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fire-lizard-ro · 11 months ago

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Ohoho Sunday thoughts you say? >:D this is loosely based on the prior ask? But I was just thinking how Sunday would probably try (keyword try) to remain pure and abstain from s*x before marriage, yknow? But when he finally does have you as his own, all bets are off. Angel boi is horny and wants you :( in his mind: it’s pure and simple yet beautiful lovemaking between two souls :( and in my love deprived ass I would melt because I know he’d be big on giving and receiving praise fjgjgjgj even would enjoy the idea of extending the Family if you were down for it (whether or not you could, he enjoys the idea of it) ((also he likes control so))

And don’t get me staarttteddd on his sweet aftercare and pillow talk D: oml you’d quite literally be on cloud nine!! He is too tho :) and he cannot help himself from just being so sweet and genuine orz

ohhHHHHH- Y e s I like this quite a bit. Need this to take a break from the angst I’ve been cookin up with a certain someone (you know who you are OTL).

Fair warning y’all are gonna end up seeing me write a fic about him that is blatantly blasphemous with religious themes (pretends like I’m not already working on one like that with Argenti).

Anyways- Back to this.

Thank you so much for the ask~ I love Sunday so much. <333333

CW: possessive behavior, cumming inside, fluff!!! (crazy I know how very almost off brand of me-), maybe some blasphemous thoughts? (idk that they count with aeons but hey-), marking, breeding kink (he’s saying it regardless of whether you are able to have children or not bc regardless it’s h o t -), praise

Reader gender: gender neutral (I tried not to say anything that would be too telling about what sex the reader is so please read it as such! I don’t think I said anything that was like that-)

So going off the last ask, we’re going to assume that he likes you enough to feel great affection for you. Enough to want you. To feel his own carnal desires rear their head even before you’ve married. It manifests in his seemingly innocent yet wandering hands. A hand on your waist as he passes by you. His hands drifting dangerously low when you hug. Leaning in close to talk to you. Lips making their way down from your forehead to your cheek to the corner of your lips. The placement of his kiss making its way to your lips slowly with every goodbye kiss.

But at some point, he can’t really stop himself from at least using those pretty hands of his on you- Along with that silver tongue and sinful mouth. He’ll make you feel so incredibly good, plunging his long fingers into you and taking you into his mouth. He’s lick and suck at you and even slide his tongue inside you. Perhaps the taste of you would be enough to tide him over until you were properly his- Married to him. It would have to be enough because you deserved to have a perfect wedding and perfect wedding night.

But aeons that doesn’t stop him from pleasuring you with what he can before then in order to hopefully keep himself in line. Even as his cock aches with the need to have you, he’ll just hold you down and whisper sweet promises in your ear. Even if you beg him, he won’t. Just wait for him baby just a little longer-

But after the ceremony is over and the afterparty is done and the guests all leave-

Oh dear. You’re finally left alone with your hungry fian- husband. You’re finally left alone with your absolutely famished husband. And you’re on the menu.

It begins like how many of your other encounters of sexual nature begin.

Sweet kisses that make it seem like he wants to swallow you whole. Gentle hands taking in the feel of you in his arms. Trailing kisses down your throat, eyes closed in ecstasy because you were finally his now. He can have you with no regrets. All that waiting was for this moment. When he could finally have you wholly. And that makes this moment in the warm light of the bedside lamp and the cooler shades of the moon all the sweeter.

Wetted fingers stretching you in preparation for something larger, taking their time in their task despite knowing you well by then. Because even if this was to get you ready to become one with him- He’s wants to draw as much pleasure from you as possible. This is a special night for the two of you. One he will cherish completely and one he wants to make perfect for you. His arm would be holding him up, cradled behind your head for you to lean on while he molds himself to your side. Even as you whine and roll your hips into the curl of his fingers inside you, pressing on that special spot inside you, he kisses your cheeks gently with soothing words. “Good… very good, my love. Just a little more- I want you to finish on my fingers first. Can you do that for me, my sweet? I know you can-”

Just as he gives you your first orgasm of the night, he takes your lips once more while gently coaxing your through the waves of pleasure. He’s so soft, guiding you through the dance even while your mind goes blank for a bit as he watches your expression. “That’s it. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he kisses you almost chastely before beginning his journey down your body to have his prize. The prize being whatever he’s managed to pull from you. He’d lick it from your body in broad strokes as though he were tasting honey dribbled over your form, caressing your every curve as he went.

Sunday would dribble lube over himself, a hand slathering the viscous substance over his cock in pumping motions. It was almost erotic watching him. The way he'd squeeze just a little at the top and you would watch his hardness twitch and drool between his fingers. But when you look up, the angelic man would only be looking at you. Gazing lovingly- longingly at you.

