Reqs Open - Blog Posts

wawawawa i saw ur fic reqs were open………….. could you do a sickfic of kanade and mafuyu from project sekai?

more in depth character info can be found by searching “kanade yoisaki” or “mafuyu asahina” but here’s some basics:

kanade is a composer for a music group that mafuyu is in

mafuyu lives with kanade. it’s just them in the house

kanade is very much a workaholic, and would probably be resistent to being cared for while sick (especially if it means she can’t make music)

mafuyu cares a lot about kanade, but her expressions don’t show much on her face

mafuyu’s well versed in medical knowledge and will take care of kanade no matter what

mafuyu is the lyricist for the music group

no pressure of course!!! take your time if you want to take my request

(A/N: I hope I did a decent job! Had to do some digging since I've never heard of Project Sekai before, so I apologize if anything is out of character!) As she slowly opened her weary eyes, Kanade felt the familiar weight of illness settle upon her. Her body ached, her head throbbed, and she could hardly find the motivation to even lift her head from the pillow. She'd spent another long, brutal, and hyperfocused night composing. She really knows that with her poor and immunocompromised state with the lack of sleep and proper nutrition, she should have gotten some rest the second she felt the malaise seep deep down. However, songs needed to be composed, and work needed to be done. Honami was too busy helping someone else to aid her this time, and Kanade grumbled to a sitting point. She had to save herself. "Hm." Mafuyu, however, appeared to have other plans. Mafuyu sat quietly by her bedside, with a stoic expression as she observed Kanade's condition. Despite the lack of emotion on her face, Mafuyu was deeply concerned for her friend and roommate. She knew how much Kanade dedicated herself to her music, often neglecting her own health in the process. Mafuyu had always been silently impressed by Kanade's drive and determination, but she was certainly viewing its downsides at this moment. As she gently placed her hand on Kanade's forehead, she could feel the fever that had set in overnight. "You've got a fever," Mafuyu spoke. "You've been working too hard again." "...There's really no such thing as working too hard." Kanade's voice came out weak from her scratchy throat. "There is. Now, Honami stopped by and cooked us some oats. You're going to eat them, they're good for your throat." Kanade tried to muster up a weak smile as she met Mafuyu's gaze, but even that small gesture felt like an effort in her weakened state. "I'm fine," she insisted weakly, even as her body betrayed her with a fit of coughing. Mafuyu furrowed her brow, unconvinced by Kanade's reassurances. "You're not fine," she replied firmly, her voice betraying a hint of annoyance- Annoyance that was only masking compassion. "You're sick, and you need to rest and eat." Kanade huffed in frustration, her determination to work warring with her knowledge that Mafuyu was right. "But I have so much work to do," she mumbled stubbornly, attempting to push herself upright in bed, only to be gently pushed back down by Mafuyu's stern hold. "And you'll do it poorly If you do it sick. C'mon. Oats."

HEADCANNON/SHORT FIC REQUESTS OPEN!

ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ ᴘʀᴏꜱʜɪᴘᴘᴇʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱʜɪᴘ? ꜱᴇʟꜰ-ꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ? ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʟᴏʀʙᴏ ꜰᴏʀ ꜰʀᴇᴇ? ɢᴏ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ.. ᴍʏ ᴀꜱᴋꜱ ᴅᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ.

ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍꜱ: ᴀɴʏ!!! ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ, ɪ'ᴍ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴘʟᴏʀɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ!

ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ: -ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. -ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴋ/ꜰᴇᴛɪꜱʜ ᴏʀɪᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. -ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀʟ-ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ-ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀᴋᴀ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ. -ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ. ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴇᴍᴀɴᴅꜱ. ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀ 'ʟᴏᴏᴘʜᴏʟᴇ' ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɪ'ʟʟ ʜᴏɴᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ.

ᴇxᴀᴍᴘʟᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴄꜱ/ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ꜰɪᴄꜱ: -ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ -ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ -ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ʜᴄꜱ, "ʜᴇʏ ʜᴏᴡ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ x ꜰᴇᴇʟ ɪꜰ ʏ ᴅɪᴅ ᴢ" / ᴀᴜ ʜᴄꜱ -ᴀɢᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴄɢʟʀᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ -ꜱɪᴄᴋꜰɪᴄꜱ -ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴏʀɪᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ -"ʜᴏᴡ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ x ꜰᴇᴇʟ ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ (ᴢ)"

ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇꜱ: ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰʟᴜᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ꜰʀᴇɴᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ. ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʀᴜꜱᴛʏ ʜᴇʙʀᴇᴡ, ʀᴜꜱᴛʏ ꜱᴘᴀɴɪꜱʜ, ʀᴜꜱᴛʏ ɪᴛᴀʟɪᴀɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴜꜱᴛʏ ʀᴜꜱꜱɪᴀɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟʟʏ ꜰʟᴜᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ꜰʀᴇɴᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇꜱ.

Asra Alnazar x reader - Intimacy before and after

Summary: just some headcanons that came to my mind about Asra<3

Warning: smuttt, but nothing crazy tho, there are mostly mentions or hints of smut, nothing specifically described (it’s mostly just angst tbh). There are also SPOILERS for Asra’s route and the Arcana plot in general, so if you haven’t finished playing it I suggest you don’t read this post. 

