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#mma fighters
sports-outsized · 21 days
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hombresexual2 · 1 year
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Ese torso...
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iamfrankie99 · 2 years
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Reason to Fight
by BambiSoup5lap
35k 7ch
Summary: Katsuki is constantly struggling to reign in his alpha instinct and his aggression. Kirishima brings him to a boxing gym where a breathtaking green-haired, green-eyed Omega is mercilessly beating a long list of Alpha contenders. He signs up immediately. Turns out, fighting is exactly up his alley, and in no time at all he is competing at professional level. His goal: becoming strong enough to win his omega over.
Frankie’s comment: Katsuki in this fic reminds me of a skittle. Hard on the outside and soft and fluffy on the inside. Like, he has this rough image and gruff voice and all of this anger and he is strong and ruthless when he fights…but he loves to cuddle, he treats Izuku like a king, like pure adoration, and he has strong values and …yeah, I totally fell in love with him again. Oh well, nothing new there😂😂😂 And Izuku is so cool, a real freaking badass😎
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tojipie · 5 months
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mma fighter toji? (im so happy tk see that you’re back btw ❤️)
i really do think this is the best ask i’ve ever gotten pls feel proud of ur brain before u go to bed tonight bc ily. wrote this on the verge of falling asleep if u see any spelling error no u did not.
mma fighter!toji x reader | 1k words
content: violence, injury, blood, reader objectified by stranger
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“you got it, you got—don’t fucking look at her, look at me fushiguro!” your boyfriend’s manager yells, holding a bucket to the younger man’s heaving chest with a sigh.
toji nods at the command, taking a swig of water and spitting into the vessel before wiping his mouth with an ungloved hand. fighters never drank in the ring, it’d only settle heavy in your stomach. make you easier to catch.
blood and saliva drip down his chin and onto the floor of the ring, bright red patters against black mesh.
you watch the veins in toji’s neck pulse underneath sweaty skin, decorated with swirls of black and grey ink. his tattoos extend down his chest and back, working to cover the mess of purple and blue bruises across his body.
on his rib lies a scrawl of your name, etched into his skin for millions to see every time he stepped into the ring.
the raven haired man says something unintelligible to his team before smacking his temple with his glove, almost as if he was trying to knock something back into place.
you cringe at the thought of a brain injury so early into his career. you’d heard stories before, world class fighters reduced to shells of themselves. shot memories, seizures, even paralysis. you try not to think too deeply about it.
the TV screens in front of you pan to across the ring to his opponent. ryomen sukuna, 2 years into his career with every title under the sun.
everything except heavyweight champion. the name belonging to the winner of this very match.
sukuna was terrifying, completely unfazed by the rivets of blood pouring from his temple and left nostril. you’d quite literally watched him pop his nose back into place during the first break after your boyfriend had dealt a serious blow to it. to say this man scared you was an understatement.
toji notices your anxiety, leaning against the mesh wall of the ring to look down at you in the front row.
“you watchin’?” he yells with a grin, barely coherent over the mixed sounds of cheers and boos.
you smile, though your boyfriend scowls at the onslaught of paparazzi trying to capture the tender moment. he spits at the see-through wall of the ring to serve as an unspoken “fuck you.” cheers ring out from the sidelines as the screens capture the interaction.
toji turns to you and pushes off of the mesh wall, throwing his hands out with a “tsk” and a shake of his head.
“you worried about me baby?” he teases, fully aware that the cameras are still on him. “you don’t gotta worry about me, right?.”
you laugh, motioning for security to shoo any onlookers off. the mix of adrenaline and attention was clearly getting to him, though you loved when he got cocky like this. he always fucked you hardest after a big win.
the two men settle back into the middle of the ring, the referee separating them with an stern arm. sukuna looks down at you with an unreadable expression, pinning you to your seat with just a glance. toji’s pink-haired opponent turns back to him with a sinister grin, taking out his mouthguard to speak clearly. you only manage to make out the end of his insult, blood running cold as his words register.
