Nerdjo In Spiderverse 🕷️

YES YES YES WE NEED MORE 1A girls content !!!

1A GIRLS AS YOUR DESKMATE

notes: what it would be like to share a desk with them!! 

characters: ochako uraraka, momo yaoyorozu, kyoka jiro, mina ashido, tsuyu asui, toru hagakure 

warnings: mentions of food in tsus!!

word count: 0.8k

OCHAKO URARAKA, who passes you little notes everyday. it could be a question like “wanna hang out after school?” or just a cute drawing, but you often see a little folded paper with a heart on your desk. 

your eyes look down to find a white paper folded, with a tiny heart drawn on top. you look over to ochako, who is too busy writing down notes about the lesson to notice. 

you open the paper, reading the content inside. “hey, wanna hang out after school? :D” you take your pencil and write on her note “ofc <3” and slide it back to her. 

ochako reads the note, smiling over at you before going back to writing the notes. 

MOMO YAOYOROZU, who helps you study. if you space off in class, she will let you copy off her notes. she invites you to her dorm to help you learn everything you need to for that next test, but sometimes you’ll just hang out. 

“y/n?” you snap out of your thoughts, looking over at momo. you ask her what she needs. 

“you haven’t written down any notes.” you look at momo’s paper with half of the page already filled, then at yours, which is empty. 

“here, you can copy off mine, but pay more attention next time, y/n.” momo tilts her notebook towards you slightly, continuing to write. 

“we can also study at my dorm later, if you want.” momo tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. you nod your head in agreement, making momo smile. 

KYOKA JIRO, who gives you her airpod in a boring class so you can both listen to music. she’ll usually play loud music but sometimes you’ll convince her to turn it down so she can at least try to focus. 

you let out a sigh, only loud enough for you to hear, and jiro. she looks over at you, pulling out her airpods. she holds one out to you that you take and she starts to play music. 

you take a few minutes to not pay attention to the class, lightly tapping your feet to the rhythm of the music. once one or two songs end you turn to jiro. 

“hey, maybe we should try to pay attention a little bit, that looks like stuff we should probably know.” jiro frowns, but it’s not like you want to pay attention either. 

“yeah, you’re right.” she turns her music down some, giving you a thumbs up before she starts writing. 

MINA ASHIDO, who is always talking to you during class. it doesn’t bother you much, but aizawa often has to interrupt his teaching to tell her to pay attention. due to all of her talking, she doesn’t get the best grades, but you try your best to help her!

“hey y/n? me and the squad are gonna be hanging in my room if you wanna come! it will be fun.” mina whisper shouts. 

“sure, i will.” you smile at mina, turning back to your notes. 

“oh, did you hear that-“ 

“mina, stop talking in my class, or i will send you to detention.” aizawa clears his throat, going back to his lesson. 

“i’ll tell you later..” mina tries to focus on the lesson, visibly confused. 

“i could help you later if you want.” mina nods in agreement. 

TSUYU ASUI, who is always giving you little snacks and sometimes packs your lunch for you. sometimes she’ll even bring homemade food, which tastes very good. 

your stomach grumbles quietly. you forgot to eat breakfast and it’s the class before lunch. you stare at the clock, willing it to go faster. 

“y/n, are you hungry, kero? i made some homemade cookies if you want one.” your eyes light up at tsu’s words and you eagerly nod your head. 

tsu hands you a cookie which you take a bite of. “mmm!” you whisper, taking another bite. tsu puts her cookies away. 

“im glad you like them, kero.” 

TORU HAGAKURE, who always lets you borrow her school supplies. pencils, highlighters, erasers, anything you need. 

“alright class, take out you pencil and notebook. you’re gonna need it.” your teacher says. you grab your notebook from your bag, searching for a pencil as well. 

hagakure taps you on the shoulder. “y/n? here, take this.” she gives you a pencil which you accept. “thanks hagakure!” you smile at her. 

“do you need a highlighter too? fee free to use mine.” hagakure has a few highlighters lined up on the desk in the middle of you and her. 

“you’re really awesome for letting me use your school supplies hagakure, thanks.” you tell her at the end of class

“o-oh, it’s nothing. just trying to help out a friend.”