That's how it always was. Ever since meeting, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. You were simply radiant to him. Unlike anything or anyone else he'd ever seen.

Leaning over you to settle himself between your legs, Sunday would give you another kiss before asking if you were ready. While waiting for your answer, he'd go back to nip and lick at your neck. He wanted to mark you for all to see- You were his. His lover, his spouse, his soulmate. His. No one else's. He would love and care for you in every way, he'd think to himself.

And no- Don't just nod at him. "I need to hear you say it, dove. Please? For me, my dear?" Once you'd given him your clear consent, he'd bring you into a deep kiss while lining himself up with your stretched out, wet entrance. He can't even bring himself to tease you a little. Though the thought crossed his mind, he knew he'd been waiting far too long for this.

Once he was in the proper place, he'd rest his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in each other's air while he looks down at where the two of you would be connected, fingers drifting to fondle you in order to distract from any possible pain you may feel with a gentle hum.

As Sunday would finally push in, cockhead popping inside, he'd gasp against your lips with twitching hips he had to force still. "Are you alright, love?" Taking a moment for himself to regain his composure and steel himself, he'd hide away in the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent and feel your pulse beneath his soft lips. Once you were ready it would be but a slow rock of his hips, moving gently inside you, to eventually sheath himself completely inside. As he worked himself into your tightness, Sunday would whisper sweet words into your ears in a whisper, as though the words were only for the two of you despite no one else being around- The words would come in between kisses while he rubbed a hand up and down your side to comfort you, the hand occasionally straying to rub your sex or pluck at your nipples to distract you from the strain of this part of the night.

Once bottomed out, your ass resting in the cradle of his hips with his body covering yours, he would ask you if you're alright and give you time to adjust. It's all praises here, the man telling you just how good you are for him and saying that you're doing wonderfully. After some time passes and you rock your hips against his to test your comfort, a small moan would be startled out of him before it devolves into a chuckle. "Are you ready, my love?"

It'd start with hip just grinding into you, firm but slow and accompanied by a pleasured sigh from him. He'd hold back none of his sounds because he wanted you to know how good you made him feel. Then he'd pull out only just a bit before thrusting himself back in. At some point he had begun to properly fuck you, the push and pull like the rocking of a boat on a gentle sea. This was making love. And after angling his hips, he found your sweet spot he'd only ever touched with those pretty fingers of his.

It'd be a struggle to not lose himself in you. In your all-consuming presence and the pleasure you gave him- In the love you showed him as you reached up to bring him close with a whimper of his name. It was like hearing the gospel fall from your lips. And they might as well have been. For now you were his everything. His god, his true Harmony. Were you to say it, it would be so. And right now, you were telling him that it felt good and asking him to keep going. So, he would.

With teeth gently marking all the places he'd been, his darkened eyes would watch the way you arch your back and moan to the heavens (they were yours anyways). Sunday is something that knows how to hide its teeth and disguise itself in the form of a man. He was careful to dull his claws so he would not hurt you when he held you close. Careful to veil the violence that was part of him, showing in his eyes, when he was with you. But he was a beast who knew the taste of blood. And yet you, his pure and lovely dove, loved him and accepted him. You said he was a good man and that you loved him. You were his truth. So, it must be so.

He wanted to claim you so wholly that none could ever deny that you both belonged to one another. That none could mistake that you were his deity and him your humble and devout servant who worshiped you here in the temple of your bed, giving you his offerings in pleasure, loyalty, and love. That brought another idea to mind of just how he could claim you and show you his deepest love.

"I want to breed you, my love. To carry on the family and mark you inside with my cum. Would that be alright? Do you want that as well, dove?"

He would speed up now, thinking about how he could have a family with you. How lovely you would look with a child tottering around behind you. He would make it happen no matter what so long as you wanted it as well. When you agree, he'd smile so wide his face hurt and shower you with kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, my love my heart my everything-"

He can hardly fathom how he'd lived without you before.

Touching and kissing you all over he drove the two of you to your peak, the both of you moaning and whining against each other's lips as you kissed through the high. His hips continued to rock into yours to prolong the waves of pleasure that washed over you before slowing to a stop when you both became overstimulated.

"Thank you, love. You did so well- So very good for me. I love you so much," he'd praise and declare between kisses that he planted all over- Everywhere he could reach while wrapped up in your arms and holding you so close you wondered if the two of you could fuse together. "I love you, too," you'd mumble against his lips as he came back to them for a proper kiss. The chaste peck turning into a sensuous slide of lips, unhurried and full of undeniable love.

Even when he withdrew from your now cum-filled hole and began to clean you up, he would praise you and ask you how you felt while pressing kisses every place he touched. Once everything was done and he'd had you drink water, he'd lay down and pull you to lay on his chest. While stroking your back and pressing a kiss to your hair, he'd bid you goodnight and say yet another "I love you" before quietly humming to help you drift asleep.