A/N: just to specify, reader is wrote as non-binary:) Also, this is the first smuttish thing I write, so feedbacks and advices are very much welcome<3<3

Asra has always been a passionate lover. It’s just the way he is, his body can’t help but follow the intensity of feelings his soul feels, and transfer it from the level of the soul to the level of the body

When he first met you, it was almost as if a wave washed over him, depriving him of balance, and he could find it once again in the feeling of you and your body, pressed against him

Passion mixes with intensity and haste the first times the two of you have sex. His every movement is a physical demonstration of  just how deep, how powerful, his feelings for you are

Once the two of you are done, you’re left breathless, legs shaking and sore, sweat covering your body, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. You’re spent in the best way possible

It starts to change during the beginning of the Red Plague. The deep empathy you feel for the people dying in the streets, the desire to do something to help, takes all your desires to feel pleasure (or anything joyful for that matter), replacing it with the urge to help as many as you can

You start growing distant from each other, the atmosphere in the shop becomes tense, the interactions between you and Asra are short and almost void of any emotion. You start visiting the castle more often, volunteering to help doctor Devorak in finding a cure for this Plague. It comes without say that sex wasn’t really in neither of your minds

And it only becomes worse after your death. Asra feels that same wave washing over him, but this time he doesn’t welcome the feeling of it. It make feel lost, knowing that the very person he used to hold on to, the only one that made him forget the rest of the world, and just give into the pleasure the wave brought

This wave brings grief, desperation. Hell, it even brings hallucinations to some point. He can’t make out what’s real and what’s fake, he can’t discern when he’s dreaming and when he’s awake

It’s at this point that his situationship with Julian starts. We all know just how toxic it was, for the both of them. But Julian needed to feel love in these dreadful times, and Asra needed to feel that same feeling of grounding to save him from the power of that wave

It wasn’t the same as you, he knew that very well. Julian couldn’t fill the void of love Asra felt, he could only satisfy his carnal desires, give him that brief high that, for just a moment, made him forget everything that was happening in his life, his losses, his mistakes, his regrets

But not much time passes before that high becomes unsatisfying, and the guilt of what he’s doing takes over him. How can he do this with Julian, when all he’s thinking of is you? How can he deem himself worthy of having you once again in his arms, when instead of keeping the void you left empty, awaiting for your return, he filled it with someone else, someone not even comparable to you in his eyes?

That’s when the weird relationship between Asra and Julian ends, when Asra conveys all his energies and time in finding a way to get you back

At first, there was nothing in his mind when it came to you other than gratitude to have you back along with the utmost care to tend to you, to comfort you when you were in pain or scared at whatever appeared new to you after you came back. Your mind was at the same level as one of a child, there was no desire in Asra other than to have you back as you were

As time goes by, and you regain the aspects of the person you once were, that desire, that wave of passion, starts to awaken once again in him

And then after years of longing for the feeling of you’re touch, of your body pressed against him, he once again can feel that same feeling of euphoria once your bodies merge once again. Only that this time, his demeanor has changed. There’s a different kind of intensity in his actions

There’s not the feverish haste in his movements anymore; instead, he takes his sweet time kissing you, caressing your body, worshipping you as if you were some sort of deity. He holds you as if you’d disappear in his arms if he loosens his grip too much

His thrusts are slow and deep, making that wave of pleasure that’s in him fall into you too. It makes you feel a deeper kind of pleasure, one with such forse that it has you detached from reality once you reach your high, it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and it makes you only desire to hold Asra closer, to have him deeper inside you. You almost wish you could become one

There are still times where you have fast, rough sex, one that ends quickly and leaves you both breathless and spent. But you just prefer to feel that deeper connection, the one that has you longing for more, that morphs into endless hours of just holding each other. It makes you both feel as if time has stopped, and there’s no one else in the world but you two

hey yall, my friend js started doing requests too! send in an ask for her and she'll do it 😋

Heyyy!

hey guys! So I’m thinking of writing on tumblr (I use ao3) so here’s what I’ll write for.

Creepypasta IT 2018

SDV

JATP

and many more. I kinda just pulled those out of my ass lol. Just request and I’ll tell you if I can do it :)

I miss the joy of writing i'm lacking motivation for it. I can't even do my assessments.

I want to feel the words flowing from my brain to paper.

I want to see all the characters come alive in my head.

I want to be able to escape this life and write another.

I want to see my favourte charates have their happy ending they desver.

I want ideas to become reality.

LF REQUESTS OF LIKE ANYTHING IM SO DRAINED OF IDEAS writing, doodles, bases, moodboards, pngart or whatever its called, game ratings?? maybe even animal ratings??? idek anymore i just wanna do smthin to get my mind busy

Hahfis

I never shared the sketch... My godly memory fails me!

Finished the sketch for dreamcatcher :]! Just thought id let u know lol

Can't wait to show you!

TY SO MUCH!!! I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE!

Your dragon ocs (or faves!) Hand em over!

Might just find the energy to draw them :]

HEYOOOO!!

If any one of you's would like to send me asks or requests for some deep literature, FEEL FREE TO DO SO!!

I've noticed that I haven't really been posting much on here, and I want to do that more before tge exams that are coming up in June, so I'd greatly appreciate some ideas <3

Thank you!!

Hello my stars! Sorry I’ve been gone for so long :,) but it is now summer and have too much time so please give me all requests you want!^^

Fandoms I will write for

Supernatural (platonic and romantic)

- Team free will

-Jack

-Crowley

-Rowena

-all the arch angels but Raphael

The black phone (platonic or romantic)

- dead boys crew

-Finney and Gwen Blake

Yurri voice (platonic or romantic)

- Everyone but Derek

(I couldn’t find a gif sorry, my stars🥲)

What I won’t write

Smut

Yandere

Hurt no comfort

Abuse

Piss or shit kinks

Child x adult (romantic)

Cis Fem readers

What I will write

Child x adult (PLATONIC)

Trans fem and masc readers

Male readers

Hurt with comfort

And pretty much anything else

Preferences for requests

Try to be at least a little specific in what you want and some story stuff you want ^^

That’s all my stars! Have fun requesting, make sure you drink water, eat food, and have a lovely day my stars!⭐️

SOME NEWS!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I'm currently doing requests!! Please look at the REQUEST PAGE to know what to request for! BOOKS? Some of you may know that I have a wattpad account! And I recently started two new fanfictions! One is about my Oc, Haruka Nixella! (Yes I did give him my name) and his life! It's named Shine of Hope! And the other one is for My Hero Academia lovers! A Male Reader story but! It's Vigilante, Male reader! It's named A Drop of Blood! Please check out both of them! I would really like the support <33 If you're looking for more of a original fiction made by me, I do have a series called The Dark Force still in progress! The characters are already introduced as well as the prologue! Please check it out!!

