#then their heads are shoved way too far up in their asses

[gae-bolg-alternative-dot-exe]

There's something so insane about online Zionists that parade as leftists/progressives on this website. To stand up and speak up for social issues plaguing our world but at the same time being in LOVE with fascism. As if all cognitive thought is out the window the moment Israel is mentioned. Being a leftist or a staunch progressive is just some fucking act or disguise to put on to feel better about yourself.

To cry and clutch their pearls when someone uses the word 'zionist' as if its a personal attack on all Jews but to be able to ignore every massacre and atrocity that their beloved far right military settler state commits. Do they jump with glee when they read a news article of soldiers sniping children in the heads? Do they breath a sigh of relief when bombs are dropped on refuge tents during ceasefires? Do they laugh with their friends when they hear about the IDF constantly sexually assaulting and torturing prisoners they grabbed randomly off the streets? Do they shove their heads up their asses and simply not read or listen?

They are online so fucking much looking for ways to talk about antisemitism and Israel so how is it actually possible to avoid all the fucking depraved actions of Israel? Somehow believing that their genocide and apartheid is acceptable and righteous because surely in no way Zionists can act like the Nazi's did right? We don't use ovens. We use bombs, ammunition, starvation, and dehydration! We're so merciful! How does anyone not see that we're the good guys here!? All the American politicians support us :D!

To deflect any and all criticism of Zionism as antisemitism so they feel reassured that everyone against them is in the wrong. As everyone hates Israel only because their Jewish and not because of all the fucking atrocities. That everyone that denounces Israel HAS to be being puppeted by Nazi's. That no one else can simply fucking see and understand what's happening in Gaza. If anything, the Zionist inability to separate Judaism and Zionism is antisemitic and I fucking tired of hearing excuses. You can be Jewish and not stand for Zionism. You can be Jewish and not stand for Zionism. You can be Jewish and not stand for Zionism. Judaism is not Zionism.

Personally, I feel it's far past the point of no return for some but it's never too late to be Jewish and to cut your ties with Zionism. No one wants to be called a Nazi or compared to one but the fascist wasn't kicked out of the bar. The bar is now fascist too. Don't let them drag you down too. Be better. For everyone's sake.

[aesthetic-rxssxs]

Universe: Haikyuu Troupe: Academic Rivals 2nd Person Of View Warnings: Smut Words: 6552

"Short Skirt And An Even Shorter Fuse."

Tsukishima and you. The top of your classes and constantly fighting for the title of number one. He was older by one year, but you were in the same grade being that you had skipped a grade.

What you had thought was going to be a smooth and drama-free High School life, turned into more.

From snide remarks and jabs between you two, there was no room for smooth or drama-free. Pretty much the opposite if we're honest.

It got to the point where you'd deliberately cheer for everybody but Tsukishima on the Volleyball team at their games. Making sure to flip him off or stick your tongue out childishly.

Tsukishima would return it with a scowl or a roll of his eyes. He always prided himself on being good at things without trying. So, there was no way in hell he'd try now just to prove he was good to a nameless nobody he didn't even know that well. Right...?

Wrong. He did. Despite his best efforts to not let you get to him, you always managed to. It was to the point where even his team and coach noticed.

Coach Ukai even provided you with snacks from his convenience store just so you could motivate him to stop being so half-assed. And who were you to deny free food?

One day, you decided to take a new approach and instead cheer for the opposing team. Now, that got Tsukishima's attention.

That day, he had put in more effort than he had before. It surprised everyone. Even you.

They had won by a landslide and you'd think he'd be all smug—but no. He surprised everyone once again by storming off the second the whistle blew. Grappling onto your arm and dragging you out.

He took you to the girl's locker room and shoved you against the wall. His arms were on either side of your head while his eyes were as intense as you'd ever seen them. "What the hell was that?"

"Huh? What the hell was what?" You shook off the initial surprise with a scoff and crossed your arms defensively.

"Don't bullshit me. Why were you cheering for them?" He narrowed his eyes at you, his jaw ticked with tension.

"Because I wanted to. Why else?" You snarked back, clearly annoyed with his new way of annoying you—asking too many questions.

"No, you did it to piss me off. Well, guess what? Congratulations. You've officially pissed me off," He leaned down, his tall stature never intimidating before, suddenly switched to down-right terrifying at this moment.

"So what if I did?" You narrowed your eyes back at him, creating a false face of annoyance and nonchalance.

"So? So?" He scoffed in disbelief. "So, it pissed me the fuck off and now you have to deal with the consequences.

"Consequences?" You swallowed nervously. Not once had he shown this type of behavior to you. It was new and oddly attractive.

"Yup. Consequences." He breathed against your neck as he leaned his forehead right next to you against the wall. His hands clenched against the wall before his head tilted slightly to glance at you.

Your breath hitched and he was too far gone to mock you. Too tempted to waste time. Instead, he gripped the back of your neck and tugged you in for a rough kiss.

His other hand gripped your hip, tugging you closer as he kissed you eagerly. You were too shocked to do anything but melt into the kiss. Kissing back, you parted your lips.

That was all it took for him to strip off your shirt and tug you over to the showers, stripping his own clothes as he did.

Everything was a blur after that. From the last piece of clothing shed to the squeak of the shower's knob as it turned on, surrounding you with warm water, and to the sounds of skin on skin and the panting noises that came along with it.

Your back against the cold wall as Tsukishima held you up, panting and grunting in your ear as he rolled his hips. His arms tightened around your lower back as he held you up.

The feeling of his dick running along your walls as he fucked out all of the tension and unresolved feelings you two had over the past year, to the feeling of his lips and hands all over your body.

That was the start. The start of your hookups. The random texts and the blissful feelings ignited.

So, as you're at a party, in some skimpy short skirt your friend made you wear, Tsukishima couldn't stop checking you out.

He wasn't the only one, and that knowledge only made his jaw clench and a feeling enter the pit of his stomach. A feeling that can only be described as one thing—jealousy.

His eyes trailed over your body, noting everything on display. From your tits to the pretty pink panties that peeked out every time you bent over to pick up a drink.

You had always been one to be on the less social side. So, seeing you in an outfit like this was a surprise. One he didn't think he'd find himself loving and hating at the same time.

He could already picture it. Him, bending you over against some random piece of furniture in some random room as he slips your panties down your legs before he thrusts into you in one swift motion when he finally gets to tug down his boxers and pants.

Making sure to keep your skirt on so he can mock and tease you for it. Calling it 'a perfect slut's invitation'. He would pick up your panties and dangle them in front of your face, not moving an inch as he does.

Adding that he'll but your next pair with his name embroidered onto it for good measure. To make sure his perfect slut stays his perfect slut.

He could already feel the possessive need to drag you out of the center of the party and up into a random room upstairs to play out his fantasies.

The need trickled up his body until his feet started to move on their own.

In one swift motion, he gripped your arm—just like he did the first day your hookups first started—and dragged you upstairs without a care of who might've saw.

He slammed the door shut and locked it, picking you up under your armpits before throwing you onto the bed.

He crawled over you, trailing his hand down your waist. He reached your skirt and snapped the waistband of it, causing you to gasp and bite your lip.

He clicked his tongue at the movement and tugged your lip down. "Now what did I say about biting that pretty lip, hm?"

Your face flushed at his taunting before you reluctantly recited the words he'd basically engrained in your mind. "That it's your job..."

He smirked smugly, running his hand up and down your waist approvingly. "That's right. And why do you think I brought you up here?"

"Uh, I don't know," You mumbled, forcing yourself not to bite your lip. No matter how tempting it was.

He scoffed, squeezing your thigh as his hand trailed up, hitching it onto his waist, "Don't play coy with me, slut. We both know this skirt is so short you flash your ass by bending over."

He let out a harsh chuckle, "I should know. I saw those pretty pink panties you love so much the second you reached down for a beer."

Your lips parted in shock, your face flushed and your hands gripping the hem of your skirt tightly, willing them to magically grow longer in size.

"Trying to catch someone's attention?" He taunted as he slipped his hand up your thigh slowly, dangerously close to slipping up under your skirt.

You shook your head immediately, "N-no."

"Then why wear this, huh?" He leaned down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He closed his eyes, inhaling that sweet perfume you always wore.

The same one that now stains his sheets for days on end every time you come over.

"My friends made me..." You responded, gulping. You tried not to let his closeness affect you but it never really works in the end.

"Do you always listen to your friends?" He kissed along your neck, nipping every now and then. "Would you jump off of a cliff if they told you to?"

"No," You scoff out in disbelief to which he leans back and grips your jaw. "Watch your tone, sweetheart. I'm not the one flashing everyone, now am I?"

You pout, annoyed. But then you feel a striking sensation between your legs at the implication that he's jealous. And not just jealous, but possessive too.

"Not denying it, huh?" He chuckled and teased your nipples through your shirt. The movement was easy due to you not wearing a bra.

You gasped at the sensation, your head dizzy with pleasure. Your mind already turning to mush as you whimpered out, "Please don't stop, Tsuki..."

He smirked and stopped his movements. "What was that?"

Your lips formed into another pout, knowing he wouldn't continue until you stroked his ego with some begging. "Please, keep touching me..."

He hummed in acknowledgment, thumb rubbing against your ribcage, "Keep touching you where?"

"My breasts," You admitted, finding yourself still able to blush. Even after the many nights you've spent tangled in each other's sheets.

"Good girl," He purred out before tugging your shirt up, kissing up your stomach, leaving your breathing growing in huffs. He reached your breasts and sucked hickeys along them, marking you as his.

He relished in every moan and whimper you let out. Loving the way you gripped his hair when he swirled his tongue around your nipples.

"Of course you'd love some attention to your breasts, you slut," He chuckled and suckled around the perked bud. When he glanced up and saw you about to retort, he used his free hand to tweak your other nipple.

As he saw your lips part and your eyes squeezed shut, he knew his mission succeeded. A prominent smirk settled on his lips as he had gotten what he wanted. Your compliance.

No matter how many times you'd told yourself you'd never let anyone degrade you, he made it seem so enticing. Much to the point you ended up looking forward to it with every interaction you two had.

Even now as he degraded every little response you had to his teasing touches, it couldn't help but make you throb even more.

"That's a good girl," He cooed as he trailed his hands down your waist, caressing every part of you he could. His hands trail down to your hips, caressing them as he practically makes out with your breasts.

Your leg shifts to rest on his back, leg curving to rest your foot on his back where you rub up and down in appreciation to his attention.

He smirks, moving his hand up and under your skirt, teasing the waistband of your skirt, and pecking your breasts before he kisses down.

He moves your leg up on his shoulder the lower he gets, kissing all the way down to your waistband. "Well if it isn't the one thing that had me throbbing this whole damn party..."

He lets out a husked chuckle when your breath hitches, trailing his finger along the waistband. "How cute."

You whine out, "Stop being so mean..."

"Mean? Mean?" He laughs in disbelief before he pinches the fabric, "Now, these are mean. Making me wanna tilt it up and fuck you in front of everyone. You're playing coy, sweetheart."

"I'm not playing anything," You whined out in protest before he tugged and let go, causing it to snap against your skin.

He grins up at you in a way that makes you think he'd be the perfect Cheshire cat in a play. "Oh, come on. I know you enjoy a little pain. You're my precious little masochist."

You huff, cheeks flushing as your whole body feels hot. You wish you could protest, but you knew it'd be futile. Let's face it, you are his little masochist.

"Ah, so you don't deny it, huh?" He moves his hands down and lifts your skirt up. "I knew my girl wouldn't."

His girl. Something he found himself saying more frequently. He couldn't help it. Especially when you give the best reactions. Like now, for example.

You were tilting your head back, swollen lips parted into a moan as he bit your thigh to emphasize your arousal to pain.

It worked perfectly, he had the perfect view of your panties and watched as a wet patch started to form. He grinned devilishly before he leaned down and poked his nose into your panties.

He relished in your surprised yelp, hips trying to move away but stopped by his nails digging into your thighs, pulling you back.

"Not so fast, pretty girl."

You swallowed hard, hands clenched together at your sides as he grinned, lips brushing against the fabric as he did. Which only serves to make your body tingle with pleasure.

He gave a nice open-mouthed kiss right on top of the wet patch, making your heart race.

"T-Tsukishima?" You trailed off before you yelped. His teeth nipped at your panties, slowly tugging them off, hands trailing up to follow the movements of your panties before he threw them to the side.

"H-hey!" You protested before he pinched your thigh, making you wince and instinctively look down.

"Don't worry, honey. I'll buy you a new pair." He rubbed your thigh before casually following up with, "With my name embroidered onto them."

Your eyes widened in surprise but before you could ask him to explain further, his mouth is on your clit as a distraction. That instantly makes your brows tug together and your eyes roll back in a strung-out moan.

He nibbles gently, making your moan grow in pitch. He pulls back and kisses your swollen clit sweetly, looking up at you with a knowing smirk.

Your face is flushed and your eyes are half-lidded as you look down at him with a half-assed glare. Lips forming into a pout, "No fair..."

He chuckles, "Are you seriously complaining right now, sweetie?"

You shake your head reluctantly and he takes that as a no. His hand rubs your thighs up and down, loving the sight of you laid out with your legs on his shoulders.

He makes a point to kiss down your thighs until he reaches where you want him most. He looks up and you nod in encouragement.

He dives in, licking a nice long stripe up along your slit, ripping another moan out of you. He continues, this time flattening his tongue and trailing his tongue up, making you shudder.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to control your noises but find that entirely impossible once he slips a finger in.

You choke on a gasp and your gummy walls clamp down on his finger in reaction. He hums in satisfaction and wraps his lips around your clit, suckling.

You whimper, legs trying to clamp around him but failing when he pinched your thigh with his free hand, making you stop.

