come close; hobie brown
getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.
pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader
contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)
words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!
warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3
extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.
song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu! full playlist
signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾
—
not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.
you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.
"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.
"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"
not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.
but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.
he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.
not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.
not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.
"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"
"i've done it before. i made it home."
not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.
not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.
not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.
not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.
not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.
you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.
not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”
"really? you're wild. but i get it."
"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.
"what?" you smile.
"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.
not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.
not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.
not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.
not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.
not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.
the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.
not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.
not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.
not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.
not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time.
in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.
not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.
you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.
you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.
not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already.
not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed.
he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.
“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.
“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”
“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.”
and there it is again.
not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.
and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.
“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”
“then do it.”
not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.
“how long?” you ask between kisses.
“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.
god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.
the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.
you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.
he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"
you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.
"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.
not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.
"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.
"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.
"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.
"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.
"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.
"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.
he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.
"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."
"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."
and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.
not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.
pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.
until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.
it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.
"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.
you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.
“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.
fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.
"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.
"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.
"bet you are."
you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.
"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.
"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.
"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.
not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”
"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.
"mhm?" he hums.
you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.
"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.
not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.
"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.
body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.
he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.
"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.
you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."
"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."
"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.
"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.
"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.
"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."
he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.
"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.
"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.
"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."
"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.
"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.
"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.
"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.
he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.
the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.
"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.
"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.
"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.
"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.
"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.
not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.
"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.
you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.
"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.
"wan' you to cum, hobes."
"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.
"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.
the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.
after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.
not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.
just thinking about....
-> showering Izuku with kisses till he's awake, how he blushes bright red by the sudden affection he woke up to but never doing anything to stop it, instead, he allows your lips to touch his now even warmer squishy cute adorable face
he feels dizzy because of the butterflies in his stomach that he feels will burst out anytime soon, wow he just absolutely loves you.
Dating Hanta Sero <3
𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄
➢ sometimes the prettiest stars aren’t in the sky
note: thank you so much to @lilsparkyswife for letting me be apart of her fluffvember!! don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog on every work featured :))
characters: izuku
content: fluff, stargazing through the car roof, flustered izuku, just cuteness all around
words: 0.7k
He had this all planned out. From the date, to the day, to even the time he would ask. A foolproof plan, one may add. Yet, it seemed that some force, possibly the universe, was having none of this. Laughing in his face at the absurdity of asking such a person out. A person that was none other than you.
You, the one Midoriya would call a dear friend of his. Well, he would have a few weeks ago. Before the mere mention of your name made his stomach flip and turn his face cherry red. It surprised him how you hadn’t caught on by now, since his behavior was far from ordinary. Yet, you were oblivious or rather knew but wanted to spare his feelings. Either way, Izuku was determined to make his feelings known.
Keep reading
his fantasy!au design is something..
This is something I wrote like AGES AGO !!! And I’ve been VERY MIA LATLEY so here’s some cringe asss writing I wrote at like 6am
cw/ ok this IS a bit suggestive but a little kiss is all that happens ( OMG SPOILERS RHEA! ). sero does allude to something more but he isn't serious and never names it, just insinuates ig ?. sero being a nervous little teenager. this is actually something that i did like a week ago at a sleep over 😋. #bring back nervous men
ok. ok. okk. oookkk. he repeats over and over in his head. omfg stop sweating. your hands are so sweaty stop sweating sero! he yells at himself but because the body doesn't respond to agression, his pleads led to no avail. he sits up straighter thinking he's slouching too much. women don't like men with bad posture, makes them look shorter and sloppy! he can hear his mothers voice now nagging at him. he doesn't know why he's so nervous, you have been participating in these weekly movie nights with the some of class 1A and 1B for months now. so why is it now that he suddenly can't breathe with you next to him? you shift a little bit and suddenly it all comes clear to him. oh, she's next to me. she's leaning on me, not mina or urakara. is she mad at one of them? no no, you wouldn't bother coming down here if you were. maybe you were trying to make one of his friends jealous? did you like someone in this room? hell who cares, you're leaving on him. not bakugou, not todoroki, not denki, him.
