Season 7 Episode 2 Preview

miguel o’hara thots

miguel loves watching you fall apart on his dick. you’re face down ass up, mewling and whimpering as he bullies your tight cunt with his thick hard length. you have a death grip on one of your stuffed animals as you laid there with tears rolling down your flustered cheeks and took the brutal pace he gave you. trying to match miguel’s thrusts are almost impossible as he always finds a way to one up you whenever he sees fit, not that you were complaining as having a pleasurably sore pussy wasn’t so bad.

you’ve came multiple times prior which left a creamy ring on the base of his length and a damp puddle on top of the covers. you were overstimulated to the point the pleasure was slightly painful. “m-miggy…s’too much…”you pleaded in between pleasurable sobs only to be met with no answer besides grunts that made your swollen clit throb. you took a free hand to reach behind and push his stomach as a weak attempt to get him to slow down just for him to effortlessly hold your arm behind your back and take his other hand to lay a few heavy spanks on your plush ass gaining positive yelps from you.

“deja de lloriquear como un bebé, puedes soportarlo... siempre lo haces.” he coos in your ear, nipping it gently with his sharp teeth knowing how much you love that. “you’re my big girl, make me proud and cum one more time..”

you already know one more time will mean three more times after that but nevertheless, you love being his good girl and cum as many times as he asks you to.

april 29th and rintarou suna was questioning his fidelity

april 29th and rintarou suna was annoyed from the advances of his current girlfriend who makes him feel nothing anymore

april 29th and rintarou suna was gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white, easily going 15 over the limit in a rush to see you

april 29th and rintarou suna didn’t tell his girlfriend where he was going

april 29th and rintarou suna was tapping his foot waiting for you to open the door, regret growing with every second you stalled

april 29th and rintarou suna instantly had his tongue down your throat the second the door opened, hands on your waist tightly, shutting the front door behind him

april 29th and rintarou suna was pulling your dress over your head in a flash so quickly you weren’t sure he wasn’t magic

april 29th and rintarou suna was shoving his middle and ring fingers past your pretty lips demanding, “suck.” as you undid his white button up shirt

april 29th and rintarou suna was palming your soaking pussy through your pretty lace panties, watching your eyes flutter shut and your head roll back at the sensation. “rintarou, please.”

april 29th and rintarou suna was pinching and pulling your clit and your nipples to make you cum without him even touching your pussy. panties still on, and now drenched.

april 29th and rintarou suna had taken one of your breasts in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the soft skin and nipping at the flesh to leave pretty red and purple marks, the other in his hand as he played and squeezed and pinched to make the sensations equal

april 29th and rintarou suna told you to open wide only for him to direct his spit to land on your cheek rather than in your mouth, and proceeded to rub it around your face with his thumb, coating your skin in his saliva. “you look so pretty like this, babydoll. you’re so so good for me.”

april 29th and rintarou suna’s thighs were shaking, abs were clenching, and fist was tight in your hair as he dragged you by your hair up and down his dick, his other hand being sure to reach down and press a thumb to your clit in your most sensitive spot

april 29th and rintarou suna had his soon-to-be wife’s best friend gagging on his dick as the most vulgar, vile, desperate, sinful sounds fell from your lips

april 29th and rintarou suna had you screaming louder than anyone’s ever made you be, bent over with a leg over his shoulder and one wrapped around his waist as he lifted your hips to stick your ass in the air, face shoved down into the blankets which aided in muffling your sobs and screams

april 29th and rintarou suna had bruised and bitten and pinched your entire body enough to cover you in love bites and marks, showing you off as his. something he’d never done much of with his fiancée.

