Dilf!Osamu Who’s Unsure Of What To Do For Your First Valentine’s Day Together. Who Doesn’t Mind

Please the way you fed me with that Eremin ask I'm so full!!!! Ugh, I love jealous bratty Armin and dom Eren so much. If you do end up writing more I always have room for dessert 👀

I just came from a great chair class and I'm feeling good so let's go—

happy eating, anon @ringpop-poppy @johnsrevelation

Eren means it when he says he loves both of his babies equally. He loves the punishing pucker of his baby boy's ass and he loves the warm, sucking silk of his honey's pussy. So Eren absolutely means it when he looks down at his baby girl, who's sobbing hysterically from the overstimulation, and the feral bare of Aremin's teeth, and says that he doesn't know who looks better. Fuck, he's sure that this is will seared in his memory permanently. The drooly gape of your mouth, Armin's urgent grunting, and the damp slap of skin almost seems to be happening in slow motion, with Eren's cock thrusting up into Armin as the impetus of it all.

"Doesn't our honey's pussy feel good, baby boy?" Eren growls into Armin's ear, eyeing the way your arousal has slicked all the way Armin's nipples. "Doesn't it make you wanna lose your mind?"

"Yeah," Armin grits out, thumbing your nipples and grinning at the way you twitch and gasp helplessly. "Ugh, yeah, fuck this pussy, Daddy, fuck our pussies."

Eren swears, and snaps his teeth against Armin's shoulder. "Squeeze baby girl's throat, choke this bitch out."

Your eyes fly open as Armin fists the base of your throat hard, and your pussy squeezes so naughty and nasty that Armin sucks in a breath like he's been the one choked out and jerks his cock back. It still doesn't matter—you're outright drooling and crying as you cum for the umpteenth time, and Armin finally, finally blows his load, babbling a garbled chant of "fuck, fuck, fuck, oh daddy, pussy, pussy, pussy so nasty, fuckkk—"

Eren's ass flexes five, six, seven more times before he shoves hard at Armin's back, cumming in him with a victorious hiss. "See? Always listen to Daddy."

mhm

the cakes turn out gorgeous: for the team, an airy almond chiffon cake with blackberry-lime curd and a dreamy raspberry swiss meringue buttercream and for the training staff, a nutty sesame olive oil with a blackberry-shiso jam, and salty swiss meringue buttercream. for the female-led and hired social media team, a lush devil's food cake with raspberry coulis and and an espresso buttercream, and finished with fresh flowers for a touch of style. the cakes are set up on display for everyone to ooh and ahh after, and for the last time, you check over the exact headcount of guests before the cakes are rolled back into the make shift assembly space to be portioned out and served.

the staff members protest when you insist on helping them serve the cake, saying that they couldn't ask you to do even more than everything you've already done, but you wave them away with a smile.

"i really love seeing people eat my cake," you beam a little harder than you really need to. "you can't imagine the joy i feel whenever i get to see it."

the second you step into the dining area where everyone is sitting after the banquet dinner, your eyes start scanning across the room for the guy. that one, beefy, surly looking guy.

and there he is, at the mixed staff table, sitting between an older bearded man and a man with wildly spiky hair. you paste a cheerful smile on your face, and roll your cart right over, setting down slices of cake for each person.

when you come around to him, his eyes are wary. good. the prick recognizes you.

"h-hello," you force a timid tremor in your voice and smile as nervously as you can. his brows furrows. "w-would you like a s-slice of sesame oil c-cake, or a different cake?"

"sesame," he says tersely, and you make a show of flinching and forcing a tight smile.

"of course, r-right away!"

"i know iwa-san's face can be a little scary," the spiky haired man sitting next to him pipes up with an easy going smile. "but there's no need to be intimidated by him. he's a nice guy."

you push out a high little laugh. "ah, yeah, i'm - i'm sure he can be. i ran into him in the hallway, and he, uh. he can really raise his voice."

the social media girls sitting at the end of the table look up from their conversation, while the bearded man frowns. the spiky haired man raises a brow.

"oh?"

"oh, but it was an extenuating circumstance, i would never blame him!" you exclaim. "he was handling two guys who weren't feeling well, so I'm sure he was just caught up in the heat of the moment."

"that's-!" iwa sputters indignantly. "you were-!"

"ah, wrangling those boys gets the better of us all at some point, iwazumi-kun," the bearded man claps his shoulder sympathetically. "you should take care to rest well, especially now that the year is over. have some cake."

"she-" he sputters, feeling utterly accused. you blink at him, innocent as a lamb, and set down his slice.

"i hope y-you like it, iwaizumi-san," you simper. his eyes narrow at you, gripping his fork and stabbing the cake with more force than necessary.

