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glorified-red · 1 year

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oooo a 5k? Are you a student athlete?is that how you got a full ride?

Yes, but no, but yes, but no.

I've been an althete for my entire school career up until my senior year of highschool, so I guess? Student Athlete?

For a year or so I was a gymnast. (My sister and I did it together, she stayed her entire life, I did not, obviously)

Then for a few years I played T-Ball (recently found out via my mom that I made the front page of the city newspaper because I hit the ball and then felt really bad so I went to go pick it up instead of like....playing the game).

Then I played soccer for, so many years, I couldn't tell you how many, I lost count. (I was offense most of the time, rip my ankles)

I almost did volleyball but chickened out last minute (wouldve been a setter or libero).

Then, being the band kid I was, I joined marching band my freshman year. (ah seven years of playing an instrument leads to this)

Got bored of that so I switched to colorguard for two years which was soooo much more athletically demanding my GAWD. (two years of ✨trauma✨ but I might buy a sabre soon, idk, feeling kinda silly)

And Senior year I did nothing and got a job to fill the void of having way too much freetime for me to know what to do with. How do you guys not do sports? What do you do with all the free time???

So yes, I was a "student athlete," kinda sorta, not really, but sure. If I kept playing I probably could've gotten a music scholarship but I haven't touched that instrument in almost 3 years. Same with maybe a marching band scholarship? Idk if my college does that tbh.

But how I actually got my scholarships? Tests and Parents pfft.

5.2 + 3.98 GPA (dont ask why its not a 4.0, I will literally start crying, went my ENTIRE LIFE with a 4.0 only for the lAsT sEmEsTer of SENIOR YEAR---full disrespect: fuck college Spanish), straight A's MINUS ONE CLASS (if I could fist fight college spanish I so would).

I was a dual enrollment kid so I was half a highschool student and half a college student, shot my GPA through the roof and got me to graduate with my AA the same year I graduated highschool. I was the Jason Todd, loved school, was great at school, never struggled, never studied, etc etc.

SAT scores and ACT scores got me a 75% scholarship to any college I wanted to go to in the area (I was only a few points away from 100% but I was too lazy to try again lmao). Then I got another scholarship for being a military brat. Then I got another one for having parents with post-military issues where I basically get paid to go to school. All of that just combines to a full ride, plus any extra money from the scholarships goes to me which is more than I need so it's in my savings acct.

First two years of college were completely free because I was in the dual enrollment program (free college woo), next three years are free because of multiple scholarships, I just say full ride cuz it's quicker to say and gets the point across.

As for the 5ks: My mom and I like to do them together and do at least one a month. This month we're doing an obstacle 5k where you physically cannot complete it without a buddy or a group. Army crawling under electricity, balancing on things by countering each others weight, ninja warrior wall where your team is at the top to catch you, etc etc.

My family (found moreso than blood) is going as Justice League members because there were too many of us to be the Power Rangers. We're doing another one of these in Dec. and then the 10k version of it next year and then hopefully the 15k version. I know my mom and I want to eventually do a marathon.

My main goal is to complete a triathalon. I've ALWAYS wanted to do one so we're gonna try to do it sometime late next year. Starting with the shorter triathalons and slowly working our way up to the more average/long ones.

Now don't get it twisted, I'm not like, a runner or workout junky. Quite literally the opposite. My mom is a runner and its her therapy. Mine? Meeting new people, getting some sun, getting the body moving, and maybe getting some nice scenary. I do run parts of the races, but for the most part I like a nice brisk walk since its healthier for my body than running (yay chronic pain and stupid ovaries!)

I hate the stereotype that you have to run the whole thing or be super fit to do marathons and races. No?? Anyone who wants to can. The point for me isn't to win or to place, its just to finish and have fun. Do I enjoy having a good time? Hell yea, I beat my time by 10 minutes last solo 5k I did. But I'm also the first person who will happily sacrifice a good time so I can enjoy meeting other racers and walking with them.

The last 5k I did was a forest one (it fucking sucked) where the terrain was sand and there were soooo many branches and hills. I watched a racer sprain their ankle right in front of me so we ended up walking the rest together and I carried them for some bits. So my time was terrible, but hey, I got to meet someone I never would've if I didn't stop---and that's more valuable to me.

#not to mention the 5k my family did where we all turned around to walk with the last racer #he just got out of rehab from a leg injury and had a walker #he just wanted to prove to himself he could complete it #so we walked with him #i carried a flag to shade him #someone had waters #someone had a chair for breaks #i ended up running ahead to the end to gather as many people as i could to cheer him on #when he got to the finish line #he walked without the walker #it was insane #i was sobbing #it was a military 5k so it hit pretty close to home #so that day i did a 15k #time? did not even look #i got to witness that bravery firsthand and got to be a part of it #because i chose to #the winners of the race left #and didn't see it #i think i won that day #he gave a huge speech at the end and said to my entire family and the crowd we gathered #that he never wouldve finished without the support system #and my god #i was weeping like a baby #snotty mess #so yea #athletic but not really #asks

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icharchivist · 1 year

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after a fun day reminiscing about how fun a3 is, i’m just getting a wave of sadness again from the closure of the EN server. I know that catching up with the JPN server would just be ideal but there’s something very eerie about seeing the characters i’ve spent my daily life with, with the feeling of time passing by, having so much more experience than where i last left them and it feels overwhelming to catch up essentially 4 years of content. Not to mention always the bittersweetness of really seeing just how far this journey had taken them.