Free Asexual Alastor, Lesbian Charlie, and Pansexual Lucifer profile pics, made by me. Just ask and credit! :3

I take requests as well!

First request: Bi and trans Vox profile pic!

I am busting this wheel out again. I am opening my requests and this time I ask if you guys can request from my silly little prompt list I made

I may bust out Mr. Peabody next

hmmm salvis please nowwww wife pleaseeee ill cook you pizza tonight..........

There you go baby!! thank you for the pizza in advance lolz!! I love you lots! <3333

us? :3c

Hello estimated lover,

I want to formally apologise for my last question, for it was very inappropriate and petulant.

May I request more fanart of the acclaimed series Five Nights At Freddy's HighSchool?

Thank you very much in advance,

Your spouse.

QUE SI QUE ERES MUY GRACIOSO (I love you so damn much!!) :3c

ANYWAYS!! there you go! Some BxB because I know that you didn't click the yaoi skip button when watching fnafhs (gay, eres muy gay)

wife i want more fnafhs please please pleaseeeeee

PUEDES SER NORMAL!?!?!? POR QUÉ ERES ASI!?!?/LH

Te quiero mucho<33

Another day another request!! Yippe!! thanks to @jessica199616 for their request!! I had a bunch of fun drawing your OCs they're so silly and whimsical! :3c

Hello! Is there a particular way you'd like art request to be sent? Ask or DM message? Are OCs allowed or fandom characters only? thank you for the answers!

Depends on the complexity of the request, if someone just wants a quick sketch or simply a character (from a fandom) then feel free to send it to me through an ask but if you want something more complex or even your own OCs then I'd prefer through my DMs so we can discuss it further!! :3c

joey explaining to reigen what yugioh cards are, aren't they so silly!! :3c special thanks to @princeasimdiya12 for the request!! it was really fun to draw!

the lil guys are doneeee

request are open :) for ocs or art or lil guys

Ocs belong to @arrxdrawinffourlive and @foxundermoon

request by @welcometo-blackspace

ur oc is beautiful and so fun to draw :)

hey i loveee your stufff . really amazing. do you think you could do a yaku x female reader NSFW? you really dont have to . all loveee ☺️

Hiiii thank you for reading hehehe

Also, I'd love to 😩

Enjoy <333

--

Anon Asks: Yaku (NSFW)

You hadn’t expected Morisuke to be like this.

Not when you first started dating. Not when he’d leaned against the lockers with that sharp tongue and tight jaw, the kind of guy who made jabs at your clumsiness and then lingered a little too long when he thought you weren’t looking. He wasn’t the flirty type. He didn’t flirt—he challenged.

So you gave it right back.

At first, it was banter. Sidelong glances. Him stealing the last protein bar from your bag. You calling him a pest under your breath when he caught your stumble in practice and wouldn’t stop grinning for the rest of the week. You weren’t even sure when it started to feel like something else.

But the first time he kissed you—short, hard, like he couldn’t help himself—you felt it.

Tension. Power. A pressure right under the skin.

And what surprised you most was how fast that pressure exploded the second the door shut behind you.

You didn’t remember how you ended up against the wall, just the way his hands gripped your thighs and hauled you up like you weighed nothing. The sound of the towel hitting the floor. The warm thud of your back against tile. And the way he looked at you—really looked at you—like he was done talking. Like he was ready to prove a point.

“Morisuke—” you gasped as his mouth brushed your collarbone, teeth grazing your skin before he lined himself up and pushed in.

The stretch was instant and overwhelming. Sharp, fast, brutal in the best way. Your head tipped back, mouth falling open in a wordless cry as your legs tightened around his waist. He felt everywhere. Deep, filling, steady in a way that made your entire body light up.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. His breathing was rough, his jaw clenched tight, his arms flexed as he adjusted your weight with practiced control.

You clung to him, nails dragging across his back.

He started moving, and your breath caught.

Tight, efficient thrusts, the kind that lifted you up and slammed you back down—over and over—with a rhythm so controlled it bordered on cruel. One hand held your thigh in a vice grip. The other pressed into the base of your spine, anchoring you while he drove into you with focused, brutal precision.

The slap of skin echoed sharply against the tile, water steaming around you from the still-running shower you’d forgotten to shut off. The air was wet, heavy, fogged with heat, but nothing was hotter than him—than the fire under his skin, the muscles straining against yours, the sheer force of his focus.

You buried your face in his shoulder, gasping into his skin, trying to keep the sounds in.

“Mori—fuck, I can’t—”

His grip tightened.

“You can,” he said, voice barely more than a breath. “You already are.”

You were. Falling apart in his arms. Your thighs burned. Your stomach clenched. Your mouth couldn’t form real words anymore—just moans and broken sobs of his name. You were trembling, barely hanging on.

And then he adjusted.

Just a small shift—his hips angled higher, deeper—and your gasp cracked into a cry.

“Right there?” he rasped, voice wrecked but smug. “Yeah. I know.”

You nodded—or tried to. Your head was tipped back, hair clinging to your damp forehead, and your body was too far gone to do anything but take it.

Then his thumb found your clit.

The pressure was firm, steady. Unrelenting.

You shattered.

The orgasm tore through you so hard it knocked the breath from your lungs. Your body locked up, every nerve alight, your walls clenching around him so tight he nearly buckled.

You cried out, voice cracking, thighs quaking in his arms.

He swore—sharp and raw—and shoved into you harder, hips grinding in deep as he came with a guttural sound against your neck. He spilled inside you, fingers bruising into your skin, his chest pressed flush to yours like he needed to keep you pinned there forever.

You didn’t come down—you just collapsed. All of you. Muscles limp, lungs empty, brain blank.

He held you up like it was nothing.

Didn’t let go.

Just stood there, still inside you, your legs tight around his waist, his mouth pressed against your jaw.

