solanater

𝑺𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑨 ! 🦀 - lurker turned blogger turned writer (?), she/her, 18+, cancer ♋︎, fangirl to the core, minor obsession with gregory peck, major obsession with challengers; lao! 🇱🇦

fandoms ! ༻

- newsies, dead poets society, supernatural, call of duty, challengers, haikyuu, my hero academia, aot, death note, bungo stray dogs

works ! ༻

- masterlist.

- anything but writing

two twin beds pushed together.

pairing: hitoshi shinsou x fem!reader, tags/warnings: slight somno so dubcon, sleepy sex, spooning, grinding, groping, dirty talk, praise, needy, whiny shinsou, creampie

── ✮⋆˙ a/n: back in my shinsou era #mmffghh...oh that sleepy, sexy man

✴︎ divider cred: @mattflvwr @uzmacchiato

Horny, sleepy Shinsou, who hisses when he pulls his dick out of his sticky boxers. He lays behind you in bed, arm tucked beneath himself to hold him upright, muscles aching at even the smallest effort after what work was today, the stress of all his labor weighing down on him at once now that he can finally relax.

The moonlight casts a shadow of his hard dick against your sleep shorts, tall and poised up, the shadow catching even the smallest of twitches. Shinsou has to bite down on his lip at the sight, the groan that would have otherwise left his mouth would have definitely awoken you.

Shinsou almost feels guilty for it. For just thinking it, but he justifies the action to himself by saying that he’d be even more hard pressed to disturb that beauty sleep of yours every night he felt needy. He knew his schedule best, and with the amount of night patrols he gets put on, he’d feel oh so terrible for disrupting that perfect circadian rhythm of yours.

Shinsou gets comfortable behind you, letting himself wrap an arm around your middle, his movements slow and careful as to not rustle the bed too much before he’s pushing the hem of those little sleep shorts to the side and letting his dick rock against you, head tilting back at the unexpected sensation of your wet, bare folds against his hot cockhead.

“Fuckkk, pretty…’would’ve been happy with rutting against your cute panties but…shit…’you did this for me?” He asks your still-sleeping form.

A breathy chuckle leaves Shinsou’s lips at what he’s doing, watching your peaceful face in the dark with your cheek smushed against the pillows. God, he’s never felt more like a dirty bastard.

“Shitt..baby, m’gonna..gonna stick it in..yeah?” He whines out loud, subduing his guilt by speaking his actions aloud as if that way his words will somehow make it to you. Sloppy wet sounds take over the space in your room as he grinds his girth against your pussy like a desperate perv, before he manages to slip his tip in, a moan passing through his gritted teeth.

Quickly does Shinsou get wrapped up in the feeling of your pussy, warm and wet and familiar as he struggles to keep his thrusts any bit polite. Instead, all he can manage are shaky, hard landing thrusts that rattles the bed frame but not you, as his tight grips around your waist keeps you from going anywhere.

After just a little, Shinsou swears he can feel your cunt clenching around on him. Of course he picks up on it, since the only thing he’s been focusing on since getting home is the feeling of you and your pussy. Through his fucked out haze and nonstop groans he whines out soft apologies as you wake up.

“Mmm…m’sorry—I..fuck..m’sorry, baby…’needed you…” he stammers out all while his hips hammer into yours. “You’re so perfect…so pretty..”

Coming to your senses gradually, you clutch onto the hand Shinsou has against you, the one groping your tits below your shirt, fondling your breasts and flicking your nipples, whimpering his name and playing up your moans now that you’ve gotten a bearing as to what’s going on.

“Nghhh…’toshi…mmmmphh..!!” “C-couldn’t wake me up..?” You tease through your weary voice, words choppy from the force of his desperate humping. Shinsou’s fat tip slams over and over into your cunt, fucking hard into that sweet spot you can’t help but praise him for being so good even in these circumstances. “Nnhhh…hah!! ‘Such a good fuck, ‘toshi..hah!! Use me, baby..fuck me..”

“Y-yeah, god baby this cunt feels so good…s-sucking me in..I love it…” he whines into your ear. It’s so genuine you have trouble describing it as anything but cute.

And like usual, sleepy Shinsou loves to ramble. It’s funny, since he’s otherwise a quiet man. Shinsou typically doesn’t say much unless he has to, but when you get him sleepy, break down his walls and get him comfortable, he talks like he’s getting paid with each word.

“G-got back home…and—and I was so fucking horny..’n you were so pretty sleeping and I didn’t wanna wake you up—hah! B-but I needed you…I need you..I always..nnghhh—need you..”

“Th—that’s right, baby?” You reply, orgasm approaching as he keeps thrusting relentlessly.

“S-so pretty…in those tiny little..fuckin’ shorts…and then..aghhh goddd..! ‘I found out…out that you had no panties..!! ‘Just had to fuck you…”

God, he was so direct, came out with everything just at the feeling of you around him, truly pussywhipped for you. Every word traveled straight to your core, adding on to the way his girth stretched you out, how the veins on his dick rubbed against your walls, how deep he reached inside of you until you were both whining about being close.

“Please…pleaseplease cum with me…I need to feel you…I need it! Fuckkk…!” He begs at your ear, his voice hoarse. “Th-then I’ll flood this pussy—fuck it deep inside you…shit…’cause your mine..my pretty girl..”