I just really miss a3 and the daily aspect of it, i miss my children, i want to hold them so bad. I love them so much. Guh.

#i wish i had the energy to catch up #i barely even have the energy to keep on with the reread i started :sob:#life got insanely busy all at once and my energy hits a new low every day so it makes it a bit depressing #but on the other hand i was watching the trailer for the new anni event #and just got filled with intense sorrow as they were talking about how much experience they built over the years #and then Sakuya blushed a little and i cried because this is my son and i want to hold him.#could imagine the High of reliving moments that made me happy just ends up swinging into the low of missing it so damn much #sighs. i'll catch up. one day. I'll get there. I gotta. For my kids.#but man i wish the EN server never closed...#ichatalks about a3 #i miss my stupid kids and i miss rambling about them. Alright.

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deityofhearts · 3 months

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telling my roommate that I hate winter themed items (not all of them, but most of them) was a mistake because she keeps showing me winter themed items now and going “hey. look :)”

#deity dialogue #mean to me #okay so like I have a winter bday or like actually I’m p sure it’s fall but it’s December so close enough #and I have received winter and christmas themed gifts and now I just kinda hate it #maybe i don’t want a shirt with a giant snowflake like what lex showed me #I am once again thinking about one of the worst most soulless gifts I recieve which was when on the day of my birthday my aunt and uncle #left me in the car with my cousins whilst they ran into the hallmarks tore for a couple of minutes #then we got to my Mimi’s house and they presented me with the following: a silver circle charm with a P on it a card with a peacock on it #and like one or two santa shaped chocolates.#and i know. I know they bought those from the hallmark store #and it’s like #did y’all forget did y’all simply just care that little about my birthday? lmao #then again my aunt and uncle have ALWAYS done the best fucking minimum for my birthday so am I really that surprised?#my bday was always combined with christmas and my birthday gift for years was five extra dollars on Christmas #I remain pissed fuck them #sorry this is me complaining about my bday #we can only hope this year doesn’t suck #last year was actually p close but I still ended up sobbing so not really #may this year be a much happier birthday or else because if someone or something makes me fucking cry on my fucking birthday one more time #I am straight up going to lose it I’m going to snap and I’m going to ruin my birthday for everyone else #if I can’t be happy on my birthday then no one can <3 #I really hate my birthday and each year I become more bitter

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screampied · 5 months

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squirting for the first time with jjk men?? 😫

❛ SLIPPERY WHEN WET! ❜

sukuna, toji, getō, gojo, namami, choso. jjk men and their reaction to making you squirt for the first time

total wc. 3.6k

warnings. fem!reader, degradation, squirting, overstim, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, p*ssydrunk men, dumbification, pussyspanking, toy usage, edging. MDNI

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

“hm? ain’t no guy ever make ya squirt before?” he grunts. and you’re just absentmindedly being stuffed, both of your wrists gripped back with toji holding onto them, his strokes were mean and demanding. your head continued to thump and bounce against the soft silk pillow that rested underneath your head. all you could make out was a sweet pathetic ‘nuh-uh’ and toji raises his thin eyebrows in amusement. “no baby…? not even once?”

“no- don’t think i can, i tried myself but…”

he snickers. “silly girl. trust me, you can squirt,” you bit your lip, eyes nearly rolling back from his jagged thrusts, its so good you nearly feel drool start to run down the corners of your mouth, how embarrassing it was—yet you remained stupid from his dick, feeling the warmth of your pussy clench tight against him. “want me to test it out?”

“yeah,” you whine, your voice was a mere soft mewl, an almost mumble practically, and toji gifts your ass with a spank, eliciting a moan from your mouth. he grows cocky the minute a huh? leaves his mouth. so you correct yourself with a “y-yes.”

“….‘yeah’ what girl,” he groans, skimming his dark green eyes down to see how your body jerks underneath him. his weight lightly hovers against you, and he’s still got a firm grip with your wrists, having you pitifully tongue-tied. “taught you how to speak to me. so let’s try that again.”

arrogant bastard, what your thoughts originally said—making you purposely repeat yourself, but his cock always always made up for it.

“please,” you choke out, moaning from the way he deepens his thrusts just a tad bit, your mouth starts to water from the way your pussy twitches in content. “make me squirt toji. please. i wanna be messy for you.”

“aw that’s my girl,” he purrs, releasing his grip from your wrists, yet it remains still against your bare back, his thrusts snap against you to where a cute gasp leaves your lips. “but oh, you’ve been messy though, but there’s nothing wrong with that, princess,” he teases, such mockery escaping from his tone. “relax for me, yeah? you’ll feel it when it comes.”

“okay,” you moaned, your left cheek pressed up against the white sheets of the mattress. it was cute, your face being up against the bed as you’re being absolutely stuffed and pounded. you felt yourself tightening from the inside—a coil desperately awaiting to be snapped, a feeling you never knew you could feel, and you probably looked so dumb. “okay okay o-okay.”

you cutely kept sputtering, repeating and bracing yourself. toji brings a rough hand towards the back of your neck as he’s ramming his fat length from behind you, such thrusts has your body spasming and crying out for more, it feels like a orgasm being snatched away from you.

