notshinya

[notshinya]

I love you and your writing so much like AHHHHH!!!♡⁠(⁠Ӧ⁠ｖ⁠Ӧ⁠｡⁠)

THANK U SO MUCHHHHHH !!<3

Yall making me blush 🤭🤭

[notshinya]

[notshinya]

Hey just letting you know you tagged your most recent fic "jjk smau" when its not an smau. Just throught i should let you know :)

Hey! Thank u so much for letting me know !:) I fixed it^^!

[notshinya]

ur dumbass choso fic ain’t no smau learn how to tag shit properly

Yes it was my mistake with the tagging and I fixed it. But honestly, there’s no reason to be rude or disrespectful over something that can be solved with a simple message.

Hating because of a simple tag mistake is insane 🙏😭

[notshinya]

ᛪ༙┆DRABBLE ⎯ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 — can I ?

» Can I… touch you? « Choso asks quietly, glancing up at you with those dark, searching eyes. His cheeks are flushed pink, his voice unsure, almost trembling.

You’re straddling his lap, feeling the hard press of him beneath you, though you don’t comment on it. Your simple top hangs loose over your chest—no bra underneath—and his hands rest tentatively at your waist.

There’s a faint twitch in his fingers, like he’s fighting the urge to move them higher, to reach for what he really wants.

» Of course, « you murmur, threading your fingers once through his black hair, watching the way his breath hitches as he shyly lifts one hand.

His gaze lingers on the neckline of your shirt—focused, yet hesitant. And when he finally cups your breast, his exhale comes unsteady, almost like the contact alone has stolen the air from his lungs.

His touch is gentle, delicate, as if you might break under his hands.

» You don’t have to hold back, « you tell him softly, your words giving him just enough courage to press in a little firmer.

Heat blooms low in your belly at the way he touches you now—more certain, more deliberate—and your hips shift instinctively, brushing against the solid length beneath you.

Bit by bit, Choso grows bolder. His palms knead the softness of your breasts, fingers curling around them, thumbs brushing experimentally over your nipples.

When he lifts the hem of your shirt, the movement is slow, almost reverent. He leans forward, lips brushing against your skin, and the warmth of his mouth closes over you. His tongue circles lazily, teasing, while his other hand stays on your other breast, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers.

A sharp breath escapes you. Your eyes flutter closed. Choso isn’t rough—there’s no aggression in him. Just a steady, unhurried care that makes your skin prickle and your pulse race.

»Do you like that?« he asks, his voice low, muffled against your chest. His head is nestled between your breasts, and when he tilts his face up to look at you, there’s a softness there that almost undoes you.

You nod, a faint, breathless smile curling your lips. »More than that…«

© 2025 shinyac0re ; ━━ do not copy, translate or use my work in any form!

[notshinya]

hi shin ok wait hear me out real quick—

breeding kink w/ bunny iglesias 🌝

i know he’s still new and we barely know anything about him yet, but just... listen. trust me.reader gets taken rough. raw. no pulling out. he leans in all close, whispering—“take it all.” she’s trembling, literally made to be filled. it’s deep. hard. relentless. he fills her up completely, breath hot against her ear—“you’re mine to fill.”every thrust is claiming.every drop stays inside. 🌝🌝🌝

btw i love your fics sm 😭💕you always drop the hottest ideas so casually and i’m obsessed.like??? this is chaos and art at the same time.never stop sending me this kind of stuff okay. you’re literally so iconic 😭🫶💋

Hellooo!!!

im always ready for hear me outs 🫡

But first of all thank you so much for ur kind words?!?! 😭 thats soo sweet😞

You can find ur request here <klick and I hope your going to enjoy ittttt!;) lmk if u want to

[notshinya]

⸝ ᛪ༙┆EVERY DROP ! ⎯ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐈𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐒

summary: Iglesias fucks you rough, deep, and with one goal only—filling you up and making sure every drop stays inside.

warnings: dom!Iglesias, breeding kink, creampie, choking (light), rough sex, explicit language, possessive behavior, filthy talk, nsfw

wc: 0,93k

» Yeah, you like that? « he pants, breath hot and ragged as he holds your ass up and thrusts into you again—hard, deep, unforgiving.

You can’t answer. You can only moan. » Ahh—!«

Your head’s buried in the mattress, face twisted in pleasure, your knees barely holding you up as he keeps you bent—ass high, exposed, spread wide for him.

Iglesias grips your hips tighter, fingers digging in so deep you know you’ll see bruises tomorrow. He fucks you in place, pounding into you like he owns every part of you—stretching you wide, pushing in until your brain can’t even hold thoughts anymore.

»Oh my God—« you cry out, voice cracked and desperate, trembling under the weight of it all. » I-Iglesias—!«

»You take me so fucking good, « he growls, voice like gravel in your ear. »Every. Fucking. Inch.«

He palms your ass, squeezes hard, then slides his hand up your back—pressing between your shoulders until your chest sinks into the mattress and your ass tilts even higher.