You gulp when he slips another finger in, pumping them in and out before he pulls off your clit and pecks it. “You’re making such sweet noises for me.”

You whimper, the compliment making you blush even more.

“Please, Tsukishima…” You gasped, trying to think about anything but his relentless movements with his fingers. “I-I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” He taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance and confidence. He didn’t stop moving, finger-fucking you steadily while gently sucking on your swollen clit, making you writhe helplessly beneath him. “Can’t take it? Or can’t handle the fact that I’m the one making you feel this way?"

“How cute,” He cooed, borderlining on mocking. “You can’t even speak properly anymore. Just a pretty little mess for me, huh?”

“God, yes—just like that," You whined, not even hearing his previous comment when his fingers curled to hit that spongey spot that made your mind go blank.

“Look at you. So small, so needy. I could ruin you, you know. Make you want it so bad you wouldn’t know how to function without my fingers inside you.”

“Please,” You whimpered again, desperation creeping up to an almost embarrassing point. “I’m so close...”

“Close to what?” he challenged playfully, pulling his fingers out for just a second before plunging them right back in, mixing pleasure with just the right amount of edge.

“Tsuki!” You choked on a moan, trying to keep your dignity but finding it hard when he was teetering you to the edge of bliss. “Stop—stop teasing me!”

A devilish smirk crossed his lips, one you saw him make plenty of times in situations like this, “What’s the fun in making it easy for you?”

“I… I—” You stuttered, mind foggy from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and his relentless teasing. You clutched the sheets, knuckles white as you tried to ground yourself.

“That’s it, let go for me,” He encouraged, suckling harder on your clit. With a gasp, you felt the tension snap, and your entire body tensed up as pleasure surged through you.

“Good girl,” He murmured

“See,” He whispered with a teasing tone, licking his lips. “I told you I could ruin you, and no one else would even come close.”

“You’re insufferable.” You grumble out, not able to refute his evident-backed statement. You sat up on your elbows, looking down at him. The lower half of his face is glistening and it makes you flush.

He smirks at your comment, knowing it's a weak attempt to get back at him for his arrogant remarks. "You're just realizing that now?" He teases, his voice low and husky as he pulls his fingers out of you slowly, making you whimper at the loss.

He smirks at your reaction, loving the flustered expression that overtakes you. He crawls up over you until he's face-to-face with you. His face with a mischievous grin, bordering on a smirk.

"Look at that face... completely spent from just my fingers." The arrogant smirk still plays on his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, slowly sucking them clean.

"I bet you'd say anything right now just to have something else inside you." His voice drops further, becoming almost seductive.

You swallowed. He leans down and nuzzles his glistening nose against yours, face tilted in a way that lets him kiss the corner of your mouth.

"Would you rather my tongue? Or maybe..." He pauses, intentionally teasing you further. "...my cock? You're dripping wet and whimpering my name so nicely, maybe you're not so proud anymore, hmm?"

His dark eyes fixate on you with a mix of satisfaction and further intent. It was a look that you see just before he decides to fuck you.

"I can see it in your eyes, you want me to fuck you senseless. Beg for it." He commands, voice low and demanding.

He leans down, lips brushing against your ear. "Beg me to fill you up and I'll give you exactly what you need."

"God..." You moaned softly, your hips bucking slightly as you try to get friction anywhere. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and lust as you swallow thickly.

"Please..." You whimper, almost inaudible. You try again, louder this time, "Tsukishima..."

A smug grin spreads across his face, satisfied with himself for breaking your determination so easily. He leans down, catching your bottom lip between his teeth.

"See? I knew you could beg properly when you wanted something bad enough." His hand slipped between your thighs again, thumb brushing against your soaked folds.

"You want this?" He asks mockingly, moving his finger up slowly to brush feather-light over your clit.

"You want me to fill you up and make you forget everything else?" He adds, adding pressure. He can feel the way your breath quickens, hips slightly rocking as soft moans spill out of your swollen lips.

You choke on a gasp, nodding. His eyes boring into your foggy ones, eyes welling up.

He chuckles darkly, amused by your desperate attempts to draw him closer. With a swift movement, he removes his fingers, leaving you aching and whimpering.

"Greedy girl," He murmurs against your lips, reaching down to his belt, and unbuckling it. He licks his lips, the movement making you feel the whisper of his tongue grazing your lips.

Once he unlatches the metal, he unbuttons and drags the zipper down his pants. He tugs his boxers off just enough for his erection to slap against his abdomen.

He laughs at the way your mouth grows slack-jawed. He always loved the way your face morphed when you see his cock.

He tilts your head and gives you a quick slow kiss, body arching slightly as his erection squeezes in between your bodies. The feeling of him pressed against you makes you moan into the kiss.

He pulled back, pecking your lips before he spoke. "Last chance to beg, princess. Should I fuck you or leave you like this? I think you deserve it for wearing such a short skirt."

His self-control is barely hanging on as he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily from anticipation. "Because I don't know if I can wait for you to answer, baby..."

His hips nudge forward slightly, letting you feel his thickness and the cool metal of his belt against your thigh. He grins when he hears your breath hitch, your body shuddering at the contrast of the cool metal and your heated body.

A smug grin plays on his lips as he teases you, pressing just the tip of his cock against your entrance without actually entering.

"You're so fucking wet, I could slide in so easily... Should I?" He leans down, catching your lip between his teeth again.

"Please...?" You whimper as you a wallow down your pride, clit pulsing as he teases you. His self-control snaps at the desperate sound you make against his lips, one hand gripping your hip while the other guides himself inside you slowly.

"Oh fuck..." He whispers, voice thick with pleasure as he stretches you. "You were right to beg, baby..."

He begins to move, thrusting into you with a steady rhythm, making your body arch. His hand finds your breast, squeezing and kneading it as he picks up the pace.

"You feel so fucking good," He groans, burying his face in your neck, breathing ragged. "I could fuck you all night..."

He pulls out of you suddenly, his cock slick with your juices, making you whine out in protest. He stands up, towering over you as he grips your ankle and drags you to the edge of the bed.

"On your knees, princess. You know how I like it," He orders, his voice cold and commanding. "I'm not done with you yet."

You quickly get on your knees on the bed, your ass high in the air, waiting. Your cheeks are flushed, your hair disheveled, and you're covered in a thing a layer of sweat.

He takes one look at you and almost looses control again. He spreads your thighs wider with his hands. "Atta' girl."

"God damn..." He mutters, watching your soaking wet pussy spread open for him. He spreads your cheeks further apart, lining his tip against your entrance again, and pushes in hard and deep, making you cry out and grip the sheets tightly.

He finds your hips again, his thumb spreading you wider while you can do nothing but moan and whimper.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well... such a good girl, aren't you?” He increases his pace, each thrust hitting deeper, slapping against your ass. You choke on a moan, clenching with every thrust.

One hand moves to grab your hair, tilting your head back and making you arch. "Who owns this perfect little pussy? Who fucks it every other day and eats it out the other days, hm?"

"Y-you..." You gurgled out, drool pooling in your mouth before it spilled onto the poor unsuspecting host's sheets.

"Fucking right it's me." He snarls possessively, his hips snapping forward and back, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

His other hand moves to play with your clit, pinching and rolling it between his fingers. You squeal, the harsh treatment making you squirm and writhe in pleasure. "F-fuck...Tsuki..."

He chuckles darkly at your desperate cries, feeling the smug satisfaction of owning your pleasure so completely.

"Ngh," He slurred slightly. "Scream my fucking name then," He demands, rubbing your clit faster, harder. Aiming to drive you wild.

"Let everyone at this stupid party fucking hear who wrecks this tight cunt. My cunt."

His cunt. And there's no way you'd ever deny him that. Not when he fucks you so good you forget until the beautiful aching settles in your foggy brain.

You whimper and grab the sheets as each thrust makes your body coil forward. You're breathing heavily, panting like a dog.

He grins wickedly and leans down over you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as his hips slam forward in rapid succession, his thick length massaging that perfect spot inside you.

His actions only serve to make you cry out louder, moans and whimpers impossible to hold back. His fingers are a blur on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. "Come on, princess."

You gasp out desperately, shaking your head as you croak out, "S' too much... always too much..." You whine, body shaking with pleasure as his hips never falter.

"Too much of what?" He growls, breathing ragged. His smirk is present as his warm breath washes over your shoulder. He continues to pound into you mercilessly, his fingers working your swollen bud furiously.

"Too much of my thick cock stretching you out?" He chuckles cruelly, punctuating each question with a hard thrust. You thrust forward with his harsh thrusts, making you whimper and puff out breaths.

You claw at the sheets, the pool of drool underneath your mouth making the experience all the more surreal.

His free hand wraps around your throat from behind, tilting your head back further as he continues his brutal pace. He wipes the drool off the corner of your lips.

"Answer me, princess. Is this cock too much for your needy little cunt?" His fingers move faster on your clit, bringing you dangerously close to orgasm.

You can't form words, too choked up on your sobs and hiccups to properly respond. Moans and whimpers are the only things you're able to make.

With a wicked smirk, he tightens his grip around your throat slightly, swallowing your desperate noises.

"I'll take that as a yes," He chuckles darkly, his relentless pace making the bed creak ominously. The squelching noises of you sucking him in on par.

You mewl, arching as he hits that spot inside that makes everything not register. Nothing but the overwhelming pleasure that makes your body tingle.

He lets out a satisfied grunt, feeling your inner walls start to convulse around his length. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight," He groans his fingers moving in frantic circles on your clit as he chokes you gently.

"You think I can make you cum harder than all those other times I've fucked you nice and snug?" He chuckles, kissing your temple.

You gasp and lean into his touches, body lolling back and slacking as you clench uncontrollably, body on the verge of euphoria. Moans and desperate pleas coming out in croaks.

He smirks in satisfaction as he feels your walls flutter desperately around his throbbing cock. His fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, your orgasm hovering tantalizingly close.

"That's it, clench tighter for me, princess. Milk my cock like you've never had anything better. Which we both know you haven't..." He teases, nibbling on the shell of your ear.

You whimper and clench, clit pulsing beneath his skilled fingers, body aching and sweaty as it takes every punishing thrust of his.

He watches your body writhe and tense, your moans getting louder and more desperate. His teeth sink into your neck possesively, making you yelp.

"You know what would make this even better?" He rasps darkly into your ear, and his finger moves faster, pressing down harder on your little bud.

You pant, gulping before you manage to respond. Croaking out a small, "What?"

"If I wrapped my arms around your waist, and pulled you even closer, making it hurt a little more but feel even better," He growls, his powerful arms wrapping around your midsection.

He pulls you back, his chest to your back so that his mushroom-shaped tip hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

You whine and convulse, your body shuddering at the feeling of his arm squeezing you. The pressure makes you feel his cock pound into you even more. You croak, "F-fuck...!"

"That's right, princess. Take my cock like a good slut. You're squeezing me so perfectly I might actually cum before you," He punctuates each word with another brutal thrust.

He maintains his punishing pace against that sensitive spot deep inside you, panting, "Or maybe I'll just edge you..."

“Tsuki, Tsuki, Tsuki, Tsuki...!" You let out a dragged-out moan in a mantra. Pleading for him to continue or to stop, you don't know. All you know is that he's fucking your gummy walls just right.

Groaning in arousal at your desperate moan of his name, he leans in to nip sharply at your ear.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty begging for me," He rasps, his hips maintaining that brutal pace. The wet sounds of flesh smacking against flesh fill the air.

"Can...can't take it, Kei, baby..." You sniffled, chirping out a whimper. "Gonna—gonna cum."

He smirks darkly, knowing he's making you go crazy with pleasure. His hand on your hip tightens, pulling you back onto his cock as he pistons into you relentlessly.

"That's it, princess. Cum for me. Remind me why I keep your pretty little cunt around..." He encourages into your ear, pinching your clit.

You throw your head back and buck, cumming around him on instinct. You sob and spasm, your body squirming as he fucked you through your orgasm. You whisper his name out in a mantra, vision blurry.

His eyes roll back in ecstasy as he feels your tight little cunt milking his cock for all it's worth.

He grunts and pounds into you a few more times before finally stilling, his cock throbbing inside you as he unloads a massive load of his seed deep into your womb.

Your eyes widen and you claw at his arm, your voice slurring, "N-no... can't cum in me," You hiccup, "Not on... birth control...."

He freees at your words, his mind hazy from the intense high of his orgasm. For a moment, he just stays still, buried deep inside you as he processes your words.

Then, he pulls out, his softening cock slipping out of your used hole with a wet plop! You fall down onto your front, shaking and panting as you try and calm down.

Your body clenches from the after-effects of your intense orgasm, making his and your shared cum spill out from your position with your ass up. He watches your body wracked with aftershocks, his seed mixed with your fluids trickling down your inner thighs. His jaw tightens.

"Damn," He mutters softly to himself, his eyes fixated on your spread thighs and your puffy, well-used little cunt.

You pant, looking back at him from over your shoulder. Your eyes are half-lidded and red from your previous sobbing.

"I'm sorry, princess," He murmurs softly, reaching out to gently stroke your cheek. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I didn't mean to cum inside you. I'll make sure to pull out next time, okay?"

You swallow, not used to his sweet demeanor but finding yourself not complaining in the slightest. You hum against his lips in acknowledgment, "Okay.."

He smiles softly, ruffling your hair before pulling back. He watches your body, your back glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with their mixed fluids.

He swallows hard, his Adams apple bobbing and his eyes flicking to your round bottom. He bites his lip, eyes darkening again. "Baby?"

"Yeah...?" I croak out.

"Can I...?" He hesitated, his fingers trailing along your curves possesively. "Can I check if any of it went in?" He asks softly, his fingers splaying out on your bottom possessively.