“F-fuck..okay..okay..fuck! Hitoshi…!”

When he cums, he cums hard, incessant “iloveyous,” falling from his scarred lips as he holds you in his big arms, eyes shut as he relishes in the way you shake softly at your own release, your sweet pants and soft grabbing hands slowing his heart rate while he rests his head above yours, his hips continuing to move while he forces his cum deep inside of you, hot and sticky and very lewd-sounding.

“That was fun..” you mumble sleepily, an amused tone to your words.

A breathy, relief-filled, “Thank you…” is all Shinsou can manage, having been exhausted already when he got home, only to fuck you into the mattress as soon as he was in bed. 

Those big muscles sure are comfortable, and so is the warmth from his chest behind you, as he cuddles you like a teddy bear, only to him, much, much better.

You couldn’t be a luckier girl.

synopsis: a night in with dazai that ends with you and him on the couch (and his fingers in you)

pairing: ada!osamu dazai x fem!colleague!reader >> word count: 1.6k

tags/warnings: established relationship, fluff, pinky promises to stay, cuddles and kisses, mentions of dazai’s suicidality, making out, fingering, praise, dirty talk #xoxo might be ooc 😣 first dazai work

a/n: thinking ab the people dazai’s encountered in his life who he’s likely chosen to stick around for despite his fixation on suicide and how he’s got so many people who really do care for him and oml it’s just too much—and also fingers

Calm after the storm with Dazai.

Dazai’s apartment is warm. Full of everything you’d need to escape from the cold outside air of wintery Yokohama, and after a long day of work there’s no better way to escape from your responsibilities than to unwind with your sweetheart Dazai.

Along with the sound of the pot simmering creeps in the laughs of some random reality show playing on the TV with hosts that overreact to everything, put on to act as white noise. Though, neither of you could really care about what was on in the background when you had each other’s company.

Dazai meets you out the shower, dressed down in a way only you get to see, wrapping his arms around your torso as you plate up some curry for the two of you. He laughs hard enough that you can feel his warm chest vibrating against your back when you warn him he’ll be getting an elbow to the face if he doesn’t back up while you're spooning up dinner from the pot, ladle in hand. Nevertheless, he tightens his hold, the tips of his fingers curling in on your stomach through the fabric of your t-shirt—and don’t think he misses the shiver that runs down your spine at it, or the momentary pause in your breath, a sly smile gracing his features behind you.

“You know I’d gladly take a hit from you,” he hums, grinning, burying his face into your shoulder, soft lips pressing kisses to the exposed skin there.

“You’re so strange,” you mumble, shaking your head fondly as you put down the plates and spin around in his arms.

“But never boring…” he says back in response, his tone almost melodic.

Dazai smiles. You see it all the time but there’s something different about it when you’re alone. Something warmer, something more genuine behind it. 

“Hi, beautiful.” He says softly, dipping down to touch noses with you.

“Hi, ‘samu…” you mumble back, lips pursed in gentle amusement as your eyes find his.

————

“Atsushi let me braid his bang today. Y’know, the long one,” you giggle.

The tips of your toes are touching his knee while the two of you eat on the couch, a gentle intimacy held in such a small point of contact as you talk about your days and what happened during your time apart.

“I figured! S’not like you could manage a braid with any other part…” he replies teasingly.

“I was being descriptive!” You huff, your exasperated tone eliciting a laugh from him.

“You know…” he starts after, taking a sip of water in between to clear his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “I wanna take you to this place I used to go to,” 

“Yeah?” “How many places are left? ‘Seems like you used to go everywhere around here,” you giggle.

“So, so, so many.”

“‘God, retirement’s not gonna be a break, is it?” “You’re still gonna drag me around when we’re all old and gray, huh?” You muffle out through a spoonful of rice, still grinning.

“Of course I will! Are you complaining?" He asks like he’s interrogating you, eyes ticking over your face in anticipation over your answer.

Your head shakes side to side in amusement before raising to lock eyes with him, and when he meets your gaze it feels like every worry he could ever have could never match up to the reassurance you afford him with just a look.

“No. No, I am not.” You smile at him. “Actually,” you continue, placing down your plate on the coffee table. The contact of it makes a soft clink that echoes throughout his otherwise quiet apartment. 

“Do you promise it?” You ask, extending a pinky.

For a second, the juvenile nature of it catches him off guard. He blinks a few times—thinks that if you were anyone else he’d have probably thought it to be a silly, go along with it just for fun, but there’s something about your tone, the softness of your eyes, the quiet of his apartment, how your pinky waits for his like it matters, and he gets why you reached a hand out instead of only using words.

In fact, he thinks he understands why children do it even more than he ever thought about as a child when he wraps his pinky around yours, digits locking together to make something real and concrete, something that would be a fool’s errand to break.

“Obviously, I will.” “Even when we’re old and gray.”

————

As the night draws to a close, you find yourself wrapped up in each other’s arms, typical yet never tiring. Dirty dishes rest on the coffee table in front of the couch, the previous TV program replaced by an old, late night drama.

“What a great dinner!” Dazai hums contentedly, head above yours as he spoons you from behind. “Courtesy of my love, of course.”

“You’re such a flatterer!” You huff, swatting at his arm gently.