» Fuck, if you could see yourself right now…«

He shifts his angle—harder, deeper—and the new position knocks the air out of your lungs. But you don’t come. Not yet. You can’t—your body is right there, balanced on the edge, but Iglesias knows how to keep you hanging. He fucks you right up to your limit and then drags you back just enough to make you ache for it.

»Not yet, « he growls, voice thick with control. » I wanna feel you beg for it.«

He slows down—barely—but it’s enough to drive you mad. His cock still hits all the right places, still stretches you wide and full, but the rhythm turns agonizing. Deliberate. Like he’s studying every twitch in your body.

You whimper, fists clenching in the sheets. » Please…«

» Yeah?« he taunts. » Please what?«

You choke on your words, hips pressing back into him on instinct. Anything to get more. Deeper. Faster. » Please fuck me—harder—I need—«

» You’ll get it,« he cuts you off, voice suddenly low and sharp. » But not until you feel it. Not until you’re shaking, clenching and aching to be filled.«

His words make your spine arch, your thighs press together involuntarily. You can feel your body pulling him in, trying to take everything he gives—even as he holds back just enough to torture you with the promise of more.

He leans down again, chest warm against your back, his hand wrapping gently—almost too gently—around your throat as he whispers

» You want me to fill that pretty pussy? So deep you’ll still feel me leaking out days later?«

A broken sob escapes your throat. » Yes—please—I want it, I want all of it—«

Your whole body burns, your skin flushed, cunt aching and desperate—but he’s still dragging it out. Still teasing that sharp, unbearable edge.

And just when you think you can’t take it anymore—when your vision goes blurry and your body feels like a live wire—he grins against your ear and growls,

» Good. Now fucking come for me.«

» Ahhh—! « you scream, muscles clenching around him so tight it nearly chokes him out.

» Shit, you’re squeezing me like you want every drop,« he mutters, and you swear you hear the edge of a laugh in his voice. A dark one.

» Bunny, I—fuck—«

You shake your head helplessly, eyes clenched shut, but there’s no escape. No mercy. You can’t form words anymore—only sounds. Gasps. Whimpers. Pleas that go nowhere.

Your orgasm hits like a fucking explosion—violent and wet and all-consuming. And he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. He fucks you through it, hips slamming into yours like he’s chasing something far beyond just release.

Your legs collapse beneath you, useless and trembling, but he wraps an arm around your waist and keeps you up. Forces you to take more.

He leans over you, breath scorching against the back of your neck.

» Take every fucking drop, « he whispers, voice filthy and slow. »You’re gonna be so full of me, baby. I’ll fuck it into you if I have to.«

He keeps thrusting—too fast, too rough—until his rhythm breaks, his breath stutters, and his cock twitches deep inside you.

» Fuuuckkk! « he groans, teeth grit, and then he comes. Deep. Hot. Thick. Spilling everything into you until there’s nothing left.

He stays buried in you, grinding slow, making sure not a single drop goes to waste.

» Shit, « he breathes against your skin, » you’re mine to fill. That’s what you’re for, yeah?«

He pulls out slowly, and you collapse—body limp, breath gone, thighs shaking uncontrollably. But his arm’s still around your waist, holding you up like he’s not done.

His eyes drop to your pussy—dripping, glistening, swollen and leaking his cum.

» Fuck, « he mutters under his breath, like he’s mesmerized.

Two fingers slide through the mess, catching the spill before it escapes. And without warning, he pushes them back into you—deep, possessive.

» Ahh—!« you jolt, twitching around him, overstimulated and ruined.

» Sorry, doll,« he murmurs, though his tone says otherwise. » But every drop stays in. You’re not wasting a fucking thing.«

He fingers it back into you slowly, watching the way your body reacts.

» Bet your cunt’s still hungry, « he mutters, more to himself than to you.

He leans closer, his voice low, dangerous

» You want me to fill you up, again don’t you, doll?«

You whimper, and he fucking grins. » I see the way you beg for it. The way your pussy milks me,«

© 2025 shinyac0re ; ━━ do not copy, translate or use my work in any form!

[notshinya]

Hello, how are you i was wondering what onesho you will do with your favorite characters all time in a NSFW one-shot with the mating press sexual position ? i was thinking on asking you if you know some Diabolil Lovers characters like Sakamaki Shu, Sakamaki Reiji, Sakamaki Ayato, Sakamaki Kanato, Sakamaki Laito and Sakamaki Subaru but on you blog i would prefer to see who's your favorite characters and what will you do the mating press position with the female reader ?

Heyy! Im doing great thx for asking!:)

I’d definitely be open to writing fem!reader in that position!

I don’t really have one favorite character to write, but I can imagine a few that would fit well for a oneshot where fem!reader is in that position.