“..and after they give me that title? i might fuck that little girlfriend of yours, fushiguro.”
toji says nothing, expression blank. you begin to wonder if he even heard the other man, but the buzz signifying round 3 pulls you out of your thoughts. you brace for whatever may come next.
sukuna is a brick wall, but toji’s light on his feet, weaving in and out of punches with his gloves guarding his face.
he’s faster than usual, spurred on by adrenaline and anger.
he lands a kick to sukuna’s ribs, the sickening crunch reaching the front row right on impact. definitely two, maybe even three broke ribs you hear a fan spectate.
his opponent curses, landing two punches to his chest before knocking toji to the ground, just barely missing the raven haired man with a solid blow right as he springs upwards.
“you gonna fuck her?” toji scoffs, landing another kick to sukuna’s injured ribs. you can barely make out their conversation even with a front row seat, you doubt anyone in the stands has been able to understand them this whole time.
the pink-haired man winces on impact, his first show of weakness since the beginning of the match.
“huh? tell me.” your boyfriend muses, dodging a kick and throwing sukuna to the floor. cheers ring out in the stadium at the direct show of brutality, you cover your mouth in anticipation.
toji settles his body weight on the man below him, twisting his arm as far as it will go while keeping his face to the floor. his legs wrap around and under the second man, squeezing his injured ribs like a vice with his thighs.
sukuna lands a blow with his free arm, then another, then another. toji does nothing, holding his opponent down with a smile almost too wide, too sinister.
“fuck.. fuck!” sukuna yells, struggling under the weight of the man above him.
the crowd is in hysterics, the announcers are out of their seats. “an unprecedented burst of energy,” you hear them call it. nothing like they’d ever seen before during any of toji’s matches.
you have to fight off the ego boost it gives you, knowing he’s only fighting this hard for you. because another man dared to speak on your name in his presence.
toji takes a couple more punches with that same smile, finally grabbing his opponent’s free arm to render the other man motionless.
you stagger out of your seat, running into the isle to get a better view of the ring.
the referee crouches by the two men, waiting to call the match. sukuna shares a look with third man, groaning before tapping toji’s wrist three times.
the crowd is animalistic. screams, wails, jeers, all of it meshes together within seconds.
toji’s security forms a circle around you, leading you towards the ring as fans flood the isles in celebration.
that was it, he’d won the title. Fushiguro Toji, heavyweight champion.
sukuna is led out of the ring by his team, choosing to forego any post-match interviews. he doesn’t dare look at you as he passes you on the steps, humiliated beyond belief.
calls of your name echo out from the center of the ring, your boyfriend pushing past paparazzi to scoop you into his arms.
the heat from his torso melts into yours as he clutches you to his body. he’s sweaty, practically bleeding from every direction too. but he’s smiling.
it’s not the smile he puts on for press, a quick flash of perfect teeth to keep the morale light, keep his sponsors happy. not the sinister smile he flaunts during matches either, fueled by bloodlust and pure adrenaline.
not even the cocky smile he puts on for the crowd when the match gets tough, the one that gets his opponents mad, gets the crowd hit and bothered.
this smile is soft, private. a small show of love in a sea of flashing cameras and prying eyes. this smile says “i love you, I do this for you.”
you reach for his face, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. toji wipes the blood—his— from your lips with a calloused thumb, pulling your head to his chest with a soft murmur.
“i love you.”
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yokkaoboxingposts · 1 year
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Superlek’s tour of MMA gyms in the United States is a continuation of the tour that started on 29 January when he trained with Johnny Eblen at the American Top Team Gym in Coconut Creek, Florida.  Superlek thoroughly enjoyed the sparring session which gave him a new appreciation for grappling.Moving on to the next tour stop, Superlek and the YOKKAO Team headed to the Gracie Barra The Woodlands Gym in Spring, Texas on 01 February.Read more at https://yokkao.com/blogs/news/superleks-us-tour-heats-up-as-he-trains-with-ufc-contenders
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jazzyaintjayz · 2 months
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i think we should normalize demigods growing up to be average people. bc rick really went out there and said george washington and harriet tubman were demigods but just think about this for a second-
"ah yes that gas station attendant is a son of hermes, god of travelers"
there's simultaneously so much and so little potential here
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llstarcasterll · 22 days
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I suffered from some pretty severe MMA fighter Kevin Day brain rot a couple months ago
TWITTER || INSTAGRAM || PATREON || SHOP
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2dolphintrampstamp · 2 months
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Meisha Tate
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luvit · 3 months
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I thinking about 141 members with a military girlfriend, when they are dating and 141 leaves for a moment and see their gf getting harassed by a stranger. When they’re angry and ready to rush towards them and punch them their gf just suddenly gives the harasser a shoulder throw. I think they will be proud of their gf and think something like “That’s my women”
(fem!reader)
hahaha! as someone who did judo for almost half of her life, i lowkey dreamt of this happening 💀 (tho i'm gonna pretend this happens either during training or on mission bc i think reader could get arrested and/or get a bad conduct discharge bahaha)
price probably knows you can handle it already. he's not going to get up in arms just because someone is yelling in your face, no matter how much he wants to. he'll just keep sitting there on the bench smirking and watching it go on until you need to handle it yourself. honestly, he had hoped that they'd tried to lay a hand on you even though you were talking them down because he was getting so irritated. he lets you handle it however if they try to get back up for more, you know he's going to be there to finish it for you. will defend you if someone tries to get you in trouble, even pulls rank if he needs to. gentle whispers "that's my girl." before going to handle the situation.