april 29th and rintarou suna had you holding your orgasm with the most fucked out glassed over eyes he’s ever seen, begging that “if you just let me cum i promise to be the best girl you’ve ever seen, rinnie”

april 29th and rintarou suna meets the abused and overstimulated flesh between your legs with a solid pro volleyball player strength slap anytime you cum without permission

april 29th and rintarou suna has long since stopped worrying about being nice to your body. his tight grips and sharp bites and hard slaps and clit & hair pulls: every pain inducing thing he did to you? the more it hurt the better it felt

april 29th and rintarou suna had you creaming all over his dick, his cum leaking out of your overused hole, body more severely fucked than ever before

april 29th and rintarou suna had ensured you’d be walking funny for the following week

april 29th and rintarou suna swirled your clit with his abnormally long tongue before tongue fucking you like the pussy god he is

april 29th and rintarou suna didn’t bother showering before returning to his fiancée, reeking of sex and of your perfume. shirt messily buttoned and wrinkled, belt long gone (still on the floor of your bedroom), hickeys littering his skin, and not even a second glance at his wife to be. 

april 29th and rintarou suna had ruined his promises of fidelity.

do you really wanna know where i was april 29th?

hanamaki takahiro is actually so sexy and alluring to me ...i am betwitched by his unemployed loserboy ways...

izuku, i miss u

yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - you’d decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.

last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - you’d been tipsy enough to take her advice. 

casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone you’re sure you won't fall in love with.

this morning you’d woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.

you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak. 

“did we really–” 

“three times,” satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. “i'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.”

when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. “don’t get familiar.”

“we’re naked together in bed– we slept together in more than the literal sense. can’t get more familiar than that.” 

“and this never happen again,” you promise, refusing to look at him. 

“why? because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me? it’s okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.” 

you’ve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. he’s satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. you’re no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan. 

people like him don’t fall for people like you. you’re afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt. 

“we’re friends,” you tell him honestly. “i don’t want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.” 

he tilts his head as your look at him. “shoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?”

“she told you?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again. 

“hey, look at me,” he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. “i can be casual and chill, it’s not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.” 

it’s so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could.  

“i’ll think about it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. “but you need to go home before shoko sees you.” 

but you’re dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what he’s told. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. come here.”

he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so you’re snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.

 “i can’t.” you tell him (though you’re mostly reminding yourself.) this is insane— satoru, what are you—”

you’re cut off when he shushes you, whispering let’s sleep in for a little while longer. 

he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you. 

so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes of…cuddling. shoko isn’t a morning person anyways.

after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. it’s a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isn’t the worst thing in the world. 

(it’s purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)

a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips. 

then, shoko knocks on your door. 

“hey! don’t tell me you’re too hungover for grocery shopping.” 

“shit!” you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. “she cannot see you in here.” 

“afraid you’ll have to share?” he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. “okay, okay! where do you want me?”

“closet!” you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet. 

he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. “aren’t you glad we’re doing this?”

you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.

“hey,” you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.

“did you bring someone home last night?”

“no.”

she looks at you. really looks at you, you think. 

“okay,” she finally says, though you can’t tell if she believes you. “i just– i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.”

“gojo and i?” you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. “never in a million years.”

shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leave…

…only for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. “well if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.” 

wait–

“gojo?”

you hear a sharp inhale through the door. 

“yeah,” she nods. “you really couldn't tell?”

gojo…has a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. “i had no idea.” 

“of course you didn't. he’s definitely got a really weird way of showing it.”

she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you. 

you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shoko’s revelation, at this entire situation.

dating sucks, but maybe it won’t be that bad if it’s with him.

"ha, i'm so funny" PLS HE SO WOULD THINK SOMETHING LIKE THAT

this problem has been bugging him for weeks. how dare you, a measly, meaningless extra, dare to make bakugo katsuki, the bakugo katsuki, fall in love with you. the audacity, really. but that’s not the end of it. he wants these butterflies in his stomach gone, and according to Wikihow.com, the best thing to do would be,

— a confession.

so he makes one (after he thinks about it for weeks). it’s probably the best confession you’ve ever recieved, he thinks to himself, if not the only one. a smirk plays on his face, ha, i’m so funny.

the classroom starts to empty out as the bell for dismissal time rings. bakugo walks past your desk, sliding a small, folded note on the surface of the wooden top. “what-” you don’t even get to finish your sentence, because he glares at you with blushing cheeks and runs away. “ok”, you say, laughing at his antics. the note unfolds into a crumpled piece of notebook paper, and there you see in his ugly, scrawny, writing ;

“date me or be lame.”