The first one that came to mind was Michael Kaiser!

Unfortunately, I haven’t watched Diabolik Lovers, and I only know Ayato by name and through a few edits! 😭

[notshinya]

I wanna scroll through ur acc but i’m on the bus and my sister sits next to me and I’m only seeing the smut posts.

Sorry nano😞

I need to start writing less smut for you…

I went through all my posts and found the ones without smut! You can find them below 😋😋

SHUT UP ! ➽ Chigiri Hyoma

JEALOUSY ! ➽ haikyuu headcanon ! Kuroo & Bokuto

COMFORT YOU !➽ Bokuto Kotarou

KEEP LIVING ! ➽ Yuji Itadori

NO WORDS NEEDED ➽ Kaji Ren

LOVE NOTE ➽ Umemiya Hajime

TEACH ME ! ➽ Umemiya Hajime

BEING HURT ➽ wbk headcanon ! Haruka, Suo, Hajime & Ren

YOUR SISTER?! ➽ wbk oneshot !

[notshinya]

⋮ ⌗ ┆ POISON ,, michael kaiser 𐚁request

⸻ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟

𖹭.ᐟ michael kaiser xx gn﹗reader 𖹭.ᐟ heavy angst,, toxic relationship,, codependency,, mental health struggles,, intense emotions,, unhealthy dynamics 𖹭.ᐟ warnings :: toxic behavior,, emotional manipulation,, physical altercation (slapping),, mental health issues,, unhealthy coping mechanisms 𖹭.ᐟ word count :: 1649 ౨ৎ 【bllk masterlist】

the sound of your palm connecting with kaiser's cheek echoes through his apartment like a gunshot.

for a moment, neither of you move. your hand stings, your chest heaving with the force of emotions you can't name, can't control.

kaiser's head is turned to the side, a red mark already blooming across his pale skin, and when he slowly turns back to face you, his eyes are dark with something that might be fury.

"feel better?" his voice is quiet, dangerous, but there's something else underneath it. something that sounds almost like understanding.

you want to hit him again. you want to scream. you want to collapse into his arms and let him hold you while you fall apart, because he's the only person who's ever seen you like this and stayed.

"i hate you," you whisper, but your voice breaks on the words.

"no, you don't." kaiser steps closer, close enough that you can see his eyes, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. "you hate yourself. there's a difference."

the accuracy of it makes you flinch, makes something raw and vulnerable crack open in your chest. because he's right, isn't he? he's always right about the ugly parts of you, the twisted parts that you've never let anyone else see.

"don't," you say, backing away until your spine hits the wall. "don't do that you fucker. don't analyze me like i'm one of your opponents."

"but you are, aren't you?" his smile is sharp, cruel in the way that only kaiser can be. "we're always fighting, liebling. even when we're fucking, even when we're sleeping, we're at war with each other."

he's close enough to cage you against the wall now, his hands braced on either side of your head. you should push him away. should leave, should run, should do any of the things that healthy people do when relationships become weapons instead of shelter.

instead, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him down to kiss you.

it's brutal, all teeth and desperation and the taste of blood where you bite his lip too hard. he kisses back with equal violence, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just hard enough to make you gasp against his mouth.

this is what you are together—beautiful and terrible and completely destructive.

when you break apart, both of you are breathing hard, and there are tears on your cheeks that you don't remember shedding.

"why do we do this?" you ask, your forehead pressed against his. "why do we keep hurting each other?"

kaiser's hands frame your face, thumbs brushing away your tears with surprising gentleness. for a moment, his mask slips, and you can see the boy underneath—broken and desperate and just as lost as you are.

"because we understand each other," he says quietly. "because when i look at you, i see all the ways i'm damaged, and it doesn't scare me."

"it should," you whisper. "we should scare each other."

"we do." his laugh is hollow, bitter. "that's why it works."

three days later

you haven't spoken since the fight. haven't texted, haven't called, haven't done any of the desperate things you usually do when the silence stretches too long between you.

you're trying to be healthy. trying to break the cycle. trying to prove to yourself that you can exist without the constant push and pull of whatever toxic thing you and kaiser have created together.

it's not working.

you can't sleep. can't eat. can't focus on anything because part of your mind is always wondering what he's doing, if he's okay, if he's thinking about you too.

your therapist would be proud of the attempt, at least. dr. yamamoto has been telling you for months that your relationship with kaiser is unhealthy, that you're enabling each other's worst impulses, that you need to learn to be alone before you can be with someone else.

she's right, of course. she's always right.

but she's never felt the way kaiser looks at you like you're the only real thing in his world, like your darkness matches his so perfectly that being apart feels like trying to breathe underwater.

it's past midnight when you find yourself standing outside his building, your key card trembling in your hand. you shouldn't be here. shouldn't have come. should turn around and go home and try to be the kind of person who can walk away from things that hurt them.

but you're not that person. you're the kind of person who sees poison and drinks it anyway because at least it tastes like something.

his apartment is dark when you let yourself in, but you can hear the shower running. can smell his cologne lingering in the air, mixed with something sharper—whiskey, maybe, or the particular scent of sleeplessness that seems to follow both of you around.

you sit on his couch and wait.

when kaiser finally emerges from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist, he doesn't seem surprised to see you. doesn't ask how you got in or why you're there or any of the questions a normal person might ask.

instead, he just looks at you with those calculating eyes and says, "three days, fourteen hours, twenty-six minutes."

