#full hoodie's print be like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

r4spb3rr13s · 13 days

Text

pro heroes meeting their feisty, mcbling gf

♱ bakugou, kirishima, midoriya, dabi

♱ pt.2 here!

note: it’s me, i’m the feisty mcbling gf 😞

Katsuki has been on shift for what feels like hours. In reality… well it has been hours. He’s been patrolling a smaller, more mundane part of Tokyo, where all he’s done is help little old ladies with their groceries and scold kids for trying to steal candy.

He was dying to get home.

So, when he heard a scream five minutes from patrol ending, the groan he let out was loud, unprofessional and frankly, really douche-y of him. But still, he flew towards the alley it echoed from.

He turned the corner, expecting a damsel in distress…

Only to see you.

Beating a man with a Juicy Couture suede bag, wobbling on platform sandals.

While this man lets out the girliest, highest-pitched screams Katsuki has ever heard in his life.

“That’s.” Hit. “What.” Hit. “You.” Hit. “Get!” Big hit!

Katsuki blinks out of his trance and takes a booming step toward you. “What the fuck’s goin on?”

You gasp and look up, and Katsuki swears his heart is echoing out of his chest.

Your s/c skin is everywhere, from your jean shorts to the cleavage practically spilling out your leopard print zip-up, and as you straighten up, he catches a glimpse of a belly ring that makes him gulp.

Your hair frames your face with a pair of sunglasses at the top of your head, showing off a fantastic scowl. Glittery eyes are met with furrowed brows, decorated with piercings-galore on your face, and two big hoops either side of your head.

“This prick!” You punctuate it with a nudge of your painted-pink toe, “Tried to rob me! I kneed him in his tiny balls.”

Katsuki raises a brow. You take a minute to glare at the guy, still whimpering, before you strut towards him with narrowed eyes.

You hate to admit it, but Dynamight was hotter in real life. Soot is smeared on his cheek and the scowl on his face sends his ruby-red lasers shooting through you.

“What? You have a staring problem?” You ask with a hand on your hip. Every ounce of confidence you’re letting off is soooo clearly fake right now, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He shakes his head and looks around you to the poor guy on the floor. He’s not going anywhere, still curled up in a feral position and cradling his nads.

Katsuki sweats.

“Alright, sweetheart-”

You try to pretend it doesn’t make your heart skip a beat.

“Sweetheart?” He freezes and looks down at your cocked brow. “At least take me out for a drink first, Mr. Dynamight, c’mon.”

He clears his throat awkwardly, “Shit- sorry, I didn’t- look, you’re okay, right? No injuries?”

You’re inspecting your nails at this point, trying to avoid looking at the muscles in his hero costume. “Huh? Nah, but he should probably get checked out. Am I good to go?”

You sound eager to leave, but you make no move to when he nods.

Instead, you stand, scrutinising him with crossed arms. Katsuki hates to admit it, but even standing a whole foot taller than you, you’re making the blond blush.

“Okay, what? You need somethin’?” He gruffly says.

You glance back at the idiot still on the floor, and he flinches at your gaze.

“You don’t need my number for a report or somethin’?”

The words leave your mouth sooner than you can stop them, but you keep your face cool as your turn around. God, you need a smoke after this.

Katsuki’s hearts skips a beat, but his lip quirks up and he huffs out a chuckle. He reaches into one his pockets, and passes you his phone.

He’s still blushing, but God that man is grinning as well.

:::

Eijiro is mid-lat pulldown when he hears you through the full blast of his headphones. Being the manly pro he is, he takes an earbud out to hear the commotion.

“When I say fuck off, I mean fuck off! What part of that isn’t get through your thick skull?”

Eijiro watched as you scream in a steroid-fueled gym-bro’s face. You’re jabbing a pink nail in his chest, neon pink shorts matching to a sports bra and a small hoodie on your top half.

He gets off the machine, and a loud clang echoes through the gym - you don’t even notice.

“What, too much muscle blocking your brain from working?”

The guy is getting ready to respond, an ugly, violent grimace on his face. As Eijiro steps behind you and crosses his arms, the guy thinks twice.

He nods at you, and turns away, practically running.

You huff and tuck a loose piece of hair behind your hair.

“What was that?”

You jump at the voice and spin around with a shout. A chest- Jesus Christ, he’s tall. You’re face-to-chest with a man covered in muscle, a sharp-toothed smile and spiky, red hair to match it.

“Oh!”

…

He raises a brow and smiles at you.

A blush is fighting it’s way onto your face, but you’re too cool for that. Way too cool. So you clear your throat and stop staring at his adorable face for a minute.

“He wasn’t taking no for an answer,” You huff and cross your arms.

Eijiro frowns, “Shit, that sucks. Do you come here often?”

…

It’s your turn to raise a brow.

His face turns as red as his hair when he realises how stupid that sounded. It’s weirdly endearing watching such a large man blush and panic in front of you.

“N-no, like, I can get him banned if you’re a regular. I know the owners, so-”

“Where do I know you from?” You cut him off, doing mental gymnastics.

Eijiro freezes as he watches you. Your thick lashes touch your brows as you go wide-eyed, staring at him intently. So intently, he’s terrified to move a muscle.

You click your fingers and point a sparkly nail at his chest, “Red Riot! I knew I recognised you from somewhere.”

He grins and shrugs. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I mean,” You trail off for a minute, using all your self-restraint to not blush or stutter in front of this fine-ass man, “if you ever wanted to come to rescue again, I could just give you my number?”

Eijiro has never grabbed his phone faster in his life.

:::

Izuku has been caught in the midst of little fans. Children are detaching themselves from parents, flying away from friend groups to crowd around for his autograph. He’s reminded again why he always wears a cap and glasses when he goes to the mall.

He just needed to pick up a pair of boxers, for Gods sake.

A little boy comes hurtling at him, but such is the norm. What he doesn’t see is the girl sprinting after him- sprinting in platform heels that is.

Jeans cling to you tighter than your zebra print top, and the tiny handbag on your shoulder keeps slipping down. Every step you take is a loud jingle with the massive array of jewellery you have on, and star-shaped clips in your hair keep slipping out.

“Deku! You’re the coole-”

“Isamu! Get back here!” You screech. Your sister was going to kill you if she knew the one time you took your nephew out for a little trip to the mall, you lost him.

Watching him talk to a stranger was almost the cherry on top.

You come to a skidding stop, somehow not hurtling over on your open-toed death machines, and grab the 5 year old by the armpits. Isamu let’s out an excited shriek and smiles at you.

Then he points to the guy.

That guy being the number one hero in Japan.

You nearly drop your nephew.

“Oh my God-”

“I’m so sorry-”

You both speak at the same time, then shut up, and just stare at each other like two idiots. He’s not in his costume - duh, idiot, he’s at the mall?- but he looks just as good as he does with his face plastered all over Tokyo.

Strong arms are straining the seams of his black shirt, and his dark hair is brushing the nape of his neck- it looks so soft-

“I’m really sorry, I should have come out with my hat on, sunglasses-”

“Please do not apologise for looking that good,” You mutter and roll your eyes. Then you freeze. Then you both look at each other, while you nibble your lip and smear your lipgloss everywhere.

“Deku! Can I have your auto map!” Isamu screeches from your arms, wiggling like a worm. It’s getting hard to hold him, so you plop him down and hold his hand instead.

“Autograph, buddy, not auto map,” You whisper in his ear.

Izuku’s heart skips a beat. You are gorgeous, silly and amazing with kids- I mean, what else could he really ask for?

He nods and crouched to Isamu’s height.

“Who am I making it out to, then?”

Isamu screams his government name so loud you want to cover your ears, but you just smile awkwardly at Izuku crouching under you.

He looks at you with his big, doe eyes and a soft smile. “What about you?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want an autograph-”

“Your name?”

Oh shit. You mutter it and watch with a smile as the pro scrawls on a notebook he miraculously pulled out from his arse. His round, perky-

“There you go, Isamu. It was great meeting you,” He pats your nephew’s head, who is practically beaming. “It was nice meeting you too, Y/n,” he adds, and turns away with a wave.

As you walk away, Isamu thrusts the paper in your hand.

“LOOK AT IT AUNTIE Y/N!!”

‘if it’s not too forward, id like you text me sometime y/n :)’ and next to the note is his number.

Cheeky bitch.

:::

Dabi has no fucking idea how he ended up in a bar blasting Kesha from the speakers with millennial women screaming ‘this was my party song!’ but he hates it.

Until he sees you.