*taps mic*

denki likes making out with you in almost-public.

making out with you while he’s on the phone. he’s biting and sucking in the soft skin of your neck as you bite back whines aching to spill out your mouth while listening to sero rave about a boss he’s trying to beat in elden ring that denki is dodging a fade with in his own game. he pulls off, saying “yeah bro, you’re better than me i’m not even trynna bother that dude.” and his friend laughs in response, continuing his rant. he then goes on mute and immediately devours your lips, gripping your hips as you move your body in sync with his on his lap. when sero asks him a question he unmutes to answer, then goes back on mute until it’s his que to talk again. when sero eventually hangs up, he looks at you with a lovesick expression and shit eating grin.

straight up tongue kissing you in the unisex bathroom of the arcade you and your friends went out to a group. he got tired of trying to control himself for your sake. if it was up to him, he would’ve pulled you on his lap and made out with you right in front of everybody. but, he realizes he needs to have a little decorum. so he decided to do everyone a favor and sneak off with you to finally have you to himself. although, he does get a kick off you trying to pull yourself back together when he leads you back to everyone as if his tongue wasn’t just down your throat.

or even, pulling you into secret corners of the hallway to steal a quick make out session before class. his hands are placed on your waist at the hem of your skirt threatening to go too low, rhythmically sucking on your bottom lip like it’s candy. your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as he gets a taste of your lips before he has to sit in class and act like he doesn’t wanna kiss you again, sitting you on your desk and sucking at your neck like he’s a vampire out for blood. but again– decorum.

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

☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. santa’s little helper.

about. dressing up as slutty santa warrants some unwanted attention, luckily, sukuna is there to play santa’s grumpy little helper. merry christmas.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, meet cute, reader gets harassed/cat-called, reader is wearing a dress, modern!sukuna, fem!reader. it’s still christmas somewhere - enjoy !! (1K).

you meet modern bf!sukuna at a train station on christmas eve.

all your friends have gone home with guys that they fancied from the club, all the ubers in the area are either booked out or have sky high prices just to get you thirty minutes away not to mention the fact that it’s ice cold and your stupid mean girls themed santa outfit keeps riding up.

if you huff hard enough a cloud of smoke appears in place of your breath — like that of a mighty dragon, accumulating in the night air. it entertains you for all but a moment and doesn’t waste enough time for your train to come faster.

it’s not due for another thirteen minutes.

in that time you watch gangs of girls, groups of guys and just about anybody come and go from the station. your platform isn’t packed but it’s not too empty to the point where you feel unsafe.

“hey pretty girl.” ugh. as if your night couldn’t get any worse, a dingy looking stranger appears from nowhere — breathing down your neck, nastily drinking you in as if you’re a free shot at a bar. like you’re easy.

waving your hand away, you focus your gaze on the platform across the track and pray that someone notices your predicament. “no thank you.”

“oh come on gorgeous, give a guy a chance!” they press, crossing all of your boundaries to be in your space. even as you try to walk away, you can still feel the ghost of their sleazy words against the bare and exposed parts of your skin.. “where are you going all dressed like that, with no one to admire you?”

on instinct, you pull down your skirts as if to hide yourself from greedy eyes — storming down the platform. “none of your business!”

“hey now, little miss santa! don’t you wanna know? i’ve got a sleigh you can ride!”

“not interested! i’m all good.”

“why? you got a boyfriend?”

“yeah, i do.” you lie smoothly.

“then where is he?” the stranger mocks and closes in on you — you look around pathetically, waiting for some good passer-by to come and help you.

a heavy hand land’s on the stranger’s shoulder — making them jump in shock. you watch as the hand squeezes down, almost tight enough to break bone. “right here,” says a gravelly, husky voice that instantly fills you with warmth and relief. stepping aside, your hero reveals himself — tall with rippling muscles and spiralling black tattoos, lazy blood red eyes and a snarl that reveals sharp fangs and canines. all topped off my tufts of soft pink hair, which don’t do anything to dim his threatening aura. “you got a problem?”

