#when you get to the final pulls and it’s just RIGHT THERE AUGH

[impossible-rat-babies]

rotating skydeep cenote in my head…..

[korikokorin]

NSFW

Damian Wayne Headcannon

Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: sexual content

Picture by: https://pin.it/3OIYHwc5s

Note: this might not be a totally accurate depiction of Damian but my brain told me to do it lmao, enjoy!

He tends to babble during sex.

"Ah Auh ugh.. Ahh! Oh... Fuck mmh oh.. please... yes..."

Though he'd personally never put his own children through what he was put through, he is proud of what all those grueling years of training have taught him.

No, not the violence.

The discipline.

He takes pride in his demeanor. He was raised to carry himself with a certain elegance— class; refinement.

His cadence is firm; authoritative. His back straight, head held high, just as what is expected of him.

The heir to the Wayne family.

But in the dark and quiet? Where all he can feel is your skin against his and the soft bedding that rumples just the right way when his body moves against yours?

Well,

"Ah auh ahhh! ...Auhh huuuuhh... Mmmphff.. yes... more... please... fffuck.."

He'd hold onto you for dear life; begging, pleading, clawing at your skin for more.

He could do this for hours. Just an endless chorus of incoherent babbling. His throat would be sore and dry after. Even then he'd hold you close, stuff his face into the crook of your neck and mumble and moan and hum.

He'd keep running his fingers up and down your body, let his legs tangle with yours, pull you impossibly close so that every inch of his skin was moving against you in some way.

He'd be absolutely spent but still crave your touch endlessly.

The babbling gets worse when you call him beautiful.

Because it's true; he is beautiful. Especially like this.

Sometimes you just can't help but voice it.

"you're so beautiful."

His breath would hitch, his voice weakening.

His grip would tighten— almost bruising.

His shoulders would tremble and his brows would furrow.

His voice would come out in a pathetic whimper, and he'd melt into you.

"So, so beautiful, beloved."

Then all at once, as if his senses were returning to him, his movements would get frantic. It would feel desperate; he'd force you and him together harder, faster.

he'd all but scream for you, unable to go that far because of the painful scraping of his throat.

"Ah... Auh! Yes! Augh fuck!"

Finally, he'd cry out for the last time that night.

He'd come down from his high and say over and over again,

" I love you... I love you so much..."

Whisper it into your hair, mumble it into your fingers and your neck, kiss it into your chest — your heart.

" I love you so... much..."

Eventually, he'd fall asleep. the same words still on his lips, whispering it one more time into your cheek as he peppered your face with kisses. Holding you close in this irreplaceable warmth, breathing in your scent that makes him feel at home.

safe.

[dandylovesturtles]

havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

[chokchokk]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄) | choi san x fem!reader

a requested drummer boyfriend!san one-shot

“How do I feel like, Sannie?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar. 

You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…

“You feel like you're mine."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @ateezstanforever : @sanwhalvr : @itsvxlentine : @jeonride : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy (thank you!!!)

masterlist link | join my taglist

[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]

OH, OH, OH, AUGH!

There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime? 

You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.

And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.

Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.

So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rest in his hands with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.

Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.

San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out. 

Oh, mamma…

You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.

… mia.

San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other. 

It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.

You could have been lying in bed with him, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.

San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?

No, you dummy.

San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.

Silence.

It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…

“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.

“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.

“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.

You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.

“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”

“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.

“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”

His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curled into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.

You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)

If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.

“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”

You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your booty- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”

“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”

Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.

Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.

After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.” 

You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.

“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.

“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips.

“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.

Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”

“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.

Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.

His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.

Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.

After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.

Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.

“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.” 

San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.

Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build. 

He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.

San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?

“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.

“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think. 

“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”

Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.

“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”

You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.

“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.

You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”

“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”

“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”

“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:

“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”

Ayayay…

“How is this, Y/N?”

“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.

“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”

You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.

“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?” 

You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.

“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”

“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”

“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.

“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.

“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.” 

His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.

“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.

“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”

“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”

San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.

“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.

“N- no, I-I mean–”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses. 

“Yes, good… v-very.” 

“More?”

“Yes, yes, more.”

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”

“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”

A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”

It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”

“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”

“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”

San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.

“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”

“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”

“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”

“Fuuck…”

Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”

San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.

“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.” 

His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath. 

“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”

“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose. 

“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”

“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.” 

Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.

“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”

“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”

“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”

Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”

“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”

You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.

“... So worth though, fuck.”

A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock. 

“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”

“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.

“Hmmm? Feels good, huh?”

“Sannie, s-so good, god– you’re so– fuck fuck fuck–”

“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”

“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”

“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.

“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”

“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”

“Thaaaat’s it…”

You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.

“Good girl…”

“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.

“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.

“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips. 

“I wanna see you, Sannie...”

“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles. 

You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.

“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.

“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns. 

There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth. 

“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically,  as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.

“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”

“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs. 

“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”

“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”

“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.

“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”

“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.

“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.

“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”

San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor. 

You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.

“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”

You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him. 

San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it. 

Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously. 

“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”

You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.

“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”

He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”

San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.

“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side. 

“Y- yes, please.”

“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”

You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release. 

Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.

“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.

“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.

“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”

San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.

His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately. 

“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”

“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”

“Hm?”

“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”

You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank  you.”

His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”

San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.

“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”

“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.

“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...” 

Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been. 

“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”

When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…

“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”

“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”

“Yeah. I want you so much.”

You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.

A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.

“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”

Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask 'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"

related hard thought "for you(r) love" : read it here

[nekomanager]

.—♡ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 {KOZUME KENMA}

your surprise for KENMA's birthday surprised the both of you even more

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ f!reader, overstimulation, blowjob, slight exhibitionism, nekomimi, creampie

It's already late at night. This must be the perfect time for you to give Kenma your official gift. Quietly, you walked out of your walk-in closet, planning to surprise him.

Your boyfriend, who turned 28 today, was busy playing the game you bought for him. His birthday stream just finished and he's now playing while in a call with his teammates from high school, though they might be done with it already.

“Kenma?”

Hearing you, he gave a quick glance then returned his attention back to his game, until it dawned to him…what you were wearing.

He instantly looked at you, gasping and staring at the puffy cat ears on top of your head, the collar around your neck and the thin fabric of your pink string bikini; your top bearing a cat-shaped hole in the middle showing your cleavage and he guessed that your panties had the necessary tail. Just for him. He thirstily swiped his tongue across his lips.

You shyly crawled towards him and he gulped, just lost at the sight of his little kitten all willing to service him, taking the floor like the good girl that you are. His eyes travelled down to your collar, and a grunt escaped him when he saw what’s engraved in the metal plate, Kenma’s.

All of this. All of you. Is his.

Kenma dropped his console and removed his headphones.

You placed your hands on both his knees, parting them further so you could place yourself in between. His breathing got heavy and you cupped his cock, now turning stiff on your touch. “Y/N,” he closed his eyes and blew out a pained exhale.

Your fingers fiddled on the zipper and button of his pants, opening it with eyes full of wonder. He sprang right onto your face and you just stared at his growing erection. You licked your lips at how pretty his dick looked for you. Too pretty. You slowly glided your tongue along his length, taking your time in feeling his warmth and softness. Getting to the the tip, you circled your lips around, taking him in but not reaching half his shaft before you removed your mouth.

“K-Kitten, please…” he whined, face all reddened, “be my good girl.” Seeing how needy he was of you, you finally devoured him completely.

The tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you bobbed up and down him, your hand wrapped around as well, pumping him with the right grip. You felt the ache in between your legs as he kept huffing and moaning repetitively. Your ass wiggling as you sucked him, making him rock in your mouth harder.

“Mhmn…” you mewled.

He cupped the back of your head, fingers all tangled up around the strands of your hair as he pushed and pulled in and out of your mouth. Tears now brimming at the corners of your eyes, while your saliva almost spilled out of your lips as you were filled by him. His girth fitted your mouth perfectly, numbing at the sensation.

Kenma groaned, feeling that he’s coming close. He pulled your face away and his cum sprayed all over your face and your innocent pink kitten lingerie.

Both of you just stared at each other still catching your breaths. Breathing heavily, he took you in. Your lips now bearing the same color as your cheeks while you panted, breathless.

His eyes just pinned you when he spread his legs and tapped his thigh. You gulped and heeded like a good kitten, taking over his lap. He aligned the tip of his shaft along your dripping entrance and you sank all through his entire length. Your head swung back at how deep he hit you.

Your body was shivering at how good he felt, and he wasted no time bouncing you on his lap. You gripped your wrist around his neck so you won't fall with how wildly he was thrusting in you. Your hearing was filled with his soft huffs and moaning which made your walls clench around his cock tighter.

