#hot off the press guys

[thedo0zyslider]

Explosions Across Lifetimes - Chapter Thirty Four: Deja Vu - 5k Words

Jimmy makes an alliance with Fwhip, finally gets a tour of Gobland, and has a strange moment right in the middle of it. Right when he thought the whole day would be perfect, too.

A03 Link

Fwhip sees Jimmy again soon after the dragon fight, but not too soon. At least a month or so has passed, and he’s done good work in Gobland. He wanted to see the Sheriff sooner, but he’d been a busy bee! The goblin had gotten more than a little fixated on his work, and it was quite easy to lose track of times in the caves. Actually, it might’ve been closer to two months, now that he thought about it….

But that two month time span doesn't matter now! Because he’s currently on his way to see the Sheriff, right now, as he’s thinking this! He’d decided that they’d been on good terms long enough, and had exchanged enough messages, for an alliance to be a possibility. So that’s why he was heading towards Tumble Town! He was gonna propose an alliance between the mesa and Gobland, two shulker boxes full of goodies with him to sweeten the deal.They held some of the best materials, the best rocks, he’d managed to find over the past two months. And some good quality bones and bonemeal from the bone farm he had! Everyone needed rocks and bonemeal! They were important for building and decoration!

Fwhip skipped along to the mesa, absolutely sure this offer would work. No matter what that anxious little voice in the back of his head said. Jimmy would have to be stupid to not accept the deal, or at least bargain with him, and the Sheriff was anything but stupid! He would certainly go along with the idea, certainly! (At least, that’s what Fwhip told to calm said voice in the back of his head. And what he also kinda believed.) 

He arrives at Tumble Town quicker than expected, his arms only aching a little bit from the weight of the shulker boxes. It seems his general excitement, and a new familiarity with the path to the mesa, had made his movements a lot faster; and he’d gotten here in record time. Fwhip skids down the side of the fishbowl, a little clumsier due to the boxes in his hands, and makes his way across the bottom of it until he finds the man he’s looking for.

“Sheriff!” He called out, spotting a very recognizable hat standing a few feet away. The blonde was leaning against a lamppost, watching something in the distance when Fwhip spotted him. At the call of his name Jimmy jumped, his tail swishing in surprise behind him, and his ears turned backwards towards the sound in fright. The goblin can’t help but giggle, and keeps masking his way towards where his friend rests. 

The Sheriff spins around, arms flying out a little to balance himself. Something he looks quite silly while doing, with his ears still pinned backwards and all that. The absolute goober the Sheriff could be sometimes, honestly. “Fwhip, hi!” He says, reaching up to fix his hat's position. Something he does a lot, the goblin has noticed, anytime the accessory moves even slightly. It must be a very important hat to him then, if it needed so much adjusting.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, Sheriff!” Fwhip says, coming a halt. He sets the boxes down behind him, in what he knows is a half hearted attempt to hide them. Jimmy ignores the obvious boxes for the sake of the bit, focusing all his attention  on the goblin in front of him. Plus, asking about them would ruin the whole surprise, and that wouldn’t be fun at all, now would it?

“It’s alright!” Jimmy says, casually resting a hand on a hip. When he next speaks, he exaggerates his slight southern accent for a silly effect. Fwhip can;t help but smile at the sound, and has to hold back a small giggle or two. “What brings you to Tumble Town?”

“I have come to offer you a deal, actually!” The goblin says, tail swishing behind him with a sort of dramatic flare. He shifts himself further in front of the boxes, hiding the two tall stack behind his head just slightly. It’s the best he can do, really, without having thought out the surprise plan. He’d really just grabbed the shulkers in his excitement to get here, and had decided to improvise along the way. This was, rather sadly, the best he could do with improvising right now.

Jimmy looks curious, his eyes lighting up with intrigue. “Have you?” He asks, gaze pointedly avoiding the two shulkers boxes just barely hidden behind the goblin’s small frame. He’s being a really good sport about not spoiling the rather obvious surprise for him, Fwhip has to admit! Bravo Sheriff!