"what?"

"that's how long you lasted." he moves to his bar cart, pours himself a glass of something expensive and amber-colored.

doesn't offer you any, because he knows you don't drink when you're like this. "i was betting on two days."

"i tried," you say, and you hate how small your voice sounds. "i really tried to stay away."

"i know." he settles into the chair across from you, and there's something almost gentle in his expression. "i tried too."

"how long did you last?"

his smile is self-deprecating, bitter. "six hours. i made it six hours before i drove past your apartment building like some pathetic stalker."

the admission makes something loosen in your chest, some tight knot of anxiety and self-loathing that's been choking you for days. you're not the only one who's weak. you're not the only one who can't let go.

"we're fucked up," you say.

"completely," he agrees, taking a sip of his drink. "we're toxic and codependent and probably making each other worse."

"your therapist tell you that?"

"yours too, i'm guessing."

you nod, and for a moment you just sit in the darkness together, two broken people acknowledging their damage.

"i missed you," kaiser says quietly, and the simple honesty of it breaks something inside you.

"i missed you too."

he sets down his glass and comes to sit beside you on the couch, close enough that you can feel his warmth but not quite touching. waiting, you realize.

letting you decide if you want this, if you want him, if you're ready to fall back into the beautiful disaster of whatever you are together.

you lean into him, and his arms come around you like they belong there.

"we should probably break up," you murmur against his chest.

"probably," he agrees, his fingers stroking through your hair. "we're terrible for each other."

"we bring out the worst in each other."

"we enable each other's self-destructive tendencies."

"we're addicted to the drama."

"completely addicted," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

you pull back to look at him, and there's something soft in his expression, something vulnerable that he only shows you in moments like this.

"but i don't want to," you admit. "i don't want to break up. i don't want to be healthy if it means being without you."

kaiser's hands frame your face, thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. "then don't be. be fucked up with me instead."

"that's terrible advice."

"it's honest advice." he leans his forehead against yours. "we're not good people, liebling. we're selfish and damaged and probably beyond saving. but when i'm with you, at least i'm not alone in it."

"you make it sound romantic."

"isn't it?" his voice drops to a whisper. "finding someone who matches your particular brand of broken? someone who sees all your ugly parts and wants you anyway?"

maybe it is romantic, in its own twisted way. maybe love doesn't always look like healthy communication and mutual growth and all the things the self-help books say it should look like.

maybe sometimes love looks like two people who are drowning finding each other in the dark water and deciding to sink together rather than swim alone.

"kiss me," you whisper, and he does.

it's softer than usual, less desperate and more... grateful, maybe. like you're both acknowledging what you almost lost, what you almost threw away in the name of being better people.

when you break apart, kaiser's eyes are bright with something that might be tears.

"stay," he says, and it's not a command or a demand. it's a request, vulnerable and raw.

"okay," you agree, because you're tired of fighting what you are, tired of pretending you want to be somewhere else.

"we're going to hurt each other again," he warns as he leads you toward his bedroom.

"i know."

"we're going to fight and scream and probably break things."

"i know that too."

"and we're going to stay anyway."

you pause in the doorway, looking back at him—this beautiful, terrible man who understands your darkness because it matches his own.

"yeah," you say quietly. "we're going to stay anyway."

because this is what love looks like for people like you. not gentle or healthy or any of the things it's supposed to be, but real in a way that cuts straight to the bone.

you love each other like a wound that won't heal, like a fever that won't break, like two people who have found their perfect disaster and decided it's better than being alone.

and that's enough.

© 2025 ddreamhhollows

this oneshot is my FIRST request (link here)! so im quite scared it flopped lol... i hope you liked it <3

[notshinya]

Hey can we get part two of that Drabble of Shoto sending pics?? 🙏🏽

Heyyy!

ofc u can;) ur wish is my command! You can find it here <klick ! hope u enjoy!

[notshinya]

⸝ ᛪ༙ ┆PIC PIC PIC ! ⎯ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 pt 1!

summary : Shoto gives in to the tension between you, fucking you deep and desperate while worshipping every inch of your body — until you both finally come undone.

warnings: semi-dom!Shoto, riding, creampie, breast worship, dirty talk, overstimulation, explicit language, nsfw

wc : 1,5 k

It all happened so fast.