“give it to me, girl.” he grunts, giving your ass another mean spank. the immense build up. your legs judder continuously to where your mind goes blank like an empty canvas, empty..

“a-ah t-toji—!” you squeaked, and he’s so ruthless whenever it came to you, each time you try to sit up to turn around he shoved your head lightly back down, it’s so cute. “fuck, fuck. f-fuck, ‘s about to-” and a gasp interrupts your words the minute you squirt all down his shaft to his base, your sweet juices sheath and sheath all the way down and it’s so warm and hot.

the minute you end up squirting, your legs felt so weak, it just quavered and shook. “oh my g-god,” you sobbed, and he slows his sloppy thrusts against your cunt down—leaning up close to you, direct and personal. “there we go mama, my messy fuckin’ squirter,” he whispers, he’s pressed against your ass and wraps a few fingers around your neck. planting a kiss underneath your chin he murmurs. “you made such a mess. how’s it feel?”

“good. but feels w-wet toji.”

“eheh, well yeah girl, that’s kinda the point.” he snickers, playfully sinking his teeth into your neck, giving it a teasing nibble.

SUKUNA ☆ RYŌMEN

“hm? make you squirt huh? so greedy.. my fingering isn’t enough for you?” sukuna teases and you’re laid flat on your back with your legs lazily lifted up, more like he’s holding them up for you.

you moaned, feeling him slide a single digit in and out. he sneaks a wet kiss against your thigh before leaning in to press his lips against your pussy, tasting how sweet you were. “...kuna ‘m not greedy, just wanna see what it feels like, please..”

“you are greedy,” he grunts, giving your cunt a swift spank to make your legs twitch, “but sure thing.” he mutters, warm minty breath going against your clit. your head goes back and your mouth slightly opens and parts from the way he’s fingering you and eating you out. his lips latch and lock against your folds to make your eyes roll back. he was so filthy with his tongue let alone his fingers.

you sucked your teeth—feeling his two fingers push deep in and out, going past against that spot each time, instead of your eyes rolling you were practically crossed eyed.

“f-fuck, fuck, ‘s good ‘kuna...”

“i know. you keep saying that, dumb girl. quit talkin’ and start squirting.” and you lose count of how many mean slaps he gives your pussy. he’s so mean, yet found every few seconds to praise you and let you know how good you’re doing.

“h-hurry up and make me then.”

“little girl, watch it.” he grunts, gifting you a glare, his eyes pierce against yours before he sits up, spitting right on your pussy with a rough spat, he runs a single middle finger down your slit to snatch the tiny brat left in you. you meet eye contact and your slick was very much glistening his chin, being soaked with your sweetness.

your legs were so close, just the epitome of the word jittery with how it just shook, never once staying still. the stimulation he created with his tongue let alone his fingers, it had your mind boggled. “think ‘m getting close, f-fuck.”

“uh huh. fuckin’ bet you are.” he whistles in response—grabbing ahold of his dick and you let off a cute gasp at the way he swipes his throbbing leaky pre-swollen tip against your wetness. “look at that, princess.

so eager to jus’ swallow me up.” and he slowly makes his way inside your cunt, immediately your walls hug him as a response and you’re just at the very limit. “come on, let go for me. you dont gotta be shy around me, neither does this wet pussy.”

the minute you squirt…it’s embarrassing, sukuna only smacks about five deep thrusts against your cunt and you’re already making a mess all over his base. “s-so good.” you’d cry out, and he’s staring at you.

a grunt departs his lips before he leans in to kiss you, pulling out only to ghost his fingers against your clit.

“you’re such a nasty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, you moan—tasting your own slick that ran down his chin, the sharp edges of his teeth playfully nibbling down on your lip. his body heat against yours made you feel tingly and even more in such heat. “tell me you’re my nasty girl, baby.”

“i-i’m a nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you moaned.

he gives you a dead stare—and you whine once he slips two fingers inside your throbbing pussy.

“i’m your nasty girl, ‘kuna.” you rephrased, and a cocky grin forms on his lips.

“what a good obident girl. think i like you.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“you sure sweetheart?” he asks in a soft mumble, he has a wand in hand. the ringing of the toy rings against your ears as your legs were sprawled apart for him. “you want me to make you…squirt?”

“yes p-please, kento.” you nod, the cuteness bestowed upon your lips was beyond words to describe. the way your lip quivered, it was barely up a few notches yet you throbbed and throbbed. despite it only being a good ten minutes. you’re just a whimpering mess.

eager to touch yourself, you reach down to play with your pussy before he grabs it, kissing the back of your hand.

he chuckles. “oh baby…baby, gotta keep those hands to yourself if you want me to make you messy. okay? no touching.”

“s-sorry kento.”

“aw, don’t be sorry. squirt, princess.” he teases, a hum underneath his tone he was so gentle with you, with his touch yet your legs felt like they were pretty much about to give out.

the stimulation made your teeth nearly chatter, toes clench and your back nearly arching. he finds you to be so pretty like this. flat on your chest, drool running down your mouth against the pillow with your mind empty.

you hold in a moan, teeth lightly piercing down on your lip to help silence yourself from the immense pleasure, the overstim from just releasing had your chin just hovering over your arm.

