitarist gets thrown out, you follow him outside to make sure he's okay. what you discover might surprise you.

warnings: mentions of alcohol use; mentions of blood; sexual harassment; swearing; fist fight; mutual pining; fluff and hurt/comfort

notes: this is the first thing that I've written and finished in, like, four years.

After Eddie gets thrown out of the bar, you wait a few minutes to go find him. It takes a while for the commotion to die down. The patron with the black eye is talking gruffly to the manager, holding a cold bottle to his face, but at least he isn’t calling the cops. The barback, Gary, sends you pointed dirty looks as he mops blood off the floor. You stay planted safely behind the bar, waiting for the storm to pass.

It is partially your fault. This probably wouldn’t have happened, except you, despite knowing that Eddie’s ID was absolutely fake, let him do a few shots of tequila before his set. You didn’t think it was a big deal. He’s twenty years old, and that’s close enough to legal— not like you were feeding alcohol to a high school freshman. Besides, he had been playing here with his band every Tuesday for months, and he’d never caused any trouble. A little bit of booze to loosen up before a show couldn’t hurt, right?

Wrong.

The man was older, forties or fifties, with thin hair and breath that smelled like rum. He was laying it on thick— leaning way over the bar, into your face, telling you that certain parts of you were very pretty. Corroded Coffin had just finished their set, and Eddie, lugging an amp off the stage, had caught sight of the guy trying to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. He came in hot, all bravado and no technique. It was downhill from there.

In the end, they toss Eddie out the back door, with his bandmates on his heels. You’re left watching the chaos settle, meeting Gary’s death glare, and keeping your hands busy until the adrenaline fades.

Within a few minutes, the tension evens out. Once the creep is gone, and the manager storms back into his office, it’s easy enough to find a moment to slip out the back door. There were only five customers there, to begin with— four, now that Eddie decked one in the face. They’re good and soused; won’t need you for a while. It’s the time of night where you start watering down their drinks, anyway. You grab a bottle of bottom-shelf vodka on your way out.

Sure enough, the van is still parked at the back of the building where it usually is. Gareth and Jeff are pacing back and forth, loading drums and equipment into the back. When you step outside, Jeff pokes his head out from the van, looks you over, and sighs. “Hope you’re here to give us a hand with all this shit.”

“You wish. Where is he?”

He jerks his head to the side, directing your attention toward the front of the van. Eddie is sitting sideways in the passenger seat, holding a black bandana over his left eye. The only streetlight is flickering, so it’s hard to get a good view of the harm done. Already, you can tell that a bruise is blooming across his left cheek, a fat trickle of blood streaming from his nose and over his split lip. He took a few hits, but he seems well enough. His legs are swinging guilelessly where they hang off the edge of the van, Reeboks untied and barely on his feet. God forbid he ever sit still.

“Hey, Rambo.” You call, appraising him with a lifted brow. His head lifts. “Haven’t you ever heard you shouldn’t start a fight you can’t finish?”

“I did finish it,” Eddie grumbles. “I finished it on the floor, but I finished it.”

You snicker. “I’d ask how the other guy looks, but I saw him already. I think you look worse.”

“He looks like an asshole,” he gripes. He has the soft, unfocused air of drunkenness still lingering over him. Apparently, the beating didn’t quite sober him up. At least, you’re hoping that it’s lingering drunkenness, and not a concussion. “He is an asshole.”

“Well, the manager promised that asshole free drinks next time as a thank-you for not calling the cops.”

“So he gets free drinks and I get banished?” Eddie scowls. You shrug. Life is unfair that way.

“You threw the first punch,” you remind him. In all honesty, you do feel kind of bad. He’s drunk, but he thought he was doing the right thing. You’ve seen plenty of bar fights break out over less. He scoffs, head shaking.

After a beat of silence, his good eye glances back at you. “How about — are you okay?” His words are soft around the edges too, blending together in the way only tequila can do. “Me? I’m fine. That guy’s been here once or twice.” Or three, or four, or five times. But you had been working at the Hideout for about a year now, and getting hit on was kind of par for the course. The guy was a little rude and a little forward, but up until today, he’d been generally harmless. At least he tipped well. You had it under control.