"Just to make sure none got in..." You nod, giving him permission to check. "I s'ppose so..."

He nods, his fingers spreading your bottom apart gently. He leans down, his face inches from your used hole. He blows gently, making you shiver, before pressing his mouth to your aching entrance.

He licks gently, cleaning you up and checking for any of his seed that may have gotten inside. You whimper and grasp the sheets, his check-up making you squirm.

He hums softly, his tongue delving inside you to make sure none of his cum got in. He pulls back after a moment, satisfied that he got it all out.

He presses a soft open-mouthed kiss to your hole before standing up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tilting your skirt back down.

You pant and look over your shoulder, breathing ragged. "Are we done...? Can I...Can I get up..?"

"Mmh," He answers softly, watching you closely. He's half hard again from how needy and sensitive you look. "You can get up," He adds, his eyes flicking down to your thighs again.

You nod and roll onto your back, slowly sitting up, your body feeling sore and achy.

"Easy there..." He moves closer, catching your waist as you sit up unsteadily. His eyes darken slightly as he notices fresh tears welling up in those beautiful eyes.

"Are you okay?" His touch is surprisingly gentle now, all business-like dominance forgotten. "Did I... hurt you?"

"No," You let out a choked laugh and sniffle, "Just the overwhelming pleasure, you know?"

He blinks, momentarily stunned by your response. Then slowly, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"Overwhelming pleasure, huh?" He leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Well, princess, that's called being fucked properly."

You scoff, but your lip twitches up into a grin. You stand up and reach for your clothes that he had thrown to the side prior. He watches you dress, his eyes roaming over your curvy figure appreciatively.

He can't help but notice the way you wince slightly as you pull your pink panties up. He stands up slowly, buttoning his shirt back up, "Where are you going?"

"Well, I can't exactly stay at this party all wobbly-legged. I'm a total mess. I'm not trying to have the walk of shame and parade around. I'm going home." You go to the nearby mirror and fix your appearance.

He nods, understanding. He moves to stand beside you in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at you.

He runs a hand through his messy blonde hair, looking a bit worn out from the late night and the intense fuck session. "Alright, I'll walk you home."

You smile crookedly, "Thanks."

His reflection smirks softly back at you, watching you try to tame your wild hair. He noticed how you wince slightly as you put on your heels. His jaw tightens slightly.

"Are you sore?" He asks softly, his voice lower than usual. You turn around once you're satisfied with how you look.

"You know I am." You peck his cheek and grab your purse before heading to the door and opening it. "You coming?"

He follows you out of the room, his eyes on your swaying hips. He catches up to you easily, his long legs eating up the distance. He places a hand on the small of your back as you walk down the hallway, guiding you gently. "I'll make sure you get home safe."

"That's not what I'm worried about. I just hope nobody can smell the sex on us. I do not want to be known as the chick who hooks up at some rando's house." Your nose scrunched up at the mere idea.

He chuckles softly, his hand tightening on your waist possessively as he guides you through the crowded party. He can feel eyes on you, wondering where you disappeared and who you disappeared with.

He can already imagine the whispers and rumors spreading like wildfire tomorrow. Especially considering how you two are known as academic rivals—enemies.

You lean onto him, trying to mask the wobble in your step as you head out of the party. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him to steady you.

He can feel the curious stares and whispers following you two out of the party. He ignores them, focusing on getting you home safely before the rumors start spread on the internet.

You follow his steps. His stride is steady and sure, guiding you down the dark streets leading away from the party. The crisp night air hits your faces, covering you both up slightly.

He steals glances at you every few seconds, noticing how you're trying to walk normally despite everything. "Stop pretending like you're not limping."

You huff, pouting. "'m not pretending... I'd just rather not put any unnecessary strain.."

He arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he glances down at your determined yet pained strides.

In one swift movement, he scoops you up bridal-style, ignoring your startled gasp. "Like hell you're walking any further. I'm carrying you."

"What the hell, Tsukishima?!" You yelped, holding onto him tightly in fear of falling. He just smirks, his arms tightening around you to keep you secure as he continues walking.

He ignores your outburst, knowing damn well you wouldn't be able to walk much further anyway. His long strides eat up the distance, bringing you closer to your home with each step.

You huff and instead let your head fall back, watching the scenery upside-down while he walks to your house. He finds the whole situation amusing, carrying his academic rival and casual hook-up like a bride.

He can't help but chuckle softly to himself as he walks, the upside-down view of your face making him smirk wider.

He reaches your house sooner than expected, his long legs covering the distance quickly. You lift your head up, your head spinning from whiplash before you rest your head on his shoulder.

He sets you down gently in front of your door, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you upright. He fishes your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the door swiftly.

He steps inside, carrying you again once he's inside, kicking the door shut behind him. "Shh...! My parents will hear you," You whisper shout at him.

"Then stop squirming, "He mutters softly, his hands on your ass to keep you still as he carries you up the stairs.

He freezes suddenly, hearing your parents' TV on downstairs. He swallows, trying to be quieter. "Your room?"

You nod and he carries you to your room, being as quiet as possible. He sets you down on your bed gently, looking around to make sure everything is in order.

Satisfied, he turns back to you, kneeling down to remove your heels. "Stay put," He orders softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You nod, head bobbing as your eyes droop. The night finally catching up to you. He watches your eyelids flutter heavily, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he realizes just how drunk you actually are.

Finishing with your shoes, he gently tucks a blanket around you, ensuring you're comfortable standing up quietly. "Sleep it off, idiot."

You place your hand on his before he leaves, murmuring, "Be careful on your way out."

Tsukishima pauses, glancing down at your hand on his with a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Momentarily taken aback by your sudden concern, a softness brushed across his usually stern features.

With a brief nod, he squeezes your hand lightly. "I can handle myself."

You smile softly before you let go of his hand and slowly succumb to sleep. He watches your breathing even out as sleep claims you, a rare gentle expression softening his angular features.

With a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, he turns and exits your room silently, closing the door with barely a sound.

Masterlist. Masterlist.haikyuu

February 9, 2025. PST: 7:40 PM.

[nephtheless]

THPD Gossan (Young)

So, I mentioned in my previous post that my modern AU Gossan has anger management issues. Can you guess what they do to deal with it?

Boxing!!!

Slate even helps them practice :3 which means they've gotten their nose broken, and had to get new specs more than once.

Why does Gossan have anger issues? Because they and Felds used to get bullied for being short as hatchlings, and Gossan is very protective of their sibling :3

Unfortunately, Goss has gotten themself into bad situations more than once (where they underestimated their opponent, or got ambushed by a gang of Nomai punks with a grudge).

When they're really angry, they resemble Feldspar more :D

On that note, all races from the game are present in this AU, which makes for some fun situations :D More on that later!

Here's a little tidbit:

'Slate watched at the angry being before them carefully. Gossan looked about ready to rip their head off.

They really should have chosen their words more carefully.

Yes, Slate knew quite well that Gossan could probably kill them.

And yet, they never once feared for their safety around their friend, not even when Gossan was in their most explosive fits of rage. Because they knew where that anger came from, who it was for, and where it started and ended.

But Gossan and their sibling were also idiots. That meant they bit off far more than they could chew more often than not. This was one of those occasions.

And while Slate knew when to back off, they also knew when it was time to speak up, lest someone dear to them end up in a hospital bed.

This was one of those times.

They'd rather put up with an irate delinquent now than do damage control later.

"You're not going anywhere," Slate said, putting a hand on Gossan's shoulder.

Gossan shoved that hand away quickly.

"The hell if you think you can stop me!" they shouted.

Slate lifted their hand again, reaching for the smaller hearthian-

Gossan threw their fist-

Slate caught it deftly.

Gossan growled. Their teeth were beared, their eyes narrowed and feral. Slate was sure it would have had a cowing effect on anyone else.

"I'll kick your ass, Slate! Get out of my way!"

Gossan punched with their other fist.

Slate caught that one too. Then they tightened their fingers over Gossan's hard enough to be painful. They watched as their friend hunched slightly and grimaced.

"The fu-!?"

"Don't forget who trains with you every day, Goss," Slate said sternly as they leaned down, simultaneously pulling both of Gossan's arms toward themself and outwards, "I know every move you'll make before you make it," they finished lowly-

-and quickly slid a leg behind Gossan's knees, and swiped the smaller adult's legs out from underneath them. They followed as Gossan's back hit the floor, stooping down so they could pin the smaller's arms to their own chest, then they sat on Gossan's stomach and used their weight to hold them down.

Gossan spat a healthy amount of cusses before shooting the taller a death glare, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Stopping you from being a dumbass."

Gossan struggled, snarling and tugging their arms hard. It wasn't easy to keep them pinned.

"Get the **** off! I have to-"

"No you don't, you idiot! They'll kill you!"

Gossan struggled more, then stopped and gave Slate a cold stare. Their shoulders rose and fell rapidly, and their nostrils flare as they seethed.

"They hurt Feldspar," they hissed, "they're going to pay." '

---

[isacksteban]

Eventually — Lawhan Mixed Media AU

Twitch Streamer AU — 3.2k words — @ellearts — masterlist

Jack tried to shake it off.

Tried to tell himself he was being ridiculous.

Liam was his friend. That’s all he had ever been. That’s all he had ever promised to be.

Jack rubbed a hand over his face, staring blankly at the wall. He knew he should just drop it — close Instagram, get up, do literally anything else — but instead, he found himself reaching for his phone again. He opened their chat without thinking, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Jack:

hey, u up?

It was stupid. He knew that. But Liam usually answered fast, and right now, Jack just… needed to hear from him. Needed something to pull him out of his own head.

Three dots appeared almost instantly. Jack’s pulse stuttered.

Liam:

course, what’s up?

Jack hesitated, gripping his phone tighter. He had no idea what to say.

Hey, I just spent the last twenty minutes cyberstalking your girlfriend because I got jealous for no reason?

Hey, I thought maybe you liked me, but clearly, I’m an idiot?

Instead, he forced his fingers to type:

Jack:

nah, just couldn’t sleep.

figured u were awake too.

Liam’s reply came just as fast.

Liam:

u know me too well, mate.

what’s on ur mind?

Jack swallowed. The words were right there — questions he had no right to ask. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

Jack:

nothing.

just bored. :)

A beat. Then—

Liam:

well ur in luck bc i was just abt to kick some guy’s ass in cod.

wanna watch?

Jack huffed out something like a laugh, even though his chest still felt tight.

Jack:

sure.

Liam sent him the stream link. Jack clicked it immediately, even though he knew it wouldn’t fix anything. Even though it wouldn’t make the ache go away.

But for now, for now, it was enough to pretend nothing had changed.

The stream had been live for about fifteen minutes, and Jack’s chat was already in full chaos mode. The camera was perfectly angled to avoid showing his face but still captured Esteban and Lance sitting side-by-side, bickering over the “right” way to hatch a slime in Stardew Valley.

“No, no, no!” Esteban huffed, practically lunging for the mouse. “Lance, you’re wasting eggs! That’s not how you do it.”

“It’s a slime, Esteban,” Lance shot back, rolling his eyes. “You put an incubator down, put an egg in it it, and it’s fine. We’re not on a survival show!”

"Esteban treating this like it’s the Olympics.”

“Lance and getting mad at Este, name a more iconic duo.”

“OB, you’re too calm for this.”

Jack leaned into his mic — still hidden off to the side of the camera — chuckling softly. “You guys wanted to see what it’s like when these two play games together. This is it. This is the whole experience.”

“Oh, come on, O.B,” Lance teased, finally shoving the mouse back at Esteban. “You’re supposed to be our leader in these games, you've just gotten lazy.”

Jack shook his head, glancing at the chat. “Leader? Babysitter, maybe.”

Esteban smirked, settling back in his chair. “Outback's just mad because Liam’s probably better at cozy games than we are.”

Jack froze, his face heating immediately — it'd been a month since he'd found out about the girl Liam was with. At least, he thought Liam was with. The Kiwi was far too confusing when it came to his friendships, it appeared like he just kissed all of his friends on the cheek? “What does Liam have to do with this?”

The chat jumped on it immediately.

“LIAM? KIWI?? WHAT DID HE DO???”

“Are they talking about Kiwikiller?”

“Oooooh, your crush is showing.”

Jack cleared his throat, trying to ignore the growing warmth in his cheeks. “I’m pretty sure Liam’s busy playing Call of Duty or something. He doesn’t have time for farming.”

“Oh, please,” Esteban said, grinning. “You talk to him all the time. Didn’t he say he’d try a farming game if you played Red Dead with him?”

Jack groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s not— he was just joking.”

“Sure he was,” Lance chimed in, smirking as he leaned closer to the camera. “Chat, did you know that Outback here stays up late texting Liam about game strategies and random life stuff? It’s adorable.”

“Lance,” Jack hissed, his voice low and panicked, “don’t—”

The chat absolutely lost it:

“EXCUSE ME???”

“Outback and Kiwi texting confirmed???”

“Jack, blink twice if you’re in love.”

Jack groaned, burying his face in his hands even though the camera wasn’t on him. “You guys are the worst,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

“You’re blushing, aren’t you?” Esteban teased, poking Jack’s arm.

“I am not!” Jack protested, though the crack in his voice gave him away.

Lance leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. “Chat, for the record, Liam’s probably watching this stream right now. Should we tell him Jack has a huge crush?”

“No, no, no, no!” Jack panicked, his hands flying up. “He’s not watching, and we’re not telling him anything!”

The chat, of course, only escalated the teasing:

“LIAM, WHERE YOU AT???”

“Jack’s blushing, 110%”

“WE NEED A KIWI-OUTBACK STREAM ASAP.”