You’re in the tiniest jean skirt he’s ever seen, and your ass cheeks are so close to popping out. If you’d just stopped swaying your hips and bend over, he’d get a glimpse-

But you turn around, and he watches you twist and turn in a matching halter top, jewellery adding rhythms to the music.

Dabi swears he has never seen anything as captivating as your baby pink lips mouth along to Die Young. God, was he really thinking that? In relation to Kesha? You must be special, he thinks to himself.

He makes no move, though. He sits at the bar, watching you tip back fruity cocktails and teeter on your fur-covered boots.

He looks away for a second, he swears, and suddenly you’re on the bar stool next to him. Not just sat, but staring. Like, blatantly staring right at him.

He mirrors you, leaning on his palm and watching you.

You’d be lying if you tried to say his cerulean eyes weren’t doing something to you, but there were more pressing issues at hand.

“You’ve been staring at me all night.”

It’s a fact, he has been.

A smile curls onto his lips, and he shifts so he’s closer to you. “Have I? Didn’t notice…”

You’re drunk. Like, much too drunk, because his face is a blur- a handsome blur though. You are aware enough to tell he’s staring at your tits, though.

You click your fingers in his face and he looks back up at you. There’s a moment on his face where he looks shocked, but a bigger smirk replaces it.

“Sorry, hun-”

“Hun? What am I, 5?”

He leans forward, and the overwhelming stench of a beach fire is fighting with your Britney Spears perfume. The air starts to smell like burnt sugar around you, and it’s weirdly compelling.

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“Well, you’ll need my number to call me.”

It takes you a minute to realise how dumb that was- you’re drunk and that is not what he meant, but it made him drop the cool boy act. He stared at you for a second with wide eyes before chuckling under his breath.

“You are somethin’, princess…”

“Princess?”

“Yeah, the skirt and all the pink- very princessy,” He gestured to your outfit before pulling out… a burner phone.

You really should not have drank that much, because you don’t even care to question it as you’re typing you digits in.

note: ffs i didn’t make izuku’s gf feisty enough 😞

1K notes · View notes

saiidahyunie · 21 days

Text

love foolish

minatozaki sana x f!reader

sum: doing sana’s laundry is a good deed while she’s out working, but you had better ideas for her when she gets home.

cw: smut ; degrading ; cursing ; praise

a/n: i wasn't there when we first saw sana in that baseball jersey years ago, but i'm glad as hell that i was for the second time she wore it again.

sana’s apartment greets you in a hollowed darkness once you insert the key past the knob that you picked up from the mailbox next to the door. intrusive or invading weren’t the right terms to describe your actions, but here you were strolling in sana’s shared space with you anyway.

besides, you preferred her spacious queen bed over the shitty mattress you morphed around back at your dorm. it also occurred that the notion of moving in with her wasn’t brought up to this point, but your clothes and toothbrush already made their home here, so might as well.

when your bags and shoes hit the hardwood floor, steering your way to the couch, you sent her a quick text to let her know that you were waiting for her to get out of work and her batting practice, to which she responds with a simple voice memo of her lovely voice followed by a string of hearts.

you could say that you’re spoiled for sana. she works at what she does on the campus and her job, but her sport side of softball. the scheduling was a challenge to work around, but you and her made it work. it’s a fair trade of cooking, making sure you and her are getting the right amount of love and care, and the biggest plus was that she communicates her feelings with no lie, all truth.

sana gives everything to her endeavors, so the least you can do to help support her is by keeping her home clean, make the delicious food that you know that makes her hum like a little kid, and deal with the laundry.

a quick glance over to her bean bag was a pile of clothes that had a half full basket sitting next to it. her coffee table had one of many hydroflasks, because she tends to forget one or the other if she’s in a rush. not to your surprise, you smile at the thought of her leaving her bright purple one before she left for work earlier today.

the sweet aroma of the apartment was filled with sana's soap and fabric softener, the mix of daisies and lavender filling your nose when you plop down onto the couch. it’s only by instinct - or muscle memory for that matter when you pick up the clothes one at a time to fold them. sana had a set system of organizing which clothes go to which: sweets and pants were the first, then shorts for around the house, the assortment of underwear (panties specifically because you know well that sana doesn’t like to wear bras), shirts, hoodies, the more fancier choices of dress shirts and dress alike, and lastly, her softball jerseys.

sana has a few jerseys for the collegiate team that she plays with, but she also has a few from soccer and basketball teams as well. once finished with folding, you took the different stacks into the bedroom, filing them neatly into the drawers of her dresser. when you got to the jerseys, one slips from your hand and drops to the floor.

dealing with the drawers by closing them, you pick up the unfolded one on the floor, staring at her name printed in big bolded letters. your eyes started to drift around the design of the stripes of red and black, gliding over to the full length mirror that was next to his door, looking at your reflection through the sunlight.

with the formulation of some thoughts, you rub your legs together while trapping your bottom lip with the upper row of your teeth.

this was an easy decision, one that you didn’t have to think twice about when you stripped yourself from your clothes, completely naked with your erect nipples bursting through the fabric’s appearance.

grabbing your phone from the dresser, you start by sitting on the far corner of her bed, snapping a few photos with the unbuttoned jersey covering your boobs. then, you sat down on the floor to take a couple more pictures, spreading your legs wide enough to expose your cunt and parting both sides of the jersey to show your boobs. you then turn around, putting your feet together as a cushion for your ass, snapping a few more clicks while the jersey wrapped around your small figure.

sana’s gonna have so much fun when she loses her shit over these.

—

while that was happening, sana was at her desk, leaning back on her chair once she submitted the last files to jihyo to help prepare for the school’s cultural festival showcase. she then peeks over to the space next to her seeing that nayeon and momo were playing a game of sticks in which momo loses out of frustration, rubbing her head with her hands while nayeon laughed.

days like these tend to go by fast, though sana can’t help but yawn after doing less than what she was working with a few days ago. not a single thing from today was productive enough to keep herself occupied. within the last hour, she’s watched her softball game highlights for probably the fourth time today, about to be the fifth if jihyo doesn’t get back to her soon.

a quick glance of the clock on her monitor only shows that she has a little bit over an hour and a half before she could go to get some batting in and then come home to you. had you been busy, sana would’ve tossed herself out the third floor window just to make today entertaining.

manifestation works in so many weird ways, and by the grace of timing, sana couldn’t keep the smile of your name coming up on her phone.

you: i’m at the apartment! i also did the laundry for you :)

sana: you’re the best beb <3 i was actually gonna take care of the laundry myself when i get back

you: i did a little bit more than that

sana: huh

you: (attachment: 12 images)

sana actually almost fell back when the photos popped up in her texts. her mouth was open at the sight of that first picture before she looked up to see if anyone had seen her act like this. you’re good with antics, almost on par with how sana acts from time to time, but you could never beat her in a competition like this.

on the other end, you smirk after noticing that sana had read the message, imagining how sana would be shaking her head to hide her panic. leaning back against bed and spreading your legs even further apart, you let your hand slide down to your folds, teasing your lips at the thought of sana losing her mind leaving you dripping.

sana tried her best to keep her mind straight, gripping her hand along her thigh to the point where her veins were popping out. she can’t stop imagining bending you over this desk in front of her, or riding her thigh in that damn jersey is filling up her brain.

she’s pissed, and now that she’s fueled by this, sana leans forward to put on her heels, standing up soon after to walk over to the room next door, “if jihyo asks me where i went, tell her i had to take five.” she tells momo and nayeon, both nodding in unison before getting back to their game of rock, paper, scissors.

stomping to the bathroom, sana gets into the nearest unoccupied stall, closing it and undoing her tie that’s under the vest, unbuttoning her dress shirt from the collar and then her pants. sana then reaches for her phone with the free hand, while the other was occupied in between her legs.

sana: you’re fucking crazy if you’re gonna send pics while i’m at work.

you: i already know that you’re saving them, aren’t you?

sana: baby, i’m the only one who gets to see you that way. nobody else.

you: uh oh

you: (attachment: 2 videos)

sana clicks on the video, seeing your fingers spreading your folds apart, glistening against the glow from the windows that beammed inside to give better lighting.

sana was seething, already having you on speed dial while pressing the phone between her ear and shoulder, the call going to voicemail on the first attempt. “this bitch is a whore,” she grumbles out before redialing, and you don’t hesitate to answer the second time.

“hi babe,” you say with a shaky voice.