It was late, and Shoto had come by. He hadn’t texted. Hadn’t called. Just showed up at your door like a storm on the horizon.

A white t-shirt clinging to him. Gray sweatpants slung low on his hips.

And the second you opened the door, you crashed into each other like gravity had pulled you in. Your hands tangled around his neck, his arms cinched tight around your waist like they’d never left.

You stumbled back a few steps as he blindly kicked the door shut behind him, lips never leaving yours.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was two worlds colliding—messy, desperate, like the universe folded in on itself and all that remained was now. Just this. Just him.

His hands gripped your hips like he needed to anchor himself there, dragging you into his body as his hips pushed forward, slow but purposeful.

A breathless moan slipped from your throat.

» Shoto—«

He was hard. You felt him through the thin fabric of his sweatpants, pressing hot and heavy between your thighs. Even through your pajamas, he was impossible to ignore.

You were already wet—already aching—and your legs pressed together in instinctive response.

His hands slid to your ass, gripping, pulling, demanding. You moaned into his mouth, body humming, nerves alight and spinning out of control.

Then—he lifted you. Just like that. Effortless.

Your legs wrapped around his waist automatically, your body fitting to his like you belonged there. He rolled his hips into you, grinding against your heat with an intensity that stole your breath.

» Fuck, Y/n, « he panted, his lips brushing hot against your neck as he inhaled your scent and dragged open-mouthed kisses across your skin. » You drive me fucking insane.«

Another thrust. His hips bucked and hit right where you throbbed.

»Oh my god, « you gasped.

Your fingers buried themselves in his hair, tugging, and he groaned against your throat. The sound sent shivers down your spine.

» My room—upstairs. Last door on the left, « you managed between panting breaths.

He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even look. Just carried you upstairs, one hand under your thighs, the other still gripping your ass like he couldn’t let go.

Once in your room, he laid you down on the bed so carefully, so reverently, as though you were something holy—but his eyes burned with anything but restraint.

He leaned over you, bracing himself on either side of your head, and his mouth was on yours again—demanding, hot, claiming.

You curled your arms around his neck, pulling him down until his chest grazed yours, until your nipples peaked beneath your shirt—hard and aching for him, even though he hadn’t touched them yet.

Then his hand slipped beneath the fabric.

It was barely a touch. Featherlight. But your breath caught anyway. Goosebumps rose in waves across your skin, like your body recognized him before your mind even could.

You weren’t wearing a bra.

And when he cupped your bare breast, you swore the air left the room.

» Fuck « he breathed, thumb brushing over your nipple in a slow, lazy circle. He teased, ghosted, then pressed harder—each motion deliberate, each flick drawing another shaky breath from you.

Sometimes he squeezed. Sometimes he massaged. Always with intention.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed the hem of your shirt and yanked it over your head, tossing it blindly across the room.

Shoto stared.

Didn’t even try to hide it.

His hair was a mess—thanks to your hands. His lips were swollen and parted. His voice cracked when he muttered, “Fuck. They’re perfect.”

Then his thumb was back on your nipple—and his mouth followed. He sucked your breast into the heat of his mouth and groaned like he was tasting something he’d craved for too long.

» Shoto! « you cried out, your head falling back into the pillows as you arched into him, offering more. He swirled his tongue around your nipple, while his hand rolled and kneaded the other, and you were a moaning, writhing mess beneath him.

Your hips rolled instinctively, brushing against his erection, and your breath hitched.

» Please, Shoto, « you whimpered, while he kissed and bit and sucked at your chest, unrelenting.

» I’m not done yet « he murmured into your skin, lips dragging across your breast as he claimed every inch of you.

He took his time—mouth on one, hand on the other, switching sides until you were trembling from the overstimulation.

Eventually, your patience snapped. Your hands slid to the hem of his shirt, fingers brushing over his abs on the way up. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, like he was barely holding on.

He pulled the shirt off seconds later.

You ran your hands down his torso, tracing every curve, every line of his muscles, until you reached his shoulders and dragged him back down—kissing him hard, messy, hungry.

Then his hand slipped beneath your waistband. His fingers hooked into both your pajama pants and your underwear in one motion and began to pull.

You helped him—wiggling out of the fabric, tossing it aside, and immediately reaching for his.

You yanked his sweatpants down without warning and gasped.

He was thick. Long. Pressed up against the dark fabric of his boxers, the swollen tip already peeking out—angry and flushed, a deep, dark pink.

A trail of hair beneath his navel led your gaze down, and your fingers followed.

You wrapped your hand around him through the fabric. Squeezed. Stroked.

The sound he made was guttural.

» Fuck, Y/n, « he groaned, eyes squeezing shut as he let his head fall back for a moment, just feeling.

Then—he pushed his boxers down.

His cock sprang free, hard and glistening, thick and perfect and standing tall between you.