"Augh- Y/N!" He said as he moved at the edged of the seat. His hand hands gripped your ass firmly, moving your body to meet his deep and forceful strokes.

"Aaaah...aahh...I'm close! K-Kenma! Kenma!" You whined, finally orgasming.

However, Kenma wasn't done yet and he's not gonna let go of your cute kitty pussy until he shot his birthday cum inside of you. He placed your body on the floor and began slamming down his cock so rapidly that your knuckles are turning white and so was your vision.

You just came...You just came! Another one...another one! Your toes curled, cumming around him again. Your mouth hung open and drool slipped down to your chin.

He hugged you tight, placing a hand below your head as he gave two strong pumps before filling your pussy.

“Holy shit! Did you and Y/N just did what we thought you were doing?”

Your heads both sharply turned to the headphones beside him. Kuroo?

“H-How long have you been there?” Kenma took his headphones and asked, panicking.

“Damn! Just enough." Tora commented.

Lev added, "We're supposed to greet you, but we're the ones surprised!"

"Why didn't y'all put down the call?!"

And Yaku..."We thought it’s just a game thing until now."

"No, you put the call down next time,” Kuroo reprimanded Kenma then chuckled. "Wow. What a happy birthday. We'll leave you two alone. That's enough show for us today," continued by his best friend who ended the call.

Kenma froze, his face even redder. It's his entire team. However, he couldn’t do anything about it anymore, and his head was still light with pleasure

Running a hand through his hair, he returned his focus back to you. You were almost passed out, breathing through your parted lips. You looked so adorable that he wanted to squish you more in his arms. He sighed and smiled. At least, he got you as his special present for the rest of the night.

Happy Birthday to me.

⏝︶︶⏝︶ ୨୧ ︶⏝︶︶⏝

© nekorei 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[ohdeerfully]

Hello

I live

Well, barely

OMG ISTG I JUST REREAD LIKE ALL OF YOUR FICS I'M GOING SGSJDGDJHFJDY

Your writing. I swear. It's so good. Like when I read any other alastor x reader fic I have this nasty voice in the back of my head going 'He wouldn't do this'. THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN HERE

You are a genius. (Thabk you for speepy Alastor coming from an insomniac is good praise, no?)

My personal favourites are

a. Either of the sleepy Alastoe fics (obviously)

b. Dry bed. Istg the writing in that.. Augh

Could you do a part two to Dry bed? Maybe they just wake up (Together!!!) and awkwardly get their way down to breakfast. Then they simply avoid each other all day, not talking, but still stealing glances at each other when the other isn't looking. Then reader finds Alastor chilling on the hotel roof the following night and they TALK about it. And figure things out.

Omg thabk you for listening to my rant I hope you are doing well byeeee

~❤✨

P. S. You and your fics are my new hyperfixation

hello!!!!! in general sorry yall for my absence, finals are literally next week so it Will happen again

im so glad u like my depiction of alastor hes literally so annoying to write... a dry bed is honestly probably one of if not THE fave fic ive written (though might be a tie with mourning dove) so i hope part ii does it a bit of justice (,: i kind of deviated from ur request at the beginning (they dont wake up together >_<) but otherwise i hope u enjoy! hopefully its not too obvious i kind of rushed it

mwah! <3

A Warm Bed

(sequel to A Dry Bed)

Alastor x Reader (hurt/comfort, fluff) TW: none really, alastor is probs ooc but who cares

join my discord!

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It felt a little bit too cold when you woke up, but you couldn’t immediately find a reason why. Your eyes squinted open, facing the curtains that were drawn just enough to where a peek of the morning light rudely shone against your face. You turned over with a dissatisfied groan.

Peering at the empty bed beside you, you stared blankly as wheels began to turn in your mind. It only took a few seconds to remember the previous night, and your face quickly warned as you hissed in a breath through clenched teeth, wrists coming up and rubbing your eyes with a sense of dismay.

Man, what were you thinking. You felt a strong mixture of regret and embarrassment but also… you felt lonely. The strong, strange affection from Alastor the previous night directly compared to him disappearing and leaving you alone in the morning made you feel all the more cold. The room also had an uncomfortable silence to it, but at the same time too loud with the hum of your ceiling fan.

Whatever, you feigned indifference to yourself and lifted yourself from your mattress, legs dangling over the side of your bed for a few moments, allowing yourself to get a quick stretch in before sliding on some comfortable slippers while you went to your restroom, protecting your feet against the cold tile.

You quickly freshened up, pulling on some comfortable loungewear before leaving your hotel room and walking down the long corridor that led to the steps. Maybe it was just your current mood, but the ambience was too quiet and uncomfortable.

Your spirits slowly lifted as you made your way down the steps, and you could hear the faint clashing of kitchen tools being dropped and thrown, alongside unintelligible and arguing voices, one doubtlessly being Vaggie trying to tame—or, no, threaten—the chaos.

The air, at the very least, smelled good despite the racquet. Though you were in Hell, the food was still appetizing—even if you weren’t exactly sure what it was half the time.

You must’ve made it just in time, as right when you turned the corner you nearly hit your head against Charlie’s shoulder as she rounded the same corner. You tripped over each other for a moment before she ultimately steadied you with a hand and a breezy laugh.

"Good morning! I was just about to tell everyone breakfast was ready…” You smiled at her gesture. Every morning she tried to host some sort of typical continental style breakfast that was standard for most hotels—that is if Niffty’s behavior permitted a successful morning—and the quality was usually higher than what you remembered in your time alive. Of course, you were dealing with the Princess of Hell, who obviously wouldn’t want anything mediocre for her treasured guests.

“Thank you,” was all you could offer in return before she passed you, doubtlessly to gently announce the food to the other guests. There had been an increase in residents lately, so you weren’t shocked at the piles of delicious looking food that met your eyes when you stepped into the kitchen. You could practically imagine sparkles dancing around the fluffy pancakes and still sizzling pans of various breakfast meats.

You helped yourself to a meal, carefully stepping around the growing crowd of other guests, who all, for the most part, seemed a little aggravated at being woken up but nonetheless pleased at the free meal.

A brief hush filled the room as the air seemed to get just a bit heavier, more ominous, alongside the new presence of a prickling against your skin. You didn’t have to look up, nor did you even want to look up, to know who the culprit of such a suffocated atmosphere was; you knew him well enough.

The kitchen slowly came back to life, albeit a bit stiffer and with quieter conversation. You kept your eyes glued to your plate of food as you made your way towards the dining area. As you passed through the entrance, out of your peripheral you saw the large, looming figure of the demon you had become unnaturally attached to. You didn’t look up or even acknowledge him, pretending to just not notice, but you could swear you felt his red gaze burning a hole in your skin.

A few minutes passed after you sat down before Alastor joined you, sitting in his unofficial assigned seat. The only difference was he didn’t scoot his chair nearly as close as usual, as well as the way his body was turned just slightly so that his back was facing you. Not enough to be noticed by other people, but just enough for you—though, maybe you were just overanalyzing things?—to notice how he was pointedly uninviting you from any interactions with him.

Why even bother coming to breakfast, you thought coldly to yourself, deciding to just feel mad about it instead of stewing in your own self-hate and regret. You had already spent all morning feeling stupid for the night before. It’s not like you even eat this shit. Go eat a dead deer or something.

Your fork poked aggressively against the food on your plate, head propped up against a fist as you mindlessly scooted the food around in a pool of syrup. You hoped to convey some sense of hatred to the demon next to you as you jammed a fluffy bite of pancake into your mouth—oh, that’s so good, your spirits were lifted just a bit as the slightly sweet and buttery pancake touched your tongue.

A hand touched your back, and you jolted in surprise. Naturally your eyes first went to Alastor next to you, thinking maybe he was finally over himself, but he had his hands folded on the table in front of him as he watched another table argue over something probably meaningless. Maybe you’re crazy, but did you see his eyes flick to your just as you looked away? You shook off the idea.

Vaggie sat to your right, and was currently eyeing you with a hint of concern in her eye. You shrugged off her hand as politely as possible before smiling at her with a raised eyebrow, trying to play it off with an ‘I’m alright.’

“People that are ‘alright’ don’t usually have some personal vendetta against a plate of breakfast food,” She said in a low voice, trying to keep your conversation private, particularly from a certain set of prying, fluffy red ears. “You know you have friends here. Especially Charlie.”

“Really, I’m all good, just… long morning,” You did your best to wave away her worries again, suddenly feeling a little childish. From the way she spoke, you would think she was talking to someone going through something serious—you were just having some guy problems.

It seemed to work well enough, because after looking at you for a few more beats she raised her hand and turned away, picking up a conversation with her girlfriend. You sat in your spot for a few more minutes, but the growing anxiety from silently and awkwardly sitting next to Alastor, sifting through so many racing thoughts and doubts, gnawed at your stomach. You finally stood up and excused yourself with a thank you and left the room.