So you didn’t need Eddie to come tumbling to your rescue, guns blazing. Maybe you should tell him as much— and you will, eventually— but that isn’t the point. You didn’t come out here to lecture him. You didn’t come out to flatter his ego, either. You didn’t ask for this, so you don’t really owe him your thanks. You just came to… check on him, you suppose. Make sure he’s all in one piece. After all, he meant well. You hate to be the reason he’s out here, bleeding in the cold.

Instead, you hold up the bottle of vodka in your hand. “Well, we don’t have a first aid kit.” Don’t tell the health inspector. “But I grabbed what I could.”

Eddie groans. “No more. My head is already spinning.”

“It’s not to drink, dumbass,” you interject with a soft laugh. “You’ve had enough.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

You stretch your hand out, and Eddie proffers the black bandana he’s been holding. It’s crumpled, damp with sweat; the corner he’s been holding to his face is saturated with blood. With it gone, you can see the extent of the damage. There’s a gash slicing through his eyebrow, dripping thickly toward the hollow above his lid. The red mark under his eye is most definitely going to be purple by tomorrow. You open the bottle, and soak a clean corner of the bandana in the alcohol. Eddie’s nose wrinkles at the smell of it. For a second, you’re worried that this was a bad idea, that the smell might be the thing that pushes him over the edge. You’re not quite sure how drunk he is, and the last thing you need now is for him to be puking out the side of his van. But he swallows, and his face evens out, in control. “You don’t have to do all this,” he says, contrite.

“I know, but it’s the least I can do. This is the most action I’ve seen on a Tuesday shift in ages.” He snorts a laugh at that, his fat lip in the way of his halfhearted grin. You’re passively thankful that the brawl left him with all his teeth.

You decide to start with the eyebrow. Eddie hisses when you touch the wet bandana to the spot, grin curling into a snarl. “Sorry,” you rush. You dab at the crusted blood that’s matted into the hair, as gently and as precisely as you can manage in the dim light. It’s quiet for a moment, you working and him trying his best to sit still, for once.

You’ve never looked at Eddie closely like this. Of course, you knew his face— you saw him every Tuesday when he played, and sometimes on weekends when he came to see another band. He was basically a coworker. You’d never taken the time to notice the details. His eyebrows are thick and symmetrical, with a slow and steady curve. His jaw is square, overtly masculine, but his cheekbones are high and defined in a way that softens the rest of his structure, boyish. He has a smattering of freckles near his temple, mostly hidden underneath the unruly bangs. Although the fight had been over for thirty minutes now, and despite the September air, there’s still a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. His chest is still rising and falling distinctly, as if he can’t quite catch his breath. If it weren’t so dark, he might be able to see the blush creeping up your throat. You swallow.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice barely above a murmur.

He shrugs. “I’ve had worse.”

“I meant your pride,” you tease with a smirk. “That old guy kicked your ass.”

“Oh.” He scoffs. His tone is casual, but his voice is thin. With your eyes focused on his brow, you don’t notice him sneaking a glance at your lips, parted in concentration. “Please. He’s lucky I left my rings at home. He’d be in the hospital right now.”

“And you might be in the back of a cop car.” You don’t mean to be sour, just realistic. This isn’t a high school hallway, after all, and it isn’t one of his fantasy games. Actions have consequences here. He can’t just go diving into bar fights totally unprompted.

He frowns. “I wasn’t trying to kill the guy. I was just trying to make a point.”

“And what point is that?”

“That drunk old creeps should know that you’re way out of their league and leave you alone.”

You sigh heavy, lips pursed. “Look… thanks for what you did, but I don’t need you to defend my honor, okay? I’m a big girl.”

And that’s true, but if you’re being honest with yourself, it’s also the first time anyone has stepped in to defend your honor. It was stupid and dangerous, but it was also… kind of sweet. Gentlemanly, in a fucked up, small-town kind of way. Maybe you’re just used to fighting your battles on your own.