Hopefully that was to your liking~ I had fun writing it! Thank you for the idea and for letting me write more about Sunday! <333

Feel free to send in another request if you want, hehe.

#Roro writes #gn reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gn reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #sunday smut #hsr sunday smut #bottom reader #top character #asks answered

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libraryofgage · 10 months ago

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Addams Family B-Side Four

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four (you’re here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One

Here it is boys!

Actually, this part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner than I originally planned lol

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

Anyway, we have more developments in this chapter! I hope you enjoy them 👀

A meme is at the end for your entertainment too!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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Eddie has plans for the walk to Steve's house. He's going to compliment the bats on Steve's cropped hoodie. He's going to ask if Steve is aware he's allergic to raspberries. He's going to gently broach the subject of how Steve knows Pubert Addams.

And then, in a moment of cosmic injustice, Pubert fucking Addams is waiting with Steve at the end of the day. Eddie slows some when he sees them, his gaze lingering on Pubert as Steve offers him a thermos to drink from. He passes it back, and Steve looks like he's going to take a sip as well when Eddie calls out, "Stevie!"

Something gratifying and warm floods through him when Steve stops and looks his way. A smile tugs at his lips as Eddie hurries over, relieved to see the thermos being capped and put away. "Hope you didn't wait too long on me," Eddie says.

"We did," Pubert replies, grabbing Steve's hand and dragging him away.

Eddie frowns and catches up. "Why are you here?" he asks.

"Pubert and I walk together," Steve says, easily slipping his hand from Pubert's grip and moving to walk closer to Eddie. Their shoulders brush, Eddie gets another whiff of that cookies and cream scent, and Pubert glares. It's perfect. "Because we live next door to each other."

Eddie blinks, frowning slightly. Before he can say anything, Pubert smirks. "That's right," he says, pulling a cigar from his pocket. "We've known each other all our lives."

He strikes a match against his palm and lights the cigar, passing the match to Steve. When he takes it, Steve just lets the flame burn. Eddie watches as it gets dangerously close to Steve's fingertips, and without thinking, he licks his thumb and forefinger and pinches the flame to put it out.

Steve glances at him, a smile tugging at his lips. "Our parents are r--"

"Rather close," Pubert says, cutting Steve off and making Eddie's eye twitch at how rude it was. "In fact, Steve's parents specially requested I look after him at school."

"Oh," Eddie says, "you're the babysitter."

Pubert blinks and then frowns, looking upset that Eddie isn't more visibly jealous. That's good. That means Eddie is managing to hide his seething anger and envy well.

"So," Eddie says, deciding to steer the conversation away from Pubert. If he does it right, he can even ice him out entirely. "Why'd you transfer here, Stevie?"

"I caused irreparable emotional, psychological, and physical damage to students at my old school," Steve replies, finally passing the burnt match back to Pubert. He smiles lightly and adds, "That's what the police report says, anyway."

Eddie hums softly. "And, uh, why did you do that?"

"They wouldn't go to a museum with me."

"Sounds like they were just dumb, then."

That earns him a bright smile as Steve and Pubert stop outside a two-story home with fountains and cherub statues and an immaculate green lawn. It's surrounded by a white picket fence, the kind Eddie thought only existed in movies and 1950s nuclear family propaganda. Next to this house is a Gothic manor, for lack of a better description. It's dark, jagged, and seems to have clouds hanging over its rusted wrought iron fence.

"This is us," Steve says, gesturing to the Barbie Dreamhouse. "I'll see you tomorrow, Pubert."

With that, Steve grabs Eddie's hand and quickly pulls him through the fence's gate like they can't get inside fast enough. By the time Eddie has blinked, a large door is shutting behind him and he's standing in a foyer. "I'm home!" Steve calls, pulling off his shoes and gesturing for Eddie to do the same.

As he's wobbling to stay balanced while tugging one of his boots off, footsteps echo from the kitchen and a man's voice replies, "Welcome home, Steve!"

Eddie gets his first boot off and looks up as the owner of the voice steps into the foyer. The only thing that keeps him from dropping his shoe at the sight of the man is the unwavering desire to make a good impression on Steve and his parents.

"Father," Steve says, waving the man closer. "This is Eddie. We're going to be working on a project together. Eddie, this is my father, Fester."

Eddie sets his boot down and nods, taking the hand Fester offers. His skin is cold and clammy, probably corpse-like if Eddie had to guess, but he shakes with enthusiasm. Literally. The man's body is practically buzzing. "Great to finally meet you! Welcome to our home. Please make yourself comfortable. We'd love to have you for dinner."