“Yep!” Fwhip said, dragging the shulker boxes out in front of him, his tail flicking in even more excitement than he had been feeling beforehand. He ignores the scrapping sound they make along the grass, and presents them proudly in front of the Sheriff. “You can have all these rocks and all this bonemeal! And access to my bone farm!” 

“In exchange for..?” Jimmy asked, trailing off at the end there. Despite that he eyed the shulkers excitedly, seemingly eager to see what was inside them. And Fwhip did let him have a peak, so the other would know he wasn’t lying about the deal or anything; and that the boxes really were full of a stupid amount of rocks and bonemeal.

“Just an alliance!” Fwhip says, watching as the Sheriff inspects each box in turn. He lifts both their lids open, and his eyes seem to sparkle at all the contents inside. The goblin, who had been watching the reaction closely, can’t help the happy grin that stretches across his face.

“You have yourself a deal then!” Jimmy snaps the lid of the second box shut, and reaches out to shake his hand. Fwhip takes it quickly, feeling his tail curl up in joy behind him. His foolproof plan had worked! Like it always would! Like all his plans totally did! Tumble Town was now Gobland’s first official ally!

“Great!” Fwhip shakes his new ally’s hand maybe a bit too aggressively in his excitement, but the Sheriff just laughs it off. He returns the energy of the handshake happily, also excited to have this alliance it seems, and causes the both of them to giggle at the force of it all. This had been a great decision so far, just like the goblin thought it would be.

“When I get my gunpowder trade set up, you’ll be the first to get some.” The Sheriff promises after their handshake, going to tip his hat for effect. His ears are upright too, a further indicator of how thrilled he is about this deal; even if his tone of voice and other body language is showing it less. The ears always betray emotions, something the goblin knows far too well.

Fwhip’s tail moves in joy behind him for what has to be the million time that day. “Oh that’ll be great!” He doesn’t even know what this gunpowder farm could possibly look like, but he’s getting excited about it regardless. He’s sure however Jimmy builds and decorates the farm, it's gonna be all western and amazing, just like he is!

“And I really have to see your empire now, if we’re in an alliance.” Jimmy adds, picking up one of the shulker boxes. Presumably to take it to his storage area, and dump all the materials off there. A much better plan than Fwhip’s had been, which was just to let them sit there or something. They weren’t his materials anymore, after all, and therefore he didn’t really have to think about what to do with them.

“You can come over whenever!” Fwhip picks up the second box, his arms still a little achy from the trip over here. But the pain was manageable. He’d carried far more materials across a dangerous cave in much worse conditions many of times before now. This really was nothing compared to that.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you busy a lot?” Jimmy asks, starting off towards the storage area with a shulker box now securely in his arms. Fwhip scurries after him, struggling to keep up with the Sheriff’s longer stride. He almost drops the shulker he’s carrying because of it, but manages to keep it in his arms, thankfully.

“Eh, I always need to take a break.” The goblin says, shrugging the best he can with the cargo in his hands. Jimmy notices he’s lagging behind after a minute, and starts walking slower; which the goblin greatly appreciated. The long walk back home would really suck if both his legs and his arms were already achy.

“I’ll stop by soon then!” Jimmy says, right as they reach his storage room. Which might also be his house. Fwhip isn’t too familiar with the layout of this place yet, which he was keen to change very very soon. They are allies now, after all!

Fwhip makes an excited sound in response, and sets his shulker box on the ground next to Jimmy’s. And after that, he spends the rest of the afternoon unloading and sorting them with the Sheriff, all the while they discuss when the Gobland tour will be. Tail flicking in happiness the whole time, Fwhip insists that Jimmy can come over anytime as they discuss it, and mentally clears his shedulce in preparation for it. 