Somehow, he looks even more deflated than he did before. Maybe he was hoping for a different reaction, a little more enthusiasm. You’re grateful, sure— but you were never a damsel in distress. A damsel in moderate discomfort, maybe. You’re not falling into his arms because he punched a guy in the face.

The thought makes you hesitate, fingers hovering over his skin. Is that what you think he wants?

Shaking your head, you decide to move on; lighten the mood. “Besides, I get hit on by drunk old creeps all the time. That’s kind of part of the job description, actually.” It doesn’t work; he doesn’t answer. His lips pucker, sucking the split flesh into his mouth, apparently deep in thought. You take this as a cue to work a little more quickly. You’d been taking your time, without realizing, focused more on the conversation, on him. Despite the chilly night, Eddie is warm, alcohol and adrenaline making him run hot. It radiates off of him, draws you in. He smells like lime and salt and motor oil.

You move on to the blood that has dried under his nose, dabbing halfheartedly. Without realizing, you lean in closer to get a better look, squinting in the dim light. Without realizing, Eddie spreads his legs further apart, making space for you to move in closer.

“...Yeah, well,” he says eventually, as if he were already in the middle of a sentence, and not ending a long pause. His eyes are on you. You realize it suddenly— then feel foolish, of course they are, you’re right in front of his face— but you can’t help that your ears suddenly feel hot. His fingers are drumming on his knee, restless. “My mom always said you should stand up for the little guy.”

“Your mom sounds wise,” you say thoughtlessly. “She was.” Oh. Shit. You press your lips together, trying to keep your face even while you swallow the awkwardness rising in your throat. “Sorry.” “No biggie. It was a long time ago.” He shrugs, but doesn’t elaborate any further. It’s the sort of thing you couldn’t have known, wasn’t like you were supposed to know, but you feel bad all the same. And now that you know, it opens the door for a dozen other questions you have. He’s strange, this metalhead that you’d only known from a distance on Tuesday nights. Intense but unreserved; forthcoming but pensive. He shares his most sensitive thoughts freely, but keeps the superficial stuff hidden. You don’t know what to make of it.

Another moment of silence follows. You’re not sure if the lull is comfortable or not. Before today, every conversation you’ve had with Eddie was surface level. Although you’re still only making small talk, it plays at something a little deeper— something you’re not ready to think about too closely. It’s safer to focus on cleaning him up quickly. You’ve been at this for several minutes now, after all, and the vodka must be stinging in his open wounds. You’re not trying to torture him.

“So,” he says eventually, once again nonchalant. “Are we fired?” “Huh?” “The band. Are we allowed to come back?” “Oh—no, I don’t think you’re fired.” His shoulders slump, apparently relieved. That must be what Gareth and Jeff were so cross about. “Trust me, it’d be too much work to fire you. The manager won't go to the trouble to look for a new Tuesday night act. You should be good.”

“Good.” He grins lopsidedly. “This is kind of our only real gig, so. I’d go beg on my knees if I had to.”

You chuckle. “I’m surprised. You guys are good. I thought for sure you must have a weekend gig— somewhere cooler than the Hideout.”

He dismisses this, snickering impassively. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Am not!” you promise, “I’m here, like, every night. I see the other bands they hire. You’re good.” He glows. You add, “But you know, you’d probably get a little more traction if you quit assaulting the audience.”

He laughs again, more genuinely now. “Yeah, probably.”

This time, you’re certain that the silence is comfortable. He seems less tense than before, but still thrumming with energy— not adrenaline, just his typical vim and vigor. You’re thrumming too, you realize. Fingers and toes tingling with something you can’t quite name. You didn’t have a crush on Eddie Munson when you came out here, but you might be leaving with one.

The time comes to call it; you’ve done all you can do. “There,” you say, leaning back to check your work. His skin is still stained red, but the clotted blood is gone. “That’s about as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Good enough for me.” He reaches up, gingerly touching his eyebrow before brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Thanks.” “Don’t mention it. Like I said… this is the most excitement I’ve had on a Tuesday in forever.” Although, the meaning has slightly changed since the first time you said it. You wring out the bandana, clearing it of excess vodka. He takes it and shoves it somewhere in the recesses of the van— likely never to be seen again, if the state of the interior is any indication.