"I thought we were having pot roast," Steve says.

"The oven is big enough for both."

It's a normal enough greeting and joking exchange that Eddie relaxes. He can see some of Steve's energy in Fester, the same wild glint in his eyes, and a similarly overwhelming gaze. Though, it puts him a little on edge when it's coming from Fester. Still. The same.

"Thanks. I, uh, I'll have to check about dinner, I guess, but I'll let you know." Fester drops his hand as he speaks, and Eddie hurries to take off his other boot.

"Of course," Fester says, nodding once. "You two go work. Just scream if you need anything."

"We will," Steve replies, waving for Eddie to follow him up a grand staircase. Literally. Eddie can't think of any other way to describe the marble steps with a polished railing and gilded edges. The whole thing looks like someone from HGTV should be waltzing through a doorway to describe the exact shade of paint they used.

He takes as much of it in as he can, eyes wide as Steve leads him to a balcony that overlooks the foyer. There are only two doors here, both of them across from each other, and Steve leads him to the one on the right. It's painted a soft yellow that reminds Eddie of ducklings.

"Oh," Eddie says, his voice soft and his eyes wide as he realizes just how rich Steve's family is.

The room is practically the size of Eddie's home and sectioned off into different areas. Against the back wall is a dramatic four-poster king-sized bed with one of those gauzy curtains hanging from the ceiling above it. The wall behind it is covered with flowering vines that crawl up and reach outward from behind the bed. A tiny three-step staircase to the left of it leads to what Eddie assumes is the bathroom, considering the edge of a sink that he can see through the crack in the door. To the right is a doorway that leads to a balcony, and Eddie can see a small set of porch furniture through the glass.

To Eddie's immediate left is a whole corner dedicated to a grand piano. Not a mini one, but a full-sized grand piano and its bench. A bookcase pushed against the wall next to it is filled with books of sheet music. To his immediate right is a large work table. Papers are scattered across it, and Eddie wouldn't think anything was wrong if not for the wall of weaponry directly above it. Swords, maces, a few tasers, two spears, and one trident, among others, are carefully arranged on hooks and display pins.

Suddenly, Eddie thinks about that mace Steve pulled out when they first met. He'd told himself that Steve couldn't possibly have been serious about using it, but now he's starting to second guess that assumption.

"Where do you work best?" Steve asks, pulling Eddie from his thoughts about the weaponry wall.

"Oh, uh, on the floor," he says.

Steve smiles and leads Eddie over to the glass balcony doors, sitting directly in a ray of sunshine that makes his hair glow and creates a halo effect. Eddie nervously wipes his palms on his jeans before sitting across from Steve, marveling at how plush the carpet is.

"What did you think of my idea in class?" Steve asks, glancing at Eddie before pulling notebooks and pens out of his bag.

It takes a few seconds for Eddie's brain to catch up. "I like it," he says, hesitating for a moment before asking, "Do you actually find it interesting, though? I mean...you don't really..."

"Look like I know anything about heavy metal?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think the genre is given a little too much credit for converting people to Satanism. I mean, it's just discounting the work put in by others, you know? As a genre, though, it's pretty revolutionary, right? Like, it was doing and saying stuff nobody had heard before when it first made an appearance."

The more Eddie listens, the more excited he gets. Not only is Steve gorgeous and wild and unpredictable, he also knows a little about heavy metal and doesn't just write it off as unintelligible noise.

"How much of a history lesson are you prepared for, big boy?" Eddie asks, unable to help his grin as he leans forward.

Steve imitates his lean, his own smile a little softer. Eddie misses the way it becomes just a tiny bit smug when he glances down to see Steve's top hanging forward enough to see his chest. He's just about to do something incredibly stupid when Steve says, "As much as you're willing to give me."

Eddie blinks and looks back up, searching Steve's eyes for a few seconds. He doesn't seem sarcastic. In fact, he seems happy to listen to Eddie describe the genre, which only makes his already monumental crush grow three sizes.

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Eddie's heavy metal history lesson takes the better part of an hour to get through, and Steve spends the entire time slowly inching his way closer. He crosses the space between them as Eddie describes foundational bands and concept albums and the branching off of heavy metal from the rock 'n' roll genre tree.

By the time Eddie starts to lose steam, his eyes still bright and his face red from barely breathing the entire time, their knees are pressed together, Steve is happily leaning closer to occupy more of his space, and Eddie's hand had gravitated to Steve's calf without permission.

Steve smiles, happily filing away for later the bands Eddie mentioned and the albums he particularly liked. "So," he says, his voice soft but easily getting Eddie's attention, "sounds like we know everything for our presentation."

"You got the perfect partner for this project, sweetheart."

