18+
osamu always thought coming untouched was locker room talk bullshit.
that is, until a late evening finds the two of you tired and loose, laughing quietly and lazily making out on his couch after years spent on a tightrope of friendship and flirting and what ifs turned to why nots.
until his pants are on the floor and you’re left in nothing but a bra and a short skirt, and you end up in his lap with your legs wrapped around one of his own. you’ve made suggestive jokes about it before—about how stupidly thick and muscled his thighs still are even now, this long after hanging up his volleyball uniform. (about how rideable they look—your words, not his.)
osamu always thought coming untouched was complete and total bullshit—until he grasps your hips from beneath your bunched up skirt and sees the way your jaw falls slack in pleasure when you experimentally rock forward. until you bury your hands in his hair and whimper his name as you drag your bare pussy along his firm thigh again and again with increasing desperation, leaving behind a slick, soaking wet trail of arousal across his skin.
until you’re moaning and trembling against his mouth into a spit-soaked kiss as your pussy gushes with a climax so intense, you nearly break skin where your nails are digging into his back.
until you reach for the zipper of his pants after only to find his boxers soaked through with a messy, hot load of cum, his neglected, throbbing cock already spent of its own accord.
“oh,” he chokes out, voice rough, chest heaving.
arrival
You slide into your regular booth later than usual - a sweating bottle of your tried and true choice saving your spot as you catch the tail end of some heated debate between Katsuki and your best friend.
“Okay, but he’s really nice Bakugou—“
“Nice? Y’need therapy.”
He holds an arm out for you to settle in under, turning his head to kiss your temple in greeting.
“Okay so maybe he’s not nice all the time, but no one is nice all the time.”
You can feel the eye roll from your boyfriend without having to see it. “Is he fuckin’ twelve? There a reason he can’t control ‘imself when he’s grumpy?”
She sticks her tongue out at Katsuki, and you turn to press your smile into his shoulder. It’s endearing, the way he’s fit himself into the lives of your friends. The way he genuinely cares, in his own harsh way - the way he wants your friends to be treated well. He’s a girls’ girl through and through, even if you’d never say it to him. They have this argument every week.
Your friend picks at the label on her bottle, pouting.
“Okay, but isn’t it enough that I love him?”
Katsuki throws his head back and cackles. It’s mean, but the three of you know that he means well.
“That ain’t love.”
She huffs at that, setting her bottle down to cross her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at Katsuki. “You don’t know that.”
You feel him eyeing you then, and you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. He’s warm - the smile is in his eyes as yours pulls at the corners of your lips. He turns his head to take another swig from his drink.
“I know enough,” he says finally, arm around you tightening just a bit.
Your friend gags, and it makes you laugh. Katsuki is stubborn and crass, but he’s right about this.
OSAKITA
This is it- this is the main ship I will d!e on
idea from this tweet
this is canon.
Whalefall💫🩸
I saw this post and haven't known peace since
something about college bf ! kenma has me giggling n twirling my hair🤭
kenma that has his hair in a claw clip that you got him, now being a pro and twirling it into said clip
kenma that gives you a key to his apartment and isn’t surprised when he feels you behind him, hands on his shoulders as he works on another last minute assignment
kenma who holds your hands all the time, because “they’re really soft, i dunno, i just find them comforting”
kenma who’s known widely around campus as ‘that one box dyed quiet guy’ but to you, is your chaotic, beautiful boyfriend
kenma who stays up til odd hours with you, doing stupid things and screaming at eachother while you game
kenma who only laughs at your jokes because “we have the same humor , obviously. we’re just better than everyone else.”
kenma who refuses to give back anything you lend him. clothes, clips, books, pens, he keeps everything of yours. he also wears your clothes half the time to campus, but no one really knows that it’s yours. they just assume he has a very spontaneous dressing style.
kenma who cannot go a day without you scratching his under cut, running your nails over it and massaging all his worries away.
kenma who looks at you with heart eyes whenever you talk about your course, because “you just light up when you talk sometimes, it’s really cute to look at”
kenma who sends you the sweetest ‘hey, i know you’re asleep but..’ paragraphs at ungodly times, so you wake up happy
kenma who confessed by pulling up to your house with a boom box playing ‘pluto projector’ and waiting for you to let him in. he sat down on the couch and made you listen to him recall every moment that led up to him falling inlove with you.
