explvrer

toji loves listening to you ramble. i really think he does. he finds your voice so soothing, so comforting, no matter whatever the fuck you're actually talking about. he's lazing on the coach at home while you're out running some errands and ranting about how stupid people can be over the phone. he laughs quietly to himself, very amused by your annoyed tone. but he loves it. he wants to hear what you've bought, where you've been, what you've eaten, where you're going next. he loves hearing you talk to the barista, never ending the call with him. he listens to you order a sweet little beverage and he's smiling, happy about the fact that you're having a good time.

he can't wait until you come home though. he already knows you're going to step inside and immediately hit him with another ramble as if you weren't just on the phone with him. he watches you kick off your shoes and remove your coat, he watches you place your bags onto the table before making your way over to him. you give him a big toothy grin and he doesn't even have time to respond because you're already falling flat on him. folding your hands on his chest, you rest your chin on top of them - staring at your boyfriend at an uncanny angle. his big arms curl around your middle and now you truly feel at home.

"arytiredfmyet?"

he rumbles a chuckle from beneath you and pinches your side, reveling in the little squeak you let out. "ya gotta speak louder than that, sweetheart."

with an eye-roll, you grumble back. "i asked whether you're tired of me yet..."

he looks so terribly comfy. and homey. and he smells so fucking good. you've never seen a boyfriend look so boyfriend. he's warm and he's looking at you with the softest eyes, despite the little smug grin that's creeping on his lips.

"ya got more for me?"

"i'm afraid so. awful, just awful things happened on the bus." you nod your head, eyes big - emphasizing your words like you almost died on your way back home and his insides feel extremely gooey. you're so close and you're warm, too. he can feel your heartbeat pounding directly above his own, the touch is just right. he knows you're tired; you've had a long day but you're still so set on talking his ears off and he loves you.

his scarred hands knead the skin of your waist. he looks like a big domesticated wolf. you want to scratch his ears. you surpress your desire to tell him that though. his lips stretch into a proper smile and your stomach fills with butterflies.

"can't wait to hear all about it, sweetheart."

cowboy!nanami showing you just how much prettier the sunrise is in the country. he says you've been blinded to "real sunsets," living in the city your whole life.

he sets the whole thing up. wakes up like he always does, well before the crack of dawn, except this time he wakes you along with him.

sure, you're not thrilled to be up so early, but you were dying to see this sunrise that kento insisted was sooo much different than it was in the city.

he's set up a picnic blanket and a few snacks so that you could watch it from the fields behind his home. he makes coffee for both of you as you take a bit to wake up.

it's still dark when you get outside, but you can tell the sun is starting to get closer to peaking over the horizon, illuminating the dew left on the fresh grass.

when the sun finally does break into the sky, you're breathless. from the very first moment the sky starts to morph into beautiful shades of pink and orange, you're entranced. kento is equally as enchanted, although he's not watching the sunrise at all.

sure, he'd been the one to tell you that they were to die for, but he'd much rather spend the morning looking at you, whose beauty rivaled the sun itself, and, in his opinion, put it to shame. he admires you as the sun casts its rays onto your smiling face, holding your hand in his and rubbing small circles onto the back of it.

you turn to him at some point, somewhat startled to find he's already looking at you.

"you missed it, ken," you smile at him. "why're you looking at me when you missed 'the most gorgeous sunrise you'll ever see'?"

he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, "i'd miss it for the rest of my life if i get to spend it lookin' at you, darlin'."

cowboy!kento masterlist

cw: fwb, unprotected sex, creampie, no aftercare (it prob happens but i did not write it), casual sex, very very light pain play (satoru pinches), semi-rough sex, light femdom (kinda)

fwb with satoru gets really messy really really fast and then you both have to pretend that it didn't happen... then ofc the next week you start sleeping together again because you can't keep your hands off of each other.

there's a lot of frustration. a lot of emotion that neither of you are all too eager to claim, and it charges you both up like static set to shock. it makes you... angry and vindictive, chasing something that you both refuse to give a name to (even if the name is obvious).

it's a thursday and the night has gone as either of you had expected it to. truthfully, you didn't come over to satoru's place to fuck him. he's your friend, even with all the sex you have, and you really just came over here just to hang out. of course, one thing led to another and the proximity, teasing words, his hand on the top of your thigh, fingers creeping further and further up... well, of course you ended up like this. it seems to be a natural state for the two of you.

bakugou doing his late-night grocery shopping, when the store is a little more empty, and—your relationship is so new and exciting, and you haven't gone all the way yet, though it's getting close. he happens to walk by the pharmacy aisle and stares for a loooong time at condoms out of the corner of his eye, wondering if it's too early to buy some, or if he even needs them at all, before getting so hot in the face and just leaving LOL