They sort through the alliance gifts together, and Fwhip knows the next few days are gonna be horrible for the waiting factor, but will be so, so worth it in the end. It will all be so, so worth it when Jimmy can finally see the empire he’s so proud of making.

He just hopes the Sheriff will love it just as much as he does.

______________________________________

Barely two days later, the Sheriff finds himself standing at the entrance to Gobland. Fwhip had no idea he was coming, unless he’d checked the message Jimmy had sent when he’d left Tumble Town. And it had been over an hour since then, one with no response, so he really hoped the goblin had just seen it and forgot to message back. He didn’t wanna be rude about anything by barging into his empire unannounced. Even if Fwhip did do that to him all the time, so maybe the goblin wouldn’t think that's rude… 

He gets off Bullseye slowly, one of the two wild horses he’d taken in recently. He and his brother Arrow had been found injured in the mesa a month or so ago, and nursed back to health. Now they were the Sheriff’s loyal steads, furthering that old western look he had, and the current quickest way of travel. Minus elytra, which he hadn’t gotten around too yet. The End still scared him after their last rather disastrous excursion into the dimension.

The Sheriff shoots Fwhip a message, expecting him to take a minute or so to get up here. Let alone see the message. But, to his surprise, the goblin seems to sprint from wherever he is straight towards the entrance. He pushes open the big door less than five minutes later, and the Sheriff can only blink down at him in surprise while his brain tries to process the sudden appearance of his friend.

“You have a horsie!?” Is the first thing Fwhip says, gaze instantly landing on Bullseye. His eyes widen, and seem to light up like stars at the sight of the Sheriff’s trusty steed. Like he’d never seen a horse, or anything like it, before. Which, considering that he lived almost exclusively in a cave, was probably the case.

“Yeah!” Jimmy says, giving his horse’s side a small pet. He could be rather nervous around strangers, and affection tended to help calm him. He didn’t want the horse freaking out and trampling Fwhip, especially with how small the latter was. “His name’s Bullseye.”

“Can I pet him!?” The goblin asks, walking forward cautiously. He looks up at bullseye with a mixture of fear and curiosity, and still that sense of wonder lingering in his eyes. It’s like a little kid seeing a dog for the first time, his reaction is so wholesome. And also cute as hell, the Sheriff might add. Like, really really cute.

“Of course!”  Jimmy says, grabbing one of Bullseye's reins. He slowly moves the horse closer to Fwhip, giving him comforting pets on the back just in case. But it seems his worries were a little on the overprotective side. Bullseye seemed to be getting used to people more and more as the days went on, and actually seemed curious about the small man in front of him. Fwhip reached up slowly, and looked absolutely amazed for about five minutes as he pet the horse on his spotted muzzle.

“Sorry. We don’t see many horses in the caves, obviously.” Fwhip says, sounding rather sheepish. He runs his fingers through the horse's coarse fur, being very gentle due to his sharp claws. He’d feel downright horrible if he scratched the first horse he ever got to meet, especially one so nice too. Especially if it was one that belonged to Jimmy.

“Is this your first time seeing one?” The Sheriff hums, his earlier suspicions all but confirmed. He wondered what other above ground animals Fwhip, and by extension the other goblins, hadn’t seen. Which made him wonder what cave animals he also hadn’t seen before, and made him wonder how different they would be from the ones he was used to. Living underground and in the dark was sure to produce such different creatures from ones that lived in the air and trees and under the sun’s rays after all.

“Up close, yeah.” The goblin confirms, looking absolutely smitten as Bullseye starts to nuzzle into his palm. Jimmy smiles at the sight, and makes a mental note to bring Bullseye or his brother arrow every time he visits in the future. Even if he has elytra. The happiness on Fwhip’s face is absolutely worth a few more hours of travel.