His grin widens, and Steve hums softly, leaning a little closer. This seems like a perfect chance to put one of his mother's lessons into action: ambiguously hint at more but don't follow through. "I'm not doing much work, though," he says, placing his hand on Eddie's knee.

Eddie squirms slightly, glancing down at Steve's hand before looking back up, a blush crawling along his cheeks and reaching for his ears. "You can, uh, design it. Yeah. Design the presentation."

"Is that really all I could do?"

Steve can see the moment Eddie registers his meaning, his eyes widening and the blush officially spreading to his ears and down his neck. He opens his mouth, glances away, and seems to blurt out the first thing he can think of to change the subject. "So, uh, w-what's with the weapons?"

"Doesn't everyone have a weapons wall?"

"Yeah, no. Uh, that might just be you, Stevie."

Steve tilts his head, humming softly as he glances at his weapons. "They're weapons I've won fights with," he says, looking back at Eddie with a bright smile. "I'm the best fighter in the family."

"Oh. Cool. And, who were you...fighting?"

"My cousins. Wednesday is the best opponent. She fights dirty. Pugsley isn't much of a fighter, really. What is much faster than me, but they always trip over their hair. I haven't won against Uncle Gomez just yet, but he has years of practice on me. Aunt Tish says it's just a matter of time, anyway. The trident, though, that was a bar mitzvah gift."

"You're Jewish?"

"On my mother's side."

"Oh," Eddie says, glancing at the wall again. His eyes linger on the trident for a moment before he asks, "And what about your dad's side?"

"I'm an Addams."

"An....Addams?"

Steve knows he's just killed Pubert's fun, but he doesn't care. He wants to see what Eddie looks like when he's angry. He wants to see what Eddie looks like when he's angry for and about Steve. "Fester Addams," he says, "Harrington is just a name of a family friend on my mom's side. She thought it sounded nicer."

Eddie's brain is visibly chugging along, turning this information over until his eyes spark with anger and frustration, his hand on Steve's calf tightening without him realizing. "And Pubert?" he asks, his voice low and more of a growl than anything else.

It sends an excited shiver down Steve's spine, and he suddenly knows Eddie can be mean and vicious and merciless if Steve only nurtured those tendencies with very positive reinforcement. "Pubert's great with explosives, but he's not good at close range fights. He doesn't even protect his kidneys. They're so easy to stab," Steve replies.

"Well, if it's that easy," Eddie mutters.

His words send a thrill down Steve's spine, and he can't help leaning into his space. He places his hands on Eddie's thighs for balance, far above the knee, and only stops when their noses are almost brushing. "I could hold him down for you," he offers, hearing Eddie gulp at their proximity.

"I, uh, might take you up on that," Eddie whispers, glancing down at Steve's mouth and staring at it.

Steve waits a few seconds, but Eddie doesn't do anything more. He internally sighs, lamenting the lack of initiative but happy that he gets to keep teasing, and leans back. "Well, just let me know," he says, his voice light as he shifts out of Eddie's reach.

He picks up his notebook, flipping it open to a blank page, and looks up. Eddie is staring at him like he's just seen Heaven only for the gates to close on him. He looks desperate but confused, and Steve decides it's a very cute look on him. "So, do you want to hear my ideas for the presentation?" he asks, flashing an innocent smile that pulls Eddie back to the present.

"Yeah. Sure. Explain away," Eddie says, his voice a little strained. Pride swells in Steve's chest at having caused the strain, and he pretends not to notice Eddie's attempts to subtly inch closer as he outlines design ideas.

When Eddie is finally close enough for their shoulders to touch, Steve rewards his initiative by leaning against him.

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Tag List (there's no more room on the list, so please follow the addams family b-side tag to see updates!)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

@jinx-nanami, @solene1324, @nailbatwielder, @y4r3luv, @happylittletrees3, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @itcanbepalped,

And now, two more memes because they're both funny

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family b side #addams steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #pubert addams #fester addams #addams family crossover #my writing

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pixelatedraindrops · 7 months ago

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I love that the 3 daily featured images on my blog are of the 3 yuma month prompt arts that I made into a little story.

Yuma Month: Yuma’s recovery process ~💜

(only I would do this lmao)

#rain code #yuma kokohead #may or may not delete this later I just think its perfect :3 #it’ll likely change tomorrow ORZ #i wish you were in control of what 3 images to feature on your blog #its usually your latest posts that show up

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lalunanymph · 11 months ago

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i feel like rin's prone to nightmares considering his daily stress and bottled emotions from his childhood :(( like u see him sleeping with furrowed eyebrows and heavy breathing :(( oh the urge to suck him off while sleeping orz

im so sick for him he makes me crazy, you're so real for this nonnie thank you for letting me play w your big brain idea 🫶🏼

tw. somno, nightmares, established relationship, female!reader, oral s*x, rin and reader are gooey for each other

Silk sheets pressed in between two breathing bodies splayed across the deepening of a velvet night.