You swallowed hard as he stripped the rest of the way and returned to you, hunger in his eyes.

» I want you on top, « he muttered, grabbing your hips and flipping you in one smooth motion.

Now, he leaned back against your pillows, his thighs beneath you, his cock pressing hot and hard between your bodies.

His hand slid down from your waist to between your legs. When he touched your soaked center, your whole body jolted.

» Mmhh—Shoto, « you whimpered, head falling back.

He pulled his hand away, slick with your arousal, and wrapped it around himself. The glimmer of your wetness on his tip made you tremble.

You lifted your hips, guided him to your entrance, and began to sink down.

Even halfway in, he stretched you wide. Too wide.

Your thighs shook, your hands gripping his shoulders for support.

»Fuck—Shoto—too big, « you gasped, frozen with him only halfway inside, your body struggling to adjust.

He groaned, deep and low, jaw clenched as he tried to stay still beneath you.

» You can take it, « he whispered, voice raw with restraint. » Just a bit more baby «

And you wanted to.

God—you needed to.

But the stretch was burning, dizzying. Every inch of him claimed you like he was made to fill you. And yet he hadn’t even bottomed out.

Your breathing stuttered, hands clutching at his skin.

He kissed you again. Deep, slow. His lips told you everything you couldn’t say.

And then—he bucked his hips.

You cried out.

He was everywhere. Too deep. Too full.

» So fucking tight, « he growls, his voice low as his hands grip your hips, steadying you while you adjust to his size.

He fills you to the last inch—burning, aching, too much and not enough all at once.

His hips twitch beneath you, a sharp thrust driving up into your body. You moan, helpless.

» Fuck, I’ve waited so long for this, baby, « he breathes, eyes locked on you as you start to rise, only to drop back down with a gasp.

»So big…« slips from your lips as your walls clench around him.

You move faster, your rhythm finding him, chasing the heat building between you. Skin slaps against skin, loud and wet, your broken moans tangled with his rough breaths filling the room.

» Mhm—Shoto, god… « Your head falls back, spine arching, as his gaze never wavers—locked on your chest, on the way your titts bounces with every thrust.

He grabs one breast, his fingers rough and desperate, while his mouth closes over the other, tongue swirling, sucking until you’re gasping.

»Ahh—! « you cry out, every muscle in your body tightening at once, coiling like a spring. Your nails dig into his shoulders, breath caught in your throat.

You feel it—his twitch, deep inside you. His hips stutter, driving up into you with wild, needy thrusts, pushing you over the edge.

» Ahh—Shoto, I’m gonna—! « you scream, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm hits, hard and overwhelming. Your legs tremble, heat exploding in your veins while he fucks you through it—deeper, harder, relentless.

» Shit, baby, « he growls, forehead damp, rhythm breaking apart as his own release chases yours. His thrusts turn messy, uncontrolled—

—until he spills inside you, warm and thick, and you collapse onto his chest, breathless.

He wraps both arms around you, presses a kiss to your head, and pulls the blanket up over your shaking bodies.

© 2025 shinyac0re ; ━━ do not copy, translate or use my work in any form!

[notshinya]

Why do you use 》《 instead of " " for dialogue?

I think its more pretty?😭

I started using them in 2022 and now im more used to it

Should I start using " " ?

[notshinya]

⸝ ᛪ༙┆LOVE LANGUAGE ! ⎯ 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈

summary: Sae’s touch is tentative, unsure but he’s learning, and fast. What starts as a soft exploration turns into something deeper, more focused, more overwhelming than either of you expected. He watches every reaction, asks what you like, what you need — and when you fall apart on his fingers, he looks at you like you’re the only answer he’s ever wanted.

warnings: soft dom!Sae, fingering, praise, overstimulation, inexperience, aftercare, light dirty talk, body worship

wc : 0,95k

»Do you… like that?« Sae asks, his voice low—uncertain, but trying not to show it.

You arch into him, skin brushing his, a quiet gasp caught in your throat. His left hand moves slowly over your chest, fingertips careful but curious, as his lips trail across your right nipple, tongue warm and tentative.

»Yes—« you breathe, eyes fluttering shut, fingers gripping the sheets like an anchor. »God, yes.«

It’s only been a month since your first time together—his first time ever. He’d asked you then—so softly, so seriously—if he could learn. If you’d let him figure out what makes you feel good. Since then, he’s asked every time. Asked what he should do. What you liked. What he could do better.

Tonight, he asked if he could try something different. If it would be okay. If you’d tell him when to stop.

Right now, there’s nothing in you that wants him to stop.

His tongue moves in slow, wet circles around your nipple, and his hand cups your breast, firm but gentle. His thumb brushes over the sensitive skin there, and you can feel the tension coiling deep in your stomach.

He lifts his head to look at you, lashes heavy, lips glistening with your skin. His cheeks are flushed—just a little—and he watches you like he’s searching for approval in your face.