“We have a whole herd in Tumble Town! You have to see them next time you come over!” Jimmy exclaims, seeing a spare fence post near the door. Probably for this exact reason, actually, since horseback was a common mode of travel for a lot of people. He ties the horse to it, and let's Fwhip get a handful more pets in before he directs his attention away. The Sheriff is sure if he didn’t do anything, the goblin would spend a week mesmerized in front of this horse.

“You mean it!?” Fwhip’s tail flicks in excitement for the first time all day, and Jimmy can’t help but he proud that his words caused it. He wanted to make Fwhip happy all the time, every day, because he loved seeing him happy. He loved seeing him so much he could hardly believe it. If he could make this goblin smile everyday fir the rest of his life, the Sheriff knows he’d be the luckiest man to ever walk the earth.

“Of course, they’ll love you!” The blonde says, deciding now is a good time to move his friends' attention back to the original purpose for today’s meetup. He was itching to finally see this cave empire that had been so personally hyped up to him over the months, after all. “Now, about that tour you promised me?”

“Ah, right, of course!” Fwhip says, hurrying back over to the entrance door. “But first, I also have a friend to show you!” The goblin says, and pushes the empire’s door open. And as soon as they step inside it, the Sheriff is greeted with what the clearly a rather large hog, one that has to be native to the caves for it to even be down here in the first place.

“Woah!” Jimmy exclaims, taking an instinctive step back from the rather large and intimidating hog now infront of him. “That’s a big pig!” This was probably how Fwhip had gotten here so fast, now that he thought about it, This thing was definitely fast as hell, he didn’t even have to see it run to know that. Heck, it could probably keep up with Bullseye on a good day.

“His name is Snort, and he’s my personal stead!” Fwhip says, sounding very proud of that fact. The boar is very clearly dear to him, if his flicking tail and happily perked up ears say anything. “His brother Boris is the Gobland ambassador of Animalia!” The hog himself isn;t actually the ambassador, as Fwhip will explain later. He just accompanies the actual goblin ambassador, but that’s basically the same thing to the goblin king anyways. The animal empire would probably like an animal representative anyways.

Jimmy blinks, impressed by the statement. He didn’t have anything like an ambassador yet, and should probably look into all that political stuff when he gets home. Even if politics aren’t really his forte . “Is he friendly?”

“Ohh he’s very friendly,” Fwhip says, walking closer towards his pet. He beckons the Sheriff forward, and Jimmy approaches slowly. He’s still rather hesitant, considering how big the animal is, and how he’s never been around anything bigger than a horse. “Loves being pet, too!” Fwhip is clearly inviting him to meet the animal, just like the goblin had done with Bullseye not even ten minutes earlier. So the Sheriff decides to get it over with, and meet a giant pig for the first time ever in his life. And it certainly won’t be the last.

Jimmy reaches his hand out slowly, hesitant as it gets closer to the frankly massive hog in front of him; one that could totally kill him if it wanted to. But Snort does not kill him, or even attack him, all he does is make a sound as the Sheriff gives him a scratch behind the ear. He seems to be enjoying the feeling, and Jimmy gives him a few more scratches before eventually pulling his hand away.

“Not so scary is he?” Fwhip asks, giving the boar a big hug. Well, the biggest hug he can give, with how big the animal is compared to its owner. And how small the goblin is in general. It’s still a cute sentiment regardless, and the cave hog makes a happy grumble in the back of his throat. It seems to be a big sap, just like it’s owner was.

“No, not really.” Jimmy says, smiling at Snort. He really wasn’t that scary, not after a few minutes at least. Even though he still had tusks that could one hundred percent impale a man and a bad case of resting bitch face. But, despite that, he was friendly, and maybe kinda cute. Oh, and also Fwhip liked him a lot, so Jimmy decided he would too. Anyone or anything his ally is fond of is a friend of the Sheriff’s, after all!