“n-no! sorry man, i didn’t—“

“fuck off, will ya?” your hero spits out venomously and the stranger nods — practically disappearing into thin air after that. your shoulders sag and tensions dissipate from your body. “you okay…miss?”

tentatively, you give the pink-haired man your name — you owe him that much after he’d more or less saved your skin. “all good, thanks to you…”

“sukuna.” he doesn’t look at you, instead pulling a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and lighting one with a flicker of a flame. it’s like he feels you watching him in dismay, and laughs as he takes a drag. it’s kind of sexy, you’ll admit — the way he throws his head back let’s you see the thick lines of black ink extending down his neck. “ticket office is closed and security is shit here. small station. no one’s watching me smoke.”

“right…thanks, sukuna.”

he finally turns to you, deep and blood red eyes drinking you in — almost scrutinising you. you squirm under his gaze, heat prickling at the back of your neck and providing some protection from the cold. “where were you off too?”

“christmas party with some friends.”

“where are they now?”

“sucking face somewhere, and no, they didn’t offer me an Uber before they left.”

sukuna taps the ash from his cigarette and it falls away in the icy breeze. “shit night.”

wringing your fingers, you shrug a little bit. “i guess it could have been worse. so thank you for helping out,” you hum appreciatively. “all i have to do now is wait for this stupid train.”

a beat of silence passes between you both, only broken by your chattering teeth and sukuna’s occasional sniff between puffs of smoke. you hate smokers, but you don’t ask him to stop. not after he’d helped you and is willing to be your human shield until your train comes. anyone else would have left by now.

“i can give you a ride home, if you want?”

you frown… was he, trying to make a move on you?

“if you have a car why are you at a train station.”

sukuna smirks slowly, dropping his cig to the floor and crushing it under his sneaker. you don’t remind him that there’s a law against smoking on the platform. “i’m waiting for my little brother to get home from a trip with his friends. we don’t live too far from here and i offered to pick him up from the station.” he shrugs.

you blink up at him with wide eyes. you’d never imagine a man that looks and carries himself like he does to care so deeply for someone else. you suppose you’re judging a book by his cover.

you’re dressed like slutty santa, so you honestly have no right to do so.

“what’s your brother’s name?”

“yuuji. it’s just us, no parents. that’s why i’m picking him up.” sukuna turns to you, running a hand through his messy pink undercut. “look, i promise i’m not some creep. y’just look cold and i’m not about to let some girl get fucked over by weirdos at this time of night. i won’t touch you, but you can sit in the back with yuuji if it makes you feel better. people usually prefer his stupid face over mine anyways.” he mumbles that last part to himself, but is pleasantly surprised by the cute flutter of laughter that escapes you. “what’s s’funny?”

with a hand resting on your bare stomach, you try to contain yourself. “is it the tattoos or the fact that you have resting bitch face?”

“both.” sukuna sniggers in response, shoving his cold hands deep into his pockets. “so, you takin’ up the offer or what?”

“yeah, thank you…sukuna,” you smile, subtly sliding up beside him for warmth on the chilly platform. “i’d like to meet yuuji for myself, see which brother i prefer.”

“oh fuck you.”

“maybe some other time.”

and even though he’s sure that you’re joking, sukuna detects a glint of honestly in your sparkling eyes as the train finally approaches — it’s yellowing light from inside the carriage only illuminating that spark. you turn your head, trying to spot yuuji while he ponders your words.

sukuna is definitely going to ask for your number after he drops you home. he’ll have to thank that brat of a baby brother yuuji for the opportunity next — without him begging for sukuna to come get him, this would have never happened.

you would have never met.

it’d be a great christmas story to tell the grandkids too. so he’d really have to thank yuuji, even though sukuna would never hear the end of it.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

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.

favorite boys

breaking news: teenage girl is procrastinating on tumblr

breaking news: teenage girl is me

breaking news: i really need to do shit

thank you for the warm welcome here !! 😳 have some msby osamu !!

IZUKU STUDYING LATE AT NIGHT!!1!1!!1 (cause I’m also always drawing him late at night hehe)

(I am so sorry that like half of my posts r me crying ab izuku 😔😔🫶🫶💖💖 I love our manz)

favourite t-shirt

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

warnings: insecure makki, talk of having children, suggestive

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s too soon for what he thinks next.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’s found a solid job by then.

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

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

the food can always be reheated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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