“Morisuke,” you whined, too soft, too shaken.

He kissed your cheek. Then your temple. Then lower.

With a voice hoarse and wrecked, he breathed against your skin, “Say that again.”

You did.

And his hands started to move again.

Because Morisuke wasn’t even close to done.

Hear me out. Giving bokuto or ushijima their first bj in their early 20s. They’re just so busy all the time and once they finally meet you, how do you think It would go down?

You've been heard and its fantastic lolol

I hope you enjoy my love <333

--

Anon Ask: Bokuto (NSFW)

The door creaked open, and Bokuto stepped inside with a quiet, exhausted sigh. His duffel bag was slung over one broad shoulder, and his varsity jacket hung haphazardly off him, half-zipped like he hadn’t even bothered to fix it. His hair was still damp from a post-practice shower, curling slightly at the ends, and the faint scent of soap and something distinctly him wafted across the room.

When he spotted you sitting cross-legged on the edge of his bed, his whole face changed. The tension in his shoulders softened, and a slow, sleepy smile spread across his lips.

"Hey," he said, voice rough and warm from hours of practice. "Didn't expect you to wait up."

You shrugged lightly, trying to keep it casual even though your heart squeezed at the sight of him—tired, flushed, and somehow still so beautiful. "Missed you," you admitted.

His smile deepened, fondness glowing in his golden eyes. Dropping his bag by the door, he kicked off his shoes with a lazy nudge and trudged over to you.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he collapsed beside you with a soft grunt, leaning heavily against you. His head found its way to your shoulder, his body curling toward you instinctively, seeking your warmth like a magnet.

"I'm so tired," he mumbled, words slurring slightly against your shirt.

You threaded your fingers through his damp hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He melted instantly, a low, content hum vibrating from his chest.

"Poor baby," you teased gently, though your heart ached with how worn down he was. He always gave everything—on the court, in class, with his teammates. There was never anything left for himself.

He huffed a quiet laugh against you. "Missed you too, y'know."

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

For a while, you just sat there, letting him soak in your presence. You could feel the weight of his exhaustion, the way his body sagged against yours, trusting you to hold him up.

After a long moment, you shifted slightly, your hand trailing down from his hair to cup his cheek, tilting his face up to look at you.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, lips slightly parted. So open. So vulnerable.

You leaned in, kissing him softly at first, your lips brushing over his in a slow, lingering touch. Bokuto sighed into your mouth, his large hands finding your waist, gripping you gently like he couldn’t bear not to touch you.

The kiss deepened naturally, lazy and warm, until you were shifting to straddle his lap, feeling the solid weight of him beneath you. Your hands slid down his chest, over the faint ridges of his stomach, until they hovered at the waistband of his jeans.

When your fingers brushed the growing tent forming there, he gasped softly against your mouth, hips jerking up slightly into your palm.

You pulled back just enough to look at him—his cheeks flushed, pupils wide, breathing shallow.

The thought struck you all at once. A way to take care of him. To give him something back.

"Let me take care of you tonight," you whispered.

Confusion flickered across his face. "You don't have to—"

You silenced him with another kiss, even deeper this time, pouring everything you felt into it—all the longing, all the tenderness, all the need.

When you pulled back, his breath caught audibly. His pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed a soft pink.

You slid off the bed and knelt between his legs, resting your hands lightly on his thighs.

His breath hitched. "Wait—you… you don't—"

"I want to," you murmured, voice steady, fingers tracing slow circles against the thick muscle of his thighs.

Bokuto looked like he wanted to argue, but the words caught in his throat. He nodded instead, swallowing hard.

You reached for the button of his jeans, popping it open with deft fingers. His breathing grew ragged as you tugged the zipper down, his cock straining against the fabric.

When you freed him, he was already hard, twitching slightly under the cool air and your intense gaze.

You smiled up at him—gentle, reassuring—and leaned in to press a soft kiss against the head of his cock.

He gasped, his hips jerking slightly before he forced himself to stay still, fists clenching in the blanket.

"Holy shit," he whispered, voice barely a breath.

You took your time, trailing kisses down his length, licking slow, teasing stripes along the underside. Every little sound he made—the sharp inhales, the choked-off moans—made your stomach flutter.

When you finally wrapped your lips around him, sinking down slowly, his whole body shuddered.

"F-Fuck…" he whimpered, head tipping back against the bed, throat working as he swallowed thickly.

You set a slow, steady rhythm, bobbing your head while your hand stroked what your mouth couldn't reach. Your free hand stayed firm on his thigh, feeling every tremor, every tiny twitch.

Bokuto was a mess almost immediately, biting his lip hard enough to turn his knuckles white, trying desperately to keep quiet. His hips jerked despite himself, tiny, helpless movements you easily accommodated.

When you glanced up at him, the sight nearly undid you—his flushed cheeks, the glassy sheen in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were something holy.

"I'm gonna…" he panted, voice breaking. "Gonna cum… if you…"

The desperate edge in his voice made something snap inside you.

You moaned softly around him, then picked up the pace—bobbing your head faster, taking him deeper with each stroke. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, twisting gently at the base as you sucked harder, tongue flicking against the sensitive underside.

Bokuto cried out, head falling back against the bed, chest heaving with ragged breaths. His thighs tensed under your palms, muscles trembling as he fought to keep himself grounded.

"F-Fuck, baby…" he gasped, voice cracking, hips jerking up despite himself. "I'm… I'm—"

With a shuddering groan that was almost a whimper, Bokuto came hard, hips stuttering helplessly as he spilled hot and heavy into your mouth. You swallowed carefully, easing him through it, the sounds he made—broken, vulnerable—searing themselves into your memory.

You kept your movements slow and gentle until he sagged back against the bed, completely spent, every muscle in his body quivering with the aftermath.

When you finally pulled back, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, you looked up at him through your lashes.

He stared down at you like you’d personally rewritten the laws of physics, wide-eyed and flushed, chest still rising and falling rapidly.