»Is this… okay?« he asks again, quiet. His voice almost trembles.

You nod, immediately. »Don’t stop,« you whisper, shifting beneath him, silently begging for his mouth again.

And he gives it to you. Greedy, focused, his mouth latches back on, sucking gently, tongue flicking just enough to make your toes curl.

»I need more,« you pant, looking down at him, dazed from the way he touches you—heat curling low in your belly, spreading like wildfire through your limbs.

»Here?« he murmurs, lips brushing your stomach as he kisses lower. His fingers are already moving—ghosting over your thighs, then sliding between them. The moment he finds your wetness, his breath catches.

He drags his fingers through your slick heat, slow and almost reverent. »You’re already this wet?« he breathes, glancing up to see your reaction.

»Oh, fuck, Sae,« you moan, hips lifting into his touch, your body chasing the pressure on instinct.

»Do you… like this?« he asks again, eyes flicking up, waiting—always waiting—for your answer.

You nod, mouth open, too breathless to speak.

His fingers circle your clit slowly, then press down—just enough to make your thighs tremble. »Like this? Or… faster?« he asks again, and before you can answer, he speeds up—his fingers stroking in tighter, quicker patterns.

Your chest heaves, breath catching in your throat. Your body jerks at the sudden increase in pressure.

»Sae—!«

»Tell me what to do,« he whispers, kissing lower, down your stomach, to the waistband of your underwear. His fingers never stop moving—circling, teasing, spreading you open. »Should I… put a finger in?«

He doesn’t wait. His middle finger slides inside you in one slow push, and your body tenses around him, the stretch making your breath stutter.

»Shit, Sae!« you cry out, grabbing at his back, your hands clutching the fabric of his white shirt like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

»Like that? Or… faster?«

His finger moves again, slipping out and pressing back in—deeper this time, steadier. The sound it makes is obscene, but Sae doesn’t flinch. He watches you, watches every twitch of your hips, every shake in your thighs, like he’s trying to memorize all of it.

»Baby… you have to tell me what to do,« he murmurs again, and when you look up, he’s flushed and waiting. Hesitant. »I don’t know if I’m—«

»Another,« you gasp. »I need another—please.«

»A second?« he echoes, like he’s confirming. »Okay.«

He adds his ring finger beside the first, pressing them in together—and fuck, it’s perfect. The stretch burns, but it’s good. He moves faster now, trusting his instincts, and they’re good, too.

»You’re so wet… just for me,« he mutters, staring down at where his fingers disappear into you. His voice is a little hoarse, like he can’t believe how much he wants you right now.

You can’t think. Can’t breathe. All you can feel is the way he’s fucking you with his fingers—deep, fast, relentless. It’s overwhelming. And you can’t help but wonder how someone so new to this can be so damn good at it.

Your stomach tightens, your muscles contract, and the pressure in your core builds with every movement.

»I’m gonna—fuck, I’m coming—« you moan, your body trembling as the orgasm barrels toward you.

»Yeah? Come on my fingers, baby,« Sae breathes, leaning close again. »Let me see you.«

You fall apart.

Your climax hits you like a wave crashing through your entire body. Your back arches, eyes rolling back, and a cry rips from your throat as your thighs tremble around his hand. Sae doesn’t look away—not even once. He watches your body convulse, watches the way you fall apart just for him.

And then he pulls his fingers out—slowly, carefully—and brings them to his mouth.

He licks them clean like it’s instinct, like he needs to taste you. And the sight of it—the wet sounds, the way his tongue curls around his fingers—makes your legs press together, thighs clenching automatically.

»Did I… do okay?« he asks, voice quieter again, almost sheepish now. »Was that… good for you?«

You stare at him, lips parted, heart still racing.

»…Just shut up,« you mumble, breathless, pressing your face into his shoulder as he pulls you close.

And Sae—blushing, uncertain but proud—wraps his arm around you like he never wants to let go.

© 2025 shinyac0re ; ━━ do not copy, translate or use my work in any form!

[notshinya]

HI JUST READ MY REQUEST AND OMGGG I LOVED IT SO MUCH 🤍🤍🤍 thank you a million times for writing it! Even I was reading his words like a gardening article, now I want to have my own plants at home 🤭 loved your writing!! hope to read more from you in the future ✨

THANK YOU SO SO MUCHHH!! Glad you enjoyed 😭🙏

Go get them plantssss😋😋 unfortunately i might be just as terrible as the s/o in the os with plants,flowers etc😭🙏

[notshinya]

hello there!!! i’d love to request something 🤭 can I have an umemiya x reader one shot where they’re both on the rooftop at school and, you know how most of the time people write umemiya’s s/o as a good gardener too? well, i was thinking of the opposite jsjs maybe reader is TERRIBLE at keeping plants, and she feels so self conscious about it because her bf is so much better at a “femenine task”, but he tells her it’s not about gender but about patience and all that and teaches her by repotting a plant 🙂‍↕️ if it’s too specific you’re free to change anything ofc!! and if you do decide to write this request I hope you have fun with it!! thank you so much!’ 🤍

Hey !!