Jack sighed, trying to focus back on the game while Esteban and Lance continued laughing. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, though. He and Liam had been getting closer, chatting late into the night about games, life, and everything in between. Jack knew he was falling hard, but he had no idea if Liam even felt the same — or if Liam was even into guys.

The thought made his stomach twist, but for now, he shoved it aside. He’d survive this stream first — and maybe, probably not, deal with his feelings later.

kkofficial✅️

liked by pg96, outbacksprout, and 54,012 others

kkofficial weewee or whatever pierre says

view all 1,692 comments

pg96 wow.. very mature mec

kkofficial thank you mick i try

kkofficial autocorrect...

outbacksprout je pense que oui!! este taught me french

kkofficial ok showoff 😕

user i luv the kkob crumbs we get every time one of them post

user liam if u breathe u have to do a collab stream with ob

kkofficial 😶‍🌫️

outbacksprout

liked by isackhadjar, lucamarini, and 32,190 others

outbacksprout throuple date!! (don't tell their husbands)

view all 1,018 comments

lucamarini wow...

isackhadjar wow...

outbacksprout THE ONE POST I TOLD U TWO NOT TO LOOK AT :(

maplemarauder ob baby when do they ever listen to you?

outbacksprout :((

kkofficial hmm if only i had someone to show me around australia

outbacksprout tell me if u find someone

user OB PLS SHOW HIM AROUND IM BEGGING YOU

outbacksprout well.. since you asked so nicely...

Jack checked his phone for the hundredth time, his foot tapping anxiously against the tile floor of the airport arrivals area. His hoodie was pulled up, and he had his cap low over his face — not that he was famous enough to be recognized, but still. His nerves were wrecked.

He wasn’t even sure why he was this nervous. It wasn’t like he and Liam hadn’t spent months talking, calling, and playing games together nearly every day. But this was different.

This was real.

A new wave of passengers flooded through the arrival gates, and then — there he was.

Liam was easy to spot, even in a sea of people. Tousled blonde hair, effortlessly cool despite the exhaustion of a long flight, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. And then there was that grin — wide, easy, like this was just another day instead of a monumental moment in Jack’s life.

Jack swallowed hard and lifted a hand in an awkward little wave.

Liam spotted him instantly, his grin widening. Without hesitation, he strode over and pulled Jack into a quick, one-armed hug.

Jack tensed for half a second before forcing himself to relax, patting Liam’s back awkwardly. “Hey.”

Liam pulled back, looking him up and down like he was actually processing that Jack was real. “Holy shit,” he said, laughing. “You exist.”

Jack grinned so wide it hurt. “Yeah, well, so do you.”

Liam clapped a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly. “You look exactly like I imagined.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “What, anxious and sleep-deprived?”

Liam grinned. “Exactly.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he grabbed Liam’s bag and started toward the exit. “Come on, mate. Let’s get you settled before I regret this whole thing.”

Liam just laughed, jogging to catch up. “Too late, you’re stuck with me for seven whole weeks now.”

Jack sat at his desk later that night, staring at his Twitch dashboard. His phone buzzed with notifications — his usual audience, already hyped for his next stream.

Liam was sprawled across Jack’s couch, flipping through his phone, completely unbothered. “You announcing it, or are you just gonna let people think you disappeared?”

Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. “Yeah, of course I'm announcing it, just— give me a second.”

Liam smirked. “Nervous?”

Jack scoffed. “No.” He was. But whatever.

After one last deep breath, he opened Twitter and typed:

“Going live tomorrow with a special guest!!!! You guys are NOT ready for this one.. trust me.”

The post was up for maybe five seconds before the replies started rolling in.

“??? SPECIAL GUEST???”

“OH MY GOD WHO”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’RE NOT READY”

“DON’T BE SHY DROP A HINT”

Liam snickered from the couch. “Oh, mate. They have no idea what’s coming.”

Jack sighed dramatically, dragging a hand over his face. “This is gonna be a nightmare.”

Liam grinned. “Yeah, but it’s gonna be fun.”

And, despite himself, Jack couldn’t help but smile — the nerves didn't matter with Liam smiling so fondly at him from just a few feet away.

Jack wasn’t sure he had ever been this nervous in his life.

He sat on the couch, his knee bouncing anxiously as the countdown ticked down on his stream overlay. Liam was next to him — actually next to him, pressed right up against his side, their thighs flush together. Jack could feel the warmth of him, solid and real, and it was making it impossible to think straight.

Liam had flown all the way to Australia for this. For him.

A hand landed on Jack’s knee, firm and steady. “Breathe, mate,” Liam murmured, voice low enough that the mic wouldn’t pick it up.

Jack inhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his already-messy hair — it was far from a buzzcut now. “I am breathing,” he muttered, though his voice came out unsteady.

Liam grinned, giving his knee a quick squeeze before pulling back. “You’ll be fine. They already love you. This is just gonna make them love you more.”

Jack swallowed, nodding. He wasn’t so sure about that — but it was too late to back out now.

The timer hit zero.

The stream went live.

The chat exploded instantly.

“WAIT IS THIS REAL”

“ARE THEY ACTUALLY TOGETHER IRL”

“OH MY GOD LIAM AND OUTBACK IN THE SAME ROOM”

“OB FACE REVEAL INCOMING??”

Jack let out a shaky breath, fingers tightening on the edge of his hoodie. Liam must have noticed, because suddenly, he was tugging Jack toward him, slinging an arm around his shoulders like it was nothing.

Jack nearly choked.

Liam leaned closer, grinning at the camera. “Alright, chat. This is the moment. You ready?”

Jack shot him a mildly panicked look, and Liam just squeezed his shoulder, reassuring. Jack exhaled, bracing himself — then reached forward and finally moved the camera so he was in frame as well.

For the first time ever, his audience saw him.

The reaction was instant chaos.

“OB IS REAL AND HE’S HOT???”

“BRO WHY DID YOU HIDE FOR SO LONG”

“OUTBACK YOU ARE GORGEOUS PLEASE”

“HE LOOKS SO NERVOUS AWWE”

Jack let out a breathless laugh, running a hand over his face, he had no idea what to say.

Liam, still draped over him, was grinning like an idiot. “See? Told you they’d love you.”

Jack shot him a glare. “Y'know since you're here we could just start boxing on stream, right?”

Liam shrugged, lazily playing with the drawstring of Jack’s hoodie. “I couldn't hurt your pretty face, not after chat just saw it!”

Jack groaned, shoving at Liam’s shoulder, but the bastard barely moved. Instead, Liam just leaned into it, resting his head against Jack’s like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Which, of course, sent the chat into a full meltdown.

“THE WAY HE’S LEANING ON OUTBACK HELLO???”

“ARE THEY?? IS THIS?? WHAT IS THIS."

“THEM BEING TOUCHY IRL TOO I’M GONNA DIE”

“OB'S IS BLUSHINGGGGG”

Jack covered his face with his hands, groaning. “Chat, please. I need you to breathe.”

“Bit rich coming from you,” Liam teased, nudging Jack’s jaw with his shoulder. “You’re all red, mate.”

“Because you won’t stop touching me!” Jack hissed under his breath.

Liam only laughed, dropping his arm from Jack’s shoulders — only to hook two fingers around Jack’s hoodie collar, tugging him slightly closer. “Better?”

Jack let out the most exasperated noise of his life. “Oh my god, you’re the worst.”

The chat loved it.

“THEY’RE FLIRTING. LIVE.”

“I CAN’T TELL IF THEY’RE TOGETHER OR IF STRAIGHT GUYS ARE JUST LIKE THIS HELP”

“DO WE SHIP THIS? I THINK WE SHIP THIS.”

“KKOB CONFIRMED. WE WON.”

Jack groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I hate you all.”

Liam chuckled, finally — finally — giving Jack a little space. “Anyway,” he said, grinning at the camera, “I think Outback here had something else to say.”

Jack sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Uh— while we’re here, I guess I should say— hi. I’m Jack.”

That was all it took. The chat exploded again.

“HIS NAME IS JACK. EVERYONE SHUT UP.”

“LIAM AND JACK. JACK AND LIAM. I’M LOSING IT.”

“WE FINALLY HAVE A NAME. THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY.”

“THEY’RE SO OBVIOUSLY IN LOVE SOMEONE HELP”

Liam clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “Congrats, mate. You’re officially Jack now.”

Jack groaned again, but this time, there was a smile pulling at his lips.

Chat was happy. Liam was happy. And even though this was terrifying, even though his heart was pounding so hard he was sure Liam could hear it, Jack felt something in his chest loosen.

“Alright, chat,” Liam said, leaning against Jack’s kitchen counter with an easy grin. “Since, in my humble opinion, Jack’s face reveal wasn’t chaotic enough, we’ve decided to attempt something even worse— baking.”

Jack groaned, running a hand down his face. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

“You love me,” Liam shot back automatically.

Jack froze.

Liam, realizing what he’d just said, immediately tried to play it off, smirking. “As a friend, obviously.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at him, but before he could respond, chat was already losing it — though there hadn't been a moment of peace this whole stream.

“DID HE JUST CASUALLY DROP THAT???”

"AS A FRIEND???? SURE LIAM.”

“JACK LOOKS LIKE HE WANTS TO DIE LMAO.”

Jack shook his head, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. “We’re making cookies,” he said, aggressively changing the subject. “That’s it. That’s all we’re doing.”

Liam snorted. “And by ‘we,’ he means me because he’s too scared to actually bake.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I’m not scared. I just— know my limits.”

Liam clapped his hands together. “Well, lucky for you, I do bake. Occasionally.”

Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh yeah? When’s the last time?”

Liam paused. “…A few years ago.”

Jack let out a long, suffering sigh. “We’re gonna die.”

Things went wrong almost immediately.

Jack measured out the flour while Liam attempted to crack eggs into the bowl.

“See, this is easy,” Liam said confidently.

A loud crunch followed.

Jack turned just in time to see Liam staring down at the bowl in horror, half an eggshell floating in the mixture.

Jack gasped. “Oh my god—”

“Fix it!” Liam whisper-yelled, shaking Jack’s arm.

Jack shoved him off, trying to fish the eggshell out while chat tore into him.

“LIAM YOU HAD ONE JOB.”

“SAVE THE BATTER.”

“THEY’RE SO USELESS HELP.”

Jack finally managed to get most of the shell out, exhaling in relief. “Okay. Crisis averted.”

Liam dusted his hands off. “I don’t know why you were freaking out. That’s just extra crunch.”

Jack shoved him. “Shut up.”

Somehow, things got worse.

Liam was in charge of adding sugar. Jack, foolishly trusting him, focused on mixing.

“I’m just saying,” Liam said, dumping something into the bowl, “we could’ve made something cooler. Like a cake shaped like my face.”

Jack scoffed. “You think I have the artistic skill to make a cake look like you?”

Liam grinned. “You could try. You’re always looking at me, anyway.”

Jack fumbled the whisk, splattering batter everywhere.

“LIAM STOP FLIRTING FOR TWO SECONDS.”

“JACK IS SHORT-CIRCUITING.”

“WHERE'S LANCE?? HE NEEDS TO HELP THEM.”

Jack groaned, turning back to the mixture. “Okay, let’s just get these in the oven before I regret everything.”

But then he tasted the batter.

And immediately gagged.

“What the— Liam, what did you put in this?”

Liam blinked. “Uh. Sugar?”

Jack stared at him. “Liam.”

Liam’s face suddenly went pale. “…I may have used the wrong container.”

Jack turned to the counter. Two identical jars sat there. One labeled Sugar. One labeled Salt.

Jack inhaled deeply through his nose. “Liam.”

“I swear they looked the same—”

Jack grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at him.

Liam yelled, stumbling back as white powder covered his hoodie. “MATE!”

“BOYS... STOP... FOR ME 🥺”

“JACK JUST ATTACKED HIM LMAO.”

“REST IN PEACE COOKIES 😭”

After actually using sugar, they managed to get the cookies in the oven. For a few glorious minutes, it seemed like things were going okay.

Then the smoke alarm went off.

Jack and Liam both froze.

“…That’s not good,” Liam said.

Jack raced to the oven, yanking it open to see the cookies had spread way too much, batter dripping onto the hot metal.

Liam coughed. “Sooo… you think they’re done?”

Jack turned, grabbed the oven mitts, and shoved them into Liam’s hands. “Fix it.”

Liam wheezed with laughter as he tried to pull out the baking sheet while Jack flailed, trying to fan the smoke away.

“THEY ALMOST SET THE KITCHEN ON FIRE.”

“LIAM CANNOT BE TRUSTED.”

“NEITHER OF THEM CAN BE TRUSTED.”

Eventually, they managed to save some of the cookies. Kind of. They looked questionable, but they weren’t burnt, so Jack counted it as a win.

Liam picked one up, studying it. “Y’know, they don’t look that bad.”

Jack shot him a glare. “Try it.”

Liam hesitated. “…You first.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “No. You.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before, at the same time, they both shoved cookies into each other’s mouths.

Liam choked on laughter, nearly falling over. “Oh my god—”

Jack was coughing. “Okay. Okay. It’s not— It's not that bad.”

Liam grinned. “So we’re baking champions, is what you’re saying.”

Jack sighed dramatically. “Sure, Li. Let’s go with that.”

“THEY’RE SO STUPIDLY CUTE HELP.”

“BAKING CHAMPIONS MY ASS.”

“NEW SHIP NAME WHEN???”

Jack shook his head, pulling his hoodie up over his face. “Never again.”

Liam slung an arm around his shoulders, laughing. “Oh, mate. We’re definitely doing this again.”

Jack groaned, but he couldn’t help but smile. Even if they had almost set the kitchen on fire, even if the cookies were barely edible, it was probably the most fun he’d ever had on a stream — and his mind hadn't wandered to Hannah once.

And, judging by the way Liam was still grinning at him like that, he had a feeling it wasn’t going to be the last time.