His eyes flicker from you to his feet, then back. “I know you can handle yourself. But, uh. If you ever need back up, let me know.” Halfheartedly, he smirks. “I might lose, but it’ll make a point.”

The kiss you plant on his cheek is soft. It’s a product of impulse, of lingering guilt and that tingle clawing its way into your chest. You were never a damsel in distress. And you don’t owe him anything. But he cared enough, despite barely knowing you, to step in where he thought someone should. That counts for something. “Thank you,” you murmur— then, poke a finger into the center of his chest. “But don’t do it again.”

And if he’s left there, grinning like an idiot until Gareth shoves him, you don’t need to know.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #written by me #my posts

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butchpoet · 1 year

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are there any femmes out there who want butches to be nice to them in bed? no degrading or shoving you around? just like... nice cuddling and doing whatever things you want... keeping you warm and cozy... pleasuring you and checking in on you to make sure you’re enjoying it... afterwards getting you a glass of water and snacks... asking if I did a good job because I’m very insecure... stuff like that

(caveat that I’m not trying to shame those of you who like rough sex or whatnot, just curious)

#written by me #butch4femme #lesbian #i totally support all of you who like rough kinky degrading torture punishment evil sex. that sounds great in theory #but i cannot i truly cannot. i want to be nice to you!!!!! you're not a bad girl who need to be punished you are good!!!!!!!!#aaaaaahhhhhhhh

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catostrofiqu · 4 months

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Sydney to Hobart is on today (big Yacht race that happens on Boxing day every year. It's sponsored by Rolex)

Has Danny been a Racing Sailor yet?

Danny's family is shown to have a decent amount of money and knows a lot of people with money. So what if Danny decided to get into yacht racing. It's a fast pace sport when in competitive races and even in casual club races it's decently fast paced.

Danny gets into Yacht racing. Wins a few big name races and gets to meet more rich people in response.

At one of them he meets either Jason or Duke.

Event gets attacked by... not sure.

Bad guy get punched

And let me tell you. The arm strength on sailors and add onto the fact that Danny has super powers. Well that Villain is in hospital for a bit.

Maybe some Befriendment of Aquaman.

Maybe a mild space obsession which Danny uses to help navigate the seas.

Danny might dial back his strength whilst racing so he doesn't break the boat.

Maybe uses ice on the boat if something starts to break or crack.

Uses a touch of intangibility when sailing for fun to make the boat go faster with less resistance.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dcxdp #dp x dc #Danny the sailor #danny becomes a yacht racer #Came from the haunting heros discord #written by me

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visionsofmagic · 8 months

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◜ mk1 men using their powers while f*cking you ◞

▸ includes: reptile, sub zero, scorpion [mk1 versions] ◂

▸ tags: nsfw content, explicit language, inappropriate usage of power/abilities, f!reader, kind of drabble, short, canon as possible as I can, licking, watching, petnames, fingering, edging, human form!syzoth, rude and sharp!sub zero, lover!mk1 characters, brat!reader, heat, cold. enjoy! ◂

▸ notes: watched 4+ hours cutscenes of mortal kombat 1 game and well, kind of fall in love with 80% of mk1 characters, so, couldn't help but write for a few of my fav characters from the game. requests open for the mk1 characters as well & have fun while reading, thank u! ^^ [can publish part 2 of this if you would like too!]

REPTILE is a shy lover. he finds himself trying to hide his nature whenever you two have sex not to hurt you because he knows you’re still fragile even though you try to believe otherwise. he never transforms into his reptile form while fucking you, so hard for him to do that but he would rather endure than hurting you in any way. however, that doesn’t mean he lacks fun and any sort of kinks in sex, no, contrary to that, syzoth has a kinky personality that allows him to like watching you, both as general and in bed - he can’t help, especially not when you’re so beautiful leaning on the bed you two are sharing, trying to give yourself pleasure with your fingers while screaming his name because he is away for a mission as you still believe - not knowing when he will return but here he is, standing right in front of you, watching how your fingers disappear inside your folds, going in and out, mouth agape, moaning his name over and over again as if they’re his fingers - or even his cock inside your walls. he likes how you miss him enough to do all of these.

invisible to your eyes, he watches you until he’s sure you’re so close to the edge, then, chuckling teasingly, he appears slowly, giving you a heart attack right there but you forget all about it when his fingers replace yours, smirking like a brat, green eyes position on your pretty face as he looks at you fondly.