You had no specific place to be, so you just wandered into the lobby and slumped against a couch. You briefly wondered where Angel was; he was surprisingly good at listening to romantic troubles, though honestly you probably wouldn’t divulge your whole “thing” with Alastor. That would probably meet no welcomed response.

You must have dozed off, because the sudden sound of raised voices startled your eyes open. Arguments and general anger were commonplace here, so you weren’t particularly shocked to find Vaggie and Angel Dust going at it about something regarding his behavior and the Hotel—a recurring theme in their conversations. Vaggie’s words fell on deaf ears as Angel tutted at her words with a waving and dismissive hand.

“I’m sure ninety percent of these guests would love to have a piece’a me!” He said, taking long strides across the room as he fixed up his chest fluff with two hands. He leaned his hip against the large chair that, much to your dismay, sat Alastor, his grin tightening as Angel approached. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as the spider laid his torso across the head of the chair.

“Even this one…” Angel said with a pouty lilt in his voice, finger dragging up the embellishments as he tried to play flirty. Alastor clicked his tongue distastefully in response before he stood up, hands folding neatly across the top of his cane.

“Not quite to my taste, thank you!” He said, looking down at Angel with an ugly curl in his lip. Angel only huffed in response before slinking down the back of the chair and taking up the space where Alastor previously sat, leaving said demon just standing there.

Alastor’s eyes glanced at you, so brief that you honestly may have imagined it, before he simply hummed with closed eyes and melted into the ground, the shadow where he once stood inking across the carpet before finally coming to a rest… behind the couch where you were laying. You grimaced as you felt his presence manifest again, sending a ripple of that familiar prickle down your bare arms.

Was this going to be your eternity now? Playing some game of cat and mouse where you have to leave every room you’re in just because Alastor gets too close for comfort? You turned your head to try to get a look at him from the corner of your eye, but immediately looked away again when you saw he was already looking at you. You couldn’t read his expression.

You sat up and thought for a few moments. Honestly, it was probably best to just go spend a depression day alone in your room. As pushy as Alastor could be, he wasn’t typically the type to barge into rooms without invitation.

Slowly standing, you managed to avoid the attention of the couple of others in the room—though, realistically, none would care if they happened to see you leave; you were just on edge to everyone and everything. You quickly made your way up the stairs, frowning down at your feet as you walked. You shot a sideways glance at Alastor as you rounded a turn in the steps, finally meeting his gaze for a few seconds before your view was blocked by the wall.

You sighed as you found yourself in front of your hotel room, a heavy feeling making you suddenly choke up. You ushered yourself into the room before you embarrassed yourself by crying openly in the hallway, but the comforting solitude of your room as you leaned your back against the door to close it made it a bit easier to breathe.

After ensuring the door was locked, you went to stand at the edge of the bed, frowning down at the still unmade sheets. Thoughts of that tender night came to the front of your mind at full force, and you bit your lip anxiously. The warmth of his body against yours, the tangle of legs and soft touches of lips… was it all actually, in a cruel turn of reality, a fake expression of care from him? When you had finally begun to think you could read the affection on his face…

You settled into the soft mattress, uncomfortably aware of how big and cold it was. You were no stranger to sleeping alone by any means, but after finally experiencing the shared space with someone you loved, the contrast was stark and unwelcomed. You did your best to ignore it as you tucked yourself in, letting your eyes fall shut in a poor attempt to sleep away your worries.

Your attempts were unsuccessful, and an empty feeling of longing and despair in your stomach grew stronger with each hour that passed as you watched the red hue of the daylight sky turn darker. You felt both restless and tired at the same time, lacking any energy to actually do anything to pass the time. 

It all proved to be counterintuitive to the whole “sleep your worries away” as the hours you spent just lying down only gave you ample opportunity to melt in your own thoughts as the memories of last night kept returning. Man, why did you have to kiss him? You unwittingly ignored the fact that he had also played a part in closing that gap between you; you were honestly just pinning the blame fully on yourself.

Finally sick of stewing in misery, you kicked off the heavy blanket and stood up. You needed some fresh air. 

You tried to walk quickly with a fake sense of purpose so, in the odd chance you passed someone, they hopefully wouldn’t ask about your absence all day—you were typically more present and friendly with everybody as you would often help Charlie with event organization. Lucky enough for you, you passed nobody on your way to the door that opened to some stairs up to the roof of the Hotel.

After a quick pace up the echoey, metal steps, you pushed open the large doors and greeted with a pleasantly cool rush of wind. It was still warm, of course, being Hell and all, but cooler than usual. You quietly closed the heavy doors behind you.

There was a spot on the roof you typically sat at during long, restless nights, and you turned the corner of the door before promptly backtracking and pressing yourself up against the metal door once again, jaw clenched in a mix of shock and anger.

Why the Hell was Alastor on the roof at your spot with your blanket that you had left up here on some previous night? Was he doing all this on purpose? Constantly getting all too close to you while simultaneously acting cool and indifferent towards your existence? Was this all just some sick game to him? Well… it is Alastor.

You peeked over the edge from where you hid to get a better look at him. He sat serenely with his back towards you, legs hanging over the edge of the roof. You couldn’t see his expression, but his body waved just slightly, most likely to the tune of some song in his head. Despite all the frustration you felt in your soul towards him, looking at him under the blanket of a dark red sky with a sprinkling of stars… he still endeared you. Especially when he looked so harmless and relaxed.

Just as you were about to turn away again and find somewhere else to relax, he cleared his throat, stopping you before you could even move.

“It’s rude to stare,” He stated, projecting his voice just enough for you to hear the light humor in his voice. “You seem like a stalker, darling!”

You straightened your shoulders before walking out from behind the wall, a frown on your face. You didn’t walk any closer—God forbid you accidentally do anything to hurt your relationship anymore, if that was even possible.

“I didn’t mean to, I was just… surprised, that’s all,” You reasoned, tapping your foot impatiently. “You are kind of in my spot.”

He hummed, absently pointing at the surface around him. “I didn’t see your name on it.” 

You couldn’t really think of a response quickly, so you just stayed quiet, continuing to just stand in place a few meters away from Alastor.

He briefly put his hand down on the space next to him, patting twice in a vague invitation for you to join him. You thought for a brief moment before cautiously walking towards him, steps growing slower with each foot you got closer. He made no move to send you away—in fact, he even started moving the blanket in a way to make the concrete just a bit more comfortable to sit on. He still didn’t look at you.

Embarrassingly your hands had started to shake, which you realized when you reached your hand down to support your body as you lowered it to sit. You just hoped Alastor didn’t notice. You let your legs fall over the ledge, swinging slightly next to Alastor’s. You didn’t notice how he shifted his knee a bit closer to yours.

The two of you sat in silence under the still-darkening sky, and you couldn’t decide if it was a comfortable or awkward silence. Alastor didn’t seem to mind, so you tried to convince yourself it was comfortable despite the itching anxiety in your chest.

“I’m really sorry about last night,” You blurted out, unable to contain it anymore. Was it a bad idea to even bring it up? Maybe. But you felt that your relationship was already irreparably damaged so it couldn’t hurt to at least apologize. You saw his eyes turn towards you out of your peripheral, and you were too ashamed to meet his look, instead opting to fiddle with a fray of the blanket edge.

“Whatever for?” He responded after an uncomfortably long pause—this stunned you. Fuck you mean ‘whatever for?’ Your head whipped up to look at him, brows furrowed.

You had spent all die scared that you ruined everything between you and Alastor, regretting everything that led up to last night’s events—it didn’t help that Alastor himself was also blatantly avoiding you. What the fuck is he acting so confused for?

Apparently you said that all out loud, as Alastor’s smile was growing more and more strained with each loud word that tumbled from your lips. You didn’t even realize until you were done and catching your breath, but at this point you couldn’t care less to apologize or feel bad about it. You folded your arms and fixated your eyes on some random pedestrian below as another long stretch of silence filled the air.

“You confuse me,” He finally said, with a voice that lacked its usual radio tone. You didn’t respond, so he continued. “I feel these alien emotions when I’m near you—you bewitch me. And I don’t like it. I hate you for it.”

You couldn’t control the slight slump in your shoulders and the sharp pang in your stomach that his words brought you. Hate. 

“But… I kill the demons I hate,” He said, looking away from you and up at the sky. “And I can’t find myself wanting to kill you. That has to mean something, though I’m really no man to figure it out myself.”

You cautiously returned your eyes back to him, shoulders curled forward as if to protect yourself against the blow of any harsh words. But, as he spoke, you felt that anxiety slowly lighten as you pieced together what he was trying to convey in his own strange way. Although, you weren’t really sure what to say in response, filled with too many swarming emotions—both new and old. 