“and then there was that time when you made me coffee when i was working, even though i told you to fuck off and..” he looks at you with shiny, gleaming eyes,” you sat on the floor next to me, and waited, and when i was done you said you were proud-,” he stops himself from raising his voice, hands finding your own as stray strands of bleach- blond hair fall into his eyes at the aggression of his movement,” i can’t remember the last time someone saw me, my work, my effort. they always thought i wasn’t trying or that i didn’t care to try but you, yn,” your best friend got close, so close that you couldn’t breathe, so close that if he was any closer - you think he’d kiss you,
kenma was breathless trying to explain- trying to get his point across as he continued,“you always saw me. who i am and who i’m not. and i realised that the reason you never got tired of me is because you couldn’t get enough of me and god,” a loud sigh left his lips as a wide smile etched across his face ,” i’ve never felt more wanted in my life. “
IS IT CASUAL NOW?
issei matsukawa x f!reader
Casually asking your werewolf roommate to put his scent on you to ward off creeps is...well. It's platonic, until it's not.
wc: 2k tags: 18+ only, werewolf!matsukawa, roommates to lovers speed run, dry humping, mattsun's big dick, werewolf scenting -> 2k event
“Matsukawa.”
Your roommate looks up from where he’s idly scrolling through his phone on the couch, eyes widening a fraction once he sees your outfit.
Self-consciously, you tug at the hem of the short dress, steeling yourself to ask the question that’s been idling in your mind all afternoon. “I’m supposed to be going to The Black Crow tonight for my friend’s birthday—”
“My condolences,” he cuts in, face blanching slightly as he puts his phone down on the coffee table.
Sighing, you nod. “Yeah, it wasn’t my first pick either. But anyway, I kind of wanted to ask you for a favor.”
He winces. “Please don’t tell me your friend is still trying to get you to hook her up with me.”
It’s embarrassing how relieved you were when he shot that down months ago—not that you’d ever tell him that.
You shake your head, snorting. “No, definitely not. I just…I want to have a good time without having to deal with the weirdos that always hang around there. And one of the girls in my lit class the other day was talking about how nice it is to have a were boyfriend, because she’s always scented when she goes out now. Nobody bothers her.”
Matsukawa waits patiently for you to continue.
“SoIwasmaybewonderingifyou’dscentmebeforeIleave.”
He blinks.
“As a friend,” you add, for good measure, to punctuate your mortifying word vomit.
He blinks again, lips parting.
Heart pounding with embarrassment, you turn on your heel and squeak out, “God, I knew that was going to be weird. Forget I said anything please and thanks. Bye!”
“Wait.”
You’re stopped by a hand loosely wrapping its way around your wrist, Matsukawa leaning forward off of the couch cushions.
Soul three-quarters into its journey of leaving your body, you slowly turn to face him once more.
“I don’t mind. I just want to make sure you know what you’re asking for.”
There’s something slightly odd that wavers in his voice when he says it, his throat bobbing as he swallows.
“You just have to like, hold me for a little bit, right?”
He looks up at the ceiling before returning his gaze to you. “Yeah, uh. It’s not that. You’re a human, so it might not affect you in the same way. But it’s…scenting is very intimate for my kind. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, if it ends up being too much.”
Crossing your arms, you furrow your brow. “We’ve been friends for like, eight years, Mattsun. We’ve hugged plenty of times. I’ll be fine.”
Scratching the back of his head, he nods, gesturing for you to come and sit next to him on the couch. “Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”
He puts an arm around you, his skin warm against your bare shoulders. Your heart knocks against your ribcage at his proximity, as it always has, but that’s a secret you’ll keep firmly locked behind your teeth. You asked Matsukawa to do this because you trust him, nothing more.
Slowly, gentle notes of pine begin to settle over you, drifting and settling like delicate needles atop freshly fallen snow.
It’s subtle, but something inside of you stirs all the same, rising like dust motes in a cracked window’s breeze.
Your skin prickles.