soap is someone who i think is more excited to see how it'll play out. he wants to defend your honor, but he also doesn't want to default you to being a damsel in distress. lowkey he instigates it HAHAHA. he'll ask, "you gonna take that?" and it gets you going because the other party just taunts you even more. he acts like a sports announcer when you slam them onto the mat with a big "oooh! that's gotta hurt" and proudly runs up to you with a big kiss on your cheek. he leans down and gets into the person's face and just starts making fun at them. maybe he wants to see it happen again idk lmfao. either way he'll just keep jeering with an arm wrapped around your shoulder and happily walk you away singing "my girl's fuckin' badass. she'll beat all you!"
gaz tries to stop it before it escalates to you, because he hates the fact that someone is trying to demean you or intimidate you by getting in your face. he acts as a shield between the two of you because he also doesn't want to see you getting into trouble for whatever may happen. but once they hit a sensitive point and you go quiet? he's probably stepped away and holding his hands up in defense while saying "sorry, buddy. you asked for it." and lets you loose lmfao. he has the most smug grin on his face when you do a takedown. the both of you end up getting in trouble anyways but he just sits next to you, not even hearing a word of the huge lecture you're getting, and says "you looked cool, baby."
ghost could honestly shut it down by using his sheer size and intimidating presence if he wanted to, but - like all the others - he trusts in your capabilities. he also thinks that everyone should be able to handle their own mess themselves, so if you look back at him outraged by the sheer audacity of this person then he'll just give you an expectant stare back as if you say 'deal with it, you're on your own' with his arms crossed. it irritates you to no end but you understand. it surprises him when you resort to doing a throw over your shoulder because he honestly thought you'd be verbally sparring a little more before the physical. but he just quietly chuckles and flicks you in the forehead. to others he's still being a pain to you and instead just critiquing you, but it comes out of affection when he says "your form was bad."
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ohnococo · 9 days
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Fight Night: Recovery | MMA!Fighter Sukuna x F!Reader
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You return home in the early hours of the morning after your celebratory night out with Sukuna. You clean each other up, as promised, and things get steamy.
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✧ Notes: Hello! I’m back with more of these two. If you haven’t read my series Fight Night, please do or Sukuna may seem unusually soft here. If you have, welcome back! Anything I post for this series will be less structured, just little moments in the lives of Sukuna and reader.
✧ Warnings: Fem bodied reader, implied drinking/partying, showering, very light body worship, bathing each other, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, explicit mention of old cum being cleaned
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Fight Night Masterlist
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You awaken to the feel of Sukuna’s arms sliding beneath you, lifting you from where he’d deposited you on his bed. He squeezes at your upper arms, encouraging you to hang onto him as he carries you to the bathroom. It’s a difficult task, with how your body feels as though it may as well be boneless at this point, but you manage.
“Took you long enough.”
“And how long did it take me?”
You don’t have to peel open your heavy lids to know he’s smirking, knowing full well you have no clue since you were out the second your body hit the bed. In lieu of the response he wasn’t really asking for, you wrap your arms tighter around his neck, keeping yourself pressed tightly to his bare chest before he sets you down onto the closed toilet. Once he has a hand wrapped around your ankle, you find it in you to open your eyes, if only to take in the sight of Sukuna kneeling in front of you as he pulls off your shoe and tosses it aside.