Suddenly you looked at the space between the two of you—was Alastor’s hand there just a minute ago? You looked up to try to get any hint of his goals; but, unsurprisingly, he remained unreadable. It was definitely safer to just ignore it.

Well, that got a lot harder when his pinkie finger stretched towards you just a bit, practically inviting you. You looked at his face one more time, swallowed your fear, and tenderly laid your hand down next to his. You moved it cautiously closer, just enough so that your pinkie touched his own. His lifted up and curled over yours, tightening in a way to bring the rest of your hand closer and enveloping it with his own. Your gaze was fixated on this exchange and you felt heat warm your cheeks and ears.

You both said nothing, but you thought the pounding in your ears would drown out any attempt.

Your attention finally broke from the hands that now clasped together between the two of you, turning up towards Alastor. You found that he had been looking at you with such an intensity it made you feel like an open book before him. His eyes had a slight glow to them now that the sky had fully darkened—eyes that were usually so malicious and secretive seemed to now burn with what you could only assume was affection.

“I can’t promise I’ll be a good man,” He finally broke the silence. His smile was small but strained, and his voice uncharacteristically quiet. 

In response you shook your head with a breathless laugh, tightening your hand just slightly around his as you focused on the street below, watching the scattered presence of night owl demons.

“I probably couldn’t promise the same, either,” You admitted, leaning back and stretching out your legs in the open air over the ledge of the roof. You froze momentarily when Alastor shifted a bit closer, his knee now barely knocking against yours.

He reached his hand out, fingers curling gingerly but firm over your chin and pulling your face closer to his. He examined your face for a moment, red eyes trailing over every curve of your features before settling back to look into your eyes.

“But I can promise, cher,” The new name he referred to you as made the already present flush in your cheeks only intensify. “That as long as you own what’s left of my heart, no demon in Hell can keep you away from me. Not even you.”

His words were spoken almost like a threat in an ominously low tone, that heavy radio affliction dripping from his words. In his eyes was a sudden look of sinister intensity and devotion, something you had never even dreamed of seeing, especially from him and especially towards you. As menacing as the words seemed, you couldn’t stop the wry smirk that inched up your lips, slightly smushed between his fingers that still firmly held your head in place.

“I’d like to see anyone try,” You responded in an attempt to match his energy. This seemed good enough for him, as his smile lifted for a moment as he released you from his grasp and faced forward again.

You yawned and stretched out your arms above your head, popping a few bones in your back before you stood. He followed suit, deftly touching his clothes with one hand to smooth any wrinkles or crooked buttons—his other was still holding your own.

He stepped closer, nearly pressed against you, when suddenly the atmosphere around you seemed to melt in a swirl of black before being replaced with the familiar decor of your hotel room. He gave you a light nudge and you fell back onto the bed.

After recuperating and settling, you watched him from your spot on the bed as he draped off his coat and slacks before joining you in the sheets. His body language was tense and unsure, but to your own pleasure the stiffness in his shoulders lightened just a bit when your hands tenderly rubbed against his skin.

The bed that was only hours before too big and too cold was now inviting with the warmth of Alastor’s body against your own, his scent filling your nose with every inhale as his hair brushed against your cheek. Every movement was a shaky blur as you were still filled with a sense of disbelief and maybe a little bit of adrenaline from the unexpected switch-up from him. The mattress dipped and creaked as he tried to make himself comfortable, which took an awkward few seconds, but after finally settling in you found yourself laid against his chest, fingers trailing down his skin.

Alastor’s own clawed fingers trailed through your hair and he hummed the quietest tune, lulling you further into an exhaustion that you didn’t realize had been creeping up on you. You fell asleep to a comfort that you hoped you wouldn’t have to spend another day in eternity without.

[queer-overwatch]

Hi!! Could I request maybe a Venture x Reader (Any pronouns will do) on like a museum date? I want Venture to yap.Please and Thank you. ( Also bless the both of you I needed more Venture content I was tweaking without them)

Venture at a Museum!

Aaa ty sm for the request!!! I love that idea so much- they are such a yapper I love them <3 also your welcome hehe, had to take thing into our own hands >:3 (also bc u didn't request a specific format (like hcs or oneshot) i just did a short lil oneshot, hope thats okay!) -Frisk

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"Look, look- they have a whole section on rocks! Kinda basic selection but it's still rocks!"

You never thought you'd be able to learn so much about rocks in one day, but it seemed like Venture had made it their personal mission to force as much information into your brain as possible. You didn't mind, really! It was always nice listening to them rant about all the cool stuff they found while walking around the museum you'd planned to bring them to, but it was a lot to take in at once.

"Augh, I love sedimentary rocks- they're my favorite! 'cuz sometimes they have like, little fossils in them and I'm like, "Woah! A cool thing in another cool thing!" and it's awesome! One time I found a trilobite fossil in a rock, it was so cool! I wonder if they have any here- that'd be so amazing! I wonder what they taste like-"

After spilling every single fact they could think of about the rocks on display, Venture drags you to a section of the museum dedicated to Egyptian history, though they mostly just seemed interested in the architecture of the pyramids. You really did try to listen, but you mostly just caught the gist of their long, long, long explanations- something about a Mastaba being like a sort of prototype to pyramids? You were just happy to see them so excited, even if you didn't quite understand what they were so hyped about.

"Oh, if only that British lady could go back to ancient Egypt and get the architects of their time to answer my questions! I'd give anything to be able to do that!" Sensing the slight disappointment creeping up on them, you decide to try and bring Venture elsewhere, not wanting them to spend any energy on being upset by what they can't do.

"Why don't we go look at the dinosaur fossils? I'm sure there's some mistakes in the descriptions that you can correct!" You take their hand, gently pulling them away from the long essay-like description of images of the pyramids that they were reading. Incising them with promises of being able to show off their intensive knowledge of dinosaur fossils, or fossils in general.

Venture perked up almost immediately, following behind you as they ready themselves to go on and on about their favorite dinosaur ever, the Deinocheirus! You tried to ask why it was their favorite ones, and all they said was something about it being "them fr fr" and having rocks in its stomach. You weren't too keen on questioning that one.

They take a large step so they're walking next to you, swinging your arms as you walk, "It's always been one of my biggest goals to find a dinosaur fossil! I really hope I do one day, if I did I could die happy!"

"Please don't die- I would be so sad if you died." You squeeze their hand, voice light as you joke with them.

"Aw but I wanna! I wanna be a fossil for future people like me to discover! When I do die I wanna be buried with a bunch of cool stuff! Maybe mess around with my bones a little, just to throw 'em off!" As you finally reach the fossil exhibits, they abandon you to run off and check over every. single. fossil. which while endearing, gave you a lot of running to do in an attempt to catch up.

"Finally! For once a museum that gets everything right! Well, everything as far as we know-" They stand next to one of the larger fossils, not anything you recognized as you take your place next to them, catching your breath.

"Wow, how impressive-" you wheeze, standing up straight and stretching out your legs as you link arms with Venture, trying to stop them from running off on you again.

They laugh, grabbing you by the shoulder and dragging you in the tightest hug you've ever received.

"Thank you, so, so, so much for planning this. And for listening to me talk about rocks so much, and for caring about me- and a million other things! I can't even remember everything you've done for me, but I know its a lot!" They let you go, still holding you by the shoulders, the biggest smile you've ever seen on a person splayed across their face.

"Of course-! I love spending time with you, you're well aware of that, silly." You laugh, grabbing their wrists and taking their hands off your shoulders, holding their hands as you admire the glow of excitement on their face.

"Welllll since you clearly don't mind, can we go to this other museum I found online next week?! I heard they have an area where you get to watch an hour long video on the story of Julius Caesar!"

[meebles]

A snippet from my Codywan Bodyswap!AU that I’m working on:

Obi-Wan grunts, blinking as he comes to. His vision swims before it snaps to a sudden clarity. All at once, he realizes three things that are very, very wrong.

First, and most worryingly, he cannot feel the Force as he normally does. He’s not completely cut off, but only just.

Second, he’s certain he was in his quarters when he dozed off. Now he finds himself in a rarely-used storage room deep in the Negotiator’s sublevels, where the men keep their homebrew that Obi-Wan definitely doesn’t know about. He’s slumped against a wall, with the majority of Ghost Company peering down at him in various states of confusion.

Third, is that he’s certain his men just called him Cody.

“What… ?” he starts, staring down at his cuisse-clad thighs. Frowning, he moves to trace a finger across the stripe of gold paint running across the right, only to blink down at a hand that isn’t his own.

Ah, Sith hells.

“I think you should come to medical,” he hears Scabs say, and Obi-Wan agrees, but first they’ll have to go find—

“Oh, Force, Cody— ”

He ignores the odd looks the troopers give him, the reality of the situation suddenly gripping him like a vice. Cody, thrust into his body, but his mind untrained and unused to sensing the living Force that surrounds them—

“Scabs, I need you to get a sedative and meet me at— at the General’s room,” he states as he fully gathers himself upright, adjusting for his new center of gravity.