"is it good?" you ask, eyes gleaming with hope. the bearded man smiles at him encouragingly, and the spiky haired man sits back, watching with some measure of amusement.

"it is," he swallowed, forcing a smile that looks like someone is pointing a gun at his head. "it's very good."

"well, i'm glad," you smile. "i love it when people enjoy eating my cakes."

meet ugly with iwaizumi hajime athletic trainer where you’re catering the dessert table at the Olympic Training Center's End of Year Celebration. You’re covered up to your elbows in swiss meringue buttercream, iwaizumi is wrangling two drunk volleyball players about to vomit all over him, and there’s only one available bathroom left to use.

your eyes and his meet from either end of the hallway - he can clearly see you're covered in buttercream and you can clearly see two gigantic men being wrangled like puppies by the backs of their shirts, both slurring happily about how much they love volleyball and how much they love each other, bro.

in the center of the hallway, equidistant from either one of you, is the door to the only unoccupied sink on the first floor of the building.

of all the men in the world you would normally be willing to pick a fight with, a surly looking athletic trained with flexing biceps is not the first one you would choose to tangle with. but between your mixer dying on you, the two previous batches of buttercream that split on you, and the gigantic celebration cakes for the team, staff and the social media team still waiting to be frosted, you're willing to take your chances.

"hey!" he barks in shock, as soon as he realizes you're booking it to the door. Atsumu and Bokuto make alarmingly queasy sounds when he starts running in earnest to get to the door before you. "hey, stop! seriously?"

bokuto squawks, when Iwaizumi bodily swings his limp body across the threshold of the door, eyes narrowed at your buttercreamed hand just beginning to pull the door handle.

"pardon me," he says, low and deadly serious. "but i have two sick idiots about to blow chunks all over the walls."

"i have buttercream in my hair," you huff, eyes narrowed. "and three unfinished cakes waiting for me. i get you're in some sucky shit, but work trumps pukey people."

"urgh, iwa-san," atsumu mutters, strained, his forehead beading with sweat. "i think i'm gonna be sick."

"hold it in, you little bastard!" iwazumi barks, before turning back to you. "come on, can't you just wait 10 minutes?"

"i'm already running behind on my cooling and setting schedule," you snap back. "and i'll literally be done within in, like, two minutes!"

bokuto groans, hands coming up to hold his belly. "oh, man. i don't think i can wait 5."

iwaizumi gives you a sharp look. "you want shit and puke on the carpets?"

"you want to fuck with my job?"

"i don't give a damn if your cakes come out late!" he snarls. "frankly, it sounds like you have bad time management skills."

"and you sound like you can eat my ass!"

at that moment, atsumu lurches forward, hand slapping over his face as he shoves past the two of you and steps over bokuto. before the door even closes, you can already the retching sounds of him vomiting into a toilet.

"oh shit, i'm gonna shit myself," bokuto mutters, pushing up onto his hands and knees, drunkenly crawling on all fours as he pushes open the door.

"oi! bokuto, at least stand up!" iwaizumi shouts, only to get a vaguely panicked "no way, man, it's about to come out!"

Iwaizumi gives up, rubbing his forehead and counting slow breaths, almost as if he's completely dismissed the fact that you're even there.

spite is like acid on the back of your tongue.

fine. fine. you're not unwilling to recognize when you've been defeated. but this is not how you go out against this guy.

i’ve been doing my homework on how to break into a writing career and honestly. there’s a Lot that i didn’t know about thats critical to a writing career in this day and age, and on the one hand, its understandable because we’re experiencing a massive cultural shift, but on the other hand, writers who do not have formal training in school or don’t have the connections to learn more via social osmosis end up extremely out of loop and working at a disadvantage. 

omg but supportive!Iwa who loves that you love pole, but puts his foot down when he thinks that you're over-training. Your health and safety are paramount to this man, so when he welcomes you home with a hug and you wince, experimentally rolling your shoulder in large circles and grimacing, he goes from boyfriend to Team Japan's Olympic Trainer Doctor of Sports Medicine. Immediately bans you from any sort of pole or conditioning, glaring you into submission while he wields ice packs wrapped in old rags and all but funneling BCAAs and collagen peptides down your throat.

Gives you a thorough nightly rub down, thumbs digging into your muscles firmly, but gingerly probing at your knees, hips, and shoulders in case of injury. He has to admit, he really respects how you can take a lot more pressure and pain than most of the pro-athletes he works with as he rubs out knots in your hamstring and lats. Starts doing his own research on pole-related injuries and when he watches your videos, so he's prepared for any ache or strain you feel. He just loves you so much, how could he ever live with knowing that you were hurting and he could help?