“Gentle, please.”
The look he gives you threatens to inspire something in your worn out body, brows raised as if his eyes alone were telling you off for daring to boss him around. It doesn’t stop him from removing the other shoe and setting it down slightly more gently, though.
He stands and begins unbuckling his belt, followed by undoing his trousers, and you finally notice that the sound of running water is coming from the shower instead of the bathtub as you’d been expecting.
“I thought you were going to run a bath.”
He shakes his head dismissively, pushing his trousers and boxer briefs down in one go and kicking them off, “I’m too tired for all of that.”
The corners of your mouth curl upward, like he’d admitted some well kept secret with that small statement. “So you do get tired.”
“Sometimes.” It’s said simply, a thin veil of a response over the reminder that he would always keep you on your toes when it came to these things.
You lift your arms, looking up at Sukuna through your lashes and doing a little expectant wiggle.
“I’ve got to do everything, hm?”
“You promised to clean me up.”
He tilts his head and lets out a little huff, “Fair enough.”
And that’s that, as he tugs the bottom of your dress up your thighs and over your ass. It’s a job made easy by how stretched out the thick blue fabric had become over the course of the night from all the times it had been hiked up to give Sukuna the access you rarely denied him. You decide to aid him slightly, undoing the buttons at the back of your neck before stretching your arms back into the air. He pulls it over your head and off, tossing it aside with the rest of the removed clothing. Getting you naked is quick work, given how the low back of the dress had left you unable to wear a bra in the first place, and your panties had been discarded before you’d even reached the halfway point of the night.
His arms settle back onto your waist, helping you lift yourself onto your feet, and they keep their place loosely - even as you turn and take heavy steps to the shower while he follows. You can tell from his hovering hands that he half-expects you to slip or stumble with how barely-coherent you’d been earlier, but you find the little nap you’d gotten on the way home and then on his bed was enough to give you somewhat of a second wind. Still, you enjoy having his hands so near, ready to keep you steady should you need it.
You settle yourself with your back to the spray of water, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your face to his chest. “Wash my hair?”
He doesn’t answer outright, instead leaning down to grab something among the products that had accumulated in the corner of his shower over the last several weeks. Your head goes with his gentle movement, not wanting to leave its comfortable spot against his firm chest, and when he straightens with shampoo in hand he sets it on the higher tiled shelf with his own products so it’s within easy reach.
As he backs you further into the falling water, you don’t expect much, but Sukuna exceeds those expectations with how gentle he is as his fingers smooth over your hair. He dips his fingertips into the thick of it, shaking lightly to make sure it’s wet all the way through before he’s picking the bottle of shampoo up again.
Were you slightly more coherent, you’d notice how his motions mimic your own from the times the two of you had showered together since you began occupying more and more of his space. Times when Sukuna quietly enjoyed your proximity, washing off sweat formed from nights spent much more sober, and much less clothed than this one had been. Though now you were drinking and fucking and dancing your way through the city just like you once had, and it left you both with a much bigger mess to clean.
Once he’s got shampoo in your hair, followed by his fingertips at your scalp making firm circles, you lean your head back into his hands, letting him cradle your head as he works. You let out a small groan and his warm breath hits your face as you open your eyes and see the look he’s giving you.
“Don’t make noises like that if you don’t want to get fucked.”
You laugh, squeezing his waist tighter with your arms, “I’m too sore.”
“Hasn’t stopped us before.”
“And I’m tired. I thought you were too?”
He dips his head down, water hitting his own hair and making you close your eyes as it cascades off of him and onto your face. His nose brushes yours as his mouth hovers close, already open and waiting for you to do the same, and once your lips are parted he speaks low into your mouth, making you listen before you have his kiss.
“It’d take a lot more than a night out to have me too tired for that.”
It has you smiling as his lips meet yours and you taste remnants of the night on his tongue. It’s enough to have you questioning whether you could possibly handle his cock one more time, but that dull sting below as his kiss has you clenching reminds you that the two of you aren’t in nearly the rush you had been during your first times partying. So you pull back, pressing your forehead to his mouth when he tries to lean in for more, and he’s satisfied to place a final kiss there before he returns to washing your hair.