“o-one more level kento.”

“more? it’s gonna be on four, dunno if my cute whiney princess can handle that.”

“p-please, need it. i wanna-”

you moan at the swift sound of nanami swiping a thumb across the vibrating toy feeling the impulses throb against your sweet cunt, indeed it now being a level higher from three and it’s so good you can just taste the urge to let yourself go.

the sudden feeling of his sneaking fingers to brush and slither against your puffy folds was just enough to send you to burst—your mouth slightly went agape, and you’re just stupid. “n-nanami.”

“so dumbstruck you said nanami instead of kento, such a sweet thing,” and you end up squirting the minute he rubs the toy in a circular motion—maneuvering it against you along with fingers to ghost and run alongside your achy pussy. “easy, ‘s okay. lie down on your chest. jus’ let go for me baby, yeah.”

“such a gorgeous girl,” he whispers in awe, leaning down to kiss your clit which turns to countless smooches, mwah after mwah and your legs were practically mush by now. “let me clean you all up with my tongue, ‘m your husband, least i could do. so relax for me, my love.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“oh? i’ve made you squirt before, no?” he cackles, leaning back against the headrest of the couch.

“no,” you whined, still getting over your post-orgasm, his cock stood firm inside of you, such inches of his kept you warm with your hands pressed against his chest. geto stares at you with intrigued darkened eyes. having you sat on his lap, legs still barely recovered a few minutes ago. “don’t think you ever did...”

geto grips your waist, sliding a tongue across his lips before muttering in a sly coy tone. “mhm hmm,” and he’s so sassy, even having the audacity to roll his eyes at you. black specks of hair trickle down and paint the lower half of his body. geto’s happy trail was always appetizing to look at.

“this your little way of asking me to make you soak yourself on me, angel? how cute.” he grins.

“…sugu—” and you gasp at the way he grunts the minute the pads of his thumbs lightly press and pierce into your skin. he starts making you bounce against him and your mouth opens, such lewd whines exit your lips before you throw your arms around his neck.

“wanna squirt, do it yourself. fuck me baby. show me how bad you want it,” and he groans how he’s so stuffed. so full of cum still, hefty base pounding and thwacking back against your pussy. “you’re a big girl. do it y-yourself, mhm…shit.”

he was so teasingly sly, making you rut yourself against him, in the end you always had to do pretty much everything yourself whenever it came to geto.

“…okay,” you choked out, and he playfully leans back — tiny beads of sweat running down the side of his forehead as well as the very middle part of his chiseled v-line.”

it felt so good, you’re dumbly grating your teeth together, still so sensitive, the only cacophony that left your lips was cute whimpers of, “s-sugu,” “…want you s’bad,” and even, “you’re so mean.”

he chuckles at how dumb you grew out to be simply from being stuffed full of thick inches of his dick. “gotta be mean to deal with a pussy this wet.”

his girth had you running for your money, toes clinching as you started to rollick and jerk your hips against him, reaching a hand down to play with yourself before you whine. “f-feel it, suguru.”

“yeah? what are you waitin’ for then?” he purrs.

he chuckled at the sudden moments where you’d grow quiet — he knows how good he’s getting underneath your skin with his vexatious teasing.

his cock expanded in and out the more you moved your hips against him, your soft breaths getting caught in your throat before it comes, you squirt at the same time geto came and he’s caught off guard by the sticky messy feeling, he’s the one who slips off a whine. “s-shit..”

it came out a lot…

let alone with him soaking your cunt full of his own, you really felt stuffed and full to the very depths of it, it felt like a sharp coil within you snapped. geto starts panting, and he takes a moment to blink before grunting, staring away with a flustered face. “don’t look at me. finish fucking me, hmph.”

SATORU ☆ GOJO

“pretty please, ‘toru,” you’d whine out, and he was just straight up cocky and mean, teasing you with having you on all fours, impatient and desperately desperate. “i wanna…wanna squirt.”

“i know you do,” he laughs, playfulness ran all over his tone before he gives your ass a squeeze. that earned a needy moan out of you and you but down on your lip while staring at the fat sheets of the mattress underneath you. “are you asking me to make you squirt or are ya tellin’ me, pretty girl?”

he was so infuriating. even while being plugged in with so much of his thick inches, even just barely with the way he kept swiping his fat tip against your slit, awaiting you.

“….‘m asking, s-satoru.”

he whirrs a playful tone before flipping you over on your back to face him, and then he smiles. “okay. if that’s what you want,” and his voice was so low—a tad bit raspy with pompous smugness all over his sentences. “since i know how impatient ‘n horny you are all the damn time, i’ll make ya squirt in about one minute.”

a minute?

was that even possible—you always heard about how it would take at least longer than that but then you remembered who you were dealing with. gojo satoru and his long pretty fingers that never failed to stretch your pussy out. he was forever proud of that fact, he’d make you soaking wet from not only his dick, his mouth, but especially his fingers.