"You're…" he croaked, still breathless. "You're amazing."

You climbed back onto the bed, and Bokuto immediately dragged you into his arms, cradling you against his chest like he never wanted to let you go.

"Stay," he whispered, voice raw.

"Wasn't planning on leaving," you murmured against his skin, pressing a kiss to his racing heart.

He held you tighter, burying his face in your hair, soaking in your warmth, your presence—everything he’d missed without even realizing it.

And for once, there was nowhere else either of you needed to be.

where are you bae imy 💔

BAE FEAR NOT I'VE RETURNED

apologies I took a couple days to recuperate from the hellish time that is exam season lolol I'm back and writing like normal :D

thank you for the ask <33

Office hook up with kuroo 🤤

Hi Anon!! Thank you so much for sending in this request — it was genuinely so much fun to write! 😭

Enjoy<333

--

Anon Ask: Kuroo (NSFW)

The office was eerily quiet, save for the low, steady hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Rows of desks stretched out in neat, darkened lines, papers stacked, chairs pushed in, computer monitors black and still. The occasional ticking sound from the wall clock echoed faintly in the wide, open space, amplifying just how empty it really was.

You pushed open the door to Kuroo’s private office, balancing two takeout bags in your hands like a peace offering.

"Dinner's here, workaholic," you called, voice cutting through the stillness.

Inside, Kuroo looked up from behind his desk. He was hunched over some paperwork, hair even messier than usual—wild tufts sticking up from where he'd clearly dragged his fingers through it. His tie hung loose around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. Dark shadows smudged under his golden eyes, but when he spotted you standing there, his whole face shifted.

The tension in his shoulders eased. The corner of his mouth curved into a slow, lazy smile.

You made your way inside, carefully setting the bags down on the edge of his desk, nudging aside a stack of folders to make room. The rich, savory scent of your order wafted up between you, warm and inviting.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out long legs under the desk, lacing his fingers behind his head with a low, satisfied groan. His eyes never left you—watching you with a smoldering kind of patience.

"Wow, must be my lucky night," he said, voice a rough, playful rumble.

You rolled your eyes as you started unpacking the food. "Yes, bask in my generosity. You owe me dinner and maybe dessert."

He chuckled under his breath, pushing up from his chair with a heavy, purposeful kind of movement. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, veins prominent along his forearms. He looked both exhausted and predatory—and somehow, devastatingly good.

He walked around the desk slowly, almost leisurely, but there was a weight to it. A coil of energy you could feel tightening between you with each step.

"You bringing me dinner... wearing that?" His gaze skimmed shamelessly over you, lingering at your legs, the snug fit of your jacket. "Dangerous."

You huffed, smoothing down your coat self-consciously. "Calm down, corporate Romeo. It’s just jeans and a jacket."

He smirked, dipping his head slightly as he stepped closer, voice dropping to a rough whisper. "Still dangerous."

You shook your head, scoffing lightly, but your pulse betrayed you, skipping when he closed the last of the distance. His presence was overwhelming—the subtle scent of his cologne, the heat radiating off his skin.

He stopped just short of touching you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His fingers flexed slightly at his sides, like he was barely holding himself back.

"You know what I've always wanted to do?" he said, voice low and rough.

You raised an eyebrow, shooting him a dry look as you finished unpacking the containers. "Please don't say ‘work overtime,’ because I'm not into that."

Kuroo chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. He leaned down slightly, close enough that you felt his breath against your ear.

"Always thought about bending you over my desk," he murmured. "Right here. After hours. When no one's around to hear you."

You blinked at him, deadpan. "You're disgusting."

But your body—traitorous as ever—leaned in, just a little. Your pulse kicked up, a warmth blooming low in your stomach.

"You love it," he teased, fingers brushing lightly against your waist, the touch barely there but searing.

You scoffed, stepping back half a pace, bumping lightly into the desk. "And here I thought you were a professional, Kuroo-san."

"I am professional. I'm professionally fantasizing about you," he quipped, tilting his head, that lazy grin deepening.

You fought the smile tugging at your lips, trying to maintain the upper hand, but it was useless. Especially when he stepped closer again, boxing you in, the edge of the desk biting into the backs of your thighs.

"Tetsu, seriously," you said, palms flattening against his chest when he closed the distance, feeling the steady thump of his heart under your touch. "I literally just brought you food."

"Exactly," he said simply, hands skimming up your sides, slow and coaxing. His thumb traced lazy, hypnotic circles against your hipbone. "And now I'm starving for something else."

"You're impossible," you muttered, even as your hands fisted weakly in his shirt.

"And you're stalling," he murmured back, his voice thick, heated.

You opened your mouth—but nothing came out.

Instead, you grabbed a handful of his loosened tie and yanked him down into a kiss, slow and burning, full of everything you hadn't said.

The takeout bags hit the floor with a muffled thud.

Kuroo groaned low in his throat, one hand sliding up your thigh, hitching your leg around his waist as he walked you back, pressing you flush against the edge of the desk.

You parted your lips under his without hesitation now, tugging him impossibly closer, deepening the kiss until your heads spun.

"Fuck, look at you," he rasped, breaking the kiss just long enough to tug your coat down your arms and toss it somewhere unseen. "So fucking pretty for me."

You whined when his hands found the hem of your jeans, pushing it down your hips with slow, deliberate pressure.

He lifted you onto the desk, scattering papers and pens with zero care. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively, your body already humming in anticipation.

The kiss broke again when he mouthed down your throat, rough and reverent all at once. Your head fell back with a soft, shuddering breath, heart hammering so hard it echoed in your ears.

"Still think I'm disgusting?" he teased against your skin, voice dark and amused.

"Absolutely," you managed, breathless. *"Now shut up and fuck me, Kuroo."

His answering growl vibrated against your throat.

And then he was undoing his belt with one hand, the other keeping you pinned exactly where he wanted you—laid out across his desk, messy, panting, and entirely his.