“you’re so needy for me that you can’t wait for a few hours until I return, is that it, pretty?” he chuckles, head tilting and he listens to your pleases like they’re the prettiest sound he has ever heard. he makes you cum, more than once because he says, “if that is the case, I will fuck my pretty girl so deep that she will never forget it even when I leave.”

SUB ZERO is not gentle at all when it comes to having sex with him. he prefers to make you remember who you belong to, whose name you’re screaming, and who makes your legs shake in weakness because he fucks you that good. he doesn’t think about what a kink is in detail but he knows he has a few and he uses them with you without hesitation. you like them as he understands from the voices you make, the expressions your face has, and cumming all over him without announcing because you can’t hold them any longer.

he knows he shouldn’t use any of his abilities while fucking you but he can’t help. he breaks his discipline side and uses them anyway from time to time while having sex with you; decreasing his body temperature when he fucks you behind, kneeling down until your naked back touches his bare chest so that you get close to cum, feeling a sense of chill.

he does that with some parts of his body either; his fingers when they travel on your body, in your mouth, between your thighs and holes - the tip of his tongue when it enters your pussy, making you lose your mind. he even changes its temperature from time to time only to earn the sounds you can't think you're making. he doesn't stop with his attempts of fucking you 'till you have a non-functional brain because of only him - his thick cock, the way he fucks you into oblivion and not holding himself back from using his abilities to his advantage to make you realize only he can fuck you like this. he's fond of your screams after all, begs that want him to stop because it's too much for you to handle go to deaf ears - not even when it's as cold as under a frozen surface of a deep sea.

"so cold, huh?" scoffs, humiliating your pathetic condition, "what were you thinking anyway whore?" he asks, poison in his voice, deep. "think that I would hold back because you beg so nicely?" laughs, holds your hair tightly as he fucks you from behind. "they're only praying for me to go deeper, my pretty slut." and he does - going deeper and colder each passing time and you only can take it all - you're his own pet to enjoy in the end.

SCORPION is a cute lover. he doesn't hurt you in any way as possible as he can, protecting you at all cost, keeping his fire at a minimum level whenever you're around - except while fighting of course. he never uses his abilities against you but oh, he can't deny that he loves it when you are a total brat, asking him to do such naughty things in bed, including using his fire to make intimate sessions more intense than it is needed - you both need it as you say, believing you can endure it and in the end, he accepts your pleases, allowing himself adjoining a few things he can do without hurting you.

firstly, he just uses it on his tongue when it enters your wet pussy, licking from your inner thighs to inside, giving you euphoria. he makes sure not to burn you, enjoying by himself too after seeing how turned on you are in these moments. he is a man who wants to please his lover more than himself in the first place - a gentleman. then, it begins with these simple pleasure times - it evolves into something that even you can't imagine happening and it takes you a long time to realize how scorpion has begun to his abilities on you in order to turn you on often; the cute lover discovers how you're affected by heat - in general, so, he thinks a way to make your heat go up without noticing he's the one who is doing it by increasing his body's heat as he comes near you, giving you hotness you can't ignore and start taking off your clothes one by one.

of course he acts innocent, asking how he can help you, and then smirking, saying how he makes you hot by just standing beside you. catching you in a trap with all his desires to have you, he reaches his plan's top point when you have a sports bra and shorts on your body and nothing else. oh, how he feels a kind of achievement when you agree with him, being naked and having one of the best fucking in your entire life to get rid of your heat after getting horny because of being exposed in front of the man you love.

"my love, you give me a heat even my own power can't give; you have no idea how I am burning for you." he smiles down at you, eyes burning with sparkles of fire, "oh - beautiful, the most beautiful thing in the whole universe I have ever seen. let me burn you the way you are doing to me, my love."