Wedged close to your boyfriend, sleep was slowly dissipating, the feeling of him stirring hard enough to pry your eyes wide open.

You slowly blinked the fog from your mind and rubbed the crust from your eyes.

In the dim slate of the city lights spilling onto your dark sheets, you eased up onto your elbow, recognizing the cadence of his breath; the twitch of his arms.

Rin’s dark green hair was dyed the deepest shade of night, pale lids scrunching and relaxing in stuttering stops and starts—intermittently followed by a pout which tugged on your heartstrings.

“Rin-Rin?” you cooed quietly. When he didn’t stir, you sat up, on alert. “Rin?”

A whimper answered your inquiring inflection of his name. Seeing Rin now, without the glaring stadium lights and the pressure of Japan’s growing sports industry constantly looming over him like an ash cloud, you thought he looked more like a boy than the man you fell in love with.

His forehead was covered with a sheen of sweat, fists clenched at his side. The black shirt he wore to sleep stuck to his broad chest that rose and fell with staccato pants.

“Rin?”

Another nightmare.

This was the third time in the month.

If you could trace back this strange occurrence, you thought it might’ve been because of his recent match in Spain.

Through your woozy memories, you recalled another pair of flinty teal eyes. A frigid glare. How Rin hadn’t spoken a word since he boarded the flight from Madrid back to Tokyo, according to Isagi.

You were worried for him, teeth catching on your lower lip.

“Rin?”

Your voice was weak. Hesitant. Afraid of waking up old ghosts.

The rational thought of waking him up was replaced by hesitating contradiction. Rin would get mad if you interrupted his sleep, his mood cranky and uncommunicative for the whole morning. On the other hand, he didn’t look like he was exactly enjoying his dreams, and the thought made your heart twist in a dichotomy of care and crippling worry.

Trying hard not to wake him up, you pressed your head onto his chest, slowly rubbing his belly.

It was a trick your mother had taught you—when she had to soothe your own night terrors back in the days.

Instantly, Rin’s breathing grew deeper, and he stopped twitching. Chancing a peek up at him through your lashes, you drank in the stubborn scowl still etched onto his mouth.

Even in sleep he was so gorgeous it hurt to even look at him. Those thick eyelashes framing closed eyes, the perfect chiselled cheekbones.

You thought you might’ve saved an entire busload of orphans from deep diving down a cliff in your past life to be able to call Itoshi Rin yours in this lifetime.

Exhaling softly, the air was fragmented with the thickening of your heart, full to bursting. You swallowed hard, once, then twice—and inched your hand past the waistband of his joggers.

He was warm in your palm, all skin and velvet softness which lost its doughy pliancy the more you stroked along your favourite vein. You felt his heartbeat kick up a notch, his breathing giving a little hitch.

Worried that you might have woken him up, you stopped.

But, Rin didn’t make a move to break your hold on him. Stuck in sleep, you hoped his dreams were taking a turn for the better now that you were here to help.

You just wanted to help, you reiterated in your mind firmly. Your boyfriend needed you, and this was what you were good at; giving him a piece of heaven when he was constantly surrounded by the embers of his draining career and hidden secrets.

A sticky drop was smeared between your thumb and forefinger, Rin’s body responding to yours in kind. Even locked in unconsciousness, he was still sensitive, and you cooed at his reaction.

Gaining more courage, you dared to lift your head, pecking a gentle kiss to his left pec, as you trailed your way down between his thighs. Tossing the blanket aside, you shivered from the sudden brush of cold air on your exposed cleavage, keeping your eyes steady on him if he should wake up.

Rin and you had discussed this a million times before—the line toeing pleasure and coercion.

You adored it whenever he refused to listen to your whimpers of overstimulation, much like how he would get hard enough to cut through steel whenever you played with his cock at the most inopportune of times.

The memory of him crowding you against a plane’s bathroom door shone in your mind. It was a holiday or another—his monthiversary gift to you. Rin had somehow managed to coerce you to join him in the cramped toilet where he had hooked your thighs under his elbows and fucked into you until you came hard enough to almost sprain your hamstring; both titillated and terrified at the thought of being caught.

This time was no different. Your heart was a pumping mess, beating twice as hard at the thought of what you were about to do.

Grabbing the elastic band of joggers, you tugged it down, enough for his cock to spring up, half-hard and already drooling.

The taste of him coated your tongue, and you hollowed your cheeks, docilely taking him down your throat. You moaned, enjoying clean musk saturating your tastebuds. Bobbing your head, you were dedicated to your cause, freeing Rin from his nightmares and replacing it with nothing but heated sensations and deepening valleys of adoration for his girlfriend who would give him the world.