The desk beneath you creaked softly as Kuroo pressed your front down against the cool surface, one hand splayed firmly between your shoulder blades, keeping you there. His body loomed behind you, solid and hot, while he dragged his other hand down the curve of your spine, slow and possessive.

Your jeans were tugged halfway down your thighs, tangled around your knees. His fingers brushed teasingly over the waistband of your underwear, snapping it lightly before hooking them and sliding them down too, baring you completely to him.

You squirmed under his touch, hips canting back instinctively, seeking more.

“You're still overdressed,” he muttered, voice rough as he leaned over you, his breath hot against the shell of your ear.

You barely managed a breathless huff before his fingers slid between your thighs, finding you slick and ready. He groaned low in his chest.

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped. “Already so fucking wet.”

You whimpered when he teased your entrance with two fingers, circling lazily but never giving you the pressure you craved.

“Tetsu,” you gasped, writhing under him.

He finally pushed in—one thick finger first, curling expertly, then another, scissoring them slowly to open you up. The stretch was delicious, just shy of overwhelming.

Your forehead rested against the cool desk, your fingers curling against the smooth surface.

Kuroo’s free hand stroked down your back, soothing, grounding you as he worked you open, coaxing soft, broken sounds from your lips.

When he withdrew his fingers, you whimpered at the loss—but then you heard the sound of his belt unfastening, the metallic clink sharp in the heavy silence of the office.

You twisted your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye—his flushed face, the way he pumped himself slowly, slicking his cock with your wetness still clinging to his fingers.

He lined himself up behind you, the head of his cock dragging through your folds in a slow, maddening tease.

“Say you want it,” he murmured.

“I want it- I want it please,” you choked out, voice shaky with need.

He didn’t make you wait.

With one steady thrust, he pushed into you, the stretch stealing the air from your lungs. He filled you completely, bottoming out with a low, wrecked groan.

He stilled for a moment, both hands braced on your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin.

“You feel…” he muttered, voice ragged. “You feel so fucking good.”

You nodded weakly, pushing back against him, desperate for him to move.

He took the hint.

He pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, before thrusting back in with enough force to jolt your body forward on the desk. Papers fluttered to the floor, but neither of you cared.

Kuroo found a brutal rhythm, each snap of his hips making the desk creak under the force of it. His tie swung loose from his collar, occasionally brushing against your lower back with each rough thrust.

The sounds—skin slapping, your broken gasps, his low, breathless curses—echoed obscenely in the otherwise empty office.

“Mine,” he growled, fucking into you harder now, faster, one hand sliding up your back to fist gently in your hair, tugging your head back so he could kiss the nape of your neck, teeth grazing your skin.

“Yours,” you gasped, knuckles white where you gripped the desk.

The coil in your stomach tightened impossibly fast, your orgasm building with every relentless drive of his hips.

“Come for me,” he panted against your ear. “Let me feel you.”

A few more thrusts and you shattered—clenching around him, crying out his name in a broken, wrecked moan. Your body trembled under him, your release washing over you in thick, hot waves.

He fucked you through it, groaning low in his throat at the way you squeezed him so tight it bordered on painful.

With a final, stuttering thrust, he came hard, spilling inside you with a rough curse, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he rode out the aftershocks.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your mingled breathing, the soft rustle of clothes, and the distant rain tapping against the windows.

Kuroo pressed a lazy kiss between your shoulder blades, hands smoothing down your sides in a rare, tender gesture.

“Best… dinner pickup… ever,” he panted against your skin.

You let out a breathless laugh, still half folded over the desk, utterly wrecked.

“You’re… buying dessert,” you managed, voice hoarse.

He chuckled, pulling your jeans up slowly, helping you dress with lingering touches.

“Anything you want, babe,” he said, kissing the back of your neck again, utterly unbothered by the mess around you—completely consumed by you, and only you.

hello lovely!! I hope ur doing well! I’ve been to gobbling up all your writing recently and I just wanted to say that you’re so talented! Your ability to accurately characterize, well, the characters is so important and it’s just overall fantastic. Please keep up the good work!! <33

I wanted to request Sugawara — possibly taking care of the reader when they’re sick? Or maybe period pains? Either works, I really don’t mind! There’s not a lot of Suga writing on tumblr as a whole (that I’ve been able to find), and I’d like to see you work your magic! Thank youuu!

Hi sweet anon!! 🥹💛 Thank you so much for your kind words — They genuinely mean the world to me. I’m so happy you’re enjoying the writing!! Hopefully this is want you pictured in your head hehe

Enjoy<333

--

Anon Asks: Sugawara

The door creaked open before you could even lift your head from the couch.

"Hey, you should be resting," came Sugawara’s voice—soft, teasing, but edged with concern. The sound of it washed over you like a balm, even as your body rebelled against every small movement.

You grunted in response, curling deeper into the fortress of blankets you'd made for yourself. Every inch of your body ached with a dull, persistent throb. Your head pounded in time with your heartbeat, and your stomach twisted and cramped unpleasantly, making you feel heavy and brittle all at once.

Koushi set the grocery bag down with a soft thud, the rustling of plastic filling the room as he moved around. You cracked one eye open to find him methodically unpacking supplies: herbal teas, a box of your favorite crackers, a heating pad, a fresh bottle of painkillers, and—to your complete and utter dismay—a small bouquet of daisies.

“You didn’t have to,” you croaked, voice hoarse.

He shot you a look over his shoulder, eyebrow arched in a way that immediately made you feel silly for even suggesting it. “You’re right,” he said lightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”

You huffed, burrowing deeper into the blanket, trying—and failing—to hide the way your face flushed. Whether it was from embarrassment or overwhelming gratitude, you weren’t sure.

Sugawara padded over, kneeling down so you were eye-level. His hand, warm and slightly calloused from years of volleyball, brushed against your forehead. Gentle, steady.

“Still warm,” he murmured, his brows knitting together in a tiny frown. “Poor thing.”