“it’s gonna get messy, ‘m warning you,” he teases, pulling you up a bit to place a towel down underneath your back. he leans in to pepper kisses underneath your chin before seconds later, he moves his length aside with a grip — before slowly stuffing a single long finger inside, which after a few milliseconds, turns into another. “now, i’m gonna need you to be a good wet girl and jus’ relax for me.”

his words were soothing. you could hardly comprehend anything so his sentences went straight towards your clit, throbbing and throbbing you wanted more. he finds it cute how you grip onto his wrist, babbling about how you don’t want him to stop. “o-okay, satoru. okay.”

you shudder at the feeling of him grazing a thumb down your slit and he moves his head down between your legs to blow softly against your pussy and you moan, feeling him create a good amount of pressure to where you bare down against his fingers easily as if it came natural.

“sweet girl,” he groans, giving your pussy a kittenish suck. your eyes went back in pleasure and you whined at the feeling of his two fingers just smacking in and out of you now. the noises, they were so loud you could hardly even believe it was coming out of you. “hear how wet this sloppy pussy is? yeah girl, that’s you.”

his words that went through your ear and out the other and it got you so wet. his degradation had you pulsing, you felt the inside of your tummy tighten, muscles clenching with you lying down on your back, bracing yourself. gojo was patient with you, occasionally bringing soft kisses towards your clit. you whined before he started to grow more feral, sucking and latching his tongue against your folds while still having two fingers stuffed inside your pussy.

your brain doesn’t even process you’re squirting before gojo lets off a, “oopsie,” the minute you squirt out on his fingers, the front tips of his fingers massage and toy and prod against that spot you always grew to know—and you moan at the way he easily stole a orgasm from you like that, within a single span of a minute.

“aw. you look like you just saw your life flash before your eyes, baby,” then he sits up to face you. both arms pressed around you before muttering in a teasing tone, “want a taste? open your mouth.”

and he gives you the most sloppiest kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat before grunting, you moan in his mouth. your legs wrapped around his slim waist before he squeezes a hand down on your pussy only to spank it roughly, breaking away for a bit before whispering, “good girl. now gimme one more. wanna see if i can do it within thirty seconds.”

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“b-baby…you wanna do that?” choso mumbles, staring in awe as the both of you watched some random eight minute compilation of women squirting. he was staring intently, and then he only grew more flustered at picturing you like that. legs all spread, eyes rolled back and maybe your tongue stupidly lolled out. “um.. squirt?”

“yes…” you nodded, sitting on his lap. he throbbed behind you, still a bit tingly from his recent orgasm of fucking you.

you pressed against his back and his chin cutely rests against your shoulder. choso’s always been a bit inexperienced whenever it came to well, women. he’s had sex sure….but he doesn’t think he’s ever made a girl do this, this thing called squirting. not until you brought it up.

the more he watched it, the more he moaned to himself at imagining you being all messy like that.

“okay baby, i can do it,” he murmurs in a soft voice.

he brings a hand between your legs and pries it open just a bit, “lie back,” he moans, seeing your legs sprawl open slowly for him made him lick his lips, he was so hungry for you. you had the phone in your hand so he could watch, imitate the exact ways to make a woman squirt with ease and it was so cute how attentive he was. “s-stimulate the um…g-spot a little like this,” he mumbles to himself, and you moan once he slowly inserts two slender long fingers inside your pussy, you were so wet he lets off a cute, “o-oh….”

his eyes multitasked, turning its focus towards you and the screen that played the lewd video at the same time. “like that c-choso, please.”

“i’m doing a good job?” he says, and it’s almost into a form of a whine. all because he’s so desperate to hear your praise and approval, he feels his stomach flip in a good way at feeling you nod against his chest, affirming him to not stop. “okay, okay,” he mutters. “add a little um…p-pressure, consistent pressure until you feel a spongey like texture deep towards the clit.”

you moaned, his words matched his fingers, you tried to squeeze your thighs together but remembered you couldn’t because they were open.

your head rested back against his chest and with a right hand squeezing down onto his thigh, you felt your leg start to bounce. “m-more.”

“don’t wanna rush this baby,” he kisses the back of your forehead. a small pout going across your lips before he continues, pausing to hear the voice on the video that’s instructing speak.

he leans against your ear, strands of his hair poking against you before he murmurs. “bare against my fingers princess. squeeze down a little ‘n relax. can you do that?”

you choke out a moan once you obey his words, doing exactly what he says before you feel a sudden rush reaching out, you never felt this feeling before such a high you craved and chased you felt dizzy, a good kind of a dizzy.

“c-choso, ‘s coming, ‘s coming,” you moaned, your legs not able to hold themselves still. he has a perfect bowling ball grip with his fingers, stroking gently against you to where your mouth salivates with your own saliva.

“…fuck,” you sobbed, the warmth of him massaging his long fingers inside of you made you taste every number of tastebuds that resided on your tongue.

the moment you gush out and squirt, coating his fingers clean of your sheeny pretty slick, you flop back against his chest and you can ever hear a tiny gasp leave his lips. “w-wow,” he whispers in shock — with how much you squirted, he was so fascinated, growing more and more curious and it was adorable. “can you…can we do that again? please?”