I think YOU see Iwaizumi at the gym and think he's out of your league, meanwhile he's praying you'll come close enough for him to say hi casually

yuji had never been in gojo’s office before.

he hadn’t even known such an office existed until he and nobara convinced megumi to let them fly on nue and ended up with their faces smooching a glass window (which was now broken) and they’d been called into gojo’s office for a punishment.

it was extravagant, consisting of a dark oak desk, a floor to ceiling window, marble floors and whatnot. but mostly empty, no traces to suggest that anybody occupied it. it was devoid of any warmth and gojo’s personality—except for a frame on the desk that caught yuji’s eye.

“hey sensei, isn’t that your girlfriend?!”

gojo’s eyes flit to the photograph before he sighs, “she’s not my girlfriend anymore.”

“what?!” nobara screeches, “she was the best you could find! i mean good for her, she’s learnt her standards but now you’re definitely gonna die alone, sensei.”

even megumi’s lips were twisted into a frown.

yuji stutters, backtracking before they get kicked out of school, “wha-what she means to ask is why’d you break up? you guys were perfect for each other.” he pauses, “i think.”

he’d only seen her a few times around campus but she seemed like the sweetest person on earth, based on their few interactions. nobara definitely seemed to approve of her.

gojo props his legs up on the table, shrugging with his hands behind his head, “multiple reasons. first one, she’s out to torture me.”

“i am not.” the trio whips around to see you standing in the doorway, arms crossed with a flat expression. you lift up a bag, “you forgot your lunch. again. it’s been three times this week and it’s only wednesday.”

“as i was saying, she maimed my crotch permanently and lost any hope of mini me running around—”

“it was night and i got jumpscared by your radioactive blue eyes.”

“and then, she launched war on me and didn’t let me cuddle her.”

“because you came home bleeding with an injury that would worsen if i suffocated you.”

“and the worst of all,” gojo narrows his eyes at you, “she ate my kikifuku.”

“you’re a billionaire. just buy some more.” you shrug, placing the cover on his desk.

confusion lingers in the bemused side eyes of the students after the…interesting conversation.

“sure, they all sound heinous crimes…” yuji continues hesitantly, “but is it really worth breaking up over?”

“who said anything about breaking up? i just said that she wasn’t my girlfriend anymore.”

“now i’m even more convinced you were dropped on your head as a baby.” nobara blurts out but megumi’s eyes are already travelling to the ring on your finger, which gojo holds up to show off.

“she’s not my girlfriend anymore because she’s my wife!” he beams.

“fiancée.”

“for now.”

you roll your eyes but a fond smile blooms on your lips and gojo kisses your hand softly, “kids, say hi to mrs gojo. now i call dibs on yuji being the flower boy, megumi the ring bearer and nobara—”

“hold up. maybe we should think this through—”

“no wasting time. i need ijichi to sign the official babysitter documents for our future baby.”

“satoru!”

112 days Nanamiless.

yuuji’s all golden retriever boyfriend, cute and sweet—the ultimate boy-next-door. he brings home little things that made him think of you: flowers, a couple of pastries, maybe with one of those cheesy punny cards that go ‘you’re all i knead’.

it’s wholesome until he catches you off guard with a response spoken so casually to your chuckle of ‘good on her’ when your neighbour’s moans can be heard from your living room—

he says, bright eyes and arm still wrapped to cuddle you, “Don’t worry, I’ll make you scream too.”

i really think having an emotional connection is so important to bakugou sexually.

like, i think he has to be in the exact right mood in order to get off by himself at home alone. can't be too tired, can't be too stressed out, can't have too much on his mind regarding work or other things, and even if it's been a while and his body is sensitive and wanting for it—if his head is not right, he can sit there for hours and never reach his peak.

which is why i think ultimately he doesn't do it that often, because it pisses him off to waste the time and not find the release. makes him more agitated. i think porn for the most part doesn't help him because he's too picky, literature probably helps a bit more, but he's still picky, and his imagination can get him there, but his headspace has to be right.

i think he's slow to hands-on stuff, when your relationship starts, and you can tell he's going to be like that pretty quickly. he responds to your touch like it's an accident; you reach out to hold his hand and he pulls his back like your knuckles have knocked by chance, like you're too close. it's not meant to be a rejection of any kind, it's just—he doesn't want you to touch him if you don't want to. if you don't mean to.

but when he realizes that you mean to, that you want to—

it has him skyrocketing. surprises him terribly, the affect you have on his body, and how quickly, because not even he can always have that affect on his own body.