You cracked a weak smile, the motion tugging at the ache in your temples. “I’m fine, really,” you mumbled.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, clearly not believing a word of it.

Without asking, he cracked open one of the heat packs, giving it a firm shake until it warmed to life. He slipped it under the blanket, pressing it against your lower abdomen with slow, careful movements. A soft, involuntary sigh slipped past your lips as the warmth seeped into your cramping muscles.

He smiled at that, eyes crinkling in that boyish, heart-melting way he had.

“There’s my girl,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t catch it over the gentle thrum of the rain starting outside.

Sugawara busied himself preparing tea—the comforting clatter of the kettle, the soft clink of a spoon stirring honey into a mug—all while stealing glances at you every few moments. Watching. Making sure you didn’t strain yourself.

When he returned, he slid onto the couch beside you, coaxing you upright just enough to press the steaming mug into your hands.

“Easy,” he murmured, one hand steadying the cup with you. “Small sips.”

You obeyed, too tired to argue, the warmth from the tea and his touch making the ache behind your eyes begin to loosen.

Once the tea was safely set aside on the coffee table, he didn’t retreat back to his corner. Instead, he carefully pulled you into his arms, arranging you across his lap with an ease that made your heart ache. His hands found your lower back almost immediately, working slow, tender circles into the tense muscles there.

The world outside faded. The rain against the windows softened into a background hum. Your muscles remained sore, but the sharp edges of your pain dulled—replaced by the steady, grounding beat of Koushi’s heart against your ear, the rise and fall of his breathing, the feeling of being wrapped up in something—someone—solid and sure.

Your hands tightened weakly in the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, voice cracking from the weight of everything you were too tired to say properly.

He only squeezed you tighter, thumb stroking lazy, soothing patterns across your hip.

“Always,” he murmured.

And as your eyes fluttered closed, your body giving in to the exhaustion at last, you realized: with Koushi here, you could finally let yourself rest.

Truly, completely, safely rest.

hey i wanted to request a fic, but before i request i wanted to say that i really enjoy your fics. there's something about them that makes me read them even when theyre about characters i dont often care much about. also, when i write i often stick to my couple of faves, but your fics have me thinking that maybe it'd do me good to practice writing a variety of different characters.

im not as prolific as you though hahaha

ok and now for my incredibly self-indulgent request because my #1 favorite is Mr. Perfect Kita, can i request a fic about Kita wooing/asking out a Reader who is intimidated by him?? pretty please, and thank you? hehe

i also am curious if there's any character you prefer writing about compared to the rest

have a lovely day! :)

Anon, you are far too kind — thank you so much for your kind words!! it genuinely means the world to me 🥹

Also: you should totally experiment with writing new characters!! it’s legit eye opening (after writing fav positions for Hinata, I can't stop looking at him differently 😭)

Also also, but favourite three characters to write for are Tsukishima (my first love) Iwaizumi and Atsumu for sure. They've stolen my heart ughhh.

ANYWAYS ENJOY <333

--

Anon Ask: Kita

There was something about Kita Shinsuke that made your stomach twist—and not in the butterflies, schoolgirl-crush way you wished it did.

No, it was worse than that. It was the intimidation.

Because Kita was perfect. He was composed, kind, respectful, disciplined. He woke up early, always got top marks, captained the volleyball team with quiet command, and still managed to hold the door open for every single person who walked through it. He was the kind of person who turned in his assignments a week early, whose uniform never had a wrinkle, whose silences were never awkward but intentional.

And you? You were just... there. Always a few steps away. Always too nervous to make eye contact, let alone conversation.

You shared a class with him—sat three rows behind, diagonally to the left—and you could probably count on one hand how many times you'd actually spoken to him. Mostly because every time his steel-gray eyes swept past you, your breath would catch in your throat.

That expression of his—steady, unreadable, unwavering—it made your nerves twist up in knots. It wasn't that he looked mean. It was that he looked like he saw everything.

So when he approached you after school one day, just before he headed off to volleyball practice, your brain completely short-circuited.

He stopped in front of your desk as you were packing up, casting a soft shadow over your notes. When you looked up, he was standing there with perfect posture, his uniform blazer unbuttoned but still crisp, and a small box held gently in both hands.

"Hey," he said, voice quiet but clear. "Can I speak to you a moment?"

You blinked up at him like he’d spoken another language, then scrambled to nod. "Y-Yeah. Of course."

He gestured subtly toward the hallway. You followed him, still clutching your books, your heart thudding in your ears. The corridor was mostly empty now, sunlight from the high windows painting long lines across the floor.

He turned to face you just outside the classroom, gaze even but calm.

Then, gently, he extended the box toward you.

"I put together a few things you might like. I hope that’s alright."

You stared at the box, then at his face, then back again. "Wait... what?"

The box was neat, wrapped in soft brown paper and tied with twine. Inside, you found your favorite snacks, a new set of pens in the exact shade you always used, a mini notebook with the design you'd admired in the campus store weeks ago, and a little envelope with your name on it in his clean handwriting.

You opened it with trembling fingers.

I thought of you, the note read. Simple. Honest.

"I noticed you're always out of ink because you let other people borrow your pens," he said softly, watching your reaction. "And I know you get headaches during long lectures—you press your temples with your thumbs when you're trying not to draw attention to it. So there's some caffeine-free tea in there too."

Your chest tightened. Your mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. He’d noticed all of that?

“I... uh...”

Then he asked it. Calmly, without fanfare, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Would you like to go out with me this Saturday?"

Your brain lagged, your breath stalling in your throat. Your fingers clenched tighter around the box.

"Why?" you blurted. Then quickly, eyes wide, you stammered, "I mean—I didn't even know you were interested in me."

For a beat, he was silent. Then his eyes softened, his posture relaxing just slightly. His thumbs pressed gently along the edge of his sleeves.

"I am," he said. "I have been for a while. You're always thoughtful. You don't speak just to fill space. You listen. You think before you act. I admire that."

The air caught in your chest. You looked down at the box, then back up at him.