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sa-sa-blogger · 5 months

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Vạn vật thay đổi, con người cũng vậy. Ngày hôm qua còn nói yêu thương, bảo vệ ta đó ngày hôm sau đã không còn thấy bóng hình.

Cách nhanh nhất để cảm thấy hạnh phúc không phải là có nhiều hơn, mà là bớt đi. Giảm bớt kì vọng và ham muốn.

📸 no name

Retouch: Sa

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tiredtreebranch1 · 1 year

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Oh, What Alcohol Can Reveal

Hero opened the door to the solemn face of Villain. Villain wore a long dark coat paired with a black button up shirt and black pants. It looked like a less Villainy version of their normal outfit.

“Bit morose for a trip to the pub don’t you think?” Hero smirked.

Villain glared, “I think it encompasses my feeling of being forced to go to a pub, no less with you.”

“Like I could force you to do anything.”

Villain smirked and gestured to ask if they could be let in. Hero stepped aside and mockingly opened their arms wide in welcome to the apartment. Villain slowly picked their way through the mess that coated the floor and settled onto the couch, after moving a stack of newspapers.

“I’m nearly finished getting ready, I’ll just be a few minutes,” Hero said before walking away.

Villain nodded and surveyed the apartment. They’d been in here before, but not often. Barely anything had changed since they’d been here a year ago. A new painting has been added to a wall but other than that, nothing. Although, the apartment was a lot messier than it used to be. Piles of clothes sat in corners, magazines covered every surface, dishes were stacked high in the small kitchen, altogether it was kind of gross. Despite themselves, the Villain started to clean the apartment. Just small things like grouping all the magazines together in a few piles, throwing out all the crumpled paper that littered the ground. They avoided the dishes and the piles of clothes, that was too far (and took too long to do).

By the time the Hero emerged the apartment was noticeably more organised even if it was still covered in junk.

“You cleaned?” Hero looked confused.

“Because you obviously no longer know how to,” Villain stated airily.

Hero just raised an eyebrow in scepticism, “if you hid a bomb or something I’m going to be so disappointed.”

“I didn’t hide anything, idiot. I just couldn't bear to sit in this filth for more than a minute.”

Hero just shrugged and headed to the door. Villain shook their head and followed. After locking the apartment door, they headed downstairs.

Since Villain had been vehement against the idea of taking public transport Hero decided they might as well walk. The pub was only about a ten minute walk away after all.

After a silent walk, filled with uncomfortable silence and small glares from Villain, they arrived.

As they entered, they were hit with a wave of hot air that heavily contrasted with the blistering cold outside. Straight away Villain scrunched their nose and looked disgusted at the pub and the people within it.

“Go find a table and I’ll go get us some drinks!” Hero yelled over the noise of the crowd.

Villain just nodded. They found a booth table right in the back of the pub. If they had to be here, they would be as far away from the actual activities of the place as they could. They hated the noise and the pungent alcohol smell paired with the body odour of unwashed alcoholics. They hated how everything was sticky, everything. They felt infested by the very air of the place which surely stored a multitude of diseases and human filth. They suddenly wished they hadn’t worn their favourite coat because now they were going to have to burn it. A true tragedy.

Soon enough Hero found them, holding two pints of some sort of beer in their hands. They sat down and carefully sat the dangerously filled glasses on the table.

“I got to the bar and realised I had no idea what you liked to drink so I just got both of us a beer,” Hero pushed it towards Villain, “don’t ask me what type though.”

Villain looked at them, wondering if this had all been a ruse to poison them. Invite them out for a night and then drug them in a public place where they could conceal their malicious intentions with ease. Villain realised that calling the Hero malicious or evil in any way was a blatant lie no matter the circumstance. They were basically an angel. With that thought they decided to just go for it. They took a gulp of the beer and nearly gagged at the taste. Across the table Hero seemed to be in a similar situation, except they really did gag.

“This is disgusting, Hero.”

“Yea, sorry,” Hero said, taking another sip and immediately regretting it.

Villain just shook their head and went and got them each some more drinks.