He takes more care than you had anticipated, even once you melt into him further, forehead resting on his chest as he does a surprisingly thorough job. Then he’s removing his fingertips, closing his large hands from your temples to the top of your head in a makeshift headband as he tilts you back into the spray. He runs them back over your head, effectively wringing out anything left with the help of the warm water. He repeats this again, until your head is bobbing and he gathers all of your hair into a sort of ponytail, squeezing lightly as he presses a kiss to your chin.
“Don’t fall asleep.”
Despite the warning in his voice it just makes you chuckle, thoughts half-formed as his touch makes you feel more and less drunk at the same time. “I’m not gonna fall asleep standing, I’m not a horse.”
He lets out a little breath through his nose at that, but moves on otherwise with a hint of something to gnaw on in his voice, “Should I expect you to reciprocate?”
You laugh, leaning your head forward, pulling your hair out of his loosened grasp and returning your forehead to its now-familiar place against his chest. “Do you have a stepladder for that?”
He sighs, able to feign annoyance despite the apparent tiredness he’d mentioned earlier, the very tiredness you were still dubious of as you open your eyes and look down to see his heavy cock stirring with interest. “The rest of me, then.”
“That, I can manage.”
Despite your words you take your time moving from your comfortable spot, bracing yourself to be out of the reach of the warm water. Once you’re ready you tug at Sukuna’s waist, trying to move him into position, and he lets you - smile on his face at your attempts. The water only reaches his shoulders, travelling down in small streams that twist and wind along his muscle and drip off loudly to the tiles below.
You reach for his shelf and gather soap in your palm, lathering it up, and then letting it aid in slipping your hands across his neck and shoulders. With your mind set on not pushing your body too far, and on passing out as soon as possible, you try your very best to ignore the girth stirring in front of you. Sukuna knows very well what thoughts are going through your mind, and smiles as he finally releases you from his hungry gaze, busying himself with washing his own hair as you continue rubbing along his abs and down to his hips.
Your fingers work carefully through the thick hair at the base of his cock, well-dirtied with both your messes through the night, until the water rinses it clean. A glance up at him reveals him watching you again, this time with curiosity in his soft smile, to see if you’ll leave any of him ignored in an attempt to calm the beast hanging hard and heavy with water finding its own path off each of the silver beads along the underside of his cock. You slide your fingers around it entirely, working soap into the hair of his balls, delving into the space between his thighs as well. He chuckles above, drawing your eyes back up to him for a moment, then as you look back down at your task he closes his eyes and tilts his head back to rinse his hair out.
Even with his hair rinsed clean, he leaves his eyes closed and his head back, sighing when your hands slide around his hips and away from his cock as you lather up what you can reach of his back. You make your way lower, accompanied by soft suds, until you’re squeezing and rubbing at his ass.
Sukuna dips his head down to speak into your ear, sending droplets from his hair and onto your face. “I thought we were past you being frightened of it.”
“Oh, please.” You crane your neck back, separating your bodies enough for him to be sure to see the look you were giving him, squeezing his butt hard to emphasise that you were absolutely not afraid of any part of him. “I’m not scared of that thing.”
“This thing?” His smile widens enough that his eyes crinkle shut.
“Yeah.” Your smile back is as playful as you can manage with you using the last of your focus to wash him, and you offer his ass a little spank and spread his cheeks lightly as you squeeze again, a move similar to one he’d done to you many times before. “That thing.”
He closes that small distance again, tracing his tongue along the shell of your ear before whispering, “It won’t hurt you.”
“It already has.”
He leans back, a small hint of a question in his eyes that you don’t need him to ask.
“But not in a way I can’t handle.”
“Of course.” He turns around then, rinsing remnants of soap off before cleaning his cock himself while you busy yourself with washing his back more thoroughly, then his legs.
You half expect him to keep stroking himself as you bend down, rubbing at his thick muscled thighs, but he releases himself and settles his hands at his sides, stretching his neck out and enjoying the feel of your hands on him.
When you stand he’s sighing as though he’d managed to get some rest in that time, turning back to you.
“I suppose it’s your turn then?”
He brings you back under the shower head, turning you around to face the spray head on and settling his hands on your hips as he speaks low into your ear. “You’ll have to handle washing your face. I don’t think I’m quite delicate enough for that.”
You lean back against his chest, sighing at the sound of his voice in your ear. “Ryomen The King Sukuna, underestimating himself? What have I done to you?”