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oceantornadoo · 3 months

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protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley wife #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #ex husband ghost #fluff

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fitzfunnymoments · 7 months

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Forgot to mention I finally watched end of evangelion and MAN </3

#fitz's cursed thoughts #like. I sqw THAT scene at the beginning (if you know you know) and was like GOD I'm going to hate this </3 #< the hospital scene if anyone was curious (I felt myself whither away when that happened like GOD was that necessary </3)#< also the part where misato kisses shinji THAT was totally unnecessary too and ruined her character for me #which sucks because I lioed her a lot :(#ANYWAY I ended up liking it besides those two scenes #literally as soon as the third impact staryed and komm susser tod started llaying I got emotional #and then the part where gendo says he never deserved to be loved THAT is when I full on sobbed lol #like. I ha e never seen anyrhing (movie show etc) display and put into words everything I struggle with like this #like??? feeling like I don't deserve love while also wanting nothing but to be loved??#being terrified of everyone leaving me??? struggling to trust people and let them ve close to me???#GOD I was literally crying </3 #okay i had a lot more thoughts on this but basically I liked it and I am insane forever because of it <3

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tojipie · 6 months

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toji x crybaby reader <3

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !

˚ ✧ ───────────

toji is a flawed man.

short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.

he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear.

you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.

his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.

he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.

you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him.

he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.

it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.

it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?

he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge.

instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.

you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands.

physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.

his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.

toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.

you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul.

he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words.

“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours.

“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”

and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.

he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over.

the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.

you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.

toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start.

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shencomix · 3 days

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Recently I decided to go to my local fighting game tournament.

Here's how it went.

I had been getting pretty good at Guilty Gear over the past few weeks, to the point where I was getting the input correctly for the Potemkin Buster 1 out of every 4 or 5 times I tried it. So I thought "I might not be the best yet, but, surely good enough for my local" -- and I decided to go.

It took place at a the comic & games store in the town center. The venue was full of people 10-15 years younger than me and even more drastically cooler. They all turned to glare at me as I walked through the door, but as I stood completely motionless like a gazelle hoping to blend into the grassland, their gazes slowly returned to each other and they continued to banter friendlily.

I sat down next to me first opponent, and reached out to shake their hand. They looked down at my hand, and then up at my eyes slowly.

"You're supposed to do that at the end of the match."

"Oh, s-sorry"

I got perfected twice and lost the match. At the end, I reached out again to shake their hand, but they just stood up and walked away.

Because I lost, I got moved down to the loser's bracket, which was literally below the main tournament because it took place in the basement of the comic shop. I could hear footsteps, cheering, and happy conversation in the floor above. Here in the loser's bracket though, the mood was a lot more somber.

My next opponent reminded me a little bit of me. They were equally nervous and disheveled looking. They said "Um, h-hello" and reached out their hand for a handshake as they saw me approaching. I said "you're s-supposed to do that at the end of the match." But as a look of deep sadness came over their face and they slowly put down their hand, I pulled them in for a hug.

I'm not sure why I did that.

I think that some part of me knew that, in this dark, dank, alien place, illuminated only by a single failing ceiling light and the neon glow of a few arcade machines, I had at last found a friend -- someone I understood, and who might understand me too.

They hugged back.

I lost that match by a very narrow margin, and as they jumped up and began dancing around and cheering ecstatically, I began to hate them. This was no friend of mine. A friend would not do this to me. After they were done dancing, they reached out to shake my hand. After a few seconds of pause, I stuck out my hand too, but didn't look at them and refused to close it around theirs as they grasped it. They shook my karate chop.

I thought that at that point, since I had lost and then lost in loser's bracket, I was free to go home. But one of the tournament organizers approached me and informed me that I was going down to sub-loser's bracket in the sub-basement of the store, and pointed me towards a descending staircase.

The people there were fewer, and it was darker. I could faintly hear sobbing in one of the corners, but as I went to investigate, another participant put his hand on my shoulder. He furrowed his brow in a look of pain and shook his head slowly.

"You can't do anything for them."

In sub-loser's bracket I went up against a man in a suit whose face was cloaked in shadow. He spammed May's dolphin move. I lost.

As I went to go back upstairs, one of the tournament organizers held out her palm to stop me, and pointed towards a staircase leading further down instead.

Going down through the levels, I lost to many interesting participants. One player played exclusively by bashing the controller against his face. One player was a mushroom with a few circuit cables clipped onto it, that I later learned was able to play because its bioelectrical signals got sent to a machine that interpreted them as fighting game inputs. One player didn't touch their controller at all, but instead just told me their life story, which was so tragic that I picked up their controller and won for them.

Finally, at the very bottom floor, where construction standards were long abandoned and the stairs and walls were just messily carved out of the earth's stone, I faced my final player. It was a small bit of metal framework, with a controller nestled in it. On it was a tiny piston that just pressed the jab button exactly once every second. I lost.

I hung my head for a moment, then said "close game" and stuck my hand out for a handshake, before remembering that I had played against a metal framework cube with a piston in it and retracting my hand slowly. Then I heard a slow clapping from the darkness.

"No neutral. No footsies."

Out of the darkness slowly walked a woman about my age, clad in a decorative poofy dress that looked more expensive than my entire life savings. She smiled at me warmly, continuing to clap slowly, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"No meter management. No mixups. No spacing. No learning. No strategy…

…You're perfect."

"Wh-what?"

"You're perfect. I absolutely must have you."

"Have me for…um…for what…"

(Her eyes went wide as her smile grew more manic.)