“drop it,” sana growled, her hand palming her pussy over her underwear at your voice, “you really thought it’d be a good idea to send me fucking nudes while i’m working?”

it was so easy to tell how wet and needy sana was to fuck you up. the way that her voice sounded, you could already assume that she’s trying to deal with the problem as well. so you kept circling your fingers over your clit while your cunt reflexively clenched around the air, “sounds like you’re enjoying it, aren’t you sha?”

sana lowers her panties just a bit, licking her three fingers before rubbing her clit slightly, “so slutty, making me want to do something about it.”

her ear hears the sound of you softly moaning over her harsh words, slipping a finger inside yourself while the moans make their way to sana’s ears again.

“are you touching yourself? you better not be y/n, i swear to god.” she snaps, rubbing herself faster. sana became so angry and horny to the point that she may be skipping some lines in the script. she wanted nothing else but to be her fingers rubbing your clit, sliding, and pounding them in and out of your fuck hole.

“what are you gonna do about it, then?” you sigh, letting an inch of your finger inside yourself again.

“don’t, stop, just—” sana’s tripping up over her demands, “just stop trying to do any of that as punishment for sending me pics while i’m working.”

sana couldn’t help to admit that this was actually hot. even when your bratty behavior was gonna send her up the fucking wall in more than five ways. “i’m warning you, keep that shit up and you’ll see what happens.”

“and what then?” you asked again, licking your lips while smiling.

“you bitch, i swear–”

you cut her off by pushing two fingers into your cunt, gasping.

“are you fucking touching yourself again? you better not be.” sana asks again, growling.

all you did was giggle, then hang up afterwards.

now you pissed sana off.

sana slides her hand out of her panties, fingers moving at hyperspeed in a fit, spamming you with messages about the bratty behavior you just displayed, but stopped to see another photo and video that you sent to her.

the photo first made her fist and jaw clench. her softball jersey was now pulled up over your boobs, nipples out in full while your legs were spread wider, nearly splitting, with your second and third fingers all the way into your pussy.

a brat is what you are.

when sana swipes for the video, it’s so much worse. the sound of you mewling loudly as you rubbed your clit in a clockwise motion, letting them slowly dip between your legs, soaking up the juices seeping out, you were lathering yourself up while some of the remnants dripped over onto the bed sheets and staining them.

sana had cleaned her bed just yesterday, you really were a fucking brat.

after that, sana inserted her fingers into her mouth to get them more slicked, rubbing up her cunt at a faster pace from the thought of your video, her head drops back against the stall, biting down on her collar while texting you with her left hand.

sana: you’re fucking done for

you: oh?

sana: you heard me.

you: what are you gonna do?

sana: you’ll see

sana: keep doing that to yourself and watch what happens.

tossing the phone away, you smiled at the successful task of getting sana aggressively ready, slipping on your white panties back up your legs from the floor.

sana stops herself before she could let the desires get to her head, the relief of cumming won’t be the solution. she swipes through the photos and the couple videos you sent her, watching over and over of how slicked you were. she could stay here for a few more minutes and take care of her problem, but she already was ahead with what’s coming later. so, she made the picture of you with her jersey name on the back as her wallpaper, cropped up to the half where it didn’t expose your ass before getting out of the bathroom.

she still had a way to go though, work wasn’t done yet and sana still had to hit the batting cages. the workday was already going to be productive after hours, but sana had to practice her patience. little did you realize that sana felt like she lost. the fact that you didn’t listen to her? making her more horny? as a matter of fact, you made her so mad while being bratty when she’s busy? once sana has you in her sights, it’s game over. she may have been gentle with you before, but the fire that’s spread was too much to handle.

—

the small crackle of the pan for tonight’s dinner filled up the kitchen while you scoured the cupboards for a few more ingredients to put in the spaghetti and meatballs. you looked over at the analog clock at the corner learning into the living room to see that sana had probably got off to practice, keeping in mind of the delicious meal that she’ll eat when she gets back.

well, that would be the case–

if sana hadn’t skipped her batting session with the team.

she carefully made her way inside, ensuring that no sound was heard from the doorknob or her shoe when she slipped them off. quietly, almost like a serial killer about to finish the job, she creeps her way to the counter to see that your back was turned facing her.

sana made her way to the bedroom. thankfully, the door was open and it only took her a few seconds to slip out of her pants, keeping on her dress shirt with her tie and leaving her lower regions only covered by her underwear. tip-toeing back out towards the kitchen, she could hear you softly hum to the song that was playing from your phone, her eyes caught with the small shake from your hips.

you were lightly head bopping, not giving a care for any outside interruptions. just simply cooking in the most domestic way possible, it was cute.

sana showered you with love. the sight of you doing everything in all the right checkmarks made her forgive you for a slight second. she could just walk up and act like nothing happened, let you off just this once with what you did, but the white panties and one of sana’s oversized shirts pulled her back to reality, and sana bit her lip with what was going to happen.

a small clink of the empty plate hitting granite was soft until you felt a pair of hands touch you from behind. the right hand slithering to your neck while the left hand was caressing your ass. you lean your head back to feel sana’s perfect nose against the side of your face.

your breath stops for a second when sana plants a kiss to the spot behind your ear, her right hand now caressing the other cheek of your ass, fingertips fiddling with the fabric that’s holding your hole captive from sana. she flips you over to the small kitchen island across you two, body against the cold surface when you feel her chest flush with your back, her hot breath in your ear again, “trying to be the good girl by cooking up dinner?”

sana grins against your face when she hears you let out a whine, “sa, why are you back so–”

“skipped the batting session, need some other things to pitch after work.”

her pitch being the punishment that she promised to give you. the slick that was leaking out of you stained your panties, the beat of your heart rapidly increasing while your mind was trying to think of the different combinations of what sana was going to do to you. you also felt her bare leg against your thigh, and she still had her dress shirt and tie, unbuttoned and everything.

sana lets her hand trail down your back, her right hand caressing your ass before looping around to skate your clit with the lightest touch. she clicks her tongue when she feels the first hints of wetness soak her fingertips. to be fair, you got yourself fucking soaked. building up to this was already skipped, and sana was furious.

“what did i say about touching yourself?” she growled, biting lightly down on your neck that made you moan more loudly, “you could’ve had the easy way out if you listened to me.”

it could’ve been so easy, but that wasn’t your style. backing up your ass against her, she shoots her hands to your hips, “don’t do that. you don’t get to fucking move.”

all you had to do was obey, keeping your body to the best of your ability, resisting the urge to rub your thighs together in anticipation for what’s about to happen. sana slides down from your body, eyes drifting to your white lace panties, seeing the damp spot at the center, all for her.

slipping out of your panties was too much of a hassle, even if it was for only a few seconds. she didn’t want to have fun taking her time, tearing away the garment that fills the sound of the kitchen.

“sana!” you exclaimed, trying to get off of the counter, only to feel sana’s large hand right on the part below your neck, pressing your cheek onto the glossy surface again, “those were my favorite pair!”

“too bad, don’t care,” sana coos, rubbing her thumb in circles on one of the balls of your spine, as her other pairs of fingers slid down to your cunt, “that’s what happens when you act like a little bitch while i was gone. i told you not to move, that’s strike two now.”

“f-fuck,” you groan out barely while sana finally gets to work. she circled her fingers fastly over your clit, taking everything in your body to not moan out due to the stimulation. sana liked it when she hears you cry for her, but take that away and you’re doubling down on acting like a brat.

sana also doubled down, she was already aware that you’d probably hold yourself back those lovely sounds she wanted to hear all for getting back at her. it’s unlucky that she knows how your body is in every way, how to get you running, the way her hands and mouth have you chanting at the top of your lungs, begging her to stop for the whole floor to hear.

she slides her hand up your back, wrapping it in your hair before yanking back, pulling you up that made you yelp out in pain, chuckling at the response. “you wanna be like a brat for me, huh? this is all your doing by the way.”

the demeanor starts to lose its effect while sana’s long fingers continue to pepper your clit, mouth filled with all the worse things about how much of a slut you were, a whore, how stupid it was for you to act the way that you did with her today.

“sa,” you whine again, body tensing as sana removed her fingers away from your pussy, the climax swiped away from you. second nature for you, moving your own fingers down to the heat to get yourself off, only for sana to grab your hand away, shoving you back onto the countertop, arms behind your back while you struggled for breath.

“no,” she groaned, moving your hips up more so that your feet are dangling from the hardwood floor. “dumb bitches don’t deserve to cum, not when they don’t listen the first time.”

you struggle, trying to set yourself free against the surface, “sa, please. i’m sorry.”

sana smiles, that devilish one tugging the corners of her lips while her upper and bottom ones just stay still. she finally got to you.