“You knew that when you got with me…” “But that doesn’t matter—because when it comes to you…every word is true.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What? ‘Don’t believe me?” He teases.

“‘Guess I’ll have to spend the rest of our lives proving it then,” “…Plenty of time.” He adds after, soft like he still can’t believe himself that within the span of a few years he’s suddenly become so settled with the idea of staying alive after an entire lifetime before feeling the exact opposite.

It was slow, sure. A gradual evolution that took a lot of trust and time spent alone with his thoughts but it happened. Every kiss, every smile from you or a well known colleague, every office celebration, every holiday watching you wish for another memory to create with him like wanting his presence was as natural as breathing turns out to make a man want to stick around just another day to see what happens. Every day it’s been that, until those days become months, and suddenly, Dazai’s lived another year.

“You’re incredible. You know that?” He whispers.

“What? Just ‘cause of my cooking? Seems like too much praise for curry,” you reply, oblivious to the web of thoughts in his head. Responding like you didn’t hold one of the biggest keys to his life, letting him cuddle you when he feels like he should be thanking you for your mere existence.

“You don’t get it, do you?” He says, low and gravely by your ear. It catches your attention. You tilt your head back just slightly to meet his face and then suddenly he’s on you. Puffy lips, swollen from the spicy curry collide with yours in a desperately messy kiss as Dazai maneuvers himself up to rest on one of the couch’s arms, pulling you with him to lay on his chest.

Pants fill the living room when you separate for air, and he laughs when he sees the looks of confusion on your face.

“Where’d that come from?” You ask breathily.

“Made me realize I need to show you how much I fucking worship you.”

It’s only minutes before his hand is down your pants, the other arm wrapped around your middle as he clutches you to his chest, ensuring you won’t squirm too far while his long fingers explore deep inside you, pushing in and out of your wet hole while his thumb presses down on your clit. 

“Aren’t you just a darling…?” He coos as you cry out his name, gasping out as his fingers scissor inside of you.

“‘Samu…oh..shit..!” you whimper, legs twitching as he goes back to fucking you on his hand.

“God, I love you. Doin’ so good for me,”

A wicked grin plasters his face when he notices you holding back, bottom lip jutted out in a pout as you bit the inner skin, his free hand moving to tug gently at it to release.

“‘Gonna let me hear those pretty moans? ‘Gonna let me listen to how good these fingers are makin’ you feel?” He asks, voice pleading like he isn’t completely in charge.

“Fuck! ‘Samu!” You cry when he finds that one spot inside of you, the tips of his fingers repeatedly rubbing up against it. The pleasure makes you thrash, your hips tilting up so he can get deeper, as if you weren’t full enough. Your nails leave crescent marks on his forearm as your grip tightens there, trying to get a bearing on anything at all.

“Oh? What’s this? Right here?” He hums, placing more pressure, fingers hitting at it harder.

“Needy slut for my fingers, yeah? ‘Can’t get yourself off like this…mhm…I know..”

“N-no…I can’t…mmmphhh..hah!! D-doesn’t feel as good…nnghh..not as full..!!”

The sight of you almost has him losing focus. A woman so normally composed now finger fucked out of her mind. Your mouth hangs slightly ajar and your eyes are half-lidded, your legs move uncontrollably, and your pussy flutters around his fingers like it’s talking to him. Telling him that you’re close.

“Fuck..” he grits out under his breath.

“Yeah, yeah, good girl.” Dazai whispers, breath hot on your temple as he eggs you on. “Cum. Cum all over my fingers.”

“Nghh…fuck!” A moan rips from your throat as you finally gush, wet walls fluttering around his unrelenting fingers while he talks you through your orgasm.

“Yeah…good job, baby.” “So proud of you.” He purrs, leaving his fingers inside while he watches your chest heave, taking in big breaths as you come down from your high, sweaty and tired after it all.

“Mhm…” he hums in affirmation to the way your body sinks down against his, at the fact he’s gotten you this way, content in his arms while he keeps you plugged up in the meantime.

“Just sleep, darling. I got you.”

pairing: hanta sero x fem!reader >> word count: 712; tags/warnings: reader wears makeup, sloppy blowjob, cum eating, praise, girthy sero

a/n: two day late bday post for husband hanta 🙏 mr. cellophane pls tape me up

divider cred: @cursed-carmine

You were a vision.

Sitting there, on your knees, in front of the couch, sweat melting the blush off your face as you swallow down his girth like it’s nothing for you.

The soft lamp light finds your highlighted cheekbones, your makeup now splotchy, setting powder worn down from your time dancing at the party venue, rosy cheeks once dusted on artificially replaced by the natural flush you always get when you drink.

So very you.

Sero loves you like this. He’s a horny bastard who gets off on you looking undone. That’s not to say he doesn’t like it when you are done up, but…something about the drool that pools out the corners of your mouth, or the raccoon eyes you get as your tears rinse away the mascara from your pretty curled lashes looks makes his cock throb hard. Something about how this version of you is only for him.

“Fuckk..yes…sloppy fuckin’ girl..” Sero groans, head tilting back against the couch frame while a hand of his brushes the sweaty hair off your temple.