he can feel your skin against his due to your shirt riding up. you're probably cold right? if you're so cuddled up next to him. he goes to reach for a blanket but stops. wait no, if you pull a blanket on the both of you, she'll probably think you're trying something. something you are definitely not trying. i mean.. you wouldn't mind trying... NO GOD SERO NO BAD! you aren't mineta. you're in a room full of people !! and plus that's a douche move. "are you good ?" you ask with a light laugh and he realizes he's just sitting straight up, with a arm mid way reaching out for the blanket. "uhhh" "oh! are you getting a blanket? thank god i'm like freezing in here." before he can really move you reach over and pull the white fluffy blanket over both of you. both of you. both. of. you. sero relaxes a little, leaning back into the couch with his hands in his lap like he's in church. another 15 minutes go by and he doesn't move. enjoying the smell of you and your soft hair splattered across his collar bone and the couch cushion. 15 more minutes of nothing. no movement. no sweating. just stillness until, you move your arm across his body to prop yourself up facing him. oh my god. what is happening. did i miss something? is she going to yelll at me ? can she read my thoughts? brain going a mile a minute he completely disregards you leaning in close to him, whispering in his ear "are you sure you're ok sero, you seem a little... tense." he turns his head to look at you and you pull away a little looking into his eyes. you look so pretty. how can someone look so pretty like this? he thinks. hair messy from endless tossing during the movies, no makeup, chapped lips and your face illuminated by the blue light from the tv. "um no no im fine. im sorry i just. school. stressful hahah.. you know?" god he sounds like a train wreck right now. 'hahah.. you know' wtf is wrong with you. he thinks as you giggle a little. he looks around briefly noticing everyone is alseep. how the hell did they fall alseep it's only, he looks at his apple watch, 1:47am, oh. "ha ha... yeah i know." god now you're mocking him. he would think he completely ruined the convo if it weren't for your slight smile tugging at your lips. you back away from his face and he doesn't know if he's glad or hating it. you're still turned towards him, just sitting back now on the edge of the couch. "aw boo, looks like they all passed out." you say looking down and around at your friends who are all snoring away. "are you tired yet?" you ask. and god he thinks his heart stops when you tilt your head to look back at him. "ummuh no not really. i could sleep but i could also stay up a little longer." yeah that totally makes sense. you sit there for maybe 10 more seconds but it feels like 10 more hours to sero, just looking at him, smiling. should he smile back? or keep his scared little boy expression? he needs to relax he shouldn't be this tense over a classmate. granted the classmate is the definition of drop dead gorgeous, and they're so smart and funny, more smart than funny but god does he really like that about you. "can i kiss u sero?" holy shit. that came out of NO WHERE. well not really but STILL ! you WANT to kiss him. YOU want to kiss HIM? you want to KISS HIM? his mind is racing, thinking of the perfect thing to say back. something cool and smooth and "yeah" oh. that wasn't cool or smooth but it got the job done. you look at his lips then back at him as you lean in with your stupidly adorable smirk. you stop momentarily, centimeters before touching his lips, the he leans in to close the gap. your chapt lips meet his softer ones and you put your hands around his neck, fingers gliding into his almost mullet as you break away. licking your lips and smiling like a total goof you whisper, "i need to get to bed. goodnight sero." you get up and kiss his cheek once more before vanishing in the dark hallway. and he's left there. motionless and euphoric. best first kiss ever.