[ghstdsoldier]

no @ama-tcra-su because what i DONT think you are doing is actually the best NOR healthiest way to spread awareness about autumn.

Do I think folks need to be aware of her actions? Yes. Absolutely. I do. Do I think you are handling this properly. ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT.

I knew the original victim and writer of her original callout. and i knew there was an updated/modified version of it with ADDITIONAL information. Which isn't being shared. There was MORE information. I at least knew her well enough to know that... THIS IS NOT WHAT SHE WOULD HAVE WANTED.

you condoning harassment and saying 'well its what she deserves' because she harassed others is not the proper OR HEALTHY way. It doesn't make you any better.

go seek PROFESSIONAL help. touch grass. Take a break. It's the holidays and you have not just picked at old wounds but you have completely tore them apart.

you are creating your own personal vendetta and hate campaign on somebody you WERENT REALLY EVEN CLOSE WITH ( which you even fully admit to -screenshots below ).

You are NOT educating people. you are straight up harassing people.

you are not any better.

Stop it Drae, you're not doing anybody any favors.

See the line: "We may not have been close.."

[crushmeeren]

omg but imagine secretly giving the mha boys aphrodisiac chocolate and seeing how they react..

No but you’re RIGHT…. ( ੭ ˙ᗜ˙ )੭

𝛏 Master List Link 𝛏

Katsuki would stare at you with narrowed eyes when you hold your hand out and offer the piece of chocolate to him, your gaze wide and innocent until he pops the candy in his mouth.

Katsuki would be in a meeting not too long after, jaw clenched and teeth creaking when his uniform pants get too fucking snug for no reason. His cheeks will flush bubblegum pink, biting the head off of some hero he can’t remember the name of when asked what’s wrong.

Why the fuck can he only picture you face down and ass up in the air?

Why does he have to sink his nails into his thighs to hang onto his last thread of self control and restrain himself from palming his stiff cock when he thinks of your pussy split open for him?

Why the hell is sweat running down his temples and along his jaw like a goddamn river??

He doesn’t know.

What he is certain of, is his plan to tackle you to the bed as soon as he gets home. To cum the second he slides his achy cock inside your tight pussy, and then to fuck you until neither of you can stand to climax one more time.

Eijirou would happily accept the chocolate, humming in delight once he begins chewing.

Eijirou would then be relaxing with you on the couch, using every ounce of willpower to concentrate on the movie you’re watching together. His cheeks would turn as scarlet as his hair and he’d try to hide his face with the loose strands when you glance at him.

He’d squeak out that’s he’s fine when you ask if he’s feeling feverish. He’ll clumsily cover his cock with large hands, knees knocking into one another when he tries to close his legs.

Eijirou would whimper in your ear “fuck, I’m sorry baby, I need your pussy. I can’t stop myself,” as he gives in to the heat churning in his belly and bends you over the armrest of your couch to fuck you like a dog.

You’ll babble and gasp it’s okay, crying out his name when he makes you orgasm for what feels like the hundredth time — only for his dick to remain hot and full after he’s already cum inside you so much that you’re sure you’re going to get pregnant.

Shouto would take a bit more convincing. He doesn’t ordinarily eat chocolate, but he’s willing to try it if you’re the one presenting it to him.

Shouto would be leisurely walking alongside you in the grocery store, occasionally making noises of agreement as you tell him about your day.

Shouto would suddenly freeze mid stride, becoming rigid in the middle of the aisle. He’ll blink owlish eyes at you several times when you turn back to question what he’s doing.

You’ll snap your fingers to get his attention when he starts to stare at the swell of your tits for way too long instead of listening to you, cheeks filling out with a blush when he meets your gaze.

The next thing you know, your half full grocery cart is abandoned in the aisle and you’re yanked by the wrist back to your car in the parking lot.

Shouto would mutter breathlessly “sorry baby, I can’t seem to control myself,” when he gets your pants off, leaving the material to dangle from one ankle before tugging you down to straddle his lap in the backseat.

He’ll unbutton his pants and shove them down far enough to free himself, not bothering with your panties and sliding them to the side as he sits you down on his cock and let’s out a low moan.

Shouto will match your every move, thrusting upwards harshly each time you sit down. He won’t give a single fuck if someone walks past the car, he just knows he needs your pussy to keep swallowing his cock until the insatiable burn in his lower belly subsides.

It takes…awhile.

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ darry rings - are limited to one per lifetime, emphasizing that love should be exclusive and irreplaceable. true love verification ensures each customer can only buy one ring.

includes: itoshi sae! x reader. 0.9k wc. fluff hehe

you are unable to believe the outrageous actions of your boyfriend. this time, his doings were diabolical to the point of no return. “get out!”

you push itoshi sae out the door in a fit of frustration. his sigh is so loud, it feels like it’s echoing in your head, only making your irritation worse.

“this is my bedroom,” he deadpans, as if stating the obvious will reverse his sudden eviction. it doesn’t work. you’re already diving into the duvets with a determined scowl.

“what are you even doing?” he asks, his tone tipping into annoyance. he narrows his eyes when you march a little closer and throw his pillow into his arms.

“you’re sleeping on the couch,” you declare, voice firm, matching his now sour expression. “and actually, that pillow is way too nice. hand it back.”

he blinks, baffled, before the "too nice" pillow is snatched away and replaced with a sad, flat one that looks like it’s seen better days.

sae stares at the new pillow and then at you. this is so absurd, so far removed from the usual luxurious facade of his life, that the ever-composed itoshi sae actually laughs.

“you’re forgetting something,” he says suddenly, catching your wrist and pulling you closer.

“sae! let go!” you yelp, squirming in his grasp.

“are you seriously this upset over that cheap ring?” his tone is somewhere between exasperation and amusement, as if he should've expected such a reaction.

“it doesn’t matter if it was cheap; it was mine!” you hit his chest with a fist, glaring up at him. “and you hid it!”

“because i got you a better one,” he says, his eyebrows raising slightly, as if that explains everything.

“well, you could’ve just said that!” you huff, shoving his arm. “i was freaking out, thinking i lost it!”

"why do you even like that ring so much?" sae asks, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s debating whether this argument is even worth his energy.

"because you gave it to me in high school!" you snap back, arms crossing dramatically. "i've spent more time with that ring than with you!"

he freezes, the weight of your words sinking in. the usual sharpness in his expression softens, and for a moment, he just looks at you—really looks at you. his gaze lingers on you, quiet and heavy with a mixture of guilt and something unspoken.

it's true. he knows it. he knows just how many times he’s failed to be present for you, how many moments he’s missed, how many nights you’ve spent waiting for him to come back—both physically and emotionally. each time, each goodbye felt like he was leaving behind another piece of you. your glassy eyes were all he would remember during those long flights.

but that's exactly why he's been wanting to do this for a while. because, although he might not make it obvious, itoshi sae is more attentive than you think.

he reaches into his pocket. the movement catches your attention, and when he pulls out a small velvet box, your breath hitches.

“is that...” you begin to question, even though the answer is obvious.

he opens the box, revealing a sleek, elegant darry ring. it gleams under the soft light of the bedroom—intricate, expensive, but graceful instead of loud, the kind of thing only sae could choose.

“i didn’t hide your ring to be an ass,” he says, a rare gentleness lacing his tone. his firm hand captures yours and slides the perfectly fitted ring on your designated finger.

"i wanted you to have something better," he brings your jeweled hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss. "something worthy of you."

"i wanted to sign my name to you."

you blink, your chest tightening, and before you know it, you're rushing forward to throw your arms around him in an impulsive, tight hug.

"you're an idiot, sae!" you voice, sound coming out teary-eyed.

a moment passes without either of you saying anything. he just holds you tighter, as if making up for every moment he couldn’t be there. then, he chuckles softly, a low, soft sound that fills the space between you.

you pull back just enough to frown up at him, your hands resting on his chest. "you're laughing?!"

sae, with that trademark smirk, tilts his head slightly. "do you like it?" his voice teasing but with that edge of sincerity you know so well.

you scoff, still holding on to his shirt, a little stunned. "are you seriously asking me that right now?" you mumble, though your heart is already swelling.

"i love it," you finally smile, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "i love it, sae."

he leans forward, the tug of his smile remaining. "yeah?" he inches closer, grabbing you, leaving no room for escape. "how much?"

"so much.." you manage to whisper against his lips before he fully dives in for a kiss.

his lips move gently against yours, tasting the words you just spoke, savoring your happiness. it’s soft and tender, and deliberately slow, as he prefers.

when he finally pulls back, you're left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. you glance up at him, suddenly shy, feeling a soft blush creeping on you.

"you're still sleeping on the couch," you point and smile, face full of mischief.

sae shrugs, his expression slipping into one of playful indifference. “fine. but you’re joining me.”

before you can even protest, he scoops you up effortlessly, your squeals of protest only providing him amusement as he holds you securely in his arms.

"okay, okay! you can sleep on the bed!"

a/n: me ignoring my 1k wc essay to write a 1k wc sae fic 👍🏼

[wriokitty]

“What’s got you so grumpy?”

Sukuna dodges your finger. It fails to meet its destination of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, earning a frown from you before you huff and try again.

He looks up from his phone with an irritated glance when your fingertip digs into his face.

“What are you talking about?” He grunts.

He knows exactly what you’re talking about. Normal Sukuna is irritable enough—grumpy Sukuna is about as bad tempered as a hornet who’s had its nest kicked. (Which is to say: he’s pretty fucking unfriendly at the moment.)

“You’re sulking,” you point out—and that statement earns a sharp glare from him as you seat yourself on his lap. (Still, he makes room easily for you, leaning back on the couch and putting his phone down to the side so his hands can rest on your hips. Grumpy Sukuna is never grumpy enough to push your body away—if anything, it’s the one way to get him less agitated).

“I’m not fucking sulking,” he says. It’s almost petulant, but you have enough grace to spare his dignity and not point it out. “I don’t sulk.”

“Are you sure?” You raise a disbelieving brow—he clicks his teeth at the way you choose to question him, but it softens considerably when your lips peck his jaw delicately. “You look pretty sulky to me.”

“Get your eyes checked.”

“Can’t. Then I might see you for all your ugliness. We wouldn’t want to throw years down the drain once I come to my senses do we?”

It’s his turn to raise a brow, sarcastically snorting as you give him a cheeky wink. “If you wanna try ‘n be a smart ass, at least be realistic about it. Saw you checking me out just this morning through the mirror.”

“Maybe you need your eyes checked,” you huff, “I was not checking you out.”

“Pretty sure you were,” he smirks, lips pulling into a haughty grin. Getting under your skin with his smugness is about the only way to cheer him up, it seems, because he looks rather pleased when he adds, “it’s okay. Don’t blame ya for bein’ possessed by my impressive physique.”

“Too bad your personality isn’t as dazzling,” you quip back easily.

It’s meant to be lighthearted, of course—but it seems to be the wrong thing to say. Quite wrong, in fact, because as soon as the words escape you, he tenses before locking his jaw.

There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Something you don’t think you’ve ever seen in Sukuna’s face—doubt. It’s a little odd, in all realness. Sukuna is not a doubtful person. He’s confident, and he’s confident enough that it’s almost to a fault. He’s cocky and smug and sometimes a little too self-assured for it to be considered good for his health.

It’s a bit unsettling to see his face almost fall at something you say, especially when you just say it for the sake of light banter.

“Yeah?” He chuckles dryly. It sounds dangerously self-deprecating—enough that it makes you frown. “Good thing I have my abs to keep you glued to my side then, huh?”

“Well, it’s not just your abs,” you hum, one hand smoothing over his shirt to feel the ridges of his muscles through the shirt. “Your boobs are pretty great, too.”

To prove your point, you give his left pectoral a gentle squeeze. He scowls before shoving your hand away as blush creeps along the back of his neck.

“You fucking freak,” he mutters.

Something is bothering him. You know you can’t directly ask it out of him, otherwise he’ll deny it left and right, but something is bothering him. Sukuna is not good with words or emotions. In fact, he’s pretty awful at anything that has to do with anyone’s feelings. (He’s better about yours more than other’s, but he’s pretty far from good.)

You don’t mind. There’s something oddly charming about witnessing the way he navigates softening up for you—it’s like watching a baby take their first steps. Wobbly. Slow. Unsure. Pretty badly executed, but endearingly rewarding all at the same.

Except, this time, it’s not your emotions he’s navigating. For some reason, yours are easy than his own. Navigating yours means he doesn’t have to try. He knows you better than he knows himself. Knows when your feelings are hurt by the twitch of your brows alone. Knows you’re sad by the dimness in your eyes. Knows you’re pretending joy when your laugh is quieter than usual. Knows you’re faking it when your smile is a much more tight lipped and a less bright version.

But his own feelings are complicated. A lot more than he cares to try and understand them for. In true Sukuna fashion, he always aims to ignore his problems until they seemingly disappear.

But you’re too difficult to let that slide. He brushes things under the rug, and you pull the rug from under his feet and make him fall face first into his problems.

“Hey,” you nudge him, cupping his face with your hand gently, “what’s gotten into you? It’s weird when you’re not pissing me off a couple of times every hour.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” He challenges, like your words seem to tick him off more, “what are you sittin’ here for if I’m always pissing you off?”

Oh, you think. So that’s what it is.

You smile, humming before you gently tilt his face up. Something vulnerable is attached to that frown of his. Like he’s waiting for your answer because he needs something to hold onto. Some metaphorical lifeline where your feelings are attached to his own, just to keep you chained together. Where you’re always somewhere that he also is. Where he doesn’t have to care about his emotions because what you feel is what he feels, too, and as long as you’re okay, so is he.

But you care. You seem to care a pretty great deal because you lean in and brush your nose against his as you kiss his lips softly.

