oppaihearts.bsky.social
he/him | 2000 | what happens on the nsfw account stays on the nsfw account. art is usually just a sketch, also i yap a lot and write 20 post long threads about my blorbos
this is an 18+ space! minors will be blocked, my work is not for you!!
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WAHHHH THANK YOU THEY REALLY ARE THE GUYS OF ALL TIME!!!!!! i hope my drawings show even 10% of how insane i feel for them too
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idk if there’s even drama about this but i feel like i never see pre transition art of trans characters? i personally think it’s fine but hope it doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable
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RETWEET AS HELL
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SNEKDHJAND i’m so sorry if your thesis is late just tell your advisors it was me
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my flight is literally taking off rn but pls know everyone in their respective friend group chats woke up early as fuck waiting for either the crash out of the century or an announcement that they’re finally together
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wanting everything between them a little longer, a little more.
they fit together nicely, comfortable with each other but not themselves. how could this be a mistake?
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embrace, shoyo doing the same to atsumu after a few seconds, and they can relax. everything is okay. both know the other is probably awake at this point, but it’s easier to delay things just a little longer, let this thing between them remain nameless a little longer,
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riptides of emotion. shoyo might like him, he definitely loves shoyo, and they’ll have to address this mess when they’re both ready, but if he pretends to still be asleep, maybe he can enjoy laying together like this a little longer, take what he wants one more time.
atsumu wraps shoyo in a loose
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still, atsumu refuses to open his eyes, wanting to chase his desire and squeeze shoyo in close while also wanting to crawl into a hole and die. reliving memories of the prior night, he flicks between elation and despair like a ticking clock, counting the seconds until his life implodes through
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and enjoy their mutual warmth a little longer.
atsumu’s frozen in place, unable to tell if shoyo is awake or not. the body beneath him feels too still, not even daring to breathe, stopping too suddenly to be anything but wakefulness, but maybe that’s just the way shoyo sleeps (it’s not).
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dread and excitement and arousal swirl in his gut like the world’s worst cocktail as he remembers how easy it was to take advantage of his drunk friend, even if atsumu seemed all too awake. eyes sliding back shut to shut out the headache, shoyo can try to pretend nothing’s amiss
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the smell of saliva clings to their skin and, god, when shoyo opens his eyes he can see the menagerie of marks across atsumu’s back and neck, only a sample of the mess he’s sure he left over the rest of atsumu’s body.
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between his legs short circuiting shoyo’s brain.
he wants, he wants, and they want.
the hand on shoyo’s chest is tense as if calculating the most nonchalant way to fall to the bed and make their position seem like an accident.
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now his pussy would still be glistening and his tdick swollen, unable to completely kill his arousal even in their compromised situation. it’s impossible with the man he loves smothering him with intimacy, the hard nub pressed against shoyo’s thigh through atsumu’s boxers and the warmth
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squeezing his thighs around atsumu, demanding more, and atsumu is more than happy to provide.
after that it gets fuzzy, the only evidence left of their joy-drunk decisions being the marks littered across their skin and the sticky wetness in their underwear. shoyo’s sure if he spread his legs right
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his eyes before burying his face into shoyo’s neck, and his eyelashes and breath and hair tickle so much shoyo starts laughing as well, gasping out more words that get lost under the covers between breaths. he’s rubbing soothing lines up and down atsumu’s back, asking for more,
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indulge yourself for one night, and you can blame it on the party.
shoyo’s desperately pulling on atsumu’s clothes, marveling at the way his roommate’s muscles flex and relax when atsumu finally strips himself as well. he must’ve said something funny, because atsumu’s laughing until tears wet
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the haze of alcohol thinning out with each passing minute, drunk with a different kind of indulgence.
even though their eyelids aren’t heavy with drink anymore and their movements are coordinated, they still tell themselves it’s the alcohol, it’s the alcohol, it’s the alcohol.
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and shoyo is more than happy to oblige, letting atsumu pull it inside out over his head and discard it to the side, his jeans soon to follow. limber thumbs padded with callouses rub circles around his hard nipples, drawing out a moan. both men are flush with excitement,
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few whistles from friends that they can’t hear.
shoyo’s sprawled back on the bed, atsumu’s thigh between his own as he rolls his hips down on thick muscle. atsumu’s hands snake under his shirt and binder, tugging the tight garment up while they continue their kiss,
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as they test each other’s boundaries until they’re grinding against each other with need. they pepper in a few brief kisses, but once atsumu flicks his tongue out to get a taste of shoyo’s lip, they’re inseparable. they hurry through the house to the first empty bedroom they can find, followed by a
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the first time their bodies press together can be written off as an accident, all lopsided smiles and limp wrists as they apologize. each subsequent contact grows longer and more insistent. a little shift of the hips here, a hand firmly trailing down his arm there, no longer apologizing
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they split off from each other to greet their respective friend groups before eventually meeting again on the dance floor, a lot looser and sweatier, just intoxicated enough to make a a bad decision with a good push, and the throng of people dancing around them gave them plenty of pushes.
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this was a mistake.
they both lay in silence, hoping the other isn’t awake yet as memories trickle back in lucid fragments. a party a few blocks from home, low lights, and a round of jello shots, orange and lemon flavored.
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atsumu wakes to some stirring beneath him then warm breath gently ghosting over his shoulder, his hand cupping something soft and squishy, rising and falling with sleepy deep breaths before it abruptly stops and the soft thudding of a heart beginning to race thrums through his fingertips.
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OLIVER JM GONNA GO CRAZY FOR THIS RAHHHHHHH
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i’m not doing research on this to find out how true it actually is and i’m like 90% sure the person who mentioned this was an asian fetishizer but it’s a memory i’m cursed with from when i was like 16
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it’s not enough to measure them separately or just whip them out they should really make sure it’s accurate by pressing their tdicks together and pulling back the hood to see how long and thick they really are
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spideywhiteys writes such brain altering atshn i’m actually obsessed!!!!
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archiveofourown.org/works/524832...
enjoy ✨
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there’s an omegaverse fic like this………
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SO REAL i did consider osamu as a sperm donor because it would be Perfect but trans osamu is also so delicious i couldnt do it.. silly fictional characters with their silly fictional technology though :3 they will never shut up about their baby
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PLEASE
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your playground of course it would work