His CMO blinks at him. “What— the General? What are you— ?”

“I’ll meet you there and explain, just, please. A sedative,” he manages, already opening the doors. He looks back for a split-second to see Scabs nod in affirmative, before rushing out of the storage room.

Unfortunately, his own quarters are entirely on the other side of the venator. He runs past a few troopers, who startle at his haste, but he just calls back an all clear and doesn’t stop running, he needs to get to Cody—

After what feels like a tenday on a blessedly empty turbo-lift, Obi-Wan finally makes it to his quarters. He punches in the override and the door slides open, revealing the exact sight he feared— his own body, hunched over on the floor, clutching his head as he shakes—

“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, kneeling beside him, and Cody jolts, staring up at him with trembling eyes.

“Vod?” he asks in Obi-Wan’s voice, before his eyes widen impossibly further when they land on the scar at his temple, his own scar. “What is— augh!”

Obi-Wan curses under his breath, catching Cody as his eyes roll back, body slacking. He pulls him into his lap, resting his head as gently as he can against his armored thighs.

“Cody, my dear, it’s me, it’s Obi-Wan,” he says, holding Cody’s quavering form as still as he can. “Just focus on me, focus on my voice, just my voice, right here, with you.”

“Can’t— ” Cody spits out, head shaking. “It’s too much, I can’t— ”

“Shh, I know, I know. I’m so sorry, just try for me, please? Just try, it’s just me and you here together, no one else, just us… ”

Obi-Wan keeps muttering what’s probably nonsense, but he needs to give Cody some sort of anchor, something to focus on instead of the thousands of living souls he can suddenly sense aboard the ship, something present and definite in the entirety of the Force that he’s now privy to.

Cody groans, pressing himself further into Obi-Wan’s lap. “Please, make it stop, make it stop— ”

“Cody— what happened to the General?!”

Obi-Wan looks up and sees Scabs in the doorway, and bites back a sigh of relief. He’s about to explain when his medic is suddenly kneeling by his side, shaking his head.

“Fuck— that machine, it worked, didn’t it?” he says, opening his supply bag.

“Yes, it did.” Why the effects were so delayed, Obi-Wan has no idea, but right now it doesn’t matter. “And Cody— he’s not used to how my body senses the Force, it’s too much for him all at once.”

“I understand,” Scabs states, prepping the sedative. “Hold him steady, please. Bare his neck.”

Obi-Wan does as he’s told, chest clenching as he stares at Cody’s unseeing eyes. It’s a terrible solace when Scabs injects the needle and seconds later, they fall shut.

[bearieio]

omg i just found your blog and i absolutely love it! idk if your reqs are open but if they are can i please request a simon / ghost x reader where the reader asks ghost to do something for them and they expect him to protest but he just does it no questions asks and when hes done hes like "okay now you have to do something for me 🥰" ! it can be sfw or nsfw, up to you!

dw if you can't or dont want to do this req, and if you do want to, take your time ! <3

OMG HIIII TYYY :D i love ur acc smmm!!! and YES! my requests are almost always open! it just takes a little while for me to get around to writing them! also YES! YESYESYES!

simon "stubborn" riley

warnings: ghost x fem!reader, sloppy blowjob, praising, deepthroating (readers a throatgoat fr), size kink(???), hair pulling, slapping (okay maybe just one or two slaps...), throatpie, spitplay(???)

a/n: AUGH! i was kinda nervous writing this bc i don't think i'm too good at writing.... oral situations... D; BUT i think this is pretty OKAY! also, not proofread because i'm sorta tireddd

@poisonedprose ♡

since the two of you decided to begin your relationship, simon has become the most stubborn and uncooperative person you know. especially as he’s gotten to know you better and discovered that he loves to tease and mock you. because of this, it’s hard for you to get him to oblige to even the simplest of requests. 

the one day he finally agrees to do something you ask of him, you’d be on your death bed…. or so you thought..

“wait… really?” 

simon looks up at you through his sandy blond lashes “yea, sure.” you can’t tell if he’s smirking 

expecting him to protest, you were caught off-guard. something like this had only happened in your wildest dreams. ‘who are you? and what have you done with the real ghost?’ you thought to yourself, absolutely dumbfounded at the way that he, at long last, has finally agreed to do something that you’ve asked him to do.

“wait are you messing with me?” you ask, still in a state of disbelief, scanning his partially covered face in order to determine if he was actually being serious.

“no, why?” he responds with a blank expression.

after a short pause you ask him again “are you sure?”

“yea.. it’s no problem..” he replies, low and raspy “but you’re gonna have to do something for me in return, sweetheart...”

with simons hand held on the back of your head, his pulsating cock was right up against your lower lip, waiting patiently to enter the warmth of your mouth. 

“beg.” he commands, looking down at you, eyes piercing right through you. 

with precum pooling against your lips, you whine, eyes looking up to meet his, you feel your lips fall into a slight frown

the hand that was gently placed on the back of your head has now turned into fist, his calloused fingers tangled in the delicate flows of your hair. kneeling, he brings your face closer to his, “you’d better listen if you want this to go well for you, girl.” he breathes shallowly, “beg me.”

“please simon, i-“ the desperation in your voice is enough to make him growl. he smoothes out the hair his fingers were previously intertwined in, his eyes looking down at the sight of you, on your knees, begging your boyfriend to shove his cock down your throat. 

“such a pretty baby… on your knees for me.. sucking my cock.” he groans, continually hitting the back of your throat. you can feel his legs tensing when you gag against him. you hollow out your cheeks every time you pull off of him, only for him to shove you back down onto him.

“look at me, baby,” he hums, keeping a steady rhythm, watching his cock disappear into your mouth and down your throat, over, and over, and over again.. watching his cock create a bulge in your mouth.

it’s not that you don’t want to look up at him, it’s just really hard when he’s shoving his entire length down your esophagus at a continuous pace. 

“i said, look-“ simon brings his hand down onto your cheek, “-at me,” he slaps you a few times, not hard.. just enough to help you regain focus. 

“god you’re doing so well for me, baby..” he wipes the mixture of your spit and his precum off of your chin and rubs it on your cheek, “taking my whole cock down your throat..” he smears the rest of the mixture against your lips before slipping his thumb into your mouth, feeling the inside of your cheeks and how soft your tongue is on his fingers. 

bringing his dick back up to rest it on your mouth, he makes sure he’s holding your head steady. “open wide for me, little girl.” 

he fucks into your mouth, thrusting at a even faster pace than before, making sure to hit every inch of your mouth and throat. he loves it when you gag and choke on him, loves it when your eyes roll back, loves it when he pulls out of your mouth and you groan and immediately try to suck him back in.

with stuttering hips, his thrusts become more sloppy and frantic as he reaches his the edge if his orgasm. “ah!- baby.. ‘m gonna cum down your throat, okay?” he says, not asking, but telling.

as soon as you hear his moans and whines becoming more and more desperate, you push yourself farther down onto his length, moaning onto him as he grips your hair yet again. throwing his head back, he stays deep within the comfiness of your throat, allowing you to attempt to swallow the last bits of his cum.

as he pulled out, you choked, coughing as he tucks himself away. kneeling down in front of you, he caresses your cheek, kissing your puffy lips and tasting himself on your tongue. “god, you did so good for me, baby.” he mutters, placing more kisses along your jaw and neck.

“maybe i should start doing what you ask more often..”

constructive criticism is appreciated !!!

[skele-bunny]

So I had talked about this with Hypnone about Dewdrop having his BPD splits usually directed towards Aether as he's Dew's FP...... Here's the ramble!:

Dew having a fp bpd split and not realizing after getting back from tour (stress trigger). Just absolutely head over heels for Aether again, idolizing everything he's doing, even smothering him with more physical affections then what he normally does, and just on this bliss train. It takes Aeth a second to figure out what's happening but it gets obvious when he's called in to the infirmary and Dew just drops

"Why? Why are you leaving me? What did I do?!" He just yelling, absolutely panicked and holding onto Aether before shoving him away, then back to holding him. "Don't leave me, please don't leave me." Cutting to "Fine! Fuck you, fucking leave and I don't want to see you!"

Aether just giving a quick callback while Dew is having a full meltdown on their bed explaining he has to deal with something more important. Just speaking calmly, going to one knee in front of Dewdrop.

"Firefly, I love you a whole bunch. I want you to realize you're splitting right now. Can you do that for me?"

"I'm not fucking splitting! I just missed you and now you're leaving me when I haven't done anything!"