“Who cares if you piss me off?” You snort, “I piss you off better. I’m pretty good at it.”

“You are,” he agrees instantly.

You give him a fleeting huff against his mouth as you mumble, “you don’t have to agree so fast.”

It pulls a small laugh from him, making his arms snake around your waist and tug your body closer. Chest to chest, heartbeat thumping in two, synchronized rhythms.

“What happens when I’m all old and expiring and my abs are gone?” He raises a brow. You hum, stroking a thumb along his cheek as you smile and admire him.

“We’ll still be pissing each other off, I bet.”

“That’s supposed to be good?” He repeats, this time much more unsure. Anyone else could hardly catch the air of hesitance in his words, but you catch it instantly.

“Why not?” You shrug, “it always worked for us, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “that’s until it doesn’t.” He spits the words out, not meeting your eyes. It’s like they taste acrid is mouth and he can’t bring himself swallow them down.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you lean in and just press a line of kisses from his chin to the corner of his lips, purposely dodging his mouth and littering small, delicate pecks along his cheek. And then his forehead. And then the bridge of his nose.

Never his lips, though. And he gets increasingly frustrated by it.

“What are you waiting for?” He grumbles, eyeing you with a look that screams: quit fucking around.

You fight back an amused smile. “Does it piss you off?”

“Course it does. Kiss me properly or back off my face—”

“Cause you love me right?” You ask cheekily. He pauses, thinking on it for a moment before slumping wearily.

“And if I do?”

“You piss me off too. Because I love you too,” you whisper, forehead against his as your hands cradle his cheeks. Because you do.

When he texts late, and makes your blood boil, it’s only because you love him. When he’s brutally honest and doesn’t say what you want to hear, you’re only mad because you care what he thinks so much. When he’s stubborn and refuses to meet you halfway, you’re only angry because there’s no one else you’d rather cross the bridge with than him.

He pisses you off. You care enough to be pissed because it’s him. And when you piss him off too, he cares enough to deal with it because it’s you.

It’s a funny, twisted little way to love and be loved, but it works. For some odd reason, it does. It’s a seamless, smooth, crackless road.

You don’t ever fix something that’s not broken.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he sighs, resigning himself to your weird, roundabout explanation. You laugh, pinching his cheek as you grin brightly.

“That’s because you’re a bit dim.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes, “okay. Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually. I love you.”

He pauses. Swallows for a moment before his arms tighten their grip on your hips just a smidge before burying his face into your neck and mumbling, “me too. Love you so much, it pisses me off.”

“I like to get under your skin like that,” you stroke his hair, beaming as you add, “guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

His lips stretch into a small grin before a low, rumbling chuckle breathes itself against your skin. “Guess so.”

————————

a/n: insecure modern! au sukuna who doesn’t admit it and refuses to acknowledge that he’s aware he’s difficult to love and can’t understand why you love him but he also doesn’t want to question it for fear of scaring you away is very near and dear to me and i’ll be talking about it from my grave still. you’ll just hear my ghostly voice spooking you through the night talking about how he’s a softie deep down under all the layers. like an ogre okay? ogres have LAYERS.

[kikidoul]

── BREEDING KINK.

ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ 이희승 x fem! reader content established+married relationship ᥫ᭡ warning not proofread explicit sexual content petnames used belly bulge breeding kink implied marathon sex squirting lmk if i miss anything else . . .!? 694 — mlist. req

note. LMAO i ran out of ideas for coming up with a title! wrote this in one sitting and i think this is ASS. taglist. @tfwbluu @heesimps

You weren’t sure how long you’ve been like this—pinned against the dirtied sheets of your bed. The bedframe kept hitting the wall at a steady interval. You were certain you would be getting a noise complaint the very next day, but the thought flew out of your mind the moment Heeseung’s cock hit the spot that made you see stars. Your eyes rolled up, breathless moans and whimpers fell from your lips. The room was filled with the lewd and obscene sound of skin against skin along with your pleasured sounds. 

“Ngh, H-Hee, to-too much, please,” you sobbed, gripping onto the pillow for dear life—as if it was your lifeline. The poor pillow was soaked with your tears and drool. 

Heeseung paid no mind to your words, focused on pushing you to your next orgasm. You didn’t know how many times you’ve cum. Was it two? Or three? But it didn’t matter in the first place, not when your husband was filled with the thought of pumping you full with his cum. He leaned down, his larger figure completely hiding yours from the ceiling light of your bedroom. He pulled you up slightly so he could rest his hand on the faint but evident bulge, poking out from your stomach. 

He gently pressed down, savoring the choked moan you let out. 

“You’re taking me so well and so deep, princess. It’s like you’re asking me to pump you full and make you carry my child. Do you want that, hm?” He coos, voice dripping honey as he whispers into your ears, as if he was telling you a secret that no one else can know. 

“P-Please,” you slurred, too dazed out to articulate your words properly. Seeing how you were reduced to a mess made your husband grinned. 

“Please what?” He teases. 

“Please.. give me m-more,” you begged, too far gone to think straight. 

And who was Heeseung to say no to his pretty girl? 

He pulled out without warning, ignoring the sound of protest you made as he flipped you around so you were now on your bed. This way, he could see and admire the expression you make. Heeseung shoved his cock back in, savoring the high-pitched moan you let out, wasting no time in pounding into you. He ducked his head, leaving kisses on your neck as he sucked and licked your skin, leaving hickeys behind. 

You raised your legs, spreading them wider so he could slide in deeper, mouth parted in a silent ‘O’ as you felt him practically kissing your cervix with the new angle. Heeseung on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty you’ll look carrying his child. He could see it in his mind—you lovingly looking down at the baby bump on your stomach, caressing it with a gentle, heartwarming smile on your face. Just the thought of that was enough to make him feral. 

“Fuck, gonna make you take it. Take, every, single, drop,” he groaned, punctuating his words with hard thrusts to your poor hole, eliciting whimpers from you. 

With your next orgasm coming, Heeseung’s hand snaked down, rubbing your overly-sensitive clit in frantic circles. You outright wailed, no longer having the energy to push him away. All you could do was lay there, taking what he was giving you. You were completely at his mercy—just the way he likes it. All it took was one final thrust and that was all it took for you to tip over the edge. Warm, transparent liquid was ejected from your clit. 

Some landed on the sheets while some landed on your bodies, joining in the already created mess from the previous multiple rounds. Your legs twitched from the intensity of your orgasm as you laid there, pliant and exhausted. 

“Heeseung!” You whined, flinching as you felt his fingers pushing his cum back into your greedy hole. You anxiously gulped when his eyes darkened, focused on how some were dripping out. 

“Think you can go for another round? We don’t want it to go to waste, do we?” He grinned and you knew you’ll be having trouble walking properly for the next few days, or weeks… 

[fluffylino]

angry sex with mean!dom minho

things get heated when the two of yall decide to have a petty argument.

-contains mature themes (minho is mean but its all consensual...sir kink?!?!?)

minho's pissed.

you're pissed.

the atmosphere in the apartment is beyond unimaginable. you came back from university, in a bad mood. sometimes people merely existing made you angry.

you couldn't explain it but you weren't in a great mood at all, and you weren't in the mood to try and make yourself calm down.

minho comes home, half an hour later. quietly entering and slamming the front door behind him.

not even bothering to keep his keys on the glass table with more care. walking right past you to the bedroom.

he has that look on his face when he joins you in the kitchen. drinking the water you had poured for him absentmindedly.

"wash the glass, will you" you mutter, sighing in exasperation. you knew this would only make things worse.

"what?" and his tone gets laced with irritation.

"i had a bad day, okay and i'm not in a good mood" you say to him. leaning back on the fridge.

"yeah? you think i'm not having a fucked up day too?" he spits back, crossing his arms, ready for battle.

"i never said that. stop being so bitchy"

"fix your attitude." minho warns. looking down at his feet before rolling his eyes at your behaviour.

"stop rolling your eyes at me" pointing a finger at him in annoyance.

"don't point a finger at me"

raising an eyebrow at you with a challenging look in his eyes.

"why don't you just go pick a fight with chan or seungmin"

you seethe out, not wanting to argue. if the two of you got more time to calm your nerves this wouldn't have happened.

"pick a fight? what the fuck"

he mutters under his breath. and it makes your eyes burn with tears. now he's mad at you.

"what fucking attitude do i have. i'm sick of dealing with people"

you raise your voice, exhaling heavily.

"and you think i'm not? i just had dance practice for nearly six hours and they told me i needed to do better"

minho says through gritted teeth. running his fingers through his messy hair.

"maybe you do need to do better" you snark back. wanting to get on his nerves just for the hell of it.

"watch what you say."

he warns for the second time and you take it as a challenge.

"or what? you're going to give me a lecture on how to..."

bringing your hands up to gesture quotation marks

"...fix my attitude?"

.

🐱

.

"not gonna fight back huh." your mouth opens to curse at him. and he uses it as the opportunity to pull you back.

ramming himself deeper into you.

"fucking brat"

minho grits out, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your sides. grip strong enough to have him holding you up singlehandedly if he wanted to.

"took it too far. i'm a bitch?" his voice shakes when your arms give in. falling face down into the sheets. back arched and ass up. the position makes things more sensitive.

"answer me."

you can't. teething at the pillow while you fisted at the soft bedsheets beside you. trying to ground yourself.

the feeling of his length pushing in and out of you with slow hard thrusts. torturing himself just to torture you.

"answer." eyes widening at the way he lays a sharp slap over your cunt. all while pulling out all the way.

"me."

sliding past your swollen walls with a filthy squelch. his force strong enough to have your whole body jerk forward. gasping in ecstasy.

you shake your head. or atleast try to, eyes rolling back at the strength he uses to meanly shove your thighs even further apart.

till you're practically presenting to him.

"open that smart ass mouth and use your fucking words." his tone dropping. theres a heartbeat of silence as he gives you a few seconds to answer him.

"ah- m-minnie"

moaning embarassingly loud when he slides his hand down the curve of your back. tugging a fistful of your hair, forcing you up on your arms. till you're on your fours.

"minnie? its sir to you. you don't deserve to even call me minho."

scalp burning with a mix of pain and pleasure.

your mind buzzing when he also gets on his fours. body pressing into yours from above.

"who's a bitch now"

minho says in your ear. brushing his lips against your earlobe. it sends a wave of heat straight to your cunt. throbbing uncontrollably around his dick.

the position has you thinking of how pathetic you are. cursing him out, only to be fucked like a dog from behind.

"are you my needy little bitch" hooking his chin on your shoulder. his arms on either side of yours.

thick thighs framing your smaller ones. you feel small under him. small and weak.

"y-yes sir" whispering softly. chest burning with humiliation. he clicks his tongue. not satisfied.

"speak up, mutt."

"yes sir...m'your needy bitch"

fucking the sentence out of you, in a way that has you breathless. arms trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up.

"taking it like you're in heat."

slowing his thrusts to roll his hips into yours. hitting that spongey spot that has you keening for him.

"next time you act like a fucking brat, don't expect me to be this kind"

he warns, subtly rubbing at the redness on your sides from how hard he was gripping your waist.

you nod vigorously. quietly mumbling apologies.

"is my needy puppy gonna take me all the way in her tight wet cunt hm"

.

.

.

"if i'm your bitch, you're my bitch" you whisper, lightly smacking him on the chest.

"i never said i wasn't a bitch" minho smirks, successfully teasing you.

"y'know i love you, right baby?" he mumbles, kissing your cheek lovingly.

"you're my cute little puppygirl or WAIT MY KITTY CAT!!!"

.

.

..

.

.

tada!

[wild-jackalope]

Nsfw Links

pairing :: Yuta x reader, Yuji x reader, Toge x reader, Megumi x reader, Sukuna x reader, Satoru x reader, Toji x reader, Choso x reader

warning :: aged up Yuta, Yuji, Toge, Megumi, some of these are moaning audios, grinding, handjobs, oral, Choso isn’t always sub, thigh fucking, public-ish, tummy bulge, somno in the Gojo one, teacher student relationship, soft Sukuna mostly, I hate rough sex lol, other sex stuff

note :: lazy asf post, but it gets the most traction

Yuta Okkotsu

thru his shorts — you’re so evil, you don’t even wait to take off his boxers before giving him a hand job. Yuta doesn’t seem to care, though, he’s still whimpering and moaning like always.

nothing makes him moan more than you — you and the feeling of your cunt grinding on top of him, that is.

Feral — Yuta barely ‘fucks’ you, he’s a make love kinda guy! But there’s times when he’s been so far away from you for so long that he just can’t help himself.

Yuji Itadori

we can do other stuff… — well shit, you’re not sure you’re ready to get fucked by him? That’s fine! He gets it, sex is scary. But you’re wet and he’s hard, so maybe he can just show you what’ll it be like?

thinking of you — ever since he fell head over heels for you Yuji can only get off to the image of you in his head. When he’s all alone and touching himself through his pants he imagines you doing it.

Fingering you — loves loves loves to see your back shift and arch when he hits the right spot. Especially with your ass on display for him.

bouncy — he’s so strong, sometimes Yuji doesn’t even realise he’s shoving you into the bed whilst rutting his hips into you.

putting it in — He’s thick and you’re so tight. He can barely get half his cock inside you, but shit he really fucking wants to.

Toge Inumaki

kiss it before you eat — before he digs into your folds, he presses delicate kisses to your cunt. He loves to feel you shivers under his mouth at the sweet sensation.

face to face — since Toge can’t talk it’s important you’re able to see his face. When it’s screwed up in pleasure, you know he’s enjoying himself.

once he starts he wont stop — don’t think just because you’re wriggling around and squirming that Toge with take his mouth away from his favourite meal.