It’s hypnotic—the sound made every time your head bobs, a nasty, loud squelch that makes your thighs clench and Sero’s head spin. Hollowed out cheeks give way to his thick dick, mouth widening to accommodate his size, the repeated motions leaving a frothy ring of spit around the base of him, catching on the hair there.

“So fucking pretty,” “My pretty lady, hm?” He asks knowing full well you can’t respond. His chuckle gets cut off by a moan when your tongue circles his exposed head before sucking hard.

“God, I love you…so mu—Aghh!! Fuck!” Loud groans fill the space of your living room, echoes of his pleasure bouncing off the walls that only encourage you to continue until he can’t stop the way his hips snap up, shoving is cock down your throat as he begs you to keep at it.

“Shitshitshit…keep going—don’t stop, don’t fucking stoppp…Nghh..”

The sound of your gagging makes his hips stutter and his cock twitch, heavy and plugging your mouth as he manages to get a good look at you this way, eyes glossed over with your head pressed lazily against his pelvis like you could pass out any second.

“Didn’t think you could get anymore drunk…but I guess cock does it for you too, huh?” Sero laughs breathily before tugging you back by your hair, the harsh grip making your nails dig into his meaty thighs, a hiss escaping him at the feeling.

He thinks you’re gonna stay there looking at him, waiting like you usually do for instruction whenever he does this, but Sero seems to have forgotten that it’s his birthday—and this was your gift.

When you resume it’s with doubled efforts. A focus on his sensitive tip while one hand works his shaft and the other his balls, eyes staring up at his through fluttering lashes like you’re really putting on a show.

“Aghhh…unhh..fuck..’close..” Sero grunts out, arms collapsed by his sides as he fully goes limp, letting you run the show completely—partially because he can’t fight the way you’re making him feel anymore, too blissed out to be cocky, not when all he can feel is the warm cave of your mouth around him.

“Fuck…’gonna cum down your throat..” “Please…”

You feel it beneath the pads of your fingers when his nuts rise, pumping up cum just as he lets you know.

Seconds later Sero’s cum shoots from his dick and down your throat, where you pinch his thigh hard enough for him to open his eyes and watch as you gulp it all down, releasing him from your mouth with a soft “pop!”

The back of your hand wipes the saliva from your lips as you pant, lovestruck eyes staring at him in all his post-but glory before crawling into his lap like a kitten.

“Mmm…Hanta..” you sing softly, cupping his warm face, grinning as he peeks his eyes open again at your touch, his eyebrows raised teasingly.

“Ahhh…” he sighs happily.

“Happy birthday, Hanta.”

His hand on your waist squeezes lightly as he smiles at you.

“That’s right.” “Happy birthday to me,” He replies smugly before peppering your face with an entourage of kisses. “And it’s all because of you.”

KEY: fics labeled with * are nfsw!

ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA

blurbs

- enjoy, atsushi. *

OSAMU DAZAI

fics

synopsis: exhausted from work, atsushi buries his face into your pussy

pairing: atsushi nakajima x fem!reader

tags/warnings: established relationship, cunnilingus, tongue-fucking, clit play, hair pulling, whiny atsushi, begging, on the couch, mentions of overstim, desperate atsushi, atsushi cums in his pants

a/n: new fandom LFGGGGGGG #livingitup #lemmeplaywthosewereballs i finished bsd and i don’t really know what to do with myself anymore 🥺🥺

“Mmmffghh…nghh..! hah..” Atsushi slurs, whiny and desperate as his lips lock around your swollen nub before sucking.

Coherency was the last thing on Atsushi’s mind right now. He had better things to devote his energy to after a day so strenuous, a day where he grew so fatigued of having to think of so many things all at once. 

Now that he was home, he didn’t have to. All he had to let fill up his worn out brain was you. 

You and your pretty body, sweet pussy that dripped with a nectar he lapped up eagerly, unashamed and skilled with his movements.

And Atsushi tried, he really did—to hold back. To let you welcome him home in a classier way. He drank the tea you made for him, ate dinner beside you on the kitchen island, smiled at how happy you were to see him back home. You and your furrowed brows and eyes full of concern as you doted on him and his new battle scars.

He tried. But the moment you two fell onto the couch, tangling together in a mess of limbs was when he realized he couldn’t be patient anymore.

A calloused hand would go to lift up your chin, and Atsushi would press a deceptively gentle kiss to your lips before he was really on you.

He pounced, hands grabbing onto your shoulders and maneuvering you to where you were lying down, all while his lips danced with yours. He only ever separated to catch his breath or whisper about how gorgeous you were.

“Please..?” He whined, twitchy hands making quick work to unbutton your shorts, his eyes pleading down at yours.

Your yes was all he needed, and it wasn’t long before your shorts were tugged off and his face was shoved between your thighs—his own doing, sniffing your scent over your panties like an animal, mouthing at the damp fabric while his hands locked with yours.

Now you're here, your second—third? You’re not sure which one you’re on now. Your brain is mush after it all. Atsushi doesn’t stop when he’s focused. You barely get a break in between orgasms. He just keeps going, lost in the taste of you against his tongue, the feeling of your folds, the sound of your juices like meditative white noise to him. 

Your moans spur him on, soft whimpers of his name and little yelps when he plunges his tongue inside of your hole, tracing your walls with the wet muscle until your hips twitch just for his grabby hands to push you down into place.