you reach up to push some hair out of his face and your fingers skirt his cheekbone and he feels like a stupid gross disgusting puddle of mush. you loop your arm through his and lean into him while you're walking and he feels like a prize, like he's yours and you're his and you want everybody to know and that gives him a rush of pride that makes his head woozy.

he's dropping you off at home after date number he-doesn't-know and you're staring up at him outside your front door and he knows he should kiss you so he does and his whole body lights up with a heat he doesn't recognize at all. just from that.

and then he finally gets it: that heart-aching, stomach turning, body shaking want he's only ever heard about, and now finally feels.

transmasc yuuta x gn reader. yuuta’s on T. And on prozac. And horny as hell. fingering+oral sex (yuuta receiving). banner by @/cafekitsune. wc 1.5K.

It’s somewhere smack dab in the middle of the night when you’re inevitably awoken by your boyfriend at your side. Yuuta’s always had trouble sleeping, that you knew even before you shared an apartment with him. But lately, the tossing and turning, the fidgeting, the getting out of bed to pace around the apartment or to go entertain himself in the living room—it’s all gotten more frequent, entirely out of hand. You blame it on his cocktail of prescriptions, but since they do more good than harm, the sleeplessness is just something you deal with.

And of course, the easiest way to deal with it, is to tire the guy out. Which, you excel at, to Yuuta’s relief.

“Baby, you’re still up?” You ask him, turning to your side as you peel your eyes open, adjusting to the darkness of the room. There’s just a sliver of moonlight that shines in from the gaps between the window curtain and the wall, and it perfectly illuminates Yuuta’s dark, sunken gaze. He looks at you with an expression that can only be described as guilty.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, his breathy voice soft and sweet, unlike your gritty, sleepy one. You reach over to his face, tucking a lock of his dark hair behind his ear and away from his face. He smiles sheepishly. “Can’t sleep again.”

Having a traumatic childhood means you cannot talk even objectively about your basic foundational experiences without it being "venting", even if you're not actually venting. You just straight up have a huge chunk of your life you can't talk about, full stop, without it being trauma dumping.

And it not being socially acceptable to talk about your own childhood is super alienating. Sometimes people want to know why, and any answer you can give them is going to be off putting.

It's to the point I get irritated when something I said is framed as venting when I'm literally just talking about my life experiences, doing my best to keep emotion out of it.

when I was in high school, I overheard two older students talking about a friend of theirs.

One of them said something like, "it doesn't bother me that [Friend] was in residential mental health treatment, I just wish they wouldn't talk about it ALL the time".

The other replied, "Well, that was all of last year for them. So when they say 'when I was in treatment,' it's like when you say 'last year'."

I try to remember that any time someone says something that sounds Shocking to me. sometimes one person's scary special crisis is another person's last year.

ok well im going to build a good future for myself whether i like it or not

literally this

Not gonna lie friends. I would like to feel desired and feel like someone’s first choice

AITA for eating my partner's pussy until she's sobbing? 

that’s what suguru was typing up on his phone while you had him shut out of the bathroom washing up. 

suguru knew he was supposed to feel bad about what he had done, but his heart was beating fast, and his dick was getting harder thinking about it again. 

ten minutes ago, suguru just finished eating your pussy out front and back, it lasted two hours and almost three. when he was satisfied with how much fluid, moans and crying you did, he finally stopped. 

in his defense it wasn’t his intention to go over board with it. he just wanted to taste you before the both of you settled in for bed, but once he started licking and sucking, he just couldn’t stop. 

the sensation and feeling of his tongue running over your wet pussy while you swirled and whined for him to stop while you simultaneously rolled your hips against your face, you acting like you didn’t want it only gave him more reason to keep going. 

he should’ve felt bad for having you squirt on his face multiple times and your pussy juice dripping off his skin but the more he typed on the forum the more he started to feel aroused by the actions that took place earlier. 

he only wanted to give his good girl a reward for being so needy, but you just had to keep rolling those hips of yours and spreading your legs out. 

fuck… the more he wrote, the better he felt about the situation.if anyone else was in his position with a pretty girl pussy deep in his mouth and his tongue exploring regions that shouldn’t be discussed, they too would’ve kept going. 

it was so sexy and hot that tears were rolling down your face while your hands were in his hair and pulling it trying to get him off of you from the overstimulation, that he came in his pants. 

the only defense that he had was the fact that this was a mistake, and he was only supposed to eat you out until you came, but his plans were ruined when your fluid glistened on his chin and your wet pussy tempted his eyes. 

his tongue flicking back and forth while his two fingers worked in and out of you with great speed. you couldn’t be mad at him for this, it’s your fault for having such a pretty pussy that needs to be taken care of. 