Aether just takes his hand, wiping away his tears. "Yes, you are. I love you more than anything in this world and I'm not willingly leaving you. You know I'm on call for the infirmary all the time now, and I know you're upset, I know you're stressed out. I'm not invalidating anything you feel right now, okay? I already called them, I'm staying right here until you're better."

"But I don't want you to leave!"

"And why is that?"

And Dew is just hiccuping as his thought process slowly starts getting more clear and not just straight black, his hair no longer smoldering. "I... Because I just got home, and we only spent last night together. I'm not ready for you to go away..."

"I know, I don't want to leave either. Tell you what, how about this: you let me go to work for a while, and I'll tell them I need tomorrow off. No ifs-ands-or buts about it. We can spend the entire day together."

Takes a bit more reassurance as Dew starts crying again, but he finally agrees. Aether dresses him in his clothes, even putting his side of the beds pillows around him. Makes a quick trip to the kitchen and brings back Dew's snacks and drinks he loves, then a movie.

"Your job is to watch this movie, and when I get back you have to tell me about it, yeah?" He's smiling as Dewdrop nods back with his own smile.

"Yeah! I can do that."

Multiple kisses shared and more reassurances before Aether finally dips away. He gets back around 1 am, and he feels bad as Dew is still wide awake, now watching some random show that's on. He's just smiling, making grabby hands for Aether and instantly starts rambling about the movie, snuggled right on his chest as he just babbles and babbles.

"Then Phillip gets really upset and ended up firing Dell, and then as time passes he ends up being called back by Maggie because Phillip is in a really bad depression and they repair their friendship, and then it cuts to the first scene where they're getting pulled over and it just- AUGH! It was such a good movie!"

Aether is smiling the entire time and holding him, kissing his cheek. "I'm glad you liked it! It's one of my favorites. By the way, I got us dinner plans for tomorrow, sound good?"

"Yeah!" Dew just looking up with half a smile. "Thank you for... You know... Dealing with me."

"Hey, I'm not 'dealing with you', I'm loving you. That's what a husband does!"

[starkeyslover]

Gojo being jealous

"Your my baby, you know that right?" Y/N said in a baby voice as she patted her cat. Gojo was watching from the door, jealous of the attention the cat was getting.

"Oh, you are so precious" She continued on praising the cat as she patted it and gave it lots of kisses. The cat loved it too, she was purring and sitting there contentedly with her eyes closed.

"AUGH YOUR SO CUTE I CAN'T" Y/N yelled out as she took the cat and held her in her arms while kissing the cats face. Gojo pouts wishing it was him. He comes into the room and lays on his stomach in front of his girlfriend and the cat.

"I'm cute too, you know?" Gojo said in a smug voice. His girlfriend opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Toru, look at her! She is so cute and she's gotten so big!" She said showing her the cat and Gojo pouts. He can't disagree, the cat is adorable and has grown a large amount since they've gotten her. His head falls with a groan.

"Yeah yeah, dont you think shes gotten enough attention already?" Gojo whined as he looked up to his girlfriend, his beautiful blue eyes looking into hers. She laughed.

"Is somebody jealous?" Y/N said in a teasing voice. She kisses their cat and places her to the side before falling onto Gojos back, making him groan out. Y/N giggles and sits back up before rolling Gojo over and sitting on his stomach, looking down at him.

"You want my attention?" She said, mocking the voice he makes when he teases her. Gojo nodded and put his hands on her thighs. She smiled down at him, bends down and starts kissing all over his face. He smiled contentedly and squeezes her thighs, earing a giggle from her. She kisses all over his face, nose, cheeks, forehead, temple, eyes, anywhere you can imagine. Before she pulled back she finally gave him a kiss on the lips before sitting back up.

"Better?" She asked him. He pretends to think for a moment and then nods his head.

"No" he said in a smug voice. Next thing she knew, Gojo had flipped them over and her thighs were on either side of his torso. She smiled at him and he grabbed her arm and brought it to his mouth and kissed her wrist.

"What are you doing?" She asked, holding back a smile but failed.

" 'mnothing" he said as he kissed her palm. She smiles and just then their cat jumped on Y/S chest. Ruining their moment.

"I think shes jealous now" She laughed as she moved her head to look at Gojo. He had one of those frown smiles on his face.

"Can we get rid of her?"

"SATORU GOJO!"

[imsofuckinggayforwomen]

so abt ur mitsuri and obanai throuple hcs,, osjndnd i love them both and your writing sm COULD U DO A SCENARIO WHERE reader gets off without them while they were on a mission so they catch and punish her.,,

AUGH THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA OFC!!

also YALL I got a ton of requests and I’m super super greatful! I’ll get through them throughout today and the weekend, once again thanks for requesting!

warnings: Smut, fem reader, threesome, MINORS DNI

Missing them 💜

Night has fallen once again, another day without your partners has passed. Obanai and Mitsuri were sent out on a mission a few days ago, their return date still unknown.

It really worried you. You knew they were strong, but you couldn’t help tossing and turning at the thought of losing them.

Though, there were a few other reason why you were squirming around in bed. You’ve been oh so lonely as of late, longing the touch of your distant partners. You could only imagine Mitsuri’s soft lips on your skin along with obanai’s scarred hands caressing your curves…Jesus you really were touch starved.

Slowly parting your thighs, your hands began to wander across your body. Surely they wouldn’t mind if you relieved some pent up stress, right?

Pulling your shirt up, you gradually began groping yourself. Closing your eyes, you imagined your two lovers beside you, encouraging your pleasure. The mere thought of their presence had you gasping into the sheets. Since you were currently home alone, you allowed your noises to echo throughout the room.

Little did you know, the very two you were whining for had just reached your shared estate.

Mitsuri yawned and stretched her arms up as Obanai opened the door for her. “I’m so tired Iguro! I’m sure y/n is fast asleep, I can’t wait to cuddle up to her!” She said, blushing with excitement. Obanai seemed distracted, his sharp senses prickling.

The door creaked shut, and silence fell around the two. Awkwardly, she turned her head to look at her quieted lover.

“Iguro?” Mitsuri spoke. “Are you-“

“Sh.” He cut her off, placing a finger to her mouth.

Once again, the silence settled in. The pair stood still, quickly picking up on some noise from their corridors. Mitsuri raised a brow, tip toeing to the staircase.

Then she heard it, the sound of you whimpering. Her face quickly changed, melting into a softened blush. She beckoned the bandaged man over, her face flushed with surprise . He did as she motioned and walked up behind her, his ears perking at the noise. The two exchanged a glance, a smirk settled on both of their faces.

Swiftly, Mitsuri pulled Obanai up the stairs and towards the bedroom you all shared. She bounced excitedly as she walked, blushing deepening when your noises grew nearer.

Finally, the two stood outside of the door. Obanai crouched to the ground, putting kabumaru down.

“Go to sleep Kabumaru, I will see you in the morning.” He said, the snake hissing in reply. The reptile slithered away as Obanai stood once more.

Mitsuri had her ear against the door, squealing as her own name fell from your mouth. “Iguro I can’t wait anymore, I’ve missed her so much” she whined, grabbing at the door knob. Obanai had already begun undoing his facial bandages, smirking at Mitsuri’s desperate tone. “That would make two of us” he said, placing his hand on top of Mitsuri’s and pushing the door open.

The sudden sound knocked you from your trance, quickly pulling up the covers to hide your exposed body. Though, your eyes softened at the sight of your lovers. “I-Iguro, Kanroji! I didn’t know you were returning-“

“Hush” Obanai interrupted, shutting the door. “We’ve heard enough of you.”

You covered your face in shame, realizing that they had clearly heard you in the act. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t-“

Once again, you were cut off. However, this time by Mitsuri’s lips crashing into yours. You gasped into her mouth in surprise, grabbing onto her shoulders as she pressed further into you.

After what felt like eternity, she pulled away. “Y/n I missed you so much!!” She whined, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I can see that you missed us too..” Mitsuri whispered, smiling as she felt your face heat up. Her gentle hands began to slide their way down your body, occasionally pinching at your curves. You panted heavily, desperately bucking your hips up to where you wanted touched.

Mitsuri giggled at this, finally running her fingers through your folds. “My my y/n, you’re so wet!” You whined in response, arching into her touch.

Suddenly, the bed dipped and you felt someone sliding behind you. Rough fingers pulled you up, placing your back to something warm. Peeking through your kidding eyes, you turned to see obanai sitting behind you. His hands slotted down your body, taking purchase in your hips.

“Go ahead Mitsuri, have your fun.” He finally spoke, holding you in place.

The pink haired girl clapped her hands in excitement, practically throwing the covers off of your lower half. You squealed as the cold air hit your wet core, attempting to close your legs.