“And he’s gonna help us on the tour!” Fwhip exclaims, crawling up onto the saddle that rested on Snort’s back. Jimmy watched him in amusement, his ears flicking passively as well. Once the goblin has situated himself on the saddle, he points forward, and pulls on the hogs reins lightly. “Onward! For the grand tour of Gobland!” He exclaims, and then they set off deeper into the caves, the tour he’d been waiting for for so long finally starting.  

They start on a tour around the empire, Fwhip showing him nearly every building and telling him what each one’s function is. Jimmy appreciates the detailed explanation, but is a little surprised. It’s certainly more than he would, and has, done for tours of Tumble Town before. He also hopes he can remember all the information being thrown at his ears, knowing he’s gonna feel a little bad if he forgets on future visits; so he pays attention the best he can. Even if it's hard not to get distracted by the big flashy signs and complex railways.

The goblin tells him about everything he’s built in these last few months it feels like. The Sheriff is told about the blacksmiths and the stone masons, the most recent and profitable shops for the empire that Jimmy just has to check out some time because they have the best deals on rocks and tools. He tells him more about the bone farm he mentioned, and how successful the endeavor has been, how half of the other emperors are gonna get scammed when he changes the pass for it. But not Jimmy though, the Sheriff will never be scammed by his most loyal ally. He points out the broken cobble farm he’s proud of regardless, all the new roads that had been built, the rather impressive pen and barn for the pigs and hogs. (Much better than the horse’s pen at home, Jimmy does have to admit to himself He’s really gotta work on those building skills.) If, in his excitement, the goblin accidentally slips up and says something about secret railways while they put Snort in said animal pen, then Jimmy chooses to ignore it. Especially since one of those definitely not real tunnels is said to go to Joel’s empire, and the Sheriff totally does not want to take advantage of that. Not at all.

He listens to Fwhip’s whole ramble as they walk, soaking up every word he can. Even if the goblin is rambling, and talking much too fast for most people to keep up with. But Jimmy still tries to do so. He likes hearing Fwhip speak, likes hearing his voice. He thinks it's cute too, how the other emperor has a tendency to go on these passionate rambles, seemingly by accident, jumping from topic to topic as they flash across his mind. He clearly has a lot of love for his empire, his people, and all the recent improvements and additions, and the Sheriff can’t help but find that trait both admirable and enticing at the same time.

(He wants Fwhip to rant about him like that, one day..)

The Sheriff caught a small glimpse of Fwhip’s storage room as he walked past, a shine from inside it catching his eye. A pile of gold was stacked against the very back wall of the room, parts of the pile reaching from the floor to the ceiling, while other parts were just small piles of coins scattered across the floor. He only meant to observe the room for a second, but the universe had a different plan; it seemed. Ths Sheriff blinked once, and suddenly the storage room was replaced with another sight, another room and a different place in time, one that felt vaguely familiar to the Sheriff. But only if he really concentrated on the feeling.

He thinks this is a vision of somesort, and has no idea why one is happening to him right now. And when he had really wanted things to go well with Fwhip, too. But regardless of what he hopes, his vision goes black before he blinks, and then he is transported to a whole different place in time entirely.

A pile of what was presumably old and failed inventions crowded the corner of a study room. Some were broken and had missing pieces, while others were covered in rust. Parts of the pile almost reached up to the ceiling, and he'd never figured out why the failed items were kept, having chalked it up to hoarder tendencies. To each their own, but J̵̮̥̲̻̳̭̠̿͒i̸̡͕͕̓̍͋̿̚m̵̩̟̳͙̙̣͝ḿ̷̡̻̺̼̲̑͌͌͝ỹ̵̛̮̬̗͙̼̺̻̝̾̒͘ didn’t really see a point in keeping such junk. Maybe F̵̩̻̺͕͍͊̂w̷̧͙̙̭̯͎̲̒͊ͅh̸̢̦̹̳͙̼͐̈́i̶̧̯̙̻̳̣̲͝ͅp̸̺̰̣̻̓̀͐̑͑͛̓ was just reallt attached to his inventions, or saw some possible future use in them. Somehow 