★﹒₊‧ matsukawa!bf things
matching pjs, but like subtlety.. classic white tee with matching pants (green plaid, star wars, family guy..)
teaching you to skate and going to the skate park together (firm believer in skate!rat issei)
writes you songs, but he doesn't sing them rlly l, just a rlly nice instrumental on bass or acustic
LATE night drives when he can't sleep so he drives by your house to see if your light is still on. even if it isn't he calls you anyways and ofc you answer, trying your hardest to sneak out and y'all go get some food, blast music and look at the stars until you actually start getting tired
horror fanatic. he LOVES horror movies and is NEVER phased by them, it's kinda scary that you're cowering in his side while he's just casually watching it. you swear he jumped ONCE but he says it was a shiver (it wasn't)
GOSSIPY COUPLE y'all talk hella shit abt everyone. ppl just tell the two of you stuff and y'all aren't total bitches so you keep it between y'all two but still you know all about what some fangirl tried saying to oikawa and wtv else
will go shopping w you and loves to watch you try everything on
he's like ur doll, ew that's a weird way of putting it but like he will let u do ANYTHING to him. paint his nails, dress him up, apply makeup on him, face mask, anything !!
he loves to bake with you. he can't bake at all but one day he brought cupcake mix to your house and y'all just started making it, but now he likes to make everything from scratch and he's gotten pretty good over time
he really likes when you read to him. it could be the most boring ass book, his words, but hearing it from you just eases him (?)
♥︎author note: sorry this may be messy i did this in the last 10 minutes of my ceramics class
sugar, mitsuki & masaru.
560. fluff. in love with katsuki’s parents in a fond way. their dynamic is every important to me. masaru loves his wife so much and you should too. ( threat )
mitsuki makes her way into the kitchen just as the digital clock strikes 7.
it’s moments like these, suspended in time, that masaru truly gets to admire his wife’s serenity. mair a mess from rolling straight out of bed, robe sloppily hanging off one shoulder, and the matching house slippers katsuki surprised the two of them with two christmas’ ago that she refuses to throw out adorning her feet. unmistakably her.
he smiles into his coffee and she throws him a look.
“what.” bitten off with a yawn and tapered off into something soft. unmistakably her.
“nothing, nothing,”
he sets to making her own cup and she smiles at him gratefully, pillow lines curving into her cheek just barely. and when he stirs milk into her coffee under her watchful gaze—very particular about the amount, she was—he realizes he’s smitten. a love born from the most uncanny of pairs held steadfastly for many years, and here he was, cheeks reddening at the thought of having a crush on his wife.
mitsuki sends him the second odd look of the morning. It's only been six minutes.
he clears his throat. “creamer?”
“mhm,”
he’s asked what it’s like ‘dealing with her’ a lot, lines blurred between joke and concern. and while he can agree that the two of them do make for a sight to behold, he’d do it all over again and still choose her. they didn’t see the funny faces she makes when she’s on the phone with a client she absolutely loathed, or the way she lit up at the sight of small dogs, or the hidden pride she had whenever someone talked about their son.
he’s mellowed out, now, she’d commented once with a faint sigh. he hadn’t missed the way the corners of her lips had turned up every so slightly, or the way her fingers had curled into the fabric of her skirt. the school’s been a good environment for him. was worried he’d never change, and… i recognize a part of it’s my fault as well.
masaru knows she’s the first person most would blame, but he knows he’s been too lenient, too underspoken. it’s a weight the two of them carried unspoken, each held down by the what if’s and could have been’s. but progress has been made, steps made towards a relationship better than what was left of it. he knows they still hover, awkward, ashamedly so–he’s so grown. so much more responsible–but they try. And while he doesn’t show it, he can tell that katsuki appreciates it nonetheless. (even if they are a little embarrassing.)
“sugar?”
“yes?”
he stops stirring abruptly, desperately fighting back the flush threatening to spread across his features, and gives her a pointed look of slight exasperation. he only relents when mitsuki poorly tries to hide a grin into the palm of her hand, her quiet snort a dead giveaway.
masaru sighs fondly and adds two spoonfuls of sugar. nineteen years and he’s still falling for the same jokes. he supposes it’s worth it, getting to see her smile like that.
sliding the cup over when finished, he watches as she takes the first sip, something horridly sappy banging alongside his heart when she hums her delight, content lifting her lips into a brilliant smile.