Mitsuri’s strong hands stopped your thighs before they could touch. “Nuh uh” she said, forcing you open. She smiled as she admired your precious parts, absolutely no ounce of shame in her eyes. Obanai peered over your shoulder, slowly reaching his hand down to spread your folds for Mitsuri.

She snapped from her trance, swiftly leveling her head with your wetness. She wasted no time lapping at your clit, instantly moaning at your taste. You squirmed and writhed in her and Obanai’s hold, choked whimpers leaving your throat.

The man behind you began to press kisses against your neck, sucking marks into any place he deemed fit. You turned your head to give him more access. You let out a startled cry when you felt teeth sink into your skin, Obanai quickly pressing kisses to the newly formed mark.

Mitsuri was relentless, not even stopping to breathe. You whimpered and whined in your lovers grasp, the overwhelming stimulation being too much.

Mid moan, a pair of fingers were shoved into your mouth. Judging by the scarred feeling, you knew they were Obanai’s.

“Calm down” He grumbled, petting Mitsuri’s head as she stayed latched onto your clit. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”

Hard on yourself? Was this some sort of punishment?

Taking advantage of your confused state, Obanai roughly forced you to face him. Before you could even gasp, his lips were on yours. Every noise you made was swallowed by his mouth. Mitsuri’s gentle yet relentless nature clashing with Obanai’s roughness only aroused you further.

Mitsuri glanced up at the two of you, slowly bringing her hand down from your thigh and closer to your entrance. Two delicate but string fingers were pushed into you, Obanai’s kiss still absorbing your surprised noises.

“Let me hear her Iguro” Mitsuri whined, her mouth finally detaching from your clit. “Please”

Obanai reluctantly pulled away from your lips, a trail of saliva still connecting the both of you.

“Anything for you dear.” He said, forcing your mouth open with his hands. Mitsuri giggled at his words, swiftly going back to her place on your core.

Along with her relentless pursuit on your sensitive bundle of nerves, her fingers began to pump in and out of you. Your back arched and a disgruntled whine left your mouth, making both Mitsuri and Obanai smile into your skin.

“Igu- K-Kanroji- please-“ You whimpered out, body twitching as your high approached. Obanai held your form down with firm hands, allowing Mitsuri to speed up her ministrations with no obstacles.

Embarrassing noises echoed across the room, though that only seemed to further encourage your lovers.

“Go on y/n, cum.” Obanai whispered into the shell of your ear.

An addicting sensation overtook your body, clouding your mind with nothing but burning pleasure. Your orgasm washed over in waves, mouth opened in a silent scream. Mitsuri’s tongue and fingers rode you through the delicious feeling, allowing your body to gradually calm.

Pulling off of you with a pop, the girl in between your legs hoisted herself up. Her chin was slick with your arousal, the sight alone made you blush.

“Would you like a taste, Iguro?” Mitsuri asked, batting her eyelashes as she slotted her head up against his. “I’d love that” Obanai replied, leaning forward to capture her into a kiss.

You panted as your two partners kissed, finally feeling content with their presence.

However, you felt a hand reaching back down towards your core.

Obanai pulled back from Mitsuri, eyeing down on you. “Don’t think we are done yet, you still have to pay for touching yourself without us.”

sorry guys this took all day to write I had to do it in small sections since I had a close friend over 🥰

However I hope you enjoyed! I’ll be getting back to the rest of the requests tonight and this weekend!!

[mouwrites]

ahem, let me redo this... (i think I did it wrong the first time) CONGRATULATIONS!!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOU!!! 500 FOLLOWERS!!?!?!?!?! star struck <3

here's the board (again...) the character i had in mind was Cole from Ninjago

(I LOVE YOU 💜💜💜💜💜💜)

AUGH OMG you're too sweet 😭😭 I love you too!!! Also.. I'm totally starstruck as well! I'm so pleased to have you all here :,)

(note: f/a = favorite (music) artist)

Word count: 1.4k

Ninjago - The Concert (Cole) (500 follower event)

“Come on Y/n, we’re going to be late!”

“You can’t be late to being early,” you protested, jogging through the halls urgently. “Where is it?”

You were looking for your jacket; it was a brand new jean jacket Cole had bought just for this concert, and you’d be darned if you left without it.

“What are you looking for?”

“The jacket… you…” You rounded a corner and came face to face with Cole, who was holding the very jacket you were looking for. Though you almost didn’t recognize it, as it had a rather radical new addition; the back was painted with f/a’s logo (or album cover, if they don’t have a logo ^^).

You slapped a hand over your mouth, partly because you were shocked, partly to stop yourself from screaming. You jumped at Cole, throwing your arms around his neck and wrapping your legs around his middle.

“Woah there!” He chuckled, fumbling with the jacket for a second before securing his arms around you. “I’ll take that as an ‘I like it’.”

“Like it?! I love it!” You gushed, squeezing him tighter. Then you let yourself drop to your feet so you could have a better look at the jacket, which Cole handed to you at last.

“Did you paint this?”

“Can you tell?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, running your fingers over the imperfect lines, “but that’s why I love it.”

Cole threw an arm around you and pulled you in to plant a quick kiss atop your head. “I’m glad. Now, we really should get going.”

“Right,” you assented, almost sad to put the jacket on because that meant you had to stop staring at it.

Cole was a seasoned concert-goer. He knew that it was best to arrive earlier than early, if not only to avoid traffic (both human and automotive), then to secure your place in the crowd. And to buy merch if the stands are open, of course.

The stadium was even bigger than you’d imagined, but as more people crowded in it seemed smaller and smaller. Soon you felt like a little brick in a huge Lego set, packed in between so many others and secured in one spot. Luckily the little brick next to you was Cole, someone you didn’t mind being this close to. You clung together, shoulder-to-shoulder, to avoid the other people surrounding you both.

The openers were pretty good, but deep down you were anxious to see your band. To be fair, you did buy the tickets to see them specifically. 

And then they finally came. The sky was quite dark by then, and the stadium lights began flashing different colors. At that moment you were certain that they were about to come out. And sure enough, there they were, rocking their best clothes for the occasion on stage.

Your hand tightened into a crushing grip around Cole’s; he was doing the same, but neither of you really noticed. You shared an overexcited glance at each other that read oh my goodness it’s them!! Are you seeing this?

Bouncing eagerly on your heels, you waited in anticipation for the music to start. The speakers blared with f/a shouting a welcome to the crowd, which you and everyone around you responded to with enthusiastic yelling. It was quite noisy, but the speakers easily overpowered the noise with the first note of a song.

Time passed way too quickly. With each new song you silently wished that the moment would last forever, only to be disappointed when it ended but to have the feeling rekindled when the next song started. Suddenly they were all your favorites; though of course you went especially wild when your actual favorite number was played. 

Dancing, screaming lyrics, waving your arms—it all came naturally to you, as if you were an animal transformed in the multicolored lights. Maybe there was something in the fog waterfalling off the stage; everyone else seemed to be affected in the same way. You often bumped shoulders with Cole as you both moved around, and sent endless innocent smiles to each other when you stepped on the other’s toes.

F/a ended up doing an encore of your absolute favorite song, earning a little squeal of delight from you. You hopped in the air, but instead of connecting back with the ground, your feet remained dangling in the air. You looked at Cole quizzically, hoping your question was obvious because there was no way he’d hear you talk above all the shouting and music. What are you doing?

Cole just gave you a reassuring smile, heaving you higher into the air and then onto his shoulders with a little “Hup!” that you could barely hear.

You squeezed one of his hands, which were holding your legs in place, in a thank-you gesture, but also in sheer excitement. You could see f/a better than ever from up there, and any guilt you had about blocking someone’s view was eased by the people subtly shifting around you so that they could still see. If the huge smiles on their faces were anything to go by, they were too excited themselves to even notice you. You could also see a number of other people sitting on their companions’ shoulders.

This time, when the song ended, you were in tears. You shouted the most affectionate farewell you could muster when f/a finally left the stage, and then the tears really started pouring.

Cole just held your hand while you walked to your ride, letting you get your feels out. He knew full well what it was like to lose it over music, and he actually cried a little during the concert, too.

Eventually you sniffed sharply, wiping your tears away for the last time. “That was amazing,” you laughed.

“I know! My voice is going to be so hoarse tomorrow.”

“Ugh, mine too… but it was worth it.”

“Totally.”

You hugged your jacket around you, defending yourself against the chilly night air that you were finally becoming aware of. A little smile came to your lips when you remembered what was painted on the back, and you stepped closer so that you and Cole were walking shoulder-to-shoulder.

“I’m so glad they did an encore,” you sighed dreamily, “and I’m glad you let me sit on your shoulders for it.”

Cole wrapped an arm around you, his hand coming to a comfortable rest on your upper arm. “Don’t mention it; I just knew you had to see better if they were doing an encore of that song. I know it’s your favorite.”

You smiled, putting one of your hands over Cole’s.