“yeah?” she whispers again, taking her fingers and lining them up to your cunt, “what was that? you’re sorry now?”

nodding, hand clutching to her free wrist. you wanted her big hands to be inside you so bad that you’d be willing to beg for it, apologize for your sins if it meant that you get what you wanted.

sana lets her fingertips in slowly, “i can’t hear you, slut. are you sorry?”

“yes, i’m sorry.” panting, breath shackled under the pressure of sana’s hand on your back. “please, i’m sorry for being a fucking brat.”

you only hear a hum, she’s pondering if your apology was good enough for you to be let off the hook, “i’ll take it, but you’ll still get this treatment for today.” she says, sliding her fingers all the way in, curling just at the first knuckle past the fingernails. this causes you to stutter a string of ‘yeses’ from the feeling of her filling your sorry cunt up.

sana then slides your hips a bit back so that she can wrap her other hand over to your clit, both hands and fingers working simultaneously as the pressure slowly starts to build up right off the bat. you’re letting out louder moans, saliva slipping out trying to get the hair out of your mouth.

“can’t hear you baby,” sana groans, biting her lip. “open up that pretty mouth of yours.”

this only makes you moan even louder, your walls clenching around her two fingers, and she ramps up the pace. you feel the same coil in your stomach building up, sputtering words that were saying that you were close, and sana stops her movements suddenly.

you let your knees hit the cabinets below you, breathing uncontrollably and sana just laughs, “i told you. dumb sluts don’t get to cum.” and your eyes meet hers, dark contrasting with light, sana over you, like it was meant to be.

she continued to edge you, hands moving at the same pace that got you up to your high, reminding you over and over that this was what happens when you fuck around and find out. that release you fantasized about while leaking over her bed sheets being taken away that you wanted so much.

you could feel tears coming out from your eyes, meeting hers again to only see that she’s blown out, lust filled to the brim. sana was losing her mind over you, those pretty eyes that could leave you flustered in any normal scenario, sobs and tears from your face making her grin more at you.

“okay, i think you deserve it.” sana says with a whisper, kissing the small of your back. “cum for me sweetie, cum all over my fingers.”

sana loved teasing and edging you to no avail, the control was thrilling for her. she basked in the sight of ruining you to nothing but mush.

“fuck, yes baby,” sana moans out when you finally clench around her fingers, moving her other fingers on your clit with no shortage of slowing down. she could feel the click seeping out to her fingers, sliding them out to see them soaked in your arousal, licking them clean before she rubs your hips to soothe the ache slightly.

then she flips you over.

hands darting for the underside of your knees, lifting them up above her head before you felt the flat of her tongue get that first lick of your cunt, bucking your hips at the sudden contact and a yelp from your lips. sana groans against your core, fingers pressing hard into your skin enough to leave a noticeable bruise for you to assess later.

you try to prop yourself up while sana’s tongue lashes your puffy folds and leaking walls, her hand were quick to your waist, pressing you down while your hand rakes up her hair, pulling away to bite the inside of your thigh.

“fuck, sana–”

“shh,” she starts, “i’m gonna fuck this attitude out of you now, scream all you want.”

before you could respond, sana’s mouth is back on your lips, hands gripping the divot where your legs and hips meet, tongue moving all the ways that has you complaining for more. it’s even worse when the pace comes back in the form of her fingers, three fingers in fact, stretching you open that has you quivering the bottom row of your teeth.

“baby, baby baby baby, right there, shit–please don’t, fuck!” you whine again, the moans watering down your words when sana’s twisting your insides for her own benefit. sana herself was losing her mind, drunk on the very gift of your sweet nectar that could give her a lifetime to live, eyes up to you with your head leaned back, one hand over your breast clutching the jersey over it.

“please please please–”

sana was so drunk in love with you.

she lowers your legs, wrapping them around her head to close her in. you’re sitting up now, mouth hanging low still as she’s doing everything to make you cum, this might also be enough for her to cum along with you as well. “you’re close, baby?”

“sa, please–yes yes.” you answer, hand curtaining her hair when a foot slips over and hits her in the back on accident. she keeps herself going, fucking you where you’re holding the counter to the point your knuckles turn white. the plate that’s off to the side is shoved off the top, expression frozen when a crash is heard on the floor below. she’s groaning as well, very turned on at the fact that you cum all over her tongue, savoring the second climax when you’re shrieking, shaking, faltering back flat on the counter while sana makes sure to get every last drop.

pulling away with an audible smack, sana pants, running her hands on the side of your waist and hips, softly planting kisses around your swollen lips and cunt, then to your thighs. “fuck…” she then slides her fingers up your lips again, the lingering slick soaking them again, bringing it up to your mouth, sucking and licking your own taste off her. “you look so good like this, love.”

you mouth a ‘thank you’ with a lazy smile.

sana is then quick to tend to your care, swooping you up for a hug, kissing your face before landing on your lips for a longer, dragged out smooch. just when you think you’re done, sana’s eyes are glazed, smiling between your lips for another kiss before landing them around your jaw and collarbone. “you’ve got something to pick up while i get started with eating, okay?”

“sana…” is all you say, and again, she just giggles at you. once she removed herself against you, taking off the tie around her unbuttoned dress shirt and wrapping it around your neck. after she did that, she walked over to the stove to grab a plate, your eyes studying the form of her arms with those rolled up sleeves, the hint of veins on her creamy skin, the straight but still ruffled hair she flips over to the side. it’s dangerously sexy, and you’d fall for it every single time.

“oh, y/n lovely,” sana calls over, humming in response, watching as she unbuttones more of her shirt, exposing her matching set of her black bra and panties when she turns to you, “make sure you don’t lock your jaw now. you’re gonna eat me out while i eat, or after.”

you close your legs to soothe that lingering ache you’ll be asking for again, biting your lip when you see the sway of her hips when she walks over to the dining table.

keeping a note that being a brat to sana might be a good idea to do whenever she’s not home.

#twice imagines #kpop imagines #sana #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice sana #sana twice #gg smut #kpop smut #minatozaki sana x reader

415 notes · View notes

msbigredmachine · 2 months

Text

Black Sweatpants (Roman Reigns)

Why did the Tribal Chief arrive late to the Pat McAfee Show? Based on Roman's appearance on March 22 2024. Pat was forced to cut a promo on the fly because Roman took too long to come out 😂

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Smut

-------------

You knew he would get out there late, and you accepted full responsibility. But given the way you were getting dicked down right now, it was totally worth it.

Your blood-red lace thong dangled from your right ankle as Roman jackhammered into you, his thick shaft stuffed inside your tender walls. Biting down on your bottom lip, you wrapped your arms tight around the big man, long-awaited pleasure coursing down your spine all the way to your pastel-colored toes as he pounded you out in the corner of the spacious locker room.

"Oh, ohhh fuck," you couldn't help but cry out at one particularly deep thrust.

"Keep it down before someone comes in here," he growled. Hunched over you, the wicked gleam in his eyes watching you struggle to suppress your moans, told you he was relishing every second of your agony.

"I'm trying, you ain't helping," you whined back.

"Not hard enough," he countered, nudging your legs wider and making you watch his dick disappear inside your wetness. He slapped your hand away when you placed it on his abs to push him back because he was getting too deep. "Naw, you wanted this dick all day, you better take it now..."

When you ordered the new all-black hoodie and joggers set from Nike for Roman, you knew he would look good in it. However, when he returned for his scheduled private flight to Iowa for Pat McAfee's show wearing it, you didn't expect him to look that good. And you certainly did not expect his dick print to be on display like that. You had endured three tortuous weeks of no sex because he'd been away spending time with his two kids he shared with his ex-wife. So you were excited to have him back, and judging from that not-so-little bulge between his legs, he was excited to see you too. You could all but see it, that long, thick brown cock that time and again wreaked the unholiest of havoc in you, protruding against the cotton material and calling for your attention. But the man had the gall to play hard to get, deliberately spurning your advances, acting all platonic and professional, like the rest of his team didn't already know you were lovers. Never one to back down, you ramped up your actions, rubbing his inner thigh throughout the flight and on the ride to Field House, brushing your body against him every chance you got, teasing him right back, trying to get him to crack. As soon as he ordered everyone out of his locker room just minutes after arriving, you knew you succeeded.