“P-please…need this—need you..” He hitches, desperation unwavering in his tone as his thumbs press down against the space between your hip bones.

Every time Atsushi’s tongue pushes back in, the tip of his nose nudges your clit, already so sensitive from before, when his thumb was flicking it around in circles, watching through his sweaty bangs at the way you fell apart because of him.

“Ahh…! Atsu’…hmph!! Aren’t you tired?” You manage, voice hoarse. “F-fuck…baby..it’s so much..!”

He only groans against you, half-lidded eyes training on your face as your head digs back into the couch pillow. He can’t stop. Not when you’re reacting like that. Every reaction you give him only fuels him more, recharging his pride and in turn, his stamina.

“Please, baby..more…more, more, more…” he pleads to you as his tongue flattens out against your pussy, moving your hips to make you grind along all the ridges of it, soaking his chin even more.

“Baby..” He starts rambling, “Work was so hard today…y’the best thing to come home to ever…mmfghh..”

“Y-yeah? I’m—oh!—glad you’re home…shit..!” You gasp suddenly, fingers tugging on his messy strands again as your hips buck up to his face. 

“Fuck…! Yeah, pull on my hair!” “M’yourssss…just wanna make you feel good…”

You’ve reached the point where every one of Atsushi’s sentences is murmured with the endings all dragged out, breathless voice saying everything he’s thinking about because he wants it so damn bad and just needs you to know. 

“iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou…fuckkk…” Atsushi cries, hands pawing at the skin of your waist as he squeezes, tongue working hard, laving over your needy pussy, drunk on your taste.

“Baby…baby, baby, baby…M’gonna cum in my pants…” he tells you, voice cracking along with it. “Will you cum with me? Yes? Oh fuckkk…!” 

It happens at the same time as yours. The moment your back arches off the couch cushions and Atsushi’s name rips from your throat is when his achy dick pumps out a fat load, twitching uncontrollably against his underwear as it spurts out a mess into his work pants. Tears prick his eyes at how overwhelming it is—cumming from just eating you out, at the same time as you, his face still buried against your pussy as his tongue laps up your tangy release, the pressure of your thighs around his head and the weight of his shoulders. 

It’s all so much.

“Thank you…” he pants out, shifting up a little to rest his head on your mound. “‘Gonna stay here for a while…” he hums, eyes closing before his body goes limp.

Oh, Atsushi.

“You work too hard.” You whisper, a hand combing through his white strands, pushing his bangs out of his face. It’s the last thing he hears before falling dead asleep.

synopsis: jerking off L like one of those amateur japanese porn vids

pairing: l lawliet x reader >> word count: 1.1k

tags/warnings: L appreciation, established relationship, sweet/pillow talk, not really strong dom/sub dynamics but reader is more in charge, foreskin mentioned, L once again has bush, nipple play, gooch referred to as “taint,” whimpering, mention of L feet (toes curling in detail), cum eating, L being L

a/n: WHAAAAAA.....we hella freaked out over here

L Lawliet, your sweet, so very gentle boyfriend who places so much trust in you despite everything. His devotion isn’t lost on you. In fact, it rings strong in your head every time you lay your eyes on him. How his eyes soften when you bring him cake, still characteristically wide in the way they always are but unmistakably fond as he looks up at you standing beside his office chair. How he hums in satisfaction when you kiss the top of his head before scrambling off back to your shared bedroom, leaving him to finish his work. Oh how he truly does appreciate the way you understand.

You just get it. You’re so in tune to his needs. L used to care little about solitude, now he takes precious seconds out of his day to think if he should work at his desk or in bed with you.

And there’s never a consequence to his decision. You just get it. He doesn’t have to justify or defend himself, you’re with him no matter what, and for that, he is grateful to an extent that is beyond describing.

L works hard. He works so hard it stresses you out more than sometimes but you know that he knows his limits. So you keep yourself available, as much as you can while being his partner, as the man is incredibly adamant on you maintaining your own life and hobbies. What he seems to have trouble understanding is that you enjoy it.

You enjoy being the arms that catch him when he’s too tired to use his crazy smart brain anymore. When the inevitable exhaustion from being only human hits him and he’s padding off to find you in bed. And even though he struggles to understand it, he lets it happen, for he, just as much as you, enjoys it too.

He lets himself go dumb with you. His weight presses down against your chest while his back slumps and your arms are wrapped around his torso, your head tucked beneath one of his. L bites his lip at your touch, his head tilted back and his eyes shut in bliss while you talk him through it. Through your soft grip around his hard cock, working it up more and more by the second. Each stroke makes your thumb brush the underside of his dick, against his sensitive frenulum revealed by the way you’ve got his foreskin pulled back, exposing his glans coated with sticky pre to the cool air.

“Mhm…’feeling good, my love?” “Y’deserve it…’work so hard all day..” you coo, lips pressing soft kisses against his ribs.

He makes an oh-so-kind effort to always respond to you, whimpering back.

“Nnghh..y-yeah..thank you, honey..” he pants, asking for you to speed up.

“‘Kay, baby.” You hum, tightening your grip as your hand moves you pump him faster, eliciting a breathy moan out of him.

The vulgar sound of slick is music to your ears as you play with him, rubbing your palm over his tip to let him buck up against it, dragging your hand back to wrap around him.