Sobbing. I want supportive boyfriend Iwa. Iwa who starts going through the muscle groups you’re working too and figuring out ways for you to condition them even when you’re not at class. Who regularly draws warms bubble baths for the two of you. Who jokingly asks when you’re going to return the favour of rubbing the kinks out of his body but always waves you off whenever you offer 🥺🥺🥺

i think it also means he's really into it when you do a lot of cute, domestic things. gets butterflies when he sees the laundry you've folded for your little household, and gets a little too excited when he finds you cooking or baking something yummy. loves it when you pack him a bento, and write him a little love note. he's a staunch feminist, so it embarrasses him a little when he realizes just how manly he feels when you cling close to him when weaving through a crowd together, or how important he feels when you watch him take his first few bites when you both have dinner together.

I think Iwa just really thrives in that traditionally masculine role. Just really to takes being a provider, protector, and pleaser. Def the kind of guy to touch his lady’s waist when he needs to skirt by her, and who gets up early to shovel your car out from the snow. Calls you at the supermarket when you ask him to pick up some groceries if he has a question about something on your list, and keeps an eye out for any interesting treats that you might like. Brings home flowers on the regular, and has a strict no checking work rule for the weekends because he values his quality time with you. Makes sure he’s always walking between you and the road, and stays eagle eyed for any unsavory figures. just a solid, dependable man.

promotional illustrations celebrating the release of the new official haikyuu!! illustration book + a bonus christmas-themed sketch from furudate-sensei

imagine being in the middle of Eremin, only Eren is initially the one who wants you. Armin feels a little affronted, because isn't he a good boy for daddy? Doesn't he bust it wide for Daddy every night, make Daddy feel good? Eren reassures him with hushed kisses and soft words that Armin is his baby boy and that he loves him, but Daddy's also falling in love with another girl and he really wants Armin to just give it a try. Just once. If baby boy doesn't love it, it's not on the table anymore and that'll be the end of that.

Armin who glowers at the sight of you, when Eren lets you in with a kiss and purr of "Hey, honey". You're staring at him with those big Bambi eyes, like you don't know what you're doing, but Armin knows in his heart that you're just a home-wreaking whore and hw'a only doing this just because Daddy wants it. It's not like his heart is beating harder at the way you and Eren are looking at each other, Eren's calloused hand rasping softly against your satiny skin. It's not like he's swallowing at the sight of you on Daddy's lap, mouths moulded together as the two of you pet and grind at each other sensually. It's not like he's hard at the sight of Eren's fingers down your underwear and the way your face twists up with mindless pleasure as Eren makes you come on his hand. It's not like he's panting and shaking with desire when Eren crooks a finger at him, and he crawls on all fours and eager licks your pussy juices off of Daddy's fingers with a low groan of satisfaction.

When you quietly plead for Daddy's dick and Eren beckons you over, Eren gives Armin an amused, taunting sort of look that has Armin's balls tightening and his belly burning with shame and he can only watch, livid as Eren works his cock into your glistening cunt. He tells himself that he's not jealous of the noises you're making, or the noises that Daddy's making, or the way your pussy squelches deliciously with every thrust.

Who eventually bullies himself between the two of you, shoving you away as he sits himself down on Eren's cock, hot and demanding. "No," he says at you, imperiously. "I'm Daddy's favorite pussy."

Your lower lip trembles and you look at Eren with a sort of fragile uncertainty that has Armin feeling only a little bit bad. Eren chuckles lightly, but grips Armin's hips harder than usual, silently communicating his displeasure.

"Baby boy doesn't know how to share yet, honey," he says, thrusting up punishingly into Armin, who moans loudly in surprise. "He wasn't very nice to you, was he?"

"No," you whisper, looking up timidly through your lashes as Eren manhandles Armin onto all fours, who moans happily with his eyes closed at Eren's attention. The tight squeeze of Eren's fist around Armin dick is enough to have Armin's heart racing, but his eyes fly open when the tip of his dick kisses something warm and wet and soft. He stares down at you, realizing that Eren's positioned Armin directly above you, and is currently teasing the head of Armin's cock against your entrance.

"What—" Armin gasps, choking when Eren tightens his grip and swipes the flared tip right over your swollen clit. You cry out, and the combined noise and sensation are enough to make Armin's dick pulse urgently. "Daddy, Daddy, I—"

"You were mean to Honey," Eren says calmly, almost dispassionately, hand working sinister and irresistible on Armin's cock. "You didn't like watching Daddy fuck her?"

Armin wants to wail. "No! I'm Daddy's favorite! Daddy love my pussy best!"

"I love your pussy," Eren whispers in his ear, teeth catching on Armin's lobe, squeezing Armin's ass for good measure. "But you don't get to be mean to Honey like that. Not when she's been such a good girl. Make it up to her. Fuck her pussy like you want me to fuck your's. If you make her cum, Daddy will make you cum, too."