Roman planted wet kisses along the side of your neck, the soft prickles of his thick beard unleashing another flood between your legs. His hulking body stretched over yours, his sweatpants rolled down to just underneath the curve of his ass cheeks for the purpose of this quickie. He was so hard inside you, demanding your pleasure as he impaled you with no mercy, his tempo hot and frenetic from the very start. His big hand slipped from your breast downwards to twirl his fingertips around your clit, your throaty whines music to his ears as your sweet moisture pooled around his fingers. The squelching noise pierced the air that was already thickened by your heavy breaths and his hips smacking into yours.

"Mmm, wet as fuck, just the way I like it," Roman grunted, leaning down to suckle on your left nipple, his saliva smearing the puckered skin when he released it with a wet pop, "I can tell you was goin' crazy without this dick, right, baby?"

"Yes, and yet your punk ass still ignored me all day, too fuckin' busy making your damn TikTok videos," you griped.

"Quit your whining, Daddy always gives you what you want in the end. Unh, how you feel so good all the time? I love it," he moaned, his brown irises rolling back briefly before they landed on yours again in an intense stare. Through the lustful haze of passion, you felt your heart thumping rapidly inside your chest as you looked into his eyes. It didn't matter if you were having sex or not; it always sped up in his mere presence.

You fell in love with him not long after you became his personal assistant a year and a half ago. You worked hard to please him, on the job and off it, and he showed you his gratitude in a plethora of ways, carnal and otherwise. You were a walking cliché, but you couldn't care less, not when it bagged you a man like that. The sex appeal oozed from his pores. He was confident and self-assured and had worked his ass off to get to where he was today. He got along with all of his team, was a decent and fair employer, and was generous to a fault, showering his staff with presents on birthdays and Christmases. The diamond pendant he gifted you for Valentine's Day currently hid between your cleavage he was kneading with his big hands. He was everything you could ask for in a boss and a boyfriend, which was honestly an impressive feat.

You placed one hand behind his neck and tugged him down to flick your tongue inside his warm mouth. His thrusts remained indulgent as you kissed hungrily, branding you, marking you, wiping out everything from your mind except the euphoric feeling that engulfed you every time he kissed and fucked you dumb. He pushed your dress further up your waist and gathered your supple ass cheek in his competent hand, lifting you right up against him. He was all up in your stomach and your walls suckled his cock greedily, holding him in a vice-like grip. The gruff yet sensual sounds pouring from him teased your core, making you need more of it, more of him.

"Awww, shit, yes," Your eyes fluttered shut when he began to wind his hips, circling clockwise and then in reverse, the head of his cock churning your sweet spot, his triumphant growl accompanying every thrust. In and out, in and out, the erotic loop punctuated by the low, husky groans of your Tribal Chief, causing your head to rock back from blinding bliss. "Ooooh baby, baby right there, ahh," you whimpered.

"Uh huh, I'm deep in that shit. Got this pussy feelin' good, huh?" Roman said, his haughty taunts disappearing in another moan as your pussy rippled around his dick over and over. He kept up his grinding strokes which seemed to intensify the throatier and more desperate your moans grew, as though the mere sound of them fueled his ruthlessness. His paw curled around your throat, his display of dominance leaving you a sopping, dripping mess as he made you take every inch of him. You were dizzy, on the verge of falling apart, and your body burned for release, yet all you could do was hold on while this man continued to destroy you, rendering you helpless and pathetic and under his heady spell.

"I'm gonna come, Daddy," you gasped. Your fingernails clawed at his forearm holding your neck, moaning his name as he fucked you harder, making sure there was no way you would last long with the kind of pounding he was giving you right now.

"Mmm-hmm, come on my dick, give it to me," he ordered, barely hanging on himself. He groaned as your pussy walls held his cock hostage, making him swell inside you as his climax beckoned. "Fuck, babe, ahhh, fuck..."

Burying your face in his broad chest, you barely kept your scream muffled as your orgasm tore through you, your body arching, legs trembling around his waist as you came hard. Time and space and coherence blurred into one sensual puddle. His heavy weight almost smothered you as he chased his own orgasm, his eyes glazing over in a telltale sign that he was right there with you. His hips jerked as his dick began to throb and twitch inside you, and you gasped at the feel of his seed spilling inside your walls, his big body shivering from the force of his release, his deep voice exhaling guttural moans as he succumbed to you. It felt so good, feeling him fall with you, toppling over the precipice of pleasure together.

After he finally caught his breath, Roman shifted back a bit to observe you, taking in your face, flushed with satisfaction, your lips plumped and ravaged by his own. You looked damn beautiful, and he showed you by brushing your mouths together in the gentlest, sweetest kisses.

"Happy now?" he smirked.

You grinned from ear to ear. "Very happy, Daddy. I've missed you. Love you so much."

"I love you too, baby," he replied with one last soft kiss, both of you moaning as his drained dick slipped out of your warm confines. You dragged yourself to a seated position when he climbed off you and hurriedly tugged his pants back up. Adjusting your dress, you checked your watch and sighed. "Great, you're two minutes behind schedule. You're not even mic'd up yet," you said, fishing out Roman's bottle of Jean-Paul Gaultier cologne from his backpack and giving the room a few quick spritzes to stifle the cloying scent of your latest sexscapade.

"Well, Pat's gonna have to wait," he answered flippantly as he raked his hair back into its trademark bun. He watched you reach for your underwear that had tangled around your foot and beat you to the punch, snatching up the tiny scrap of lingerie and tucking it into his back pocket.

"Roman!" you exclaimed.

"What? It's mine now," he declared, grabbing his gold championship belt and standing to his full height. You bit your lip as you drank him in, your gaze stopping between his sturdy thighs. You just had sex but you found yourself getting aroused again.

"Your dick print is still showing," you pointed out, licking your lips reflexively.

"Course it is, I got that thang on me," he bragged, smoothing his big hand over his groin, his body tingling from the memory of your delicious warmth. Noticing the heat in your eyes, he smiled that suggestive half-smile of his and tapped your backside. "Down, baby girl, Daddy's gotta go to work. You can have me all you want after TV tonight."

As you followed him out of the locker room and stepped into the cold sunshine, you caught the slightly pronounced limp in your man's walk, his glowing, kiss-swollen features, the extra width in his smile, and beamed with pride.

Yeah, I did that shit.

THE END

--------------

Another short one. Thoughts?

I have a few more Roman ones I'm working on and hope to get out soon.

Thank you all so much for reading!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

TAGGING: @jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @shonny09 @lizzyd1ish @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya @mzv11 @kia1996 @randomuser0711 @yourtribalqueen @caramelcleopatraa @katymae12344 @that-one-anxious-mango @yana3sworld @ajenae @truefant4sy @thetribalqueen @bhjszsdxc

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x black reader #the bloodline #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x black oc

528 notes · View notes

teamatsumu · 3 months

Text

screenshot. (kita shinsuke x reader)

summary: your friend confesses on your behalf. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.

word count: 1161

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead d @priv-rose @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @whippedbel

event masterlist

Many of Kita’s friends and volleyball teammates think he is a stickler for routine. And they are right. But Kita isn’t rigid. He isn’t unchangeable. He accepts a break in routine, takes it in stride, learns from the turning tides and comes back with a smile on his face. Why else would he be the captain of the volleyball team if he didn’t know how to assimilate with rapidly developing circumstances?

Today, he is confronted with another such change. He is staring it right in the face. For a few moments, Kita cannot fathom the sight. How can it be? A red envelope in his locker? Surely, it must not be meant for him.

His next thought is how it got there in the first place. No one besides the volleyball team is allowed in the club room. He is the one who always opens it and he is also the one who locks up every night. Did someone sneak in during practice time?

Nothing else in his locker seems out of place. Just the letter placed delicately on top of the rest of his belongings. Kita finally reaches out for it, tugging on the flap to detach it and pulling out the crisp white paper inside. Kita is halted in his tracks when he realizes that there is no writing on the paper. It’s a print-out. Of a screenshot.

He eyes the text message chain, recognising the small icons on both the sender and receiver’s text bubbles. It’s Suna, his underclassman, and he also recognises you, the manager and his long time best friend.

‘I can’t stand it anymore suna!’

‘then just tell him’

‘u know i cant’

‘thats a u problem’

The next message is long, bordering on a whole paragraph, and Kita’s eyes skim over it. For the first time in a long while, his heart skips.

‘ive known him forever rin. hes such an amazing person and my best friend but he doesn like me that way. if i tell him im just gonna lose him as a friend and id rather we be friends than nothing at all’

The punctuation is atrocious, and the grammar is slightly questionable, but Kita smiles regardless. He carefully folds the paper again, placing it inside the envelope. He closes his locker and continues his evening routine of cleaning up and locking the club room.