The walls were lined with various blueprints in sketches. All of them were quite detailed, nothing J̵̮̥̲̻̳̭̠̿͒i̸̡͕͕̓̍͋̿̚m̵̩̟̳͙̙̣͝ḿ̷̡̻̺̼̲̑͌͌͝ỹ̵̛̮̬̗͙̼̺̻̝̾̒͘ could decipher, especially not at a distance. Or up close, probably, he wasn’t good with all that stuff. The papers were all clearly of varying ages, some just barely turning yellows while some of the blue sheets looked ready to fall off the wall. F̵̩̻̺͕͍͊̂w̷̧͙̙̭̯͎̲̒͊ͅh̸̢̦̹̳͙̼͐̈́i̶̧̯̙̻̳̣̲͝ͅp̸̺̰̣̻̓̀͐̑͑͛̓’s artistic prowess was quite impressive, and the ability to draw was something his fellow rulers rarely saw. Usually they saw his sketches when the drawings had been turned into full functioning inventions. One’s trying to kill or explode him or something, usually.

Jimmy feels his vision go black again before he blinks for a second time, and leaves the weird vision just as quickly as he had entered it. The strange study room was gone, and he was looking at the storage room and the large pile of gold once more. Fwhip was now standing next to him again, the little goblin giving him a worried look. ‘Sheriff, you okay?” He asks, hesitantly giving his vest a tug, careful that his claws don’t catch on the fabric. “You just kinda stopped walking and zoned out..”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jimmy says, shaking his head a bit. His vision seems to be spotty from his, well, vision he’d just had. Hopefully it will clear up in a few minutes, or this visit is gonna have to end early. He can’t really admire Gobland’s greatness if he can’t see it, after all. “You can carry on with the tour!”

Fwhip does not carry on the tour like his guest wanted him to. Instead he raises an eyebrow, and lightly tugs on the Sheriff’s vest again. His friend is still worrying, despite the Sheriff’s reassurance. (An admittedly bad reassurance after that, but whatever. It was good enough in Jimmy’s head, and worked on the people back in Tumble Town well enough.) “Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely positive!” Jimmy insists again, hesitantly putting a hand over Fwhip’s. That seems to convince him just a little bit, the expression of his face softening slowly. He lets go of the vest, his movements still reluctant, and Jimmy moves his hand away as well. The goblin gives him one last worried glance for a bit, but slowly starts up the tour again regardless. For Jimmy’s sake more than anything, probably. They move past the storage room, and go towards what else Fwhip has yet to show him. Even if there wasn’t a lot left to tour, really.

The tour is now just showing him small bits and pieces of the empire, and recapping everything as they head back towards the entrance. But with a lot less rambling this time, and a lot more digestible information. Oh, and Fwhip shows him where the bone farm he mentioned is, and also gives him a pass. A forever pass, as he calls it, tipping Jimmy off that he’s probably gonna scam all the rest of their friends with their own passes. Or that’s the plan, at the very least. And as the Sheriff, Jimmy should probably stop him from doing that. But no one’s actually been scammed yet it seems, and this is Fwhip , so he guesses that it’s fine for now…

Speaking of Fwhip, his occasional glances back at Jimmy for the remainder of the tour, ones that still held concern, do not go unnoticed. The Sheriff finds himself rather endeared by them, and cannot help the small flutter in his chest whenever their eyes meet. But Fwhip doesn’t need to worry, because he’s not lying. He truly is fine after the vision, other than being a little startled and put off by the whole experience.

To reassure the other, Jimmy does reach for his hand towards the end of their walk back. Fwhip doesn’t take it immediately, having to process what’s happening. But eventually, he does take the Sheriff’s, faces a little red, and gives his hand a squeeze. Jimmy feels his heart flutter at all of that, and squeezes back. Judging by the heat on his face, he’s pretty sure he’s turning red because of his goblin friend, and not for the first time either.