“L, you’ve got such a pretty dick…” you coo, swiping your thumb over the head.

“Mmmff..i-is that so?”

“Mhm..I love it.” “S’so heavy in my hands…could just start drooling now looking at it.”

“You’re…You’re very vulgar, darling.” He moans, eyebrows furrowing.

You think he does it on purpose, calling you out on your lewd word choice or vulgarity like he’s checkmating you when you know him well enough to see that it gets him off too. It’s like his form of dirty talk. The casualness of it all gets him off, calling you out like he’s not reciprocating one bit.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Do you not like it?” You ask, a glint in your eyes as you let your hand slip down to the space below his full balls, grinning as he lets out a pathetic moan at the circles you rub against his taint.

“Ohhh…L,” “Doesn’t it feel good to be vulgar?”

“Mmfgh…gah! Yes! Oh, yes it does!”

L’s moans only heighten when he feels your tongue flicking around his perky nipple, hundreds of nerve endings being stimulated by the way the ridges of your tongue ghost over them, wet and sloppy.

It’s not long before those moans turn into whines, whimpers and pleas for nothing in particular as his once sharp mind becomes only full of only you, and he’s pulled and stroked and tugged into the pits of pleasure.

When he cums it shoots out like a fountain; milky, white, goopy ribbons that land with a soft splat on his tensed lower abdomen as he mutters out curses.

“Nghhh..gahh…fuck, that’s—that’s good.” “Shit! S-sensitive!” He groans at the way your hand doesn’t release him.

Your grip remains strong around his cock, beginning to overstim him on purpose as his hips threaten to thrash and you press him down still by looping a leg to rest above his.

“I know…I know, baby. You need this…” you coo sweetly, free hand fondling his balls. “You got more in here for me, yeah?” “Please, L I want it…!”

“A-anything for you, my love…fuck!” L cries out before it happens again.

A glimpse up at his face lets you see how the pleasure overtakes him. His eyebrows are furrowed and his nose is scrunched, mouth baring his teeth as he hisses and whimpers out whines only meant for your ears.

L’s toes flex along with his slender feet before curling in. His heels dig into the comforter, as he tries to get a bearing on himself to no avail while you ring his cock dry of cum, tugging up from base to tip like your wringing out a wet rag.

God, he supposes he’s somewhat similar to a mere wet rag when he’s like this with you.

“You came a lot.” You mumble, voice lacking the previous salaciousness of before.

L can almost pick up on a sort of wonder in your tone as you spread your fingers before him, eyes locking on the way his cum connects your nimble digits in sticky strings.

“Sorry, darling.” He responds, grabbing at your wrist. His thumb goes to stroke a gentle back and forth around your pulse point before meeting your gaze. “Must’ve been…pent up.” “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He laughs at the fact, smiling fondly at you.

“Yeah, but…it’s alright.” You whisper, eyes on him as you bring your hand up to lick it clean.

He blinks down at you like he’s trying to figure out something.

“Is that stuff really that good?”

pairing: denki kaminari x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

tags/warnings: reader wears makeup, quirks still exist (mention of denki’s), just fluff, strangers to more, you meet denki at the fair, very coastal moving fair inspired (the only thing i really know), SO SO CORNY 😭😭mini SMAU at end!!!

a/n: this might be the most self indulgent thing ive ever written ong 😭😭 i’ve literally told friends ab this fantasy before but like tell me it’s not the most accurate CMONNNNNN 🤤🤤🤤 #whenwilllovefindme sorry if the nerd in me is really strong here...at the end of the day i just want to be in a romcom. thinking ab it this is very wattpad esque

any fanart used was not drawn by me !! all found on pinterest

divider cred: @azkarev521

Denki’s the kind of guy you meet unexpectedly at a theme park outing with your friends.

He’s the kind of guy that you fantasize about while getting ready—alone in your room while curling your lashes and wishing so hard for love to just fall straight into your lap, only to force yourself to forget the thought entirely moments later.

Of course, it doesn’t work though, because you’re listening to love songs; and besides, when have you ever not been thinking about love?

So much for it “coming when you least expect it.”

You do finally lose the thought when you’re there though. When you’re with your friends and waiting in line for wristbands and the breeze from the beach a few blocks away wafts against your face. The wind smells like ocean salt and fried food from the food trucks that line the dock, and there’s this spark of excitement in the air that travels through all the people here, gathered together in each other’s own groups, both inside already and those who are still waiting in line, anticipation growing over the fun the night will entail.

And when you finally make it in it’s just as magical as it seemed, no matter how many times you’ve been before. Your friends pull you into vendor stalls and poke at the knock-off squishies being sold and debate on whether you want to spend ten bucks on it, before you’re off to the next, homemade jewelry, or maybe the caricature art station—nevermind. You’re not sure if you’ve got the confidence for that.

“Start with the ferris wheel?” One of your friends asks.

“Hell no! That is boring as hell to start with! We are doing the scrambler!”

“Oh my god, I’m gonna throw up.”             “Woooo! Who’s excited to get their guts scrambled!” 

You laugh at your friends, hiding your face in your hands at how they definitely screamed that too loud for being in public.