“What have you done, indeed.” He presses his hips forward, letting you feel his hardness against your ass, though your attention is quickly drawn to the face wash he reaches around you to place in your hand.
You take it, squeezing it into your hand and busying yourself with removing what remains of your makeup as Sukuna runs his hands over your body, lathering you up. He makes no attempt to hide how he squeezes and gropes at every part of you that he touches, quite clearly feeling you up even as he cleans the sweat and cum and sticky residue of spilled drinks off of your naked body. He catches your nipples between thick knuckles, grips at your hips and stomach, presses kisses and gentle bites down your back and to your ass as he kneels to wash your legs, only incidentally cleaning you as he indulges himself before standing to finish his work.
With your face cleaned, you lie your head back onto his chest, enjoying this feel of his hands as he rinses you clean. Once he’s kneading at your thighs, slowly making his way closer and closer to your pussy, you can practically feel his gaze down at you. You know too well that he’s waiting for the smallest word or reaction to tell him to make his touch much more targeted - as if he hadn’t been working you up from the moment you’d stepped into the shower.
His fingers finally closing in to run over your pussy send a shudder through you, and when he brings a splash of water up to aid in cleaning your sticky folds you let out a laugh, head lolling against his chest. “Now you get to see how annoying it is to clean all of that cum out of me.”
His other arm comes down to hook under your knee, lifting your leg and keeping you spread for him to dip his fingers into your entrance as you melt into his embrace.
“It shouldn’t be too difficult.” He wriggles his fingers inside of you, chuckling as you gasp, “I can go much deeper than you.”
He’s right, pulling his long fingers out and rinsing them under the water before he’s sliding them back into your depths, loosening and coaxing out any cum that hadn’t made its way down your thighs through the night. He cleans you out thoroughly but, just as expected, doesn’t stop there - movements becoming a little faster and finding their rhythm until your pussy is making sticky sounds loud enough to be heard over the spray of the shower.
You reach back to tangle a hand into his hair as he starts kissing lightly along your neck, laughing when you start rocking your hips into the gentle thrusts of his fingers.
“What was that about being too sore?”
He laughs at whatever combination of a huff and a moan that you let out, and tenses enough to have his cock prodding at your ass in a reminder that he was never quite done. This time your huff is more pronounced, giving him a taste of the internal debate you were having between how much you wanted and how much you could handle, until you’re left compromising with your own body.
“Just the tip.”
The laugh this draws from him is much more lively. “Just the tip?”
“I mean it, Sukuna.”
“If that’s what you want…”
He pulls his fingers from your pussy, letting your leg down and turning you to face him before he’s lifting it again and settling it against his hip. He traps it in place with one arm as he reaches down to line himself up, wrapping the other arm around you to help you stay up even with as tired as your body was.
Even with just the promised hint of length from him, you feel that sting, but once he’s sliding that fat tip against your spongy walls the pleasure overcomes the pain. You press your face to his chest, squeezing at his pecs and kissing the wet skin as he groans above you.
The way he’s crouched to line up your disparate heights has his muscles tensing and flexing and as he angles himself perfectly you have to concentrate hard to enjoy the view of him instead of letting your eyes roll back with the heat prickling right down to your curling toes.
You tilt your head up until your lips meet his and his breath is hot in your mouth, words mingling with your soft moans, “Just the tip?”
You can’t blame him for pressing, with the way your pussy was practically sucking at his tip as you clench and squirm on it. Still, you know your limits, including which ones you are and aren’t willing to push past, so you nod and he pulls your arms from around his body to guide your hands to his ignored length. You wrap your hands around it, giving him something more to fuck into as your heat takes him in again and again. It earns you a string of appreciative moans that you return enthusiastically, licking into his mouth to have more of what you can from him.
“Fuck, Sukuna…” You pull back to press your head to his chest, eyes screwed shut as you rock your hips into his careful movements. You loosen your grip on his length, taking just a little bit more of him in as your thighs tense and shake.
With his hands too busy holding you up, he has to nuzzle at the top of your head to get your attention, insisting that he get to watch you cum on his cock. You know that it’s what he needs, tilting your head back and locking eyes with him as he brings his mouth to yours, drinking in your moans and meeting them with low groans as he waits for that telltale clenching on his tip.