don’t make him the villain. he was only helping you with the pleasure that you so desperately craved. seeing you overstimulated and sobbing from the overwhelming sense ecstasy you were getting from him and only him, it turned him on. 

at certain points while deep inside you, his eyes would roll, and he would moan, and the vibrations from his moaning made you cum even more. 

after submitting that into the subreddit, replies came flooding in on how he wasn’t the asshole, and that made him grin. 

giving him even more reason to bust into the bathroom and eat you out again.

lately what’s on my mind is how husband! toji eats you out? he takes his time with it. not on purpose, but for his own pleasure. slowly sliding off your panties, his heart beating fast against his tee, as your wet cunt is being exposed inch by inch. he specifically likes you on the edge of the bed so he can pull you, your legs over his shoulders. he takes a min, to take in all that is in front. etching every detail into his mind, you can feel his warm breath on your throbbing nub. “s’pretty” he’s completely mesmerized, pussy drunk, he leans in pressing soft kisses, slowly on your inner thighs. now he’s back to facing your throbbing bud. he press a kiss on your wet folds, but his lips don’t touch your aching clit. he softly sucks on your slick folds. his grip on your thigh, digging slightly into your skin. his tongue delves deeper, into your tight hole. he on purpose leaves your clit unattended. he smiles as you squirm, the only place you want his attention is your clit, but he saves the best for later. he gets back to sucking your folds, slurping and lapping the juices. the tip of his tongue, touches your nub’s hood, you bit your lip lightly, to stifle the moan. he presses a chaste almost, not even touching your clit, a kiss. you whine, he smirks. by now his cock, is hard, staining his pants with a little precum. he finally lowers his head, his warm tongue, enveloping your clit. he circles his tongue around the hard nub, you arch your back into his mouth, squeezing your eyes shut. your right hand gripping his jet black hair. he slightly grazed his teeth on your swollen clit, you moan loudly. “tojiiiiiii”. he smirks, spitting a little on your clit, to suck it again. but it’s no more slow, it’s dirty, loud and so good. the room is filled with your breathy moans, sometimes loud, most of all slurping sounds. he moans against your clit as he sucks, relentlessly. his cock, hard, throbbing in his gray sweats. he wants to fuck you then and there, but remember he’s eating you out for his own pleasure. so he savors it slowly. you buck your hips against his face, to make more contact. you keep writhing, your feet off the bed, pushing his head deeper. “ahhh” you whine in frustration, cry wanting more now, you had enough of clitoral stimulation, you want more, to be fucked senseless, want to feel his weight pressing down on you. “tojiiiii” you softly say, your eyes slightly teary, you look into his eyes. “m-more….” you say barely above a whisper. his lips curl up one side, he stands up, pulling his tee over his head, dropping them to the floor, climbing up the bed. “i know mama”. you know it’s gonna be a good good evening.

(not edited at all, it’s been on my mind for so long. got it out of my system. not at all proof read)

any interaction is very much appreciated :)

suguru would lay between your legs and then slowly start caressing them, and when you noticed and shooed his hands away, he'd revert to kissing your legs, and the next thing you knew, your thighs were pushed back against your chest, and he was eating you out like a buffet.

there was something so sneaky about the way he did things, yet you just let him do them time and time again.

laying down on your inner thigh while scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking up at you to see if you notice, and when he sees you’re distracted, he’ll start kissing them.

“you’re so pretty,” he’ll say time and time again while simultaneously kissing up your thigh a little more until you can feel his breath hitting your core.

he loved teasing you and watching your face scrunch up with reactions as he did these things, but the overall goal was to get you not to push him off, and it worked every time.

“i just want to taste you, please,” while pulling down your shorts at the same time. no day passed by where he wasn’t tongue-deep inside you.

you’ll look down at him and see his dark eyes shine while rubbing up and down your thigh, and you’ll just let him go because, why not?

he does it so well anyway.

what man was going to lay in between your legs every day and beg to eat you out and make you feel good? the pleasure he gave you was so great that you couldn’t even complain.

even when he didn’t explicitly ask you, he knows that you’ll say yes, like always, because who else is going to make you feel that good?

pushing your legs back and slipping his fingers in and out of you with ease as moans slip out of your mouth and lumps get stuck in your throat from choking out your words.

if there was any chance he could have laying in between your legs, then he was right there; he didn’t care; it was easy access to him and extreme easy access when you had on shorts or a dress.

feeling you up, telling you how pretty you were, and roaming his hands over every inch and crevice of your body was his favorite pastime. time, if he wanted to eat you out because of how pretty you looked, then that’s what he was going to do.