Megumi Fushiguro

slowly, we’ll work our way up — sex doesn’t always immediately just happen between couples! You and Megumi were the type to work your way up to it. He still remembers the first time you sled naked and wet up and down his cock. He came so hard <3

listen to him moan — he really tries to hold it together whenever you do something to please him; like head or a handjob but you can hear the cracks in his voice as he crumbles under your touch.

gentle touches — he starts slow, rubbing you through your thong and kissing you before he pulls it to the side and slides his long fingers inside you.

Sukuna Ryomen

keep it shut — as much as Sukuna loves to hear your little whines and moans, sometimes he likes to hear it muffled against his large hands while he fingers you.

tied up — rope is basically vanilla in your relationship. Sukuna just loves to have your body restricted with easy access to his every whim.

you’re his toy to play with — He’ll toss you onto the bed and play with your pretty pussy whenever he wants to. With how many times he’s done, Sukuna’s practically better at getting you off than you are.

Satoru Gojo

coming home to you — Satoru’s days are long and hard. It doesn’t help when you (who he barely gets to fuck on a regular basis) sends him lewd photos and nasty messages about how much you miss him. You know he’s going to fuck you good when he gets home, that’s why you’re already wet when you hear the front door unlock.

just a quick break — you looked too fucking good at the party. How could he not pull you into the bathroom and hump himself into you until he cums? Maybe if you’re lucky, he won’t cum inside you (he will).

favourite student — being put on a mission together with your teacher sounded fine, but sharing a bed kinda crossed the line. Although when you wake up filled to the brim with Satoru moaning above you the line seems out of sight.

Too big, but he wont stop — he’ll just convince you, you like the pain of being stretched out by his cock. Your tight pussy feels too fucking good to let you have time to adjusted.

Toji Fushiguro

what else did you expect? — you wore a short skirt around him. Of course he’s going to force you onto his cock like you’re his favourite fucktoy (because you are his favourite).

tummy bulge — what’s more to say? He’s so big and always fucks you so deep.

eye contact — you know Toji loves to see you black out on his cock, see your eyes roll back as tears slip down your cheeks. Just keep fucking look at him.

let me hear it, doll — of course he likes to embarrass you, and what’s more embarrassing that calling him daddy whilst he play with your puss?

Choso Kamo

just the tip — sometimes you’re not up to taking the entirety of Choso’s length and he’s more than willing to compromise for you! After all, it hardly matters he’s not all the way inside you, he still cums just as hard.

he’ll always offer up his thigh — don’t think Choso is the only pathetic sub in your relationship. He loves to feel you work yourself up on his thigh, holding you in a thigh hug reassuring that he will fill you up. Eventually.

size difference — he can’t bear to have you even an inch away from him. He wants to hug you, so close, so tight. So much that you can’t even touch the floor.

in your hands — nothing, really, just jerking Choso off <3

[fruittt-punchhh]

thinking abouuuuuut somno w needy! toji

but needy! toji specifically in the middle of the night and like he’s so tiiiired and desperate and ugh. I have a thing for needy, desperate, tired men pls lay off of me. Inspired by @theobsidianempress

needy! toji who wakes up hard behind you in your oh so tiny pajama shorts, warm legs tangled in his as you subconsciously push your hips further into him.

needy! toji who seemed to wake up most nights around this time, almost like his body was on an internal clock set to go off when you looked your best, all tired and a peaceful as you dream your night away.

needy! toji who never wore anything to bed besides a chain and his ring, which made your cute shuffling in the bed a problem for his now half-hard cock.

needy! toji who had fucked you once twice today, once in the morning before he left for work and once after dinner. but his appetite was never satiated when it came to you.

needy! toji who wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he grabs a handful of your tit, kneading it as he grinds into your ass.

needy! toji who was now going to take full advantage of this ‘free use’ bullshit you mentioned to him a few days back.

needy! toji who tries to be gentle, tries to keep you asleep as he satisfies you. his large, rough hands rub circles on your clit as you shift in bed, breathing heavy - unbeknownst to you.

needy! toji who dares to see how far he can take things before you wake, playfully biting your shoulder, sucking on the soft skin as he chuckles to himself when you let a quiet whine slip.

needy! toji who pulls your left leg up over his, up and out of the way so he can fish his big hands down the back of your shorts like the nasty bastard he was - shoving two of his thick fingers into your already soaked pussy from behind as soon as he finds your entrance.

needy! toji who debates finger fucking you until you wake up, deciding against it so he can hear your sweet, muffled noises when he finally pushes his throbbing cock inside of you.

needy! toji who lets a whine slip with the knowledge that you’re still asleep, so beautifully stimulated by your tight, gummy walls. needy! toji who doesn’t understand how you’re still so tight after being fucked twice already today. needy! toji who doesn’t understand how you’re still asleep.

needy! toji who didn’t realize you’ve been awake since his hands snuck under your waistband.

needy! toji who gets three full thrusts in before you’re pushing back into him with a giggle as he fills you sooo snug to the brim.

needy! toji who pushes you roughly onto your stomach once he realizes your little trick, trapping both of your legs tightly between his so he can fuck you mean like he’s wanted to all day.

needy! toji who had to be gentle this morning because you were ‘tiiiiired’ and needy! toji who let you ride him until he was spraying your insides white after dinner. needy! toji who hasn’t had the chance all day to take you like he needs, letting you get your way two too many times.

needy! toji who shoves your head into your pillow, ruffling your hair up purposefully because he’s such a meanie. “been waiting - hah.. for this, little girl” he says, the sharp jabs of his hips bringing you close to your orgasm already.

needy! toji who can’t believe how wrapped around your finger he is, can’t believe he let you fuck him how you wanted earlier today. needy! toji who can’t believe he even had any resolve to stop himself from fucking you how you deserved earlier. “been.. so.. fuckin’.. nice.. all.. goddamn.. day” he spits, each word punctuated by an aggressive, deep, slow thrust that left you breathless.

needy! toji who can’t believe how close he is already, thinking he’d be good to go for hours with how much he’s cum already today. “fuck you y/n.. your stupid.. perfect pussy’s gonna make me bust too quick,”

needy! toji who bucks into you faster now, staring at how the fat of your ass jiggles and bounces with each thrust as you yelp into your pillow. “yeah - that’s it. cum on me, squeeze me.. milk me, ma,” he begs, forcing the words out as he feels you clamp down on his length.

needy! toji who’s mad at how tight you get, mad at how dripping wet you are, mad at how incredible you look, mad at the cute noises you make, mad at how you have him so vulnerable in the moment.

needy! toji who’s mad because he knows - gun to his head, he couldn’t pull out. knife to his neck even, it’d take an act of god to pull him from your precious cunt.

needy! toji whose voice pitches up an octave or two as he cums, bearing his full body weight on your back, pumping so rough into you as you milk him dry.

needy! toji who tells you to use your shirt to clean up as he rolls back over, already snoring before you’ve got up to use the restroom.

[moyazaika]

tbh jaded lawyer darling trying to save yan crime kingpin from getting his ass thrown into prison for life — yet again.

he’s lingering at the court’s steps, entertaining the news reporters with a dazzling smile, the entire world waiting with bated breath to see whether this is the day his billion dollar criminal empire comes crumbling down—

“the whole world knows you did it!”

“are you ashamed of yourself?”

“do you really think you’ll walk away a free man after today?”

that gets his attention.

“darling, don’t ‘ya worry about me,” he turns to the journalist, and tilts his head to the side, pulling out his lollipop from between those lips, curled in a sly grin. “i ain’t gotta worry ‘bout no fuckin’ laws when i got the world’s best damn lawyer on my side.”

a young man, then. thick glasses and braces on his teeth. far too thin and lanky, for all his balls of steel as he speaks up. “are you implying that your lawyer is an accessory to your crimes? a corrupt lawyer for a guilty man on his way to the gallows?”

he hears you approach before he can think to respond. the familiar, expensive echo of the dress shoes he’d bought you the first time you’d won a case, before you’re there where he thinks you belong; right by his side.

“alleged crimes,” you correct, and your kingpin turns to greet you with a million dollar smile. “now, my client will not be taking any more questions. kindly, fuck off.”

cameras flash instantly and countless more mics are shoved into his pretty face, still mesmerised by you, even when you grab him by the back of his collar (unironed, you notice with absolute dismay) and pull him inside, away from prying eyes.

“you’re being tried for sixteen drug and weapons counts,” you hiss, digging your newly manicured nails into his skin, as you pull the lollipop he’s sucking on right out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’ and toss it to the side, seething. “when will you fucking get serious!”

he only dumbly stares back at you with a slack jaw, and stars in his eyes. his voice dips an octave lower, deep in his throat when he speaks. “oh, i could get very serious if you wanted to give me a kiss. or, y’know, maybe you could act as a replacement to that sweet lollipop of mine ‘ya just—oh, fuck!”

when you stride into the courtroom later, in your neat, pressed suit and slicked back hair, nobody dares ask why the infamous ‘alleged’ crime lord is following after you with a bruise blossoming on cheeks that flush a deep, deep scarlet.

-

the judge announces the jury's verdict, and you don’t even look up from the documents you’re perusing when he’s found ‘not guilty’ in a court of law, yet again—

“jesus fuckin’ christ, i knew you were gonna save me!” your kingpin jumps up from where he’s sitting besides you, pressing his face into your shoulder as he breathes you in with an elated, shuddering breath. “can’t even imagine which ditch i’d be rottin’ in without ‘ya, sweet pea.”

“excuse me, sir.” you pry his hands off you with a detached air of reservation you reserve for when the two of you are in public, but the way your knuckles are white when you gather the countless files and papers of yours scattered on your desk tell him everything he needs to know about how pissed you are. “hands off.”

he knows he’s in for it when the two of you get home, and yet, he looks forward to the sight.

it’s always more… exciting than it should be; when you’ve got him shoved right up against a well, going off about how ‘irresponsible’ and ‘immature’ he is, nails leaving his skin bleeding from how deep you sink them into his body, too caught up in your own irritation to notice or, honestly, care.

and maybe, he thinks, as he follows you out, tonight he’ll go pay a visit to someone after you’re done with him.

a man’s got needs, y’know?

he’s high off the rush of his latest win when he walks up the porch steps hours later. it's really only the latest achievement in a long line he attributes solely to you and your efforts.

he’ll make sure to repay you one day, with all you’ve done for him. he’ll take such good care of you; let you do whatever you wanted to him, as a token of his appreciation for how hard you've worked to keep him on the streets he rules and out of the prisons he knows he belongs in.

in fact, his efforts start right here and right now; on the steps of a nice, suburban house, that belongs to the journalist with thick glasses and braces and a wiry frame. the white picket fence and 'keep off the grass' sign do little to deter the man outside. then again, the poor bastard could have had gates of iron, and he still would have found a way to creep inside.

he never knew being a journalist paid so well. shit, maybe he should’ve gone down this path instead of, y’know, running a criminal empire. this bastard's got balls of steel, for what he had the nerve to say about you. but it’s okay! hey! he’s here to take care of it for you!

you don’t ever need to find out what he’s done in your name. ♡

he’s very adamant about this, choosing to see the job to completion all alone, slinking away from your critical, watchful gaze—only once he’s made sure you’re knocked out by watching you sleep, crouched by your bedside, for a few hours—to make sure the problem’s all taken care of.

the kingpin rings the doorbell, and patiently waits for the door to open with his scarred hands held behind his back. there’s a glock in his left back pocket, and a silencer in the right. a swiss army knife curled in his fingers, because he’s always been creative.

yeah, can you believe that? his teachers used to tell him he would make a great artist one day. and he is, he likes to think. only that his canvases are a little less traditional, and not in the banksy way. you know how it is! life imitates art... or some hippie shit like that.

there's no rules in art for what you can paint with, right? or what surfaces you can carve up into pretty shapes...

and so, when the lock clicks open, and the handle turns, it’s exactly like he said; a man’s got needs!

so sue him! really, so what if his needs mean his heavy hands are clamping over the journalist’s mouth, twisted into a silent scream—

so what if he knocks the smaller man back, a fist flying to his face, those wide eyes and all, slack jaw stupidly hanging open in disbelief—

so what if he shoves him inside and kicks the door behind them shut?

your kingpin knows what comes with the life he chose, and sullying his name is one thing—but nobody gets to drag your name through the dirt and live.

he makes sure of that, personally.

-

“where did you go last night?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the weekly newspaper in your hands. there, on the front page, a greyscale photo of you and your headache of a client, descending the court’s steps after the verdict. “and why didn’t you ask for my permission before you left?”

the headline, in big, bold letters, splashed above the picture; INTERNATIONAL OUTRAGE AS INFAMOUS DRUG LORD EVADES LAW YET AGAIN. SHADY LAWYER TO BLAME?

“just takin’ out the trash, lovely. don’t you worry ‘yer pretty little mind about it.” as he says that, he abandons his own breakfast, suddenly snatching the paper out of your hands and ripping it up, but not before noting the name of the article’s author, tucking it away for later.

shreds of the weekly paper you hadn't even gotten to read yet fall to the floor, fluttering this way and that. you close your eyes and smile. “haha. funny. well, my ‘pretty little mind’ is telling me to throw the coffee in my hands all over you.”

“tryna mark me up?” he purrs, “if you really wanna wake me up, can i suggest somethin’ else ‘ya could throw at me? or on me, really. but—”

“i’m going to kill you in your sleep, one of these days.” you deadpan, turning back to your food. he’s like a little kid, and you’re not about to indulge him by giving him the attention he so desperately wants from you.

“'yer serious??" he grins, hands flying to his face in elation, a curious blush colouring his skin a deep pink. “you mean you actually wanna step into my bedroom— at night— of 'yer own damn will?“

you take another sip of your coffee, fingers trembling around the cup. don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what—

“damn... guess i should start sleeping naked, then.”

extra; what if darling was a prosecutor instead?