You two gushed about the concert the whole way home, adrenaline still running too high for either of you to be remotely tired. The sugary ice cream you made a pit stop for certainly didn’t help.

You particularly liked listening to Cole’s gushing; while you could express your joy through fast talking and blushing cheeks, he had an artistic way of describing the things he experienced through other experiences. He likened the colored lights to the taste of sour candy, compared the roaring crowd to the feeling of cannonballing into a surging, lukewarm ocean. Your eyes sparkled at each description he offered, and you found yourself agreeing with almost everything he said.

Single digits were on the microwave clock by the time either of you even started to wind down, but once the sleepiness found you, it hit hard. One minute you were drumming your fingers on the table trying to re-create your favorite bits, and the next you were fighting to keep your eyes open. 

“I’m sleepy,” you yawned. “But I don’t wanna sleep yet.”

“Me neither. Let’s just chill on the couch.”

“Good idea,” you smirked, lumbering over to the couch and cozying up with Cole. You planned on gushing a little more, but the feeling of his arms around you and his warm body beneath you were like a sedative. You opened your mouth to speak, but only soft breathing came out, and suddenly all went dark.

The last thing you were aware of was the feeling of lips being pressed to the top of your head. “Love you,” Cole murmured sleepily.

“Love you too,” you slurred automatically, smiling when you remembered that your jacket was still on, still looking fabulous, still holding f/a close to you. It was just you, Cole, and f/a, drifting away to sleepy bliss together.

Tysm for taking part in our event!! And thanks for reading, take care duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

[nekomanager]

.—♡ 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌!𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 {KUROO TETSUROU}

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ f!reader, married, cunnilingus, fingering, ahegao, creampie; groom!kuroo (sfw)

groom!kuroo fights the urge to slide his tongue into your mouth when it’s declared that he may now kiss his bride. He does it so in the car on the way to your reception; kisses you deeply and sucks on your tongue as his hands itch to take you out of your dress;

groom!kuroo brings your hand on his crotch under the table so you can feel how ready he is to fuck you when you’re finally alone;

groom!kuroo who, before sliding the garter out of your leg, licks and suckles a little of your flesh, giving you a teaser of what’s about to come;

groom!kuroo is a tease when you finally get into the bedroom. Kneels before you and gets inside your dress, tongue and fingers stimulating your pussy; he caresses your thigh while your other leg is draped over his shoulder as you grind against his fingers and mouth; tasting your sweet juices, you writhe above him in orgasm; with a sly grin, he looks up at you wiping his chin.

He carries you to the bed and plants tentative kisses against your neck; no longer capable to hold it anymore. He hikes up the skirt of your dress and unzips his fly; he leans down to passionately kiss you as he casts the crotch of your panties to the side and enters from you from behind. His hands are squeezing your ass and using them to maneuver your body in meeting his thrusts.

“Aaah! Tetsu...ahhh~” you cooed as he hits you deep; the tip of his cock kissing your womb. You just came and still sensitive. Your body trembles as another wave is rushimg in.

“How does it feel huh?” He groaned, and pulled out of your pussy. “How does your husband’s cock feel?” Then he slammed it all in so hard, so strong, so forceful that your eyes almost crossed as you gripped the sheets. “Tetsu–“

His hips snap wildly as your walls clench. “Fuck augh- love! You feel so fucking good–“ He almost growled as he orgasms, spilling his cum in your wifey pussy.

You both breathed heavily and he leans close to kiss you so sweetly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said.

And you feel him harden while still inside you.

groom!kuroo who almost never lets you sleep as he fucks you all night long; making love ‘til you’re both passed out in the dawn.

JOIN THE 🍷 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄! Get tagged whenever I update ♡

⏝︶︶⏝︶ ୨୧ ︶⏝︶︶⏝

© nekorei 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[solargeist]

I may have just tried to find as much evoau and xelqua content as I could find. All very lovely, took me a few hours to get through. I wanted to ask, in your au what caused the moon to fall? I think in canon there isn't really an explanation so wanted to know if the watchers caused it when they found Grian or if it just fell because. (Your au is so cool!!! Thank you for all the lovely art and stories my brain has been fed wonderfully)

oh man oh man, thank u ! Glad ur enjoying it ^_^ 🫶

Uhmmmm that’s actually something I ask myself a bit !!!! I’m not exactly sure what’s the best way to go abt the moon, I think (adult, regular) Xelqua doing it would make the most sense…

He possesses Grian after taunting him through the void/Boatem hole for awhile, making him distressed and a little bit crazy. Xelqua breaks the server code, and then pulls the moon, perhaps ? That’d get the attention of the Watchers, such chaos. (Plus the imagery mimics Majora and Ocarina, I like that.)

Back when that Moon episode first went up, I remember a lot of non-hermitcraft fans watching it like wtf is happening in hermitcraft ?? I imagine the Watchers are like that Lol.

Usuallyyyy Xelqua would help a distressed Grian out, but it doesn’t take much for him to figure out this is the one that started everything. Xelqua can see his player code and see he’s a Watcher, and can figure out the rest by context clues, so he’s just gotta mess with him. He’s still a Watcher after all, that divine sense of justice… But he does also rationalize that he IS helping Grian, these players don’t even know what he is ! Mumbo and Pearl confront Xelqua the most I think, both knowing exactly what Watchers are.

This does lead to the Watchers finding out where Grian is, and I don’t know all the details but Xelqua does fight with them and the Hermits. Aether and Flora end up there as well, since Grian was their responsibility, it’s only fair they’re alerted and asked what they want to do with him. If it were only Flora, she would’ve taken his eyes, other Watchers agree, it’s a pretty common thing to do to Listeners, but Aether gets final calls with Grian and she’s not gonna do that 😭

Otherrr stuff…. They (hermits or watchers or both) get Xelqua expelled from Grian (I have no details here), and then he escapes through the Boatem hole, a few Watchers probably go after him but it’s rly not a good idea. I think Grian and Aether get to talk. The moon is still going to fall and destroy their server, they still have to leave, Grian still has to have some sort of consequences for what happened, and he’s still exiled. They talk for a long time, Grian drags it on, almost afraid to go back and explain himself to the Hermits, he can see it clearly in his head, they’ll want to exile him too, then he really won’t have anywhere to go-

The Hermits do not exile him, he was just panicking a little bit. He’s genuinely surprised when they include him in their server escape plan. The rest goes how it goes. Tho Grian has to explain himself to them later.

The Hermits are however also banned and exiled from Watcher domaines by extension.

Xelqua follows them to s9, staying undercover for awhile just watching, they really are interesting to him. He scares the shit out of Grian when he finally decides to show himself, but ! No possession this time ! Promise !

I don’t know if any of that is lame or disappointing or not, I haven’t seen s8 in a long time and it’s something I’d like to rewatch and check other POVs, so this is just what I imagine right now, it’s probably the most difficult part of the AU for me AUGH

[instantpansies]

oughhhhhghg thinking about falsettos (proshot, by chance) again

the little detail of how jason helps push the two sides of The Cube apart while marvin and trina are talking at him in My Father's a Homo (after "i don't lead the life of a normal child"). they're pulling it apart but he's providing the final push and ough. i know it's just a bit of staging, it's probably necessary, but i will read into it anyway. marvin and trina are trying to pull him in both directions but he's pushing both of them apart and away from him. chooses neither. jumps out of The Cube before he can get pulled to either side.

also! i never noticed before somehow, but mendel pulling out trina's handkerchief in Marvin at the Psychiatrist is hilarious. of course he would. in front of marvin, no less.

and of course. Marvin Hits Trina i will never get you out of my head aughaugauh - i think it's interesting how in the proshot, trina and whizzer have different reactions to "how could you ever deny what we had" (from "we had fights and games..."). trina sounds almost venomous. that was all they had, fights and games and name-calling. (she's justified. marvin sucks.) her tone is harsh. but whizzer seems remorseful. the fights and games were part of the thrill. i mean, he says it in Thrill of First Love, right? "of all the lesser passions, we like fighting most". whizzer craves the fight - maybe because that's all he knows and that's the version of marvin he cared for at one point. i don't know. but whizzer's character is constantly talking of fighting in a more positive light, especially in act 1. trina describes "her boys" as fighting all the time, uses it as a negative epithet. trina despises the fighting.

and for both of them, that's all there really was. how could they ever deny what they had? fights and games, marvin calling them funny names, marvin playing the clown. that's all. no wonder trina left. no wonder she spends the rest of the play describing those around her in those terms, no wonder she's so tired of the childish, selfish, oblivious men surrounding her. and no wonder whizzer left. no wonder all he knows is to play games, to make no waves, to leave when asked. no wonder he doesn't flinch when marvin hits trina.

no wonder he's the one who claps to make the sound just outside the spotlight.

augh