Your toes curl.
Matsukawa leans in, his nose pressed to the side of your neck, and like a carefully twisting dial, the smell is amplified. A sweet, herbal scent dances across your nostrils, tickling the back of your throat—lavender. A field of purple flowers sways delicately in the wind, and you feel warm all over.
Your tongue rests heavily in your mouth.
“Is this okay?” he asks, lips moving against your neck as he speaks.
Your ribcage shudders beneath the weight of what’s blooming behind it, a trellis for the edges of your fragile heartstrings.
You nod.
Matsukawa inhales and begins to drag his nose down the side of your neck, the day-old stubble on his cheeks tickling your skin as he rubs his face against it.
Lemon. The clean scent of lemon trickles in, buried beneath the pine and lavender. You want to tip your head back and part your lips, feel drops of sour juice sink onto your tongue.
(You want Matsukawa to grasp your chin, to slip his thumb into your mouth and hold your tongue there as you inhale—)
Your fingers dig into the couch cushions.
You swallow.
Matsukawa’s wavy black hair is soft against your face as he moves to the base of your throat. And it’s funny, because you know the eucalyptus scent of his shampoo like the back of your hand, can picture the brown bottle where it sits nestled between your shaving cream and body wash.
But right now, while you specifically remember the sight of his dripping wet hair this morning when he walked into the kitchen after showering, right now—
You can’t smell it at all.
Not over the all-consuming scents that permeate you from head to toe.
“Oh,” you gasp, unable to hold back the noise that slips out of you, gut churning at the sensation as his lips skirt your collarbone.
He pauses, slowly going to pull away, and before you can think better of it, you thread your fingers in his hair.
“No, no,” you exhale, a little dazed. “It’s fine, it’s…keep going.”
He’s still for a moment.
“Please,” you add.
Matsukawa breathes out, his breath hot and damp against your sternum, and you roll your shoulders.
Pine and lavender and lemon and heat—
“I should move to your other side to get the rest—”
You shift, not waiting for him to finish his sentence as you start to throw a leg over his lap, your body acting before your mind can fully contemplate the action. Matsukawa grunts, and the room sways as strong hands grip your waist, pulling you fully into his lap in one swift movement. Your dress is rucked up enough to allow your thighs to spread wide, and you try not to think about the way your panties are now on clear display.
Forehead falling against his, you’re both quiet, save for the sounds of your breathing.
“Okay?” he asks, voice a little rough.
“Yeah.”
Matsukawa leans back in, bringing his face to the other side of your neck that he’s yet to rub his scent on. It’s more difficult to mask how affected you are by this, now that you’re straddling his lap. Your mind floats untethered in a lush forest, and you unconsciously press closer.
Something rumbles in Matsukawa’s chest, and the hand that’s still curled around your hip flexes, thumb pressing into your hipbone. His free hand slides up to the back of your neck, fingers slipping through the hair at your nape.
Lush lavender interspersed with pine needles.
Matsukawa’s face strays a haphazard path as he scents his way across all of the exposed skin he can reach, his breathing going a bit ragged.
Lemons and tall trees and a soft forest floor.
You tilt your head to the side, and he buries his face in the tender juncture between your shoulder and neck.
“Matsukawa,” you exhale.
Matsukawa shifts, and teeth graze your skin.
You’re on the verge of combusting.
“Issei, please.”
It was an accident, the slip of his name. But Matsukawa just shudders beneath you, one hand cupping the side of your face. “I can stop, if you want.”
He misunderstood.
And you’ve slipped so deeply into the cradle of his lap, his erection now lies flush against your cotton panties.
“No,” you whisper. “No, I don’t want you to stop.”
“Why?” he rasps.
Your lips move of their own volition, “It feels so good.”
He growls, but the sound is somehow soft. It goes right to the simmering heat between your legs all the same. “Yeah?”
You nod, inhaling slowly as you run a hand over your sternum, body arching into his.
“Then enjoy it,” he murmurs, both hands now on your hips.
He breathes hot and heavy against your shoulder, and you card your fingers through his black hair. Giving in to the urge, you tug, just a little. Just hard enough for him to—
“Hah—” he exhales, tongue sliding in a firm, broad stroke over the low neckline of your dress, skirting the swell of your breasts.