For a good while, you really do forget about meeting someone. It’s hard to be so focused on a fantasy when your present is so nice. That is, until you see him. While you're scouring the crowd and people watching he catches your eye. Bright yellow hair that seems to shine so brilliantly under the multicolored fluorescents and you know you can’t leave without trying.

Maybe the first time you talk you’re lined up with your friends at the basketball hoops. He and his friends are at the few right next to your group and your arms brush as your both picking up a ball. It’s like the movies.

Denki smiles when he meets your eyes, chuckling. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m clumsy.”

“No, no! It wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry,” you rush out, returning his smile with one of your own. At the last moment you blurt. “I love your hair,”

He looks back, beaming, “Really?” “Then this one’s for you.” He winks cheekily, shooting the ball.

He misses.

Or…maybe you meet him on the Gravitron—a random group of people put in a big wheel to experience the wonders of physics, what could go wrong?

But, maybe you should’ve been asking yourself—what could go right?

Denki doesn’t anticipate the ride coming to a stop. The cushion pads drop from the weight of gravity, and the boy who was once completely upside down topples onto you as you’re just getting up.

“Oh my fucking god,”

“Denki!”

“Oh my goodness are you alright?”

“Dumbass!”

And finally, from the lightning strike-haired boy himself.

“Oh my god,” “I’m so sorry!” It’s frantic and his eyes are wide with worry, but you can forgive it all just from that cute flush on his face and the way his hair is sticking up all which ways.

You laugh, and when you do you watch the way Denki relaxes before his head cocks to one side. A silent, “hm?”

“It’s alright ‘cause you’re cute.” you grin, fetching your phone from your bag.

Denki’s jaw is half open when you hand it to him, taking it from you on instinct before he’s even really processed your advance. His fingers swipe to type in his contact like it’s second nature as his ears perk up at what you say next.

“I’ve got a way you can repay me though.”

“No way!” You hear, whispered from a friend behind him.

Oh, and maybe you’re lucky enough to meet him in line for the zipper. This fuckass ride you go on every time you come to the fair because how can you say you went without doing it.

And yet, god, it’s dreadful.

You wait in line with your friends for what seems like forever. The whole time Denki’s group is right behind you guys, and it’s definitely not lost on any of you that there is a very attractive group of people your age right behind all of you.

Amidst the stupid line jokes and exasperated leans against the metal grates while you wait, your eyes flick over ever so often to warm yellow ones doing all the same with his friends behind you. Every time, the eye contact goes as quick as it came and you think of it as nothing more serious than an airport crush until your group is next up to ride and you’re counting spots.

Pairs of two, and you guys aren’t even.

“Does that mean someone has to go twice?”

“Dude, NOT me.”

“Well either someone goes twice, someone chooses to not go, or someone goes with a stranger…”

Then: two taps on your shoulder as you’re talking it out loudly with your friends.

“Hey…uh, you guys are uneven?” He asks.

“We are too!” “My friend over there with the blonde hair didn’t want to go on—so we’re five now,” he points.

That’s how you end up on the zipper with Denki, bracing yourselves and holding on tight to the bars in front of you as you warn him that you scream on rides only to be one-upped when he tells you that his quirk might malfunction, and “Uhm, it’s Electrification…”

“WHAT?!—OH MY GOD WE’RE GOING…!!!!”

Nothing can describe the feeling of relief the two of you share when the janky ride cranks to a stop, meeting eyes and laughing.

As your feet meet the ground once again and you stumble out the exit, you make the overly dramatic decision to lay on the ground and praise the earth much to the embarrassment of your friends, but much to your surprise, when you turn your head to the right you’re met with the same yellow, messy hair you saw moments before laying down right beside you. After all, who was Denki if not one for things like this.

“How was it, you guys?” One of his friends asks, giggling.

“You two look like you went through it!”

He only keeps looking at you, eyes shaped like crescents as he smiles.

When the night ends, Denki finds you again, waiting in line with your own group of friends, just one of many looking to get some last minute fair food before leaving.

“Hey! Uh..I bought some fried Oreos for you!” He says, smiling bashfully as he awaits your reaction. “I-if you want them,”

The stress drains out of him when you take the small tray. You see it in the way his shoulders relax before you reach out to hug him.

“Thanks, Kaminari.”

“Y-yeah! I’ll text you!” He sputters out upon hearing his friends call him, bidding you a final farewell smile and a wave before he’s running off.

“Ahhhh…love..!” you hear faintly from one of his friends, the charms of her pink purse jingling as they take off, teasing him.

Denki is fun regardless of how you meet him, a fumbling mess of a guy who’s so endearing about it you can’t help but take a liking to him. He’s the perfect representation of the type of fun you find at a fair. Unpredictable, hilarious, and incredibly memorable. Once you meet him, there’s no way you’re going home without a way to see him again. It’s never something he tries to do, but he has a way of imprinting himself in people’s minds.

It’s just this spark about him.

KEY: fics labeled with * are nfsw!

JEAN KIRSCHTEIN

blurbs

pairing: jean kirschtein x fem!reader

word count: 541; tags/warning: headcannons on being around jean :: first aot work #woah

a/n: just thoughts on jean !! he's so boyfriend it hurts he'd be so fun

Jean, who likes to stack rocks and tries to beat his record for the tallest rock tower whenever there are any around, squinting his eyes and bending down to get level with the curved edge of the last one before he places the next. When it topples over he huffs like an angry dog and he shakes his head, his brown tufts getting messied up by his mini tantrum only for it to be quelled when your hand reaches him, mussing his hair up and patting the top of it. 