Over the next hour as Kita cleans, his thoughts mull over the letter he had just received. The menial nature of the tasks relaxes him, gives him time to mull over this new information. Kita realizes that maybe he isn’t as perceptive as previously thought by his friends.

How can he have not seen that look in your eyes before? Softer than anything and directed only at him, now that he thinks about it. He ponders over your words, the insecurity and negativity behind them. He has never known you to be a negative person. You are endlessly optimistic and full of energy. You are so bright that Kita loves basking in it. He has known you for a very long time, and he is almost affronted that your budding romantic feelings were hidden from him for so long. Especially when Kita has made his courting intentions for you fairly clear.

He has not directly said anything. But he doesn’t think he was ever being discreet. But maybe he has been wrong in his approach. Maybe you hooking your arm with his when you walked to school in the morning, sharing lunches every day, permanently stealing a few of his choice hoodies were all friendly gestures on your part. While Kita has interpreted the gestures as romantic, it seems you have not felt the same heat behind those actions.

Kita has always walked the same route home, sometimes with Aran, sometimes with you, and sometimes on his own. Today he takes the walk alone, but he is not bothered. He has purpose in his mind, the red envelope in his hand, and his feet carry him all the way through the winding streets until he stops at your doorstep.

He smiles at the surprise in your eyes when you receive him at the door. He nearly coos at the fuzzy slippers on your feet, huge and with bunny ears on them, making your feet look twice their usual size. You are so cute. Kita scolds himself lightly, regretting that he had wasted so much time as your friend when maybe he could have spent it with you as his romantic partner. His girlfriend.

It has a nice ring to it, Kita decides.

“Shinsuke?” Your voice breaks his train of thought. The ‘what are you doing here’ is clear in your voice. Your eyes are wide and your face is questioning. There is a tinge of worry on your face, and Kita realizes that showing up unannounced may not have been the best idea. He isn’t sure what is going on in your head, but he quickly tries to quash your worries.

“Everything is fine.” Clear, direct, to the point. It’s Kita being Kita. “I’m here about something I found in my locker while closing up.”

He holds up the red envelope, and when you stare at it in confusion, he proceeds to open it and pull out the white paper. You take it when he offers it to you, unfolding it and reading the letter. If you can call it that.

Kita watches the color drain from your face, notices how the panic overtakes your features as you recognise the conversation printed in front of you. He feels his shoulders slump a little, lamenting the fact that you are truly scared about him finding out. What do you think he will do? Has Kita truly not made his intentions for you clear enough? He cannot help but self loathe in that moment, seeing the state you were in now.

“Shin-”

He doesn’t let you finish.

“If you will allow it, I would like to take you out for dinner this weekend. Will you be free on Saturday?”

You blink once, twice. Your mouth opens and closes. Kita is acutely reminded of a fish. He tries to tamp down his smile.

“R-really?”

He merely nods.

Slowly, life reinjects into your face. You seem to age in reverse before his very eyes. Your grip on the letter crinkles the paper slightly, and Kita reaches out to gently pry it from your hands and smooth it out. He stays quiet as you process his words. He thinks of hugging you, maybe even kissing you. But stops himself. Those are moments he will reserve for after your first date, after he has properly given you the best date of your dreams. So he keeps his eyes on the letter.

“Remind me to thank Suna for this letter.” He comments. “I must say, it’s the strangest confession letter I have ever received.”

There is a pause.

“You’ve received other confession letters?!”

#kita shinsuke #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke x you #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita shinsuke fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

827 notes · View notes

mystellenia · 2 months

Text

giving ellie a hoodie full of kisses ୨ৎ

summary: you paint a hoodie with kisses for ellie, and the gesture flusters her.

content: nothing much, just ellie being shy

notes: answer to this req!! i'm trying a new format of posts. sometimes i see people do not quite hcs but also not quite a normal, paragraph-formatted fic. its this in between of bullet points????? idk lemme know if yall like it

(wc 0.6 k)

after spending an hour on painting your lips and pressing them to the cloth of the hoodie you'd gotten for ellie, you sat back and examined your work

you had to admit: the hoodie looked beautiful. but! you did not!!!! your lips were stained red from the paint, your back hurt from hunching over to kiss the hoodie, and you'd probably ingested about an ounce of red40!!! (i know red 40 is in food but let me be silly)

after washing the paint that had gotten on your skin off in the sink, you ironed the sweatshirt to seal the paint in (don't ask me how that works bc idk i just saw it on tiktok like 10 mins ago)

and now we wait for ellie to come home!!

when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them. one day she's gonna take a step and they're gonna turn into a cloud of dust i swear

anyway you're sitting on the couch with your phone in your lap, the painted sweatshirt folded into a square with the kisses hidden inside. she walks towards you and gives you a lil kissy kiss on the forehead like hiiii

you get all smiley because you're excited for her to see the sweatshirt and she gets all suspish.... like what's so funny....

sooooooo.... you tell her you made her something and unfold the hoodie and hold it up to your body so she can see the full thing. and she would soooo get all beet red, like, "...you made this for me?"

and you're like "yes of course do you like it queen" then she gets over the like flusteredness (????(actually i revoke my ???? bc i just made that a word)) and gets so happi like yayyy!!!!

then she looks all confused at your lips and is like "is that why your lips look so severely chapped and red?"

and you get mad so you take away kiss privileges so she does the only reasonable thing which is putting you in a headlock to force kiss you

would definitely immediately put it on and go look in the mirror at her with it on. she'll start geeking and thank you and all that jazz

she would wear that shit 24/7. sleeping working showering shitting ANYWHERE best believe she has that hoodie on. and you tell her its been like 2 weeks of her wearing it nonstop so she needs to wash it but she refuses bc she doesn't want the kisses to start fading. u wash it anyway bc its dirty and she cold shoulders you for about 30 mins before she sees some dumb reel she just has to show you (me fr).

i feel like she's a hot sleeper--like she gets too hot at night to wear the hoodie but she still wants it so she'll just hold it as a baby blanket of sorts and Whatnot.

wait very unrelated but does anyone have a baby blanket that they've had for so long its like basically just threads thats so funny

but overall she loves it. she likes to kiss the kiss prints you made on the sweatshirt bc it's "like kissing you."

there was one time she couldn't find it for like 2 days (because you'd washed it since she never does) and she tried to act all nonchalant and unaffected like she wasn't about to start tweaking and like twitching

then you gave it to her all calm because it was literally just in the wash and she was like "what😨😨😨 where did you find it😨😨😨" and you just tell her it was in the wash and shes like "oh that makes sense"

pls im so sorry. before i say anything i would like to formally apologize to the anon who submitted the ask for this bc this is so shit. you ask me for a product and this is how i repay you!! shame on me. please dilly dally on over to my asks and ask me something else so i can actually, i don't know, do a good job!! this ask was cute tho u ate with that

@picklesarenice69

wow i very strongly dislike this format so much this is the first and last time i will be doing this!!! i’m only posting this bc its been like a week since i last posted and the citizens will soon revolt, which the city's defenses cannot afford!! we're about to run out of wheat like times are getting tough. maybe i should just try just headcanons 🤔

can you tell i was fighting demons to not make this my normal vocab and format. like just look at this sentence and how it progresses: "when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them." the way that sentence progresses is just the silly demons taking over and also my coping mechanism for grimacing at how much i didnt mesh with this format

like i just couldnt take myself seriously. "yes of course do you like it queen" HELLO??? WHY DID I TYPE THAT but i will not be fixing and/or deleting it bc its making me giggle

dont get me wrong some of you ladies chew it up but i am made for unreasonably long and time consuming fics!!! i’m getting heated too bc not only is this so short and quick to do but it also takes less focus and brain power and ofc i had to make things hard for myself and hate it!!! i’m soooooooooooo silly

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

---

edit: wait i would like to clarify that i just hate this because perhaps i’m not used to it. if you guys like this maybe i'll do more bc i follow the clout always 💯

639 notes · View notes

iplayghoul · 10 months

Text

𝗹𝗲𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁. 𝗼𝗻𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗼𝗽𝗼𝗻

warnings: mentions of weed, reader is a dealer, black coded reader, strangers hooking up 🤭, squirtinggg, i like the word cock, sum dick in there too. pussy is refered to as a 'she', use of 'ma' and 'mama', p in v, thumb in ass shit, oral (f & m receiving), use of the n word

word count: 2.4k

notes: its ony's birthday! 🎂 ive come out my cocoon to deliver this delish lil smut for yall🤭 please enjoy, i havent written smut full out in a bit so! comments, rbgs wit comments all appreciated mwah

"𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝘂' 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱? 𝗣𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗱𝗿𝘆?" 𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗱. "𝗧𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁."