I Uploaded your request and hope your going to like it !:) you can find it here <klick

[notshinya]

⸝ ᛪ༙┆TEACH ME ! ⎯ 𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄

summary: You struggle with planting tomatoes, but Umemiya stays patient—reminding you that learning takes time, and care has no gender.

warnings: soft domestic moment, emotional support, gender roles discussion, gardening, comforting dialogue, self-doubt, gentle affection, slow intimacy, hurt/comfort

wc : 0,85k

»So, how’s it going?« Umemiya asks, leaning in slightly to glance over your shoulder, his tone calm but curious.

You crouch down with a sigh, wiping the sweat from your forehead with your arm.

» I think it’s going okay « you mumble, looking down at the holes you just formed in the fresh soil.

» Yeah, not bad. But try not to dig them too deep, alright? « he says, smiling warmly. » Just add a bit of soil back in.« He presses a soft kiss to your hair before turning back to his own bed, where he’s still working steadily.

You do what he said—gently filling the holes again until the depth seems right.

A few minutes pass. Then Umemiya comes back.

His white hair shifts slightly in the wind, and his pants are covered in dirt. So is his once-white t-shirt, now speckled with brown stains. But none of it bothers him.

» That’s already looking much better « he says with a grin. You can’t help but smile too.

» But if you place the holes too close together, they’ll block airflow. That creates moisture… and moisture leads to fungi « he explains, brushing some hair from his face. » So maybe just three holes instead of six.«

You let out a small sigh and drop backward onto the grass, your eyes following the sun above, then flicking back to him.

He leans over you a little, blocking the sunlight with his body, watching you with that steady, open look of his.

»Hey… you alright?« he asks, tilting his head just slightly. A few strands of his hair fall into his face.

You hesitate before speaking, your voice softer than before. » Am I even helping? I keep messing things up« you say quietly, lowering your gaze.

But Umemiya just smiles in that way only he can—gently, without judgment.

» Of course you’re helping « he says. » If you weren’t here, I’d be working twice as long.«

He sits down beside you, close enough that your shoulders touch. You lean into him slightly, your head resting against his as you close your eyes and feel the sun warming your back.

» Making mistakes is normal. That’s how you learn « he says, voice low but firm. He turns his head, flashing a small, toothpaste-commercial grin—but you can’t quite bring yourself to smile back.

» It’s just…« you start, then stop, shaking your head. You’re not sure how to say it without sounding stupid.

He nudges you gently at your side, giving you that patient, expectant look. » You feel like… what? « he asks, voice like syrup—slow, warm, and kind.

You draw a slow breath and look down at your hands, still coated in dirt.

»Planting things. Taking care of them. It feels so… feminine. And yet I still can’t do it right.«

Your shoulders slump. You feel a little silly saying it out loud—but also strangely powerless.

» Gender doesn’t matter « Umemiya says without missing a beat. » That’s just something people get taught to believe.«

You listen closely, the weight in your chest starting to shift.

» Society’s full of stuff like that, right? « he goes on. » Football’s for boys. Pink’s for girls. And if she can’t cook, is she even a woman? Just made-up rules passed down like they’re facts.«

His words settle into you—gently, but with a strange force. Like they push away some of the doubt clinging to your ribs.

» It’s okay not to know how to plant tomatoes« he adds after a pause. »Four years ago, I didn’t know either. But I learned. And if you want to, you will too. I’ll teach you.«

He gives you a lopsided grin, soft and real, and this time—you smile back. How could you not?

» Thank you « you whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

» Come on, I’ll show you how « he says, offering his hand.

You take it, and with a gentle tug, he pulls you up to your feet.

» So first, we’ll close up these ones « he explains, covering three of the holes you made earlier with fresh soil. »The others look good—not too deep, not too shallow.« His voice is encouraging, never harsh.

»If the hole’s too deep, the stem might rot. If it’s too shallow, it won’t hold and the plant could topple.«

You nod, listening closely, storing every word like it matters.

» The space between them is important too « he adds, pressing the soil down gently. » If they’re too close, they’ll block each other from the light once the leaves get bigger.«

He takes a small plant in his hands, eases it out of its pot, and lays it carefully into the hole, then gently begins covering it with earth.

» See? The leaves need space to breathe. Otherwise, they’ll start to shade each other out.«

» Got it « you say quietly. And that’s how the whole morning passes.

You listen to him, try your best to follow, ask questions when you’re unsure. He helps without making you feel small, and along the way, he keeps teaching—little by little, plant by plant.

© 2025 shinyac0re ; ━━ do not copy, translate or use my work in any form!