He isn’t waiting long as you let go of his cock, crying out into his mouth as you grip at his ass and pull him all the way into your heat, until your hips are flush against his. It takes him by surprise and flings him towards his end, as he lets out a broken moan, pressing deep into you as your pussy clenches and milks his cock of all he has left to give. He stills his hips as you rock against him, riding out the last of your orgasm in his arms, until his cum is sliding out around him and spattering onto the tile below while he kisses at your slackened jaw.
Your arms find their way back around his torso as you pull yourself to his chest yet again, panting against his wet skin as you shudder softly. He pulls out slowly, letting your leg down but keeping your tired body held firmly to him.
“Let’s go to bed.”
“Hm?” He cranes his neck to look at your face, pressed so closely to him that only half of it is left visible, “You’ve got a new mess to clean now.”
“Nuh uh… tomorrow…”
While he’s technically right, and while it technically already is tomorrow, your orgasm has taken everything you had left and you know you’re veering ever so close to actually passing out if you don’t lie down soon.
Sukuna doesn’t need convincing to have his cum left inside of you, though, and he reaches behind you to turn off the shower. You feel yourself drifting off already as he wraps a towel around you, and you’re out completely once he lifts you up and carries you to bed.
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sports-outsized · 5 months
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hombresexual2 · 11 months
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superiorsturgeon · 2 months
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Gilded Rose: Staredown
Pyrrha: *preparing for a big 1v1 match, walks to the weigh-in/stare-down event*
Spectators: *cheering like crazy people for their favorite champion* 🤩
Paparazzi: *snapping photos as fast as their cameras can go*
Opponent Fighter: *staring down Pyrrha with an intimidating glare* 😠
Pyrrha: It’s very nice to meet you! I’m looking forward to working together! 😇
Opponent: ?
Pyrrha: Oh! My wife Ruby sent these along as a gift! *holds out a bouquet of roses* 🌹🌹🌹
Opponent: ?????
Pyrrha: *pops open the lid of a baking dish full of brownies* My husband Jaune also sent these for everyone to share! I hope you like double-fudge! 😁
Opponent: ??!??!?!
Pyrrha: 😊
Opponent: *munching on brownie in confusion and holding roses* This cinnamon roll is the feared Invincible Girl? There’s no way, right…?
Pyrrha won the match by brutal knockout in under a minute.
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kanimart · 11 months
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No. 1 MMA Fighter “Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight”, that’s it.
check my insta for more
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yokkaoboxingposts · 1 year
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YOKKAO spearheaded this ‘exchange of disciplines’ where there is a free exchange of skills and techniques during training sessions. Philip Villa, the brand’s founder, and CEO believes all the fighters that will participate in the cross-training events will benefit and grow from the exchanges. This is only the first leg of Superlek’s tour and it could not have started any better. The two MMA champions displayed their crisp techniques for the duration of their training session. Read more at https://yokkao.com/blogs/news/superlek-trains-with-bellator-middleweight-champ-johnny-eblen
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*taps mic* do you have any thoughts about pouty Sakuna? The fans want to know 🎤
Your MMA!Sakuna is my personal fav Sakuna headcannon and all I can see is that menace corning you into a cuddle on the couch or against the kitchen counter and parking his stupid little face in the valley between your tits so he can pout up at you until you cuddle him back. God forbid you try to ignore him because then the jut of his bottom lip gets deeper by the second until you give in
Oh, mma!Sukuna is such a big baby. He's tough around everyone else, but when it's just you two, he lets his soft side show through.
What often happens is he comes home from training and finds you laying on the couch, so naturally he crawls on top of you and cuddles up against your plush flesh. He expects you to wrap your arms around him and pet his hair, maybe give his forehead a kiss before asking how his day went. When you don't do that, when you keep reading or scrolling on your phone, he starts to pout. Eyebrows furrowed, lip jutting out as he looks up at you, wondering why you aren't coddling him like the little spoon he naturally is. He waits a moment before huffing, squeezing you tighter. If that doesn't get your attention, he rests his chin on your chest and stares up at you, still pouting, huffing every now and then like the big baby he is.
When you finally give him attention, he's beyond relieved, curling into you and letting you play with his hair. This is his happy place and he'll be damned if he doesn't get to indulge whenever he can.
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