He added, voice quieter now, "You don’t have to decide now. I just wanted you to know it wasn’t an accident that I asked. I see you. Even if you don’t always see yourself."

You bit your lip. Your hands were trembling slightly as you clutched the box tighter against your chest. "You're... really good at this," you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath.

"I’m nervous," he admitted, eyes flicking away for just a second. He adjusted the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder. "But I meant what I said. I like you."

Your throat was dry, but your heart was full. Full in a way it hadn't been before.

You nodded slowly, smile shy. "Okay. Yes. I’d like that. Saturday, right?"

A tiny smile curved at the corner of his mouth—small but warm, the kind that made your chest flutter.

"Saturday," he confirmed.

He glanced down the hallway toward the gym, then back at you.

"I have practice now," he said gently, taking a small step back. "But I’ll see you tomorrow?"

You nodded, this time more confidently.

He gave one final lingering look—eyes lingering not on your face but the way you held the box close to you like it meant something—and then turned and walked away, each step measured and light.

You stayed rooted in place.

Blushing, stunned, your arms wrapped tightly around the little box as if it might disappear. You stood there for what felt like ages, listening to the echoes of his footsteps until they faded down the stairwell.

And when you finally looked back at the note in your hand, reading I thought of you one more time, your heart bloomed in your chest.

Maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t so scary after all.

HEY! Hii!! How are you? I hope you're doing good!

I have a small question, do you write for Inarizaki characters? Not the Miyas or Suna, I mean like Omimi, Akagi, Ginjima, Kosaku, etc.

That's all I want to know, because I love em (⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠)

I hope you have a good day!!

Heyyy I'm doing fantastically thank you for asking heheh

I'll write anyone if you ask me too! The only difference is with more niche characters I just look up their wiki for ideas on their personalities lolol

I hope you have a good day too!! Thank you lovely <333

Dry humping meian shugo 😈

Literally say less

--

Anon Asks: Meian (NSFW)

He was supposed to be working.

Head down, glasses sliding low on his nose, fingers tapping against the keyboard with focused precision. The glow from his laptop screen bathed him in blue light, casting shadows over the sharp line of his jaw, the furrow of his brow. His hair was slightly tousled from running his hands through it, tension in his shoulders from hours of sitting still. He hadn't said a word in over an hour, only the steady clack of his keys filling the quiet room.

And you couldn’t stop staring.

You’d tried to behave. Really, you had. But every time he shifted in his seat or exhaled through his nose in that sharp, focused way, it made heat curl low in your belly. You watched the way the muscles in his arms flexed with every movement, how his thigh bounced occasionally under the desk, thick and strong where it stretched the fabric of his joggers.

He was so close. So focused. So completely unaware of how much you were squirming on the couch across from him.

You padded over quietly, slipping behind him with a slow smile.

“Baby,” you whispered, hands gently landing on his shoulders.

He didn’t look away from the screen. “Working, sweetheart.”

You hummed, bending down to press a soft, lingering kiss to the side of his neck. “Thought I could help you relax.”

“You relaxing usually ends with me not getting anything done,” he muttered, though his voice had already dipped a little lower.

“Then you better finish fast,” you teased, sliding your hands down his chest.

Before he could argue, you climbed into his lap, straddling one of his thighs. You didn’t straddle him fully—just perched on the broad muscle of one leg, your arms wrapping loosely around his neck. His fingers paused above the keyboard as your weight settled over him.

“You're distracting,” he said flatly, but his hands found your waist anyway.

You leaned in and kissed him—soft and slow at first, lips brushing his with teasing patience until he tilted his head and deepened it. His tongue slid along yours, slow and claiming. You whined into the kiss, rocking your hips forward just slightly, testing.

The pressure was perfect.

Your thin shorts did nothing to hide how wet you already were. You could feel the fabric of his joggers rough against you in the best way, feel the strength in his leg as it tensed under your movement.

You rolled your hips again. His hands tightened on your waist.

“That needy, huh?” he murmured, breath hot against your lips.

You nodded, eyes glassy. “Please, Shugo.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw clenching. Then—

“Ride it. Go ahead. Take what you need.”

Your breath caught.

You started moving, slow at first, dragging your core along the firm curve of his thigh. The pressure, the heat, the drag of your slick fabric against the muscle he kept deliberately flexing—it sent shivers shooting up your spine. Meian tensed his thigh even harder, locking it in place, and you nearly cried out.

“There you go,” he muttered, voice like gravel. “You feel that? All for you, baby.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rocked harder, faster, the friction building with every shift of your hips. You couldn't stop the sounds leaving your throat—little whimpers and gasps, punctuated by desperate moans every time he tensed his leg and gave you just a little more.

“Fuck,” you gasped, forehead pressing against his. “I’m gonna—Shugo, I’m…”

“Then do it,” he growled. “Make a mess on my thigh. Let me feel how much you want it.”

It snapped something in you.

You came with a high, breathy cry, body seizing up as pleasure exploded through your nerves. You rode it out, grinding helplessly through the aftershocks, fingers clutching at his shirt like you were afraid to let go.

He held you there, solid and unmoving, breathing heavy as he watched you fall apart.

But even as your body sagged against him, spent and shaking, you felt the tension still coiled in his muscles.

You felt the hard line of him pressing into your hip.

And then his hands were gripping your ass, pulling you against him with a growl.

“You think we’re done?” he muttered, low and dark.

He stood, lifting you effortlessly into his arms as your legs wrapped weakly around his waist.

“I let you come once. That was me being patient,” he said, mouth brushing your ear. “Now it's my turn.”

Iwaizumi, Rivals, part 3, nsfw..? Please 🥹 only if you have time ofc.. but like.. please don’t leave me hanging.. the cliffhanger… please..

You ofc, don’t need to do it. It’s totally up to you. Also please remember to drink water & eat full meals!

Just posted (read here) after eating a full meal and drinking all my water :D I hope you enjoy the spice eheheh thank you for the ask lovely <333