"In five minutes? Oh yea', Con' I'mma do 'em up for you, real good. Mhm, you lucky Sash' my girl." Glossy lips smacked as you ended the call with Connie. Tossing your phone on your bed and heading to the small office space in your apartment. Various tools were laid out across the table. Humming a little, your lavender bunny slippers shuffling as you enter, you hook the handles of two pink glittery packets on your acyrlics. You weighed the packets again and checked the information Connie messaged you. According to Connie, his best friend 'Ony' wanted some good strains you were selling, so of course he hits you up to get the packs for his friend.

Your doorbell went off once, hurrying you to hop down the stairs, holding down your braless, pierced tits behind the thin strapped tank you had on. You peeped at who was outside your apartment, staring for a long two seconds at the buff, darkskinned man with a nose piercing and a fade. The white wife-beater paired with a grey hoodie that matched his sweats, ain't do his muscles justice either! Bejewled teeth bite back against your lips, and you swing the door open, slightly pulling your care bear themed shorts down. His lips grabbed your attention immediately.

Actually, you had to take in his presence quick. His bottom lip was a pretty pink and his top lip dark. His hands were big and so was the broadness of his shoulders. He looked a little nervous too. "You Con's boyfren'?" His lips curled a bit, "Fuck did that nigga tell you ma?" Shit. He spoke so softly you could barely hear what he had to say, only the low base of his voice helped you hear him. You bounce onto your other leg, swallowing hard, "'M just teasin', you 'Ony'?" He licked his lips and hummed with a nod, "Yea, 's Onyankopon." Not one for small talk? "Yea, come in n' lemme get it for you." You eye him and try your hardest to make small talk as he puts his hands up on your door frame, you already had to look up to see his face.

The packets were in the pockets of your shorts, really, with free stickers in 'em too! But you were not about to fumble some potentially lethal dick. You gulp feeling the softness of his body brush against yours as he accepts your invite in, the music from your speakers gracing his ears as you follow him to the living room. You pat the couch for him to sit and walk to the half bath, wasting a few seconds to 'get the packets'. With each interaction you became increasingly aware of what you were wearing. You peeped in the mirror and the heart shaped print of your nipple piercings becoming more prominent.

"Ya'know, youn' really talk dat much... or loudly, do you?" You shuffle back into the living room. He rubs above his lips and manspreads, hands moving to rest beneath the band of his sweats. "If I'm bein' deadass, I'ain got much to say, Con' ain't tell me you was cute ma. Ion really ever like raising my voice eitha'." Somehow, your body temperature just kept going up and your eyes kept drifting back to his lips. You plop down onto the couch, "You got a bitch ri-now?" He leans his head back against your couch and your peer at the way his lips purse out, and his adam's apple bobs. He seemingly manspreads wider, his large build making your couch cushions seem tiny. "Nah, why?" "Jus' wonderin'." Your lips began to feel shaky with every word. The entire encounter was like a meaningless dance around the elephant in the room. And fuck, you were gonna' fuck Constance punk ass up when this night was over. "So listen, I can give you the packets now, 'n you can pay me," You toss the packets onto the coffee table, his eyes remain trained on you. "Or, you c'n getcho dick wet." You mumbled, eyes drifting to connect with his.

A sharp inhale and you see the way his eyes open slightly to peak at you. Fat thighs squeezed together as you sat back with your socked feet up on the couch. "Don't that sound good, Onyankopon?" The way his chest rose with his breaths paused for a minute, reveling in hearing your sweet voice utter his name. His hands push further into his sweats, giving his dick a few long strokes before slipping it out his sweats. It was heavy, so heavy that he held it up for you and let it rest on his wife beater, on his belly button. Being the 'pretty dick' fiend you were meant you needed him in your mouth, immediately.

Quickly lurching forward, you press glossy lips to his pretty cock. His dusted pink tip was fat, and as his dick got darker down the shaft so did it get fatter. The nigga was HUNG, and you could mearly slide your tongue around the circumference of his cock head.

"C'mon mama, do watchu wanna do." It was enough incentive for you to swallow his dick down, relishing in the way it squished down your throat as your held your breath. With each stroke that relieved your airway you took a breath, folding your lips in to glide across his cock as globs of spit dribble across the shaft. You slurp and gag a little with each slip of his dick in your mouth, his hips gyrate and buck up. Ony keeps his eyes on you. Frowning as he interlocks his hands behind your neck, stuffing and forcing your face down on his cock. His head drops back against the couch, fucking his dick up into your mouth with heavy groans filling the room, even above the slow beats of your music. You needed him to tear your shit up within the next two seconds before you start to go crazy.

"Fuck, take all dat shit off, ma." Ony grips your jaw as he pulls you off his dick, spit dripping down your chin and lips plumped up. You wobble on your knees to stand up and undress yourself while he shrugs off his hoodie and wife beater. Tattoos decorated his pecs and arms, the dark ink prettily accentuating his melanin. He nods his head to the side, "Lay back right there, pretty." Plump pink lips pout a little but you follow his directions regardless, laying back into the cushions and spreading your legs. "Ain't nun' wrong with puttin' it in dry," you mutter below your breath when his lips connect with your clit. He mumbles something like 'don't piss me off' and his tongue is all over you.

His hands are big enough to grip the entire spread of your thigh, forcing your leg back as he worked his tongue in circles around your clit, sloppily spitting through your folds and caressing your hole with his tongue. He ate it like a starving man, his frowning and groaning into you growing more frequent as he pushes his face deeper. Your nails ghost the back of his neck, feeling the vibrations of his groans while the other played with your nipple. He tilts his head at an angle, flattening his tongue against your clit and you flinch, the electric pleasure shooting through your tummy and he smiles.

"Right there?" He peers up at you just as your eyes started springing tears. He bites down on his lips, and gives your clit a few kisses. You gasp and start pushing on his shoulders, understanding where he was going . Ony, undisturbed, curls his tongue into your clit, sucking and spitting on your cunt and maintaining the angle. Your tummy begins to tighten, clit pulsing with every lick, holding your breath and arching up into him. A sharp smack on your clit forces a cry out of you, "Stop holdin' yo' breath or imma' leave you right here," Fuck. You let out exasperated breaths as you desperately gyrate your hips into his mouth. Your clit, swollen and fat started to feel almost numb, you can't help but slap his shoulders and whine. "Shit, shit, shit— Ony, that's enough." It only edges him on, sucking up your creamy releases and forcing himself impossibly closer to you. You head was already pressed up against the armrest leaving you no escape, eyes rolling in different directions and mouth agape. Ony's mouth is latched onto you, bouncing your entire body into the couch cushions. You could only moan 'yes, yes, yes' with each rocking of your clit in his mouth.

Your toes curl and you're pushing his head into your pussy, chasing a bigger release than the one you just had. "Fuck, yeah, eat it just like that, baby," Your grip on everything begins to loosen and your lower body feels like static; milky slick squirts out of you as your body begins to relax and you hold Onyankopon's head in place as he drinks it all up. "You're fucking insane," You huff out at him when he lifts his head up to look at you, your release dripping off his nose and chin. "Watchu' said? Put dat shit in dry?" he rasped. "Turn over and put yo leg up on the seat." You give a start and look at him, feeling a mess.

"You not gon' let me recover, bitch?" He licks his lips and sits up on his knees, grabbing your ass like he was preparing to put you in position if you didn't do it. Consistently maintaining eye contact. "Don't call me no bitch," You hear him say low, "And turn the fuck over," He gives your ass a hard shove. You flop over onto your stomach, arching your ass up for some backshots, before sitting up to pull your right leg from out under you and kicking it up onto the top of the couch. You feel your inner thigh burn from the near split position, gripping onto the arm of the couch. Ony's fingers toy with your cunt and spreads you about the length of his dick, pumping it a few times before moulding circles around your clit with his tip: movements calculated. "Shit," You mumble softly, noticing the ever-increasing slip of your pussy. He slows the teasing of your clit, a large hand gripping your ass and pushing you down simultaneously. He lets his tip catch your sopping entrance, pushing in slightly and ignoring your whines as he basks in the wetness pressinh on his tip. "Ony stop playin' 'n put that shit in, God." He pulses his tip back and forth, slowly sinking deeper but not deep enough for you to even get two inches of his cock.

