persimmonsandcats
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"You some kinda connoisseur or something?" Kuroo asks. "You watch porn that's so much better, Mr. Porn Critic?"
"Yeah," Kenma answers. Kuroo, taking a sip of beer, almost misses it. He stills, darting eyes at Kenma, who looks completely normal, sucking at the rim of his beer can, head tilted as he analyzes the still frame on Kuroo's screen like it's a video game map and he's planning an attack.
Kuroo and Kenma don't really talk about porn, or sex stuff in general. Kenma never really joined in, when the guys in the locker room would start talking about shit like that. It made slightly more sense when Kenma told Kuroo he was gay, probably hard to be interested in a girl's tits beyond like a purely aesthetic those are nice if you don't want to, like, squeeze them. Kuroo himself didn't really join in with the talk that much either, honestly. He understood, in theory, why the boys talked about things like that, were interested in things like that. It just didn't quite seem to grab him the way it did the others. He mostly just wanted to play volleyball. And Kenma always seemed more interested in his games and stuff just, like, overall.
"Uh," Kuroo says. He takes a long gulp of beer. "You do?" he ventures.
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“What do I think?” He asks lightly.
“Yeah,” Dazai leans back a bit and presses a socked foot into Chuuya’s hip. “Don’t you wanna fuck me, Chuuya?” It’s asked innocently. It feels like jabbing a finger into an open wound.
Chuuya blows his smoke to the ceiling despite Dazai tilting forward and opening his mouth. Dazai makes a little tcht sound at him.
“You want to fuck me?” Chuuya asks.
Dazai doesn’t drop his eyes. “I trust you.” He repeats.
Chuuya had asked Dazai once how many times he thought you could break a person before they stopped trying to put themselves back together, stopped trying to pick up the pieces and left themselves shattered.
Depends how cruel you are, Dazai had answered after a long moment, you can still break pieces.
Chuuya is pieces and his edges are sharp.
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like real people do by persimmonsandcats
Fandoms: Chainsaw Man (Anime), Chainsaw Man (Manga)
13 Aug 2026
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Sometimes, when they leave the city, Aki feels like he’s waking from a dream. Like fog burning away and leaving his mind clear. He can see for miles.
Angel pulls his hair up messily. He eats messily. Slouches messily across benches. His limbs go every way. His voice meanders like a creek.
Aki can’t move for touching him.
He wonders, in the air between them, how much is Angel. How many particles of Angel are in each breath he takes. He pulls a breath all the way down to the bottom of his lungs and holds it.
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“What a gentleman,” Satoru says, eyeing Suguru’s fingers lingering on her dress strap. “Here I was hoping you would help me take it off.”
“Not in the club,” Suguru says like a promise. Satoru deliberately moves so that her strap falls off her shoulder again. Suguru laughs, easy, and fixes it for her again. She looks at Satoru like she’s sizing her up. Satoru bites her tongue. “Please tell me you’re going to let me take you home and fuck you, Satoru,” Suguru says in a low voice. Satoru’s name rolls off her tongue so pretty, half a purr. “Dress on or off, I really don’t care.”
“Well, that depends,” Satoru answers, trying to keep her composure. She plucks her cherry out of her drink and rests it against her lower lip, rolls it onto her tongue. Watches Suguru watch her.
“Depends?” Suguru asks, hand sliding back to the small of Satoru’s back pulling her closer. Her fingers are almost possessive, the tips of them digging in, right at the top of Satoru’s ass. Satoru likes it. She likes it a lot.
“Yeah, depends how many times you’re gonna make me come,” Satoru says, as casually as she can. She feels like a livewire.
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with a thud peculiar to unripened fruit by persimmonsandcats
Fandoms: Alien Stage (Web Series)
19 May 2026
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"Hyung?" Ivan asks, head tilted. His eyes are deep and knowing.
Till presses down on the button in front of him without dropping Ivan's eyes.
"Wanna go get a drink?" Till asks.
The mic clicks off.
In the ensuing silence, Ivan's face does something that sends a trickle of fear down Till's spine. Till shivers. Ivan’s smile spreads crookedly across his features, like it's been cut into his face with shears.
"Yes," Ivan says, "I would like that very much."