“thank you.” for choosing me. for katsuki. for the coffee.
definitely worth it.
play dumb!
synopsis : after your last heartbreak you decide to get a little revenge, what could go wrong?
content : loser!atsumu, college au, pining, fluff, suggestive, cheating, angst, ooc, mother issues, characters are adults, written parts
don't look at the time stamps or dates :D
status: ongoing
pairing : atsumu x f!reader
schedule : so inconsistent sorry in advance <3
taglist : leave a comment here to be added :)
dividers
inspo : this smau, how to lose a guy in 10 days, and this
introductions : chronically single + yn | fuck, marry, kill, sanitize
prologue : hey girlie
one : don't change the subject (written)
two : oh
three : you owe me
four : he'll live (written)
five : you're no fun
six : good guy (written)
seven : watch me
eight : girlfriendy (written)
nine: keg stand (written)
ten : delightful to be around
GUYS I'M ALREADY WRITING A FIC BUT I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA AND I JUST WANNA SHARE WIT Y'ALL.
Kendrick lamar Bf (Miles) x SZA Gf (reader)
Or
Kendrick lamar Bf (Miles) x Kali Uchis Gf (reader)
I'm not shipping the artists just to let y'all know it's just the music they'd listen to and it will be related to how their personalities are yk?
Sero Hanta comfort
This song as been on repeat and I think sero would love it
Two gentle knocks stir Sero out of his sleepy daze. His music is still on, the song displayed on his TV. He glances at his alarm clock beside him. 11:34pm. It’s late but not too late. It’s a Saturday night so it’s not a big deal if he sleeps in. Pulling himself up to answer the door the short walk over is done with his eyes closed but as Sero opens the door he gets a whiff of your perfume and suddenly they’re wide open. He’s met with your tired figure. Eyes dragging down, hair disheveled and you look smaller. You’re shoulders are too repaxed and you’re holding your stomach, hunching over. “Y/n? Um are you like ok?” He asked still trying to wake up. At his question your head tilts up and eyes meet his. Sero’s heart breaks a little, he can see the sadness, the stress all of it. “I’m just,” you begin. Your voice is small and sounds like it’s about to crack, “I’m so tired, Sero. I can’t sleep. All I want to do is sleep but I can’t.” You’re trembling now. He knows this isn’t just about not being able to sleep. It’s about all of it. Everything that has happened to you lately, the stress he has seen on your face multiple times in school. You hands go quickly to cover your eyes to stop the stream of tears from falling down you’re cheeks but one manages to slip through the barricade. Sero follows it as it rounds the fullest part of your cheek and quickly falls to your chin but he wipes it away with his hand before it does. That’s what he always does. He always catches you before you fall. Right when you’re over the edge he grabs you and pulls you back. He’s your best friend. He’s more than that but he knows now is not the time to question his position in your life.
“Oh hun, come here.” His voice is empathetic. His hand snakes behind to your neck and the other to your back as he pulls you to him, walking the two of you inside his room. Your arms instinctive wrap around his form, tightly. You’re sobs are prevalent but the sound of Sero’s music the TV is drowning them out. He begins swaying you two around and patting your head trying to calm you down a bit more. When that doesn’t seem to work he resorts to singing along to the music softly in your ear.
“Nothings gonna hurt you baby / Nothings gonna take you from my side”
His voice is gruff with sleep. His eyes close and his head falls to rest on the top of yours.
“When we have a drink or three / Always ends in a hazy shower scene/ Nothings gonna hurt you baby / As long as you’re with me you’ll be just fine”
He makes his way to his bed with you still in his arms. He lays down first, then pulls you softly to lay right on top of him. Your face is hidden in the curve of his neck, the tears have stopped but your hands still tightly fist his shirt. Keeping him close to you. Sero’s eyes flutter shut and his breathing gets heavier and soon sleep embraces the two of you with the sound of his TV still running.
“Nothings gonna hurt you baby”