He whispers something lowly and you're unable to hear him. Just as you opened your mouth to ask 'Watchu sayin' nigga?', so did it hang open when he stuffed his full length into you swiftly. "Holy fuck," Was all you could force out of your mouth, his girth pushing against your walls as he sit in it. His hand spreads your ass and you feel him sink his thumb into your ass, his grip on you tightening. Your eyes already start rolling back into your head with the slight movements of his dick in you while he shifts to adjust his knees on the couch. You grip the couch hard and press your head against it when he starts using your ass to gain leverage, momentum.

"Think you c'n take sum fat dick?" Onyankopon mutters above you, the hand with his thumb in your ass slowly dragging you off his cock and back. "Yeah, yeah, gimme— gimme whatever you want, baby." You swallow, attempting to comprehend his question amidst the aching of your pussy that hungrily slobbered all over his dick. Maintaining the slow drag, he reaches down with his other hand to grip your neck, giving you a few tugs to manhandle you into a comfortable groove; before finally hammering his hips into your ass.

Ony groans and curses low while you struggle to hold onto the couch, his strong arms on your neck, forcing your ass back onto him. "Fuck! fuck— fuuuck, Ony," You let out a sob with each stroke he put on you, feeling incredibly full with just his thumb and girth combined. Your pussy was spread and aching around him, slippery and loud and nasty. "Fuck— she talkin' to me?" Onyankopon grins above you and only snaps his hips down into your ass harder, letting it sting. Your pussy was dripping, strings of slick falling from your cunt onto the couch and dripping down to tickle your sensitive clit with each stroke.

You were a mess, with every curse and 'ah!' came drool spilling from your mouth, slobbering about the couch and spreading it down to your fattened nipples. Your hand toyed with the piercing and you only felt more full, your tummy swelling more with each invasion of his dick against your walls. "C'mon take it, take it," Ony removes his hand from your neck to slap your ass hard, forcing his other thumb deeper in you, moving the other to play with your clit. White, foamy, release plops down like whipped cream onto his fingers as he rapidly and roughly guided them around your swollen clit. The same realese making his cock hot and melting in your pretty pussy, coating his every inch and forcing low moans out of him. "Ain't this watchu wanted? My dick wet as fuuuck, mama," You moan back some unintelligible response, you could barely hear the words coming out his mouth. Your entire being was totally focused on the way you began to tremble and squirt small spurts of cum gliding down your legs.

Onyankopon holds you still, hiking one of his legs up and fucking into you unimaginably deeper, sloppier, nastier. You squeal and grab his hand that's at your clit, slapping his arm and biting the softness of the couch's limb while your cry and whine. Ony ignores your attempts to tap out amidst the convulsing of your legs and hard quivering of your body. Your head was pounding now and you go completely blank for a split second, your full releases forcing itself out of you for the second time without your consent, in thick streams.

Your gasps and desperate as you attempt to get yourself together, all while Onyankopon can't help but nut deep in you before pulling out and slapping your clit a few final times with his dick. Your body refuses to move from the complicated position, Ony silently pulls your leg off the seat and carefully moves you onto your back. He wipes some tears off your fucked out face, hesitating before getting up and digging in your fridge for water before returning with two bottles. He opens one for you, feeding you the cold comfort that soothes your thoat while you hold onto his wrist.

"You straight?" He asks before leaning to dig in the pockets of his sweats and pull out a bit if cash. "Mhm," was all you could muster, watching him throw the money on the table before grabbing his phone. "Shit," He half grumbles with a soft chuckle before showing you the bright screen. Six missed calls from Connie.

#onyankopon x reader #onyankopon smut #onyankopon #aot connie #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x black reader #attack on titan #onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon #onyankopon snk #onyankopon x black reader #﹒﹒﹒💗 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦: 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 💌 𓂃 !

2K notes · View notes

sam015 · 4 months

Text

Hoodies & Coffee

The Arsenal training grounds were always chaotic. Players from the men's, women's and youth teams working and hanging out around the facilities. Today was no different.

“Y/n, get back here!” Viv shouted as Y/n attempted to sneak out of the changing room behind Katie.

“Sorry, I tried,” Katie whispered, leaving Y/n behind like a deer in headlights, hurrying out on the field inorder to avoid Y/n’s overbearing parental figures.

“Traitor,” Y/n whispered back as Katie left her behind.

“Come back over here,” Viv repeated, sighing with her head down Y/n sulked back over to her pseudo-parents.

“Come on, you need to put a jacket on before you go outside,” Beth said, directing Y/n towards her locker. Y/n looked up at Beth with a sheepish look on her face.

“I may or may not have forgotten it,” Y/n frowned, not wanting to look up and see the disappointed look on Beth’s face.

“Y/n, it's getting cold outside. You need to take care of yourself. We can’t have you getting sick,” Beth lectured while Y/n studiously avoided her gaze, her fingers rapidly tapping on her leg.

“I know. I’m sorry, but I was in a rush this morning. I woke up late, and it just slipped my mind.”

“Why did you wake up late?” Viv interjected, looking over to Y/n curiously as she pulled her gloves on.

“Nightmare,” Y/n whispered, turning away from the conversation and back to her locker, desperately hoping that she had left one previously. Pulling open the door, she was relieved to see a red Arsenal hoodie folded on the seat, a printed six on the right side. Smiling slightly, she pulled the hoodie on, breathing in the smell of Leah’s familiar perfume.

“Thanks, Lee,” Y/n called out, catching the English captain just as she left the room.

“No problem, darling,” Leah said with a small smile before turning and leaving the still partially full changing room. Y/n turned to follow the Englishwoman out of the changing room.

“We will talk about this later,” Viv called. Y/n nodded, shaking her head as she tried to focus on the training ahead of her. Leaving the room, she walked out onto the pitch, grabbed a ball and began to warm up.

As practice began, Y/n became very warm in her borrowed hoodie. She quickly stripped it off, tossing it over to the side beside their water bottles. Beth raised her eyes at the action, but Jonas pulled her attention away as the drill began. Y/n enjoyed training in the cold. It reminded her of home and the cold practices they would have during winter and fall training sessions.

Throughout practice, Y/n could feel Beth and Viv’s eyes on her. For the most part, she ignored them, knowing that they were just worried she was cold. Occasionally, she could feel Leah’s gaze on her. This one felt different than Beth's and Viv’s; it made her face flush a bit, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

As practice came to an end, Y/n decided to run a few sprints. She loved the feeling of the cold air in her lungs. It reminded her of home, of the times she would run home after school. It reminded her of when things were more straightforward, and she could just run and play football without worrying about anything else.

“Come on, Y/n, let's go inside,” Viv called out, holding Leah’s sweater out to the younger girl. Y/n shrugged it on with a smile, feeling the warmth and softness of the hoodie. It felt like a warm hug; she enjoyed the feeling. Something about the warmth combined with Leah’s perfume made her feel safe.

Viv wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulder, escorting her inside, with Beth following the pair.

“Hey, I feel excluded; I’m your girlfriend, not Y/n,” Beth jokingly pouted. Y/n stuck her tongue out at Beth, causing Viv to snort in laughter.

“You know you can talk to us about anything, right Y/n?” Viv asked, pulling Y/n into a small alcove which Beth followed the pair into. Y/n nodded, and Viv pulled the shorter girl entirely into a hug.

“Whatever it is, we are here for you,” Beth reinforced, using her hands to guide Y/n’s eyes to look into her own.

“I know.”

As the team slowly trickled out of the changing room after training, Leah nervously stood at her locker, waiting for the right moment. She kept shifting her weight from foot to foot as she tapped her fingers on the thin metal of her locker.

“Do you need something?” Beth asked, slightly concerned about the anxious energy the normally confident English captain exuded. Leah only shook her head. Beth rolled her eyes. Leah was so obvious, but for every bit of obviousness Leah had, Y/n was just as oblivious. With a slight grin, Beth pulled Viv, who was still packing her things, out of the changing room, leaving Y/n and Leah alone. Leah watched as the door swung shut, waiting before it was entirely closed before approaching the younger girl.

“Do you want to go for coffee with me?” Leah asked hesitantly, looking up from her locker and towards Y/n. Leah could feel her cheeks heating up as she waited for Y/n to respond. Y/n turned around, making it so she was facing the Englishwoman.

“Like as in a date?” Y/n clarified, pausing in her packing and taking a step towards the other woman.

“Yeah,” Leah said, the tips of her eyes turning bright red.

“I’d love to,” Y/n said, watching as the anxiety bled out of Leah’s figure.

#woso #arsenal wfc #woso imagine #leah williamson #vivianne miedema imagine #beth mead #leah williamson x reader #woso x reader

640 notes · View notes