Matsukawa rocks his hips upward, fingers pressing into your skin, and you gasp at the friction of his hard cock against your swollen clit. You belatedly realize just how wet your panties are, the material now soaked through with sticky arousal as it clings to your sopping folds.
“You have no idea,” he grounds out. “How good you smell.”
“Me?” you ask, breathless. You thought scents were strictly a werewolf thing.
He nods, dragging his nose from the hollow of your throat to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe. “Humans can't smell themselves, but wolves can.”
He inhales deeply.
“Salt water and oranges,” he groans.
Your chest flutters at this new information, and he nips at your earlobe.
“But when you’re—” He groans, rocking his cock against your clothed cunt again. “When you’re like this…”
In any other situation, you might be mortified over what he’s implying. But right now, all you can do is whimper as he places a hot, open-mouthed kiss over the corner of your jaw and tells you how you smell when you’re aroused with a gravel-rough voice that will fucking haunt you until you die, probably.
“It gets sweeter…like a peach,” Matsukawa murmurs. “Drives me fuckin’ crazy.”
Oh.
Your cunt aches as you dry hump his erection, mouth watering at the sheer length of it. When you look down, the back of your neck heats up as you see the dark stain on his gray sweatpants, your slick arousal having soaked clear through your underwear.
He must see you looking, because one of his hands slides to the small of your back to urge you to keep going as he murmurs, “I don’t mind.”
You gasp when he presses up into you harder, and the zap of pleasure that ricochets in your chest and settles in your gut leaves you dizzy with need. Shiny precum pools on his abdomen, the head of his cock flushed red as it pokes out from the waistband of his pants.
“Issei, can you—” your chest heaves as you try to get the words out. “Will you ki—”
Matsukawa doesn’t let you finish, one large hand cupping the back of your head as he brings his mouth crashing into yours. He swallows down your gasp of surprise, the moan of pleasure that leaves you at the feeling of his plush lips slotted against your own.
His stubble caresses your chin as his tongue skirts the seam of your mouth, beckoning your lips to part. Matsukawa deepens the kiss, his other hand wholly palming your ass while you drag yourself up and down his length. It’s possessive, the way he’s touching you now. Your entire body shudders and trembles with pleasure, your raw nerves alight as your composure slips with each thrust.
Pine and lavender and lemon and Issei, Issei, Issei—
You don’t realize you’re crying out his name until you feel him cup your face and start to murmur your own, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watches you come in his lap.
When you can finally breathe again, you look down to find thick ropes of cum all over his t-shirt as he tugs up the waistband of his pants to cover his spent cock.
Pine.
Lavender.
Lemon.
Issei.
He blinks a few times, dragging a hand through his hair before he stares at you, dazed.
Your phone vibrates on the coffee table, and there’s a banging noise at the front door, followed by the distant shout of one of your friends yelling, “Let’s paaaaaarty!”
But what the fuck just happened—
You glance between the door and Matsukawa, and he gives you a lopsided smile. “Go.”
Sighing, you start to pull yourself out of his lap, but a firm grip on your hip stops you. Matsukawa takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he adds, “We’ll talk about this later.”
THIS PICTURE OF INUMKAIBSLBSOMONE KILL ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Yuta is a switch idc what anyone says, one moment he'd be this sweet boy looking into your eyes while your riding him as his hands caresses your back and letting you do whatever you want to him, so eager and desperate for you to praise him and call him a good boy then a moment later he'd have folded forcefully in a mating press, his strong hands keeping your legs in tact as he bullies his fat cock deep into your tight needy hole fast and hard, heavy ball sacks slapping against your asshole as tears leak from your eyes as he fucks you silly while your clawing his biceps and back, your sweet loud moans filling the room as he tells you to be a good little girl for him and take it.
He'd manhandle you on his cock whenever he feels like him, while your riding him and he feels like it, you'd have big strong arms gripping onto your ass and forcefully lifts you up and down on his thick length, the action getting you off guard as you quickly wrap your arms around his neck for dear life while he stretches and bullies your cunt and use you as his ragdoll.