© solaxena : all rights reserved. do not edit, modify, repost, or claim my works as your own.

Watching some Saiki K. "Good grief" doesn't have the same punch in English

He should get to say fucks sake

favourite t-shirt

notes: hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader (2.4k words)

warnings: insecure makki, talk of having children, suggestive

heavily influenced by favourite t-shirt - jake scott this song has had a chokehold on me forever

masterlist

there wasn’t an ounce of his attention on the film. he’s only looking at the screen but the thoughts in his head are elsewhere: you’re close enough to him to distract him from the action movie he picked out twenty minutes ago.

even after seeing you for a few months now, he still couldn’t believe you were his. of all the thoughts running through his mind its the one that’s making him question what he did to deserve you that’s running fastest.

what did he do to make you, the former manager of the aoba johsai volleyball club, change your opinion on him? what did he do that made you start to look at him like you do now? what did he do right to deserve the place by your side when he knows you’re loved by anyone and everyone?

he might not know what he’s done to deserve this but he’s making the most of every second he’s got you there. he doesn’t know if or when this will end.

you’re so invested in the film you don’t even realise you lean against him the way you do. he’s tense for a second; it’s not the first time you’ve been close to him like this. there have been more private moments shared but there’s something even more intimate about it this time.

his arm moves around your shoulder, pulling you as close to him as you can be. you only notice for a second, glancing up at him with a smile that has his mind whirling with even more with thoughts he wished would go away.

it’s too soon for what he thinks next.

the words are on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out before he can fully think them through. with just that little smile; one that lasted maybe a second before you were looking at the tv screen again, he knows you’re the woman for him.

he’s fallen hard and fast. in four simple months, he’s discovered so much about himself: he’s hopelessly in love with you.

he wants to say it. to shout it from the rooftops in fact, but he doesn’t know if you’re ready to hear that or if you even want to hear that from him. why would you, the girl of his dreams, want him when he can’t even keep a job?

it’s almost as if you can sense the worry from beside you, your hand coming to take hold of his in a simple, comforting grasp. you’re looking up to him again, the light of the screen reflecting the colour of your eyes beautifully.

the thoughts are back and he’s fighting with his own mind in fear he’ll ruin everything with three little words.

even as you stand from the couch, coming back to sit on his lap comfortably with a leg on either side of his torso. he almost stops breathing as your hands come to his shoulders and a sweet, innocent, sultry smile sits on your face. you’re one move away from him telling you everything in his mind that’s screaming he wants you.

you only kiss him once, much to his dismay. it’s not short; it’s not long but it’s enough to have his heart pounding in his chest as your hands wander from his broad shoulders to his chest and he’s praying you can’t feel how nervous he’s got with such a simple thing.

after everything you’ve done together, he shouldn’t be so easily riled up but he can’t control it.

you kiss his cheek. you kiss his jaw. you kiss his neck.

with every peck on his skin, his heart is hammering in his chest and his hands squeeze your waist in an attempt to calm himself down.

he could laugh at himself with the way he was acting; he could hear mattsun’s mockery at the idea a woman was making him this nervous. he would be the subject of every joke for a month; he’d tell all of their friends.

or they’d think he was playing some sort of joke.

they could hardly believe he was even in a relationship: he hadn’t been able to keep on longer than a week for some time now and matsukawa loved to remind it of him constantly. even if the two of you had been dating for months now, he was convinced you would end it eventually, if hanamaki didn’t.