You and Armin can only stare at each other, wide-eyed and shocked, until Eren gives a crust thrust of his hips into Armin and forces Armin's cock in you. Armin immediately buries his face in your shoulder and screams with pleasure, and you wrap your arms around him, whining piteously.

"Daddy's not gonna repeat himself," Eren pants, squeezing the base of his cock at the sight of you two under him.

Armin scoops your thighs over his shoulders and immediately starts pounding at your pussy, dick pulsing and sweat beading at his brow. You're so slippery-silky wet, your muscles swallowing his cock up until he's ball-deep and your slick is dripping down his scrotum and down his legs. "Oh my god, I didn't—I didn't realize—" he babbles, half-garbled, as you're moaning so sweet in his ear.

"I can love your pussy and her pussy," Eren pants as he humps up against Armin's ass. "Both are so good, baby boy. See? Baby girl's pussy so tight, you're gonna put a whole kindergarten up in her. C'mon, put your back into it, make it good for her. Don't you wanna make it good for our baby girl?"

"Yes," Armin sobs, thrusting into you with a vengeance at Eren's words. His hips slap wet and sloppy against you, his entire abdomen with with your arousal, as you whine and buck up against him, straining to widen your legs and let him fuck even deeper. "Yes, yes, yes! Yes! Make baby girl feel good, make her cum!"

He presses his damp forehead to your's, kissing your mouth desperately. "Gonna make you cum, honey, gonna make it so good for you," he pants, rolling his his torturously slow and hissing at the way your face twists with pleasure and you start to whimper and squirm.

"Too much, too much—"

"Stop running from this dick," Armin growls, yanking you back underneath him, shoving your face into the bed and humping you from the back, as his other hand slithers down beneath your body and pats frantically at your clit. "Gimme this pussy, little brat, c'mon, be good girl, honey."

He fucks you until you scream and thrash and wet the bed, drunkenly rasping in your ear for you to squirt one more time, just one more time.

Eren yanks hims back, grabs Armin's pussy-slicked cock. "Good boy," he growls into Armin's cheek. "Good boy, making our honey feel good. You get to cum now."

But much to Eren's surprise, Armin wriggles out of his grip. "No," Armin grins, a little manic, as he hunches over where you're whining and sobbing, maneuvering you back onto your back, sinking back into the wet pout of your pussy, and offering his ass to Eren at the same time. You're nearly hysterical, already squirting weakly at just the thick stretch of Armin's cock and the press of his pubic bone against your clit.

"Use me to fuck baby girl, Daddy," Armin says, hungry and down-right evil.

And who is Daddy to refuse, after he started this whole mess?

i- i need to go touch g-g-grass

a writing competition i was going to participate in again this year has announced that they now allow AI generated content to be submitted

their reasoning being that "we couldn't ban it even if we wanted to, every writer already uses it anyway"

"Every writer"?

come on

Supportive!Iwa pt 3 because I just came from a great pole class ✌️

Iwa who tags along to one of your classes and is a little flustered when he walks in and everyone is dressed quite comfortably in underwear and booty shorts. He’s nervous about making any of the other women feel uncomfortable, but they all smile at him and wave (you told all your pole girls about him and they’re determined to make sure he has a wonderful class). Curiously follows along as you undress to just some boy shorts and a tank top, wash your hands with dawn soap, and apply your grip to your hands, inner arms, thighs, knees, shins, and feet. Who is fascinated by the pole-assisted stretches, the light core conditioning, and how attentive the teachers are to accommodate for any injuries. Who watches every move demonstrated closely, asking for a break down of the movements. Who has most of the muscles to do the moves, but whose skin isn’t tough enough and he nearly taps out over just the warm up fan kicks. Who can barely stop himself from swearing the first time he tries climbing the pole, and fails, only to watches in awe as you calmly ascend and simply sit, legs tucked neatly. Who finds himself totally gassed only 30 minutes in, his arms and fingers shaking. Who’s a little embarrassed, but pleased when he successfully completes an ugly fireman’s spin and all the girls in the class erupt into loud cheering. Who finds himself talking to the nearby girls, who give him tips about his grip, balance, and momentum. Who watches you twirl around gorgeously with some of the other girls, laughing and encouraging each other. Who leaves class feeling thoroughly worked, but immensely proud of you and all the skill you’ve accumulated. Who goes back home with you, makes you a delicious meal, and reminds himself to make a batch of the old protein muffins he made in college for himself, so you have a nutritious little post-class snack.

Omg the fact that you do pole classes is amazing and so very sexy because your core muscles must be insanely developed??? And I'm v jealous 😭😭 Iwa at a pole class though is so CUTE and adorable like he's sweating and swearing and very red-faced, but he tries so hard!!!!

And the bit about him making food foor after wahhhh please he would?! You know he started bringing them to the class too for you to share with all your friends and! He just!! He's the best!!!