After a few hours and, admittedly, a few too many drinks Villain seemed to be relaxing. They were getting louder and more boisterous, seeming to be influenced by the mood that floated throughout the pub. They were chatting and humming to the music. Hero couldn’t help but feel proud that they had coaxed this out of Villain. They were both slumped over the table, exchanging comments and grins.

Suddenly Villain sat up, looking and listening.

“What's wrong?” Hero asked, sitting up as well.

Villain grasped their wrist and pulled them away from the table. Looking around, Hero realised they were now in the middle of the pub, which was used as a makeshift dance floor for the drunk and sober alike. They looked at Villain, questioning.

“I fucking love this song,” Villain said passionately.

Hero grinned openly at Villain. Villain grasped them again, but this time started moving them to the music. It was an upbeat song filled with moments of yelled out lyrics. And Villain proudly sung every lyric while twirling Hero around. Hero couldn’t stop laughing, filled to the brim with a swell of unbridled joy.

Everyone in the pub had joined in by the end of the song, some knowing the lyrics and others not caring and joining in otherwise. It filled the building and was exhilarating. Villain grinned from ear to ear not taking their eyes off of Hero. They both spun and sang and danced until the song ended. They were left panting and sharing grins.

They continued this way until they stumbled their way out of the pub at some point in the early morning. Walking back to Hero’s apartment they hung off of each other. It took a few tries for Hero to unlock the door but eventually they made it home.

Villain cringed at the state of the apartment, “seriously though you need to clean.”

“I’m busy,” Hero collapsed onto the couch.

“With what?”

“Stopping you and your friends from destroying the world.”

“You never used to be too busy.”

“I just am now,” Hero snapped at Villain.

Villain raised their eyebrows. Hero looked away.

“You’re hiding something,” Villain said it matter of factly, no question involved.

“I’m not,” Hero answered anyway.

Villain’s eyes bored into Hero. Hero got uncomfortable and stood up, the alcohol muddling their usually logical responses to Villain’s interrogations. Hero decided it would be best to just walk away. So they did, without a word.

“Hero.”

Hero ignored them collapsing into their bed. Someone collapsed onto the other side.

“Who is it?”

“What?” Hero grunted, confused.

“The person you’re seeing? That’s surely the only reason you no longer have the time to take care of yourself. Are you always over at their place?”

Hero laughed, actually laughed, “I’m not seeing anyone,” at a scoff of disbelief they added; “honestly. It’s too hard in this line of work. Too complicated.”

“Okay who is it you’re crushing on then?”

Villain saw Hero’s ears turn red, and presumably the face hidden in their pillow was just as red.

“No one,” came the muffled reply.

“Bullshit.”

“Fuck off.”

“Not until you tell me who it is,” Villain settled further into the bed.

Hero groaned and raised their head to see how serious Villain was. Villain held their gaze steadily. Hero groaned again and dropped their head.

After a few minutes Hero whispered something.

“What?”

“It’s you,” came a slightly louder whisper.

Villain stared at Hero. They watched as once again the pair of ears turned bright red.

It was cute.

They must have taken too long to respond because Hero shifted and sat up. Their face was blank, and the only sign of any previous embarrassment was the fading red in their cheeks. It was kind of scary.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You don’t have to worry about it,” Hero stood up out of the bed and seemed to be distancing themselves from Villain, “I’ll see you at work then I guess.”

Villain stood up as well.

“I hope we can keep things professional,” Hero rambled on, “nothing has to change. Just pretend like nothing-”

Hero was abruptly cut off by a pair of lips slamming against theirs. Immediately they leaned into the kiss, breath snatched away from them.

Villain had effectively cut off their nervous rambling.

Eventually Hero pulled back gasping for air. Villain pulled back as well but kept their arms around Hero, a smug smirk tugged on their mouth.

“You’re an idiot, but you’re my crush too.”

Hero grinned openly at Villain and Villain couldn’t help but grin back.

“Good.”

#villain x hero #villain/hero #hero x villain #hero/villain #going out #creative writing #short story #so cute #heroes and villains #hero #not a prompt #protagonist x antagonist #love these two #love this so much #writers on tumblr #writing #written by me #fiction #all the tags

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