he’s brought back to reality when you’re hands sneak down his abdomen and he flinches when your cold fingers touched his bare skin. his breathing hitches as your hands push further up, his shirt bundling up as you pull back and look at him.

he’s a mess below you with a blush painting his face and his hands barely secure on your waist. he’s certain if he moves them it’ll be even more obvious how nervous he’s gotten.

looking at your face he feels his nerves even more; his breathing now speeding up he’s watching the way your lips curve into a smile. you’re leaning down again with your mocking smile still sitting on your face, kissing him rougher than before.

his arms snake around your waist again, pulling you as close as possible as his lips moved in synch with yours. by the time you’re pulling away you’re giggling at the way he’s panting. he can’t say anything; he’s not got the breath to do anything.

the way you’re looking at him with your lipstick smeared around your lips reminds him of the first time the two of you were in this position sat in the back of his car with a blanket wrapped around you.

that time your hands were more focused on other things that left him breathless but it’s almost the exact same situation as he’s in right now with you just barely grazing his lips with your own; leaving him yearning for more.

that memory is enough to spur him on at the moment, his arms keeping hold of you securely as he stood. your legs wrap around his waist tightly as you squeal with a laugh. he’s kissing you now; he’s decided it’s his turn to take the initiative.

waking up the next morning, he can’t feel your warmth like he expected. instead, the covers are pulled back on the side of the bed you fell asleep on; your clothes are still scattered around his room; he knows you’re still in the house but he’d much rather wake up to you in his arms.

however, you opening his door while towel drying the ends of your hair is enough of a sight for him to stop caring that he’s alone in bed. especially when you’re wearing the dumb shirt he loves with the crappy sexual innuendo scribbled across your chest.

it’s covering the tops of your legs but, when you’re reaching up in a stretch it rises up enough for him to see the marks he left on your thigh the night before. smirking to himself, he averts his eyes before you can say anything.

you walk to the side of the bed, leaning down to kiss him only to be grabbed and pulled onto the bed; he rolls over so you’re trapped under his body unable to move. “hiro.” you giggle, your arms around his neck as you hold him tight against you–you may joke and complain about his recent clinginess but you’re just the same.

he hopes you can’t feel his heart hammering in his chest against you when you kiss the top of his head. he could fall asleep against you like that until the offer of you cooking breakfast comes up. as much as he would love to stay in bed with you all day the idea of you in an apron is just as appealing.

you're bouncing down the stairs, leaving makki in bed lying on his back as he realised he wasn’t just in love with you. there was something more there; you were his everything.

he’s following you shortly afterwards, his heart skipping a beat once more when you’re in his sight standing in front of his stove. he’s behind you in an instant, hands coming around your waist and holding you close.

it’s a sight he’d pay to see again. maybe every morning. maybe, when you’ve grown together, he can have your children on his hip while you look like this to give you a break from the constant screaming and crying of the newborn, or you’ll be holding your son while he’s cooking a meal.

he’s found a solid job by then.

you turn in his grip, unaware of the hypothetical plans he’s making in his head, and stare up at him with doe-like eyes and a smile on your face. your hands stroke up his arms; resting your arms on his shoulders you’re on your tiptoes to give him a soft kiss.

he pulls you in closer when you try to pull back; kissing you harder not caring that the food might be burning. in fact, with his hand roaming your body just like they were the night before, you’re switching everything off and enjoying the moment with him.

the food can always be reheated.

it’s stupid how giddy he feels when you’re near him; it’s crazy how his skin is covered in goosebumps at the lingering touches you leave on him. just a tiny scrape of your fingertips on him is enough to drive him insane; he loves every second of it.

you’re back in the shower after the breakfast interruption and makki finds himself in need of advice; there’s only one person he thinks of contacting. he’s quick to explain it all and iwaizumi lets out a small chuckle at the thought of his nonchalant friend struggling with his own feelings.