Feeling his abs constrict under your palm, you sucked on the flushed mushroom tip, the plump nib throbbing hot and insistent, pinning your tongue down.

Sucking your boyfriend off was your favourite pastime, and if anyone asked, you were happy to spend hours on your knees worshipping his cock. That didn’t mean Rin didn’t show you the same amount of devotion. He was equally as insane for your taste as you were for his, and fate couldn’t have created a more perfect pair.

His breathy moan filled your ears, and you put in more work to try and get him off; using your throat as a fuck sleeve. What you couldn’t fit down your throat, you used your hands to squeeze and tug.

Massaging his balls, slotting your face closer to his taint to kiss and lick circles on the soft flesh. You were so deep into your act of pure love that you didn’t feel his hand in your hair until a sharp tug pulled you off his cock.

Those beautiful teal eyes were ablaze, nostrils flaring. Seeing him from your angle below, Rin could easily overpower you; using his defined and hefty muscles to pin you down and make you pay for ever waking him up.

But, he grunted, eyes fluttering shut and opening again, lucidity evading those aquamarine pupils.

“What’re you doing?” he slurred, nose scrunched adorably.

In answer, you smiled and kissed his tip. Angelic and filthy like a devil in disguise.

“You had a nightmare so I was helping you.”

Rin’s exhausted growl rang through the room. He tugged you up towards him, lips crashing insistently on yours with sloppy, heated kisses.

You poured all your devotion and love into his mouth, sweet moans filling him up.

Neither of you cared for morning breath or anything else but devouring each other; egoist to enabler, predator to prey.

You felt him push your babydoll nightie to the side, exposing your bare pussy which was already soaked for him. Rin never allowed you to wear underwear while you slept next to him for one reason and one only.

He toyed with your soaked entrance using the rough pads of his index and middle finger, strands of dark hair tinged with the faintest hue of dark green in the weak light sticking to his forehead.

“Well, you did more than help,” he started, sinking two thick fingers easily into your willing cunt. Your mewl was lost in his shoulder, tiny fingernails digging into his broad back.

“So, I suggest you put that slutty pussy to good use and finish what that pretty mouth started.”

screams i need to munch him 😭

©️lalunanynph

#itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin smut #blue lock rin #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bllk rin #🦢 writes

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merakiui · 3 months ago

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Mera I beg of you, just a morsel, a sliver even, of overblot malleus content....

I am here to deliver a morsel of Malleus!!! >w< if you aren't aware of its existence, I also wrote an overblot Mal fic that can be found here!

I actually really love everything about Malleus in book 7. The absurd power he holds, the way he's essentially stitching together ideal dreams for NRC students (or dreams he thinks are ideal). I love the fact that he's poking his nose in and out of various dreams to ensure every dreamer remains sleeping. It's so eerie. The amount of control he has. I genuinely believe, if not for Silver's UM being a foil to Malleus, it's very likely he would have won and Sage's would've remained locked in eternal slumber. If anyone has watched Centaurworld, Mal reminds me of the Nowhere King's lullaby...... orz

I still can't get over how he breaks the fourth wall in the beginning of book 7 to hum the opening. That's still so insane to me........ top ten twst moments of all time omg!!!!

Ramblings aside, what if he constructs a dream for you in which you return home....... based on what you've told him about where you come from, he's able to use those details and take a few creative liberties of his own to construct a dream in which you've made it back home. But there's always something so unsettling and not-quite-right about this dream version of your world. Malleus's own preferences spill into the dream, and everywhere you go you're seeing bits and pieces of Mal. The trees that sway in the breeze look startlingly like a certain pair of emerald green eyes. The people who inhabit this dream feel so two-dimensional. It's home, or is it? Weirdcore vibes all around. <3

And of course there's the classic somno thoughts in which you're dreaming peacefully all while your body in the real world is subjected to Malleus's selfish, wicked indulgences.

Aaaa but maybe,,,, disregarding most of book 7 altogether,,, what if your ideal dream is just full of freakiness? >:) monsterfucking route where it's just you and overblot gangbang hehe. Or or!!!! To bring back apocalypse/infection au flavors....... a concept in which no one can stop Malleus and so everyone is trapped in eternal slumber. Maybe it's the blot that sustains the students after their internal faculties shut down. Waaaaa body horror + having to see your friends now in such a mindless state if you ever are granted the opportunity to wake up again,,, something something Mal needs wants a wife someone to rule alongside him and you're perfect for that role. Something something your friends aren't all there,,, reduced to undead dolls in a way.

Too many messy scenarios and thoughts,,, forgive how scattered it is, but I like overblot Malleus a lot. :3

#twisted chit chat #thinking...... eldritch horror malleus

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anachronismstellar · 2 months ago

Text

Another week another post of Airplane vs The System.