Jean, who’s put off learning the guitar for years, and finally starts the day after your New Year’s party. He tells you it’s his New Year’s resolution and to “Just watch, I’ll be the greatest guitarist in like five months—or something.” He learns one song off of a YouTube tutorial and plays it all the time.

Jean, who always has to wrap his arm around you whenever you’re beside each other. Jean doesn’t like being apart from you. He can’t bear the urge no matter what. He’s just that smitten.

Jean, who hates doing the dishes. Seriously, get him to do any other chore. Just not the dishes. Oh, and he never remembers to not wash with cold water no matter how many times you remind him not to.

Jean, who’s big on cuddling no matter how hot it is. Says he’ll “die a happy man from the heat,” and will only relent if you complain enough. After all, he’s not trying to make his girl upset, is he?

Jean, who eats popsicles so exaggeratedly it’s like he’s trying to get on your nerves. You’ll lock eyes with him across the pool and suddenly normal licks turn into deepthroating the thing. Cherry red ice melts from the heat of his mouth and spills down the sides like a grotesque adult flick and he’s pulling it out of his mouth and smiling politely as you grimace at him. Sometimes it’s like he’s so good at it you think he’s had to have done it before.

Jean, who always gets an extra side of fries with whatever he orders. Finger food goes away quick, he says. (he also likes to see your face when he shares with you).

Jean, who makes the worst jokes at the worst moments. You’ve scolded him for it many a time. and yet it feels like he never learns. “Jean, not in front of my grandma!”

Jean, who loves kissing your eyebrows? He doesn’t really get it so much himself, it’s just something he likes to do. Something soothing about it. Plus. The hair tickles his lips.

Jean “Love ya!” Kirschtein. He doesn’t end a call without it. It’s at the end of his voicemail too.

Jean, who, when upset, crawls into bed beside you and wraps his arms around your middle, hugging you like a lifeline. And in a way, you are. Jean doesn’t tend to calm down until your hands are running along his back, fingertips tracing his spine until the big hunk absolutely just melts. His cheek presses into your shoulder and he murmurs something incoherent before letting his eyes close.

pairing: eijirou kirishima x fem!reader

word count: 561

a/n: big beefy eijirou kirishima is all i believe in. pumping this out bc i have writer's block but also because i wish kiri was real....sighhh #CHUDLIFE

divider cred: @cursed-carmine

Kiri was soooo warm–truly, for a man so strong he was really just a big teddy bear. A hunk who loved to cuddle and be cuddled back.

Another thing about Kiri: he smells like peonies right now.

The gentle floral scent from the soap the two of you share is soft on your nostrils as you bury your face into his big chest, smushing your cheek into his skin, skin that’s soft in that unmistakable way you only get when you’re fresh out the shower. 

As you lay your head on his chest, you can’t help but feel grateful to have your man clean and under the covers with you–it’s not guaranteed with the line of work he’s in, and it seems Eijirou knows it too. He worries all too much about it.

His hand smooths over your hair, the weight of it familiar as it rests atop your head. He laughs at the way you seem to be burrowing yourself into him, his head cocked to the right with confusion locked in the seam of his furrowed brows–still, only amused.

“Watcha doin’ there, huh?” He chuckles, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“M’smelling you.” You muffle.

“Yeah? You can smell me up here too, y’know?” “Where I can see your face,”

A soft whine escapes your lips. “Mmmffgghhh…but your chest…” you moan out lowly.

Eijirou laughs hard, the vibrations coming deep from his chest as you keep nuzzling against him. 

“My chest? What about it, baby?” He asks, coming down from his laughter. His eyes are fond as he stares down at you–the love of his life, rubbing up against and pawing at his chest like it was anything worthy of such affection, and yet here you were, lying in his arms and doing exactly that.

“I like it.” You reply simply.

“Yeah? What do you like about it?” He prods, looking for compliments.

Happily indulging him, you respond, hands cupping and squishing the meaty flesh there, grinning as you pat the expanse of his chest.

“It’s warm..and squishy, and nice to lay on..”

“Yeah? So you only like it because of what you can get out of it? Not because it’s a part of me?” He huffs dramatically. You swear you can spot a twinkle in his puppy dog eyes as he pouts, and you shove your hand over his face.

“Stopppp…that’s not–hm..”

Eijirou laughs softly, nudging your hand off his face. You let it fall onto the bed as he cups your cheeks in his palms, cooing down at you. “Mmm…I’m just teasing, baby. Take all you want from me.” “I’m all yours.”

And like all nights tend to end, you and Kiri laugh and talk until the hour is late and your eyes can barely keep open. Until your words are slurred and the warmth that surrounds you at all sides is the only thing you can focus on before sleep overtakes you. Eijirou–not too far behind, leans down to kiss the top of your head, a gentle press of devotion he hopes drags on into whatever dream realm you’ll find yourself in tonight and tell him all about the next day. Maybe, like he always wishes, you’ll tell him that he was there, right beside you even in your unconsciousness. He hopes it so. That in another world, it’s still you and him.