“just tell her.” is all he can say but makki’s not ready to say it yet.

you’re back in his shirt when you’re out of the shower, instead this time you’d opted for a pair of legging to go underneath and you’re climbing back into bed beside where he’s sat. you’re tired again and in need of a small nap before you head home for the day.

you don’t want to though if it wasn’t for the afternoon shift you were scheduled in for he would be trying to keep you there beside him.

you’re groggy when you wake up. wiping your eyes and moving so your head is in his lap. you’re immediately distracting him from the video playing on his phone. “morning.” he jokes, his free hand coming to stroke through your hair. you smile up at him, returning the greeting before you’re lifting yourself up.

it’s almost time for you to leave. in fact, it’s already too late for you to do everything you usually would before work.

“i’ll drive you.” he’s saying, throwing a jacket over his clothes whilst you pick up the few pieces still scattered. you smile thanks to him; grabbing one of his jackets over the t-shirt you’ve forgotten you’re wearing.

he grins when he follows you out; he’s glad you’ve forgotten it's his clothes you’re wearing because that means he’ll be seeing you again very soon when you realise you need to return it.

you’re chatting away to him happily as he drives you to your building, dreading the moment you walked away the entire time. but you’re in a rush now and you’re jumping out of the car the moment it’s parked, running over to the driver’s side and smiling at him as he lowered his window.

“i’ll call you later.” you assure him with a smile kissing him through the window one more time before you’re running inside.

and hanamaki is left with his thoughts once more as he watches you; making sure he doesn’t even think about leaving until he sees you turn, wave and safely enter your building.

his head falls forward, resting on the back of his hands gripping the top of the steering wheel as he lets out a sigh–he’ll blurt it out the next time he sees you for sure.

he’s reaching the point of desperation when he calls oikawa tooru through the bluetooth of his car, the man complaining about a wake-up call the second he picks ups, reminding makki of the time difference, but he’s also concerned as to why his friend is calling at this time (for him).

he doesn’t explain much: the full story isn’t needed but what is needed is advice. advice from someone who won’t relentlessly tease or laugh off his worry as something that wasn’t a big deal.

makki loved his friends; how could he not after this many years of them being stuck in his life? but, of all of them, he knew the only one that would be brutally honest with him was oikawa, especially when he’s slightly agitated from being woken up with a sudden call.

oikawa’s silent as makki finishes filling him in and makki’s growing more nervous as he waits for the man, that’s had much more like with the ladies, to give him a needed piece of advice.

“are you an idiot!” oikawa’s fully awake now. there’s no way he couldn’t be with the stupidity he was hearing from his long term friend. he’s completely amazed with the thought that you’re probably in the exact same boat as your boyfriend but neither of you thinks the other feels the same (had oikawa kept in touch with you too he’d be phoning you in seconds to subtly spill the beans) and now you’re tiptoeing away from happiness.

makki doesn’t know how to respond, choosing silence instead as oikawa groans and finally gives his advice.

“tell her.” he pauses like that’s all he has to say when he’s trying to find the words that will go through makki’s, apparently, thick head. “she’s seen you date people, yeah you’re relationship's lasted longer than usual this time, but she won’t think that it’s because you love her.” frustrated with his friend, and wanting to go back to sleep, he hangs up after one more piece of guidance and a mumbled goodbye.

“if you love her, you love her. time has nothing to do with this. you’ve known her for years anyway; you won’t lose her that easily.”

makki sighs to himself as he hears the tone signalling the end of the call and, for once in his life, he’s agreeing with oikawa. who cares if he’s moving quickly, he loves you and what’s the point of that if he can’t even show you?

so, when you finally remember to return his favourite t-shirt and his jacket, he’s ready to tell you everything.

you beat him to the punch, however. nervously stammering out the three words he was once scared of; praying he feels the same and, if the bright smile on his face wasn’t obvious enough, he does.

sero with a sleeve tattoo of random asss things live in my head rent free

OP CALLED THEM SPARKNOTES I'M LIVINGGGGGG I LOVE KAMIDEKU