"WHY, MY MORON FAILSON HAREM OF COURSE."

"Um, I-I"

"Tell me, what do you do for a living? Let me guess, you work at a fast food restaurant? Or, retail?"

"No, I'm a--I'm a comic artist."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Oh my god, you are PERFECT. What will it take to get you."

"To-to ge--"

"You would be well taken care of, of course. 3 Michelin star dining for every meal. Only the finest, softest sweatpants and sweatshirts, pre-stained with whatever flavor of Takis your little heart desires. You would have access to the entire mansion except for the main foyer when I'm in business calls, and you could make all the comics and play all the fighting games you want."

"I'm uh--"

I knew that I had to think fast here.

"I'm already i-in a moron failson harem."

"Oh, DARN IT!! TELL ME, WHO IS IT??? WHO GOT YOU??"

"I-I think I'm not allowed to s-sa--"

She stomped her foot petulantly, her shoe clacking against the stone floor.

"WAS IT SHUXUAN?? IT'S ALWAYS SHUXUAN HOGGING ALL OF THE GOOD ONES."

"I-I'm sorry," I blurted out, shuffling along the wall to make a wide radius around her and then running up the staircase.

As I got home and began making my standard dinner of Trader Joe's microwave falafel, I thought about her offer. Maybe I should have taken her up on it after all. A 3 Michelin star meal right now wouldn't be so bad.

Then I hopped on Guilty Gear and lost 22 matches in a row.

#shen comix

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tripably · 9 months

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#it's been a while since i've seen such a nightmare that i've woken up and actually cried #but i guess all good things must come to an end #details of my nightmare? i had a stalker #that's it #literally nothing even happened #except that i woke myself up when the stalker was behind my kitchen window #in the dream my fiance was home as well and i cried out to him before waking myself up #then my awake-brain proceeded to imagine all kinds of bad follow-ups to the dream???? thanks sweetie #like what would have happened if my fiance confronted the stalker #or what if the stalker came when i was home alone #should i lock myself in the bathroom and call the police?#could i do that if the stalker came inside our house and was standing on the other side of the bathroom door?#should i run to our neighbors?#and what if they weren't home?#so i got up and went to get a glass of water except now i was scared of my own home #because what if i do have a stalker #went back to bed and proceeded to sob into my fiance's chest #i have no idea where that dream came from #and i'm kind of considering closing all the curtains in the house

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rowarn · 9 months

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everyone stop what you're doing i just had an idea of simon who likes to edge himself.....omg....

afab!reader, no prns, edging obvi, ruined orgasm, simon being selfish <3 not edited oof

when he's fucking you, hips pumping in a rhythm that basically melts your brain. he's got you pinned beneath him in a press, legs spread obscenely wide so your knees are against the bed. he's got you stuck there under his massive weight. you can't do anything but stare up at him with wide eyes as he fucks you.

he looks so good above you, muscles flexing with every movement and his dark eyes lidded with pleasure that he's getting from working his fat cock into your dripping little cunt.

"fuck, that's good," he groans, blunt nails biting into the tender skin under your thighs, "feels so fuckin' good 'round me, love."

you clench around him at the sound of his voice and the corner of his lips twitches up at the blatant, shameless reaction you have to him. he brings one hand up to his mouth, meeting your eyes in a heated stare as he licks the pad of his thumb, quickly bringing it down to press against your swollen clit -- twitchy and sensitive from neglect since he'd just settled for fucking you so far.

"you gettin' close?" he practically coos, making you whimper. the sound goes straight to his cock and god, he loves the sounds you make, "yeah, i know, pretty thing...i treat you real good, don't i?"

you're tightening up around him and he practically feels the breath punch out of his lungs. you're getting close; he's learned all your tells by now. the way your back arches and your mouth open as you whimper his name. you get wetter and wetter, gooey cunt making a nice little mess for him to fuck into. it makes lewd, squelching noises as he sinks balls deep with a slow roll of his hips.

"s-so close, simon!" you cry out, blindly reaching your hands down to press against his hips.

you always do that -- it's adorable. you actually think that'll stop him from sinking deep, deep inside. his cock knocks against your back well, the little pang of pain making your body twitch. usually, he bats your hands away just to be mean and watch you whine. you really think your trembling hands would be enough to stop the powerful movements of his hips.

he's close to his own end. his cock throbs the closer he gets with every deep thrust he gives you. both of you racing to your ends -- it would be so sweet to cum together, he thinks.

but he knows that's not going to happen.

it's his favorite thing to do. he just can't explain what it is he loves about it.

just when his orgasm starts to crest he pulls his cock free from the hot clutch of your cunt. he feels a little bad, he knows you had just fallen over the edge as he did -- leaving you nothing to cum around, little pussy clenching and cumming all empty and no pleasure from it. a sob tears free from your chest and the sound goes straight to his cock. you squirm under his weight as he watches his own cock twitch against your drooling cunt from his own denial, willing himself not to cum untouched at the sight of you cryin' for him. he closes his eyes and waits for his orgasm to wane before he looks at you again.

"simon..." you practically wail in despair, drawing his gaze up to your face. and fuck, you're so sweet for him.

your eyes are teary and he clicks his tongue, "sorry, love...that was mean of me, huh?"

you nod your head, pouting up at him. despite the ruined orgasm, you're still sensitive enough to twitch beneath him when he sinks his cock back into you with a swift grind of his hips.