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello, hope you're a having a good day

Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu

Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.

So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning

Word Count: 2.4k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Come on. Come at me.”

Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.

Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.

Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.

Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.

Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.

You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.

“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.

It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.

This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.

Fucking beautiful.

Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.

“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”

With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.

You’re completely trapped beneath him.

And in a completely inappropriate position.

From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.

Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.

“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.

“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.

The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.

“Soap—”

His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”

“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.

The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.

Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.

Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.

One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.

“You—”

“Are we interrupting something?”

You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.

Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.

You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.

But Johnny’s has.

With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.

“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.

The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.

Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.

“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.

“Hate me that much?” he teases.

“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”

Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.

“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”

He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.

Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.

Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.

You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.

As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.

You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.

Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.

“You’re improving,” he says.

“I have a good teacher.”

Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.

He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.

Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.

“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”

His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.

John Price

Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.

"Again."

Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."

"And you need practice," counters Price.

He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.

Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.

Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.

You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.

Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.

"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."

Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.

"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.

That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.

Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.

"You need to do better-"

"Captain."

Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.

"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."

Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.

"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.

"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.

"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."

Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.

“What?" you snap

"Pointers," he repeats.

"Oh, fuck off, Simon."

He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Your posture is terrible."

"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.

"Are you sassing me?"

"No."

Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”

“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”

“What was that?”

You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”

Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."

You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.

"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."

You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.

"Again,” nods Simon.

"Really?"

Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.

Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."

"What way?"

“Grab your knife and find out.”

Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.

Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.

Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.

"Again,” he growls.

Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.

"Again."

Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.

This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.

"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."

You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.

Awareness settles in.

Simon is all hardness over you.

"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.

His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.

“I have one,” he murmurs.

Bet I can guess.

“How do you want it?” he continues.

"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.

It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.

There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.

Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.

It's only a tease. You want the real thing.

"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.

Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.

That one. Got it.

“We should—”

A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.

“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.

He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”

You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”

Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”

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[vanteguccir]

Hey i have a request if u have time and like ittt!!

So basically matts fucking you and chris is tired of all the noise, so he walks in to matts room casually. Proceeds to pick up ur panties from the floor and stuffs ur mouth. And sum hot idkkkkkkkk i aint a writer

Love ur fics tho girl

── ୨୧ !　SMUT BLURB

matt sturniolo x reader

where chris had had enough of your loud moans with his brother and shut you up with your panties... and you're a exhibitionist little shit

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Oh fuck- Matt-" Y/N gasped, her voice breaking with every breath.

She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on anything but the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins. Her thighs - wet with her arousal - quivered uncontrollably, her toes curling against the bed as Matt thrust into her with raw, primal need.

But beneath them, Chris had had enough.

For the past thirty minutes, he had been subjected to the incessant banging of the bed against the wall and Y/N’s loud, unfiltered moans. He tried to block it out, putting a pillow over his head or playing random songs in the top volume on his headphones, but it was no use. The noise was relentless, invading every corner of his room, and his patience had finally snapped.

With a growl of frustration, Chris pushed back his blankets, stormed out of his room, and headed upstairs.

Y/N didn’t hear Chris’s footsteps approaching. Her mind too far gone in the pleasure coursing through her body. She moaned Matt’s name again, her voice loud and breathy, the sound echoing in the room as Matt quickened his pace, his own groans mixing with hers.

The door to Matt’s room suddenly burst open, and without warning, Chris strode in, his face a mask of annoyance. Y/N’s head was still buried in the mattress, her body still trembling as Matt froze mid-thrust, too shocked to react right away.

Chris, however, didn’t seem the least bit phased by the scene before him. He walked into the room far too casually, his eyes sweeping over the pair with a mixture of irritation and curiosity. His tongue slipped between his pink lips, wetting them while taking in the sight of Y/N’s completely naked form, her body bent over the bed, her fingers digging into the dark blue sheets, clutching them like a lifeline, and Matt’s shocked, wide-eyed expression.

"What the fuck, Chris?" Matt sputtered, his voice filled with disbelief as he finally reacted, trying to cover Y/N's boobs with his large hands and her ass with his own body, ignoring the loud whine that echoed from her with his movements. "Get out, man!"

But Chris ignored him. His gaze drifted down to the floor where Y/N’s discarded pink lacy panties lay. Without a word, Chris bent down, scooping it up, and then moved toward the bed. Y/N, still lost in the haze of pleasure, barely registered his presence until she felt slender fingers pressing her jaw with moderate strength, forcing her to open her mouth before something was stuffed against her tongue.

Her eyes widened in shock, muffled sounds of protest escaping her throat as she realized what had happened, her eyes meeting the blue ones that looked right back at hers.

Chris really had shoved her own panties into her mouth, effectively shutting her up. Her face burned with a mix of embarrassment and something darker, something that thrilled her in a way she hadn’t expected.

Matt, still in shock, didn’t know whether to laugh or be pissed off.

"Chris, what the hell is wrong with you?" He growled, though there was an underlying tension in his voice, the absurdity of the situation not lost on him as he searched for his brother's eyes.

Chris smirked, his gaze gleaming with mischief as he glanced between the two of them.

"If I’m going to be forced to listen to all this." He said smoothly, his voice low and teasing while his hands motioned from one to another. "The least I could do is shut her up. A guy needs his silent time, right?" He gave Y/N a pointed look, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched her squirm beneath his brother, her muffled whines filling the room with the feeling of Matt's dick moving only a bit inside her walls.

Y/N’s mind was racing, her body responding despite the embarrassment flooding her senses. The feel of her panties getting dump in saliva inside her mouth and the sheer absurdity of the situation had her heart racing in ways she hadn’t expected, causing her to press her face deeper against the mattress, trying to disappear.

Matt, however, was less amused. He shook his head, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"You’re such an asshole." He muttered, though he couldn’t deny the tension in the room had only heightened after Chris’s interruption.

Chris chuckled, clearly pleased with himself as he straightened up and turned toward the door.

"Just keep it down next time." He said over his shoulder, throwing one last smirk at them before sauntering out of the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Chris, leaving Matt and Y/N in the heavy silence of the room, Y/N's body reacted almost immediately. Despite the absurdity of what had just happened - or maybe because of it - her hips pushed back instinctively, seeking more of Matt. Her body begged for him to continue, her mind still reeling from the humiliation and thrill of being caught.

Matt's eyes widened at first, surprised by her reaction, but then a dark chuckle escaped his lips as he felt her ass press insistently against him, almost fucking herself on his dick. Her whines, now muffled, were desperate, needy. She wanted more. She needed it.

"Fuck." Matt muttered under his breath, his voice taking on a darker, more commanding tone. "You liked that, didn't you?" He murmured, bending his upper body and pressing his chest firmly against her back, his breath hot against the nape of her neck. "Getting caught like that... having him see you like this. Like the little whore you're for me, yeah?"

Y/N whimpered again, her body responding eagerly as her hips pushed back against him harder, silently begging him to keep going. Her face was still pressed deep into the sheets, her muffled whines escaping through the makeshift gag Chris had left in her mouth. She was trembling, her body aching for more.

Matt’s hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as he laughed again, this time lower. He leaned his head, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered.

"You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you? Letting him see you so exposed and open, and now... you can’t get enough, can you?"

Y/N moaned into the fabric, her eyes rolling up her skull with his talking and the fresh memory of Chris's eyes on her, the sound vibrating against the panties in her mouth. Her body was practically begging for Matt to move, to do something, to give her the release she so desperately needed.

Matt grinned wickedly, the dark amusement still dancing in his eyes as he tightened his grip on her hips, pulling her back against him before pushing her forward again, forcing her to fuck herself on his cock.

Her thighs trembled when she felt his tip brushing only a bit against her sweet spot, and she let out another muffled whine, her hips rocking back against him again, needing him right there. The feeling of her body pressed so tightly against him, her whimpers of need muffled and helpless, only served to ignite Matt’s desire further.

"Alright." Matt murmured darkly, his tone teasing as his hand slid down, fingers brushing the curve of her ass, squeezing the flesh hard. "You want it? You’ll get it, but you have to work for it."

He pressed his other hand on her small back, forcing her to bent her upper body even more - if that was even possible, searching the control he needed. With a slow, deliberate movement, he ground his hips against hers, teasing her, dragging out the moment as she squirmed beneath him, her muffled cries growing more frantic.

"Is this what you want, baby?" He taunted, his voice a low growl as he pressed himself harder against her. "Because I can feel how fucking wet you're." He let out another dark laugh, enjoying the power he had over her in this moment. "And all it took was Chris walking in on us for you to become this needy mess."

Y/N's muffled response was a mix of whimpers and "Matt's", her body trembling as she tried to raise her ass more in the air, searching for the friction her body was begging for.

Matt's grip on her waist tightened even more, his fingers digging into her skin as he finally snapped his hips against hers hard enough to make her thighs shake and her fingers dig into the sheets.

"Alright, baby." He whispered, his tone full of lust and dominance as he positioned himself, ready to turn her into a cock drunk mess. "Let’s see how loud you can be now... even with your mouth so fucking full."

I never know how long and large I can go in a blurb 😭🤡

[muzansfangs]

Nsfw alphabet – the Salesman (letters f, k, q, t, w)

Starring: the Salesman x f!reader;

Format: head canons;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, creampie, unprotected sex, sadism, gagging, masturbation, public sex, toxic traits, humiliation, dacryphilia, spanking, impact playing, slapping, dom!salesman, sub!reader, gun playing, handcuffing, mention to pregnancy, anal sex;

Plot: some nsfw head canons about the Salesman aka the Recruiter, based on some letters of the alphabet;

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

The Salesman has manhandled you in positions you did not even think were humanly manageable. Out of them, however, the salesman loves to have you either on your hands and knees, head pressed down in the pillow, or the good old mating press.

You could say it depends mostly on his mood. If he keeps the eye-contact with you, he is feeling somewhat more romantic, more human. Even if his cock brushes against your cervix unforgivingly every now and then. Your legs, pressed to your chest, make you look vulnerable and he loves that.

And, damn, is he not talkative when he messes you up like that?

“Fuck, I was thinking that fucking you raw is like playing the Russian Roulette. If I hit the nail on the head, we are screwed” he growled next to your ear, not minding the risk of impregnating you.

If he encloses the back of your neck with his hand and pushes your face down on the mattress, my dear, he is going to ravage you until you are sore. But he loves the way your ass ripple with each brutal thrust he gives you. The words falling from his mouth are far less loving than the possibility of getting you pregnant.

“Slut, you’re dripping like a cat in heat”.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This man probably has a tattoo somewhere on his body reciting ‘kinky bastard’ in capital letters. The first one is dacryphilia. To some extent, he may care for your well-being during sex. It is rough, mindblowing. Obviously, it leaves you shaking, copious tears streaming down your cheeks. You have no idea how hard he gets, when you sob underneath him, needy, hapless and on the brink of breaking down.

Spanking and face slapping are a must. He does not hit you as hard as he does to the potential players he meets at the station. However, he does not go easy on you. You are bruised, at the end of the day.

If he is upset, expect him to lure you to have some anal sex. Your whimpers when he stretch you out himself are a manna from heaven. Unfortunately, it may last not as long as it does when he is messying up your pussy. It is all about pain. The more desperate you are, the faster he spurts into you.

The mention of honor goes to gun play. He never tells you if it is really loaded, or not, when he presses it against your temple. What you know is that you are still alive.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Our dear recruiter is a busy man, especially when that time of the year comes. When he comes back home, it is so late you are already alseep. Do not think he would have remorses in waking you up, if he needs to fuck you dumb, because he would.

The thing is he needs to rest too. Quickies are not his thing, but they are necessary. He is a sneaky bastard, not sticking to have them early in the morning, or when he is about to leave.

He may stalk you down the streets, easily becoming your shadow until you end up nearing an alley. My dear, this is when he clasps his hand over your mouth and shoves you against the wall. You are used to his antics by now. You do not feel ashame to walk off with a limp, afterwards. Not anymore, at least.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

This man has probably owns an arsenal of toys. And, no, we are not talking about his weapons. He is not the type to indulge in plain vanilla sex. There is always going to be some kind of an object among the bedsheets, when he pins you underneath him and reels at the lewd faces you make for him.

He is a sadist inclined to use the toys on his favorite victim: you.

Do not be surprised, if he handcuffs you to the bedpost, or involves ropes in the particularly intense sessions awaiting for you, when he had a bad day. You cry out in pleasure and pain and it is irking him? Fine. Gags it is.

He sees you as a small pet eager to please him. Drool for him, whilst he uses nipple clamps on your already sensitive buds. If you wince, when he is deep inside of you, he may just shoot his load deep in your bowels. Nothing excites him more than your teary eyes and wobbling lower lip.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is definitely territorial. His jealousy takes over easily and, along with hickeys hard, if not impossible, to camouflage with a scarf and some make up, he jerks off with your panties. He does not see the necessity to make you wear your now cum-covered underwear, if he is by your side, though.

Yet, expect him to demand you to parade around the city, unable to hide the squelching sounds of your thighs brushing together, when the cum seeps from the fabric and stains the inside of your legs, if you are going out alone. Your boss, your friends, the men you cross paths with throughout the day, well, they just have to know you have a boyfriend and that you comply to his excessively unhinged and demeaning requests to please him.

When you reunite at home, he expects you to sit on his lap and narrate the mortifying experience of talking to strangers, or coworkers whilst entirely soaked and smelling of his semen.

Author note.

Hello there! This is my first time writing for the Squid Game fandom. Hopefully, I did not disappoint the audience! Let’s just say that my brainrot for this man was eating me alive and I had to write a little something for him. Your impressions and comments are greatly appreciated!

Love,

– Luce