No, these are not following an order, my brain is scrambling this as we go lol

This is going to be posted on ao3 as soon as I finish it, I swear, I just- I just wanna finish it before posting so I break my fanfic writer curse orz

God Airplane, pls let me finish this 🧎‍♀️

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it :D

RIP Mobei-Jun born to be a powerful demon king, forced to play crazy sci-fi pc game 😔

---

The next time Mobei had woken up, he had felt slightly better. At least the headache was gone, and thankfully he could move his arms and legs. He still was encased in a white room, magical cool lights hurting his eyes, as if he were surrounded by fresh fallen snow.

“Welcome, Character_s201,” the voice from the Thing echoed around him, making him jump on his feet, a bit wobbly but ready for an attack. And just like their previous interactions, the Thing paused, waiting for his response, not bothered by the lack of it. “Very well. The parameters of this experiment are: to cross the chamber.”

A door, that he could swear wasn't there before, opened up in front of him showing a long corridor, the same cold lights following all its extension. To his side, a square blinked into existence, as if the writings of a talisman were held afloat in the air, in the center a repetition of what the Thing had said, with a small counter under it, a quarter of an hour time set going down.

Mobei wasn't stupid, and he wasn't about to test what would happen if the number reached zero.

He didn't run, because only fools would run straight to an unknown room. Still each step echoed as if he were walking over thousands of swords, the metallic sound making the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. He kept going, touching the walls from time to time, until he reached the end, a doorless opening exposing a perfect square room with no floor, only another opening on the other side of it, a good distance separating him from his goal. He looked down, only darkness stretching far beyond he could see. Another glance at the instructions showed him that nothing had changed except for the time, ten minutes passed after he was made to leave his previous cell.

He flicked his wrist, grabbing the threads of space, tearing reality apart until a portal appeared next to him. Again, he wouldn't be stupid to try escaping right now, no, the Thing was watching, It had said it was an experiment. So he conceded for now, extending his portal to the other side of the room, crossing it with ease.

“Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations!” the Thing announced as soon his feet touched the floor, the time freezing, the passage closing behind his back. “Important things must be told three times! The first chamber was completed in eleven minutes and fifty seven seconds. Please proceed to the next chamber.”

Mobei looked around, considering his options. What was the point of all this nonsense? What the Thing would gain from making him play such games? Even though curiosity made his throat burn, he refused to ask, instincts telling him that making questions would be playing right into the Thing's hands.

Left with no other choice, he walked. This time the next room was just around the corner, even bigger than before. As soon as he stepped inside, the door slid close, blocking his way back. A few steps ahead there was a wall made of glass, and on the other side of it, laying on a pedestal made of sharp angled metal was a sword, the blade the deepest blue Mobei had ever seen. Frost gathered around it, wisps of smoke curling from its sharp edge, as if it was made of shadows.

He wasn't the type of person to carry a sword, he could make his own from his ice, but he could admire a powerful weapon. Even behind the glass he could feel the cold energy coming from it, a hum in the air that made his teeth ache.

“Welcome, Character_s201, to the second chamber. Experiment parameters are: acquire the sword.”

Once more the voice came from everywhere, startling Mobei enough to make him blink. It was disconcerting to be bossed around by something he couldn't grasp.

Or punch.

And just like before the sign next to him blinked, the time now set to ten minutes. He held back his scoff, better not anger the Thing, but it felt as if It was just playing around, not actually giving him a challenge. With two portals he was in front of the pedestal, hand hovering over the handle, eyes looking up, waiting for another comment. When nothing came he took the sword for himself, the weight of it grounding him, as if confirming that this wasn't a crazy dream.

“Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations, Character_s201! Good things must be told three times!” It cheered on him with fake happiness. “Sword “Tengliu's Fortune” added to your inventory. Second chamber was completed in six minutes and forty nine seconds. Please proceed to the next chamber.”

Mobei-Jun looked around, searching for the next door. Maybe he should go back from where he came? But that made no sense, there was nothing else in that room.

A “ding!” sound rang in his ears, a new door appearing at the back of the room. He hesitated, the grip on the sword tightening up, waiting for an attack. He wouldn't be given a sword if something wasn't about to jump on him.

Then he felt it, the moment the air pressure shifted, the floor under his feet vanishing as the voice cheerfully announced:

“Experiment parameters are: survive.”

Mobei fell.

---

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #moshang #mobei jun #shang qinghua #airplane shooting towards the sky #god!SQH #airplane vs the system #my writing: airplane vs the system #or should I call it mobei vs the system? lol #poor dude is going through it #but hey!!! I gave him a cool sword!! thats something right?

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