"let me make it up to you, yeah?"

your sweet, trusting eyes makes his heart melt and he almost feels bad. almost.

because he knows for the rest of the night, he's going to be edging himself using your pretty little pussy until he finally decides he's ready to cum. and he's not going to care if you actually properly cum or not, because this is gonna be about him using you.

by the end of the night, his cocks so hard that it fucking hurts. he'd edged himself more times than he could count, the more he did the less time he got in between. he started simply dipping his length into you and pulling it right back out, eyes rolling at the sticky strings that connected the head to your clenching hole.

"please, simon...please, please, please..." you're breathlessly begging. he has no clue if you'd even properly cum the entire night, he had practically entered a trance and become a mindless beast thinking only with his cock. theres tears on your cheeks, dried and new and the sight is so lovely that he wants to take a picture and keep it on him at all times.

he finally takes mercy, however. your pretty little clit is so swollen and he just has to press his fingers against it. it's so sensitive that you almost immediately start cumming -- this time around his cock, he makes sure of it.

you pull him over the edge with you, letting him dump a nice, hot load into your pussy while you cum nice and hard around him.

when you sag into the bed and sniffle, cutely reaching out for a hug, he can't help but press a kiss against your forehead <3

#i would like to issue a formal apology #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #cod x reader

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tojisun · 2 months

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!! nsfw; poly 141 ; sexting; fem reader

price gets a video, a measly six-second thing, from ghost.

he's used to getting all sorts of messages from his lieutenant, but a video has never been a part of them.

it was always soap who sends them videos upon videos—saved videos of things that make him lose his shit or links that are his new turn-ons. price even gets personal messages from the fella; sometimes it's his sergeant venting in lilted scottish, sent to price's personal number on a drunken whim, and sometimes they're videos of him pleading.

"sir, please... wanna cum."

kyle is still getting used to the dynamic. he's still a little shy, hesitant, although he seemed to be getting more bold in text. more pushy. descriptive.

then there's ghost. he is a whole different beast from the other two because instead of begging, instead of putting price above his own pleasure, he backs the captain into a corner, pushing him close to the edge with little taunts and teases.

price remembers the first time ghost has done it. he sent the captain a picture of a lacey panties hanging off of ghost's jean pockets, the rouge of the soft material drawing price's eyes to the distinct tent in his lieutenant's pants, leaving his throat dry. he remembers fisting his own cock at the image, mind running because of ghost's anecdote—

"you would like her."

john had never cum so fast when masturbating, and yet there he was, twitching on his office chair, chest heaving as ragged rasps of breaths passed through his clenched teeth.

"your girlfriend's got a good taste," price had messaged back.

"and me?" was what ghost replied with.

"you already know," price sent. then, "you always know how to make your captain proud."

that correspondence might have been what pushed ghost to keep sending more messages. more taunts. more teasing images that had price rubbing himself in any smidgen of a private corner he could find because simon was never one to disappoint.

so this video had set john's blood on fire, heat scorching from his spine and pooling towards his twitching cock. hairline fractures fill the sides of his phone's screen, leaving rainbow lines filing his eyes at every reflection of the light.

ghost had always liked to share you to him. price knew for a fact that simon had never sent pictures of you to the others—"need your permission first, sir."—but he also thought that simon had drawn the line there. that while he was eager to share snapshots of your pretty little lingeries or the way you marked up simon's tanned skin with deep punctures of what john knows must be straight teeth, simon was not going to indulge john any more.

and yet.

he feels his lungs burn. trembling fingers reach to play the video.

the sound of your squealed moans bouncing against the walls was what he registers first. ghost has you on your knees, and john traces the way simon's got a chokehold on the back of your neck. john watches as ghost uses it as a leverage, tugging you back to his cock—his pelvis is pressed flush against the fat of your ass, and price feels his gums throb with the need to sink his teeth into your flesh at seeing the ripples of your fat bunch up against the bulk of simon's muscles.

"si! si!" you sobbed, muffled as you have your head burrowed into the pillows. your hands are useless by your sides, limp and incapable of even fisting the sheets.

"s'right," simon's voice echoed from behind the screen. "show cap'n how you love moanin' my name."

simon's mention of john has him jolting, his breaths stuttering once again.

he thought this little thing they have was a secret. a dirty, little, desperate secret that only he and ghost had the privilege of knowing. the immorality of it had always pushed john to his orgasm faster than his every rub, and he thought that it would all change the moment you know.

but this is a better treat.

it's a feast.

because john sees it for what it is—a promise.

the video ends, reminding john how short it really was. but he is addicted, unable to let go now that he's been given a taste of what will be.

the next time he replays the video, he's got his erect cock in his hand.

he snaps a picture of his cum-filled palm and sends it to simon. he writes, "show her what she does to me."

it takes twenty-three seconds for simon's reply to come in. it isn't a message but a voicenote—"am i a good girl, cap'n?"

"yeah," john records himself say. "so, so good f'r us, doll."

—

sorta pt 02

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #john price x reader #john price smut #john price x simon riley #cod smut #suns #im so active today because i dont wanna do my shit ogmrwoipw

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