Fwhip is…. handsome. Cute in his own goblin-y little way. Enough to tug on the Sheriff’s heartstrings and make him blush ever so slightly whenever they would talk. It causes a new type of feeling to flutter up in his chest, one that is not unwelcome. It is just unfamiliar. And like all new things, Jimmy needs time to adjust to it, even if it is an amazing new thing.

Being so attached to a boy is also ….a new thing for the Sheriff, to say the least. Well, he knew he could be into other guys, he’d known that for a few years now; it’s just…different to actually be living it is all. Very different, when it's real instead of some fantasy. And especially when it's a short goblin king instead of any buff dude he’d been imagining so far. But not much can be done about that, really.

This feeling feels vaguely familiar if he thinks about it, kinda like how that room in that vision had felt; familiar . He doesn't know how or why either of those things feel like that, but the Sheriff doesn't mind it. It makes all the newer feelings feel a lot less scary. It makes being with Fwhip like this a lot less scary, which he likes more than he would ever admit.

The tour ends as quick as it starts, and they are back where they started at the tunnel leading to the surface. The tunnel who’s copper roof needs some cleaning, Fwhip notes, spying the rust on top of it. He also groans about having to get up there, and how many hours that would take him and how much honey he would need. Jimmy frowns at how disappointed his friend sounds, and decides to extend a helping hand.

“I can help!” Jimmy offers, taking a glance up at the tunnel’s roof. It would take hours for one person to clean this by themselves, especially a goblin like Fwhip. The roof is rather low down, to where Jimmy has to bend over a bit to avoid hitting his head, but the goblin would still have to do a bit of maneuvering to reach most parts of the roof.

Fwhip looks over at him, clearly surprised by the offer. “You really don’t have too.” He says, tail flicking behind him. He sounds so sincere, like he wouldn’t want to make the Sheriff stay any longer. Or make him do anything he wouldn’t enjoy doing. But Jimmy likes spending time with the goblin, and likes helping him out, so this is no big deal at all!

“I insist! It’ll go quicker with the two of us.” He says, taking another glance up at the roof. Two people really would make it go faster, considering all of the roof is either fully oxidized or halfway through the process. This would genuinely take hours to do single handedly, and would also be a horribly unpleasant thing as well. He would feel bad if he just left without even offering to help, or without making any sort of attempt too.

“Well, fine, if you insist.” Fwhip agrees, and then runs off to get the honey from his storage chest. He says he’ll only be a minute, and is true to his word. It feels like Jimmy blinks once and then the goblin is already running back, arms full of the sticky substance. This guy has to have like, super speed or something, or maybe all goblins are just fast. Which is definitely something to inquire over later.

Or his head is still messed up from earlier, which is also equally as possible. But again, that was something else to inquire over later. When this roof was clean and he was back at home; and therefore could properly check himself for any side effects or injuries that vision may have caused. He doesn’t think there are any side effects, but better safe than sorry as they say.

Fwhip hands him a bunch of the honey he brought, and they make quick work of the roof together, probably cutting the usual cleaning time in half. The goblin tends to the lowest parts of the roof, while Jimmy bends his arm awkwardly to reach some of the highest ones; the ones he has to duck to not hit his head on. It takes a bit to get each section clean, but it’s a pretty satisfying process. Even if his arm does start to hurt a bit in the process.

Fwhip even scurries his way onto Jimmy’s shoulder, reaching for the highest part of the roof neither of them can reach on their own. The highest point of the roof towards the entrance, where it opens up to match the height of the rest of the cave. Fwhip cleans it quickly as possible, and Jimmy tries not to think about the warmth on his shoulders. It’s nice that the goblin feels comfortable enough and already trusts the Sheriff enough  to climb on him like this; the thought making him feel all fuzzy inside.

Fwhip hops down once he’s done, and starts  heading back towards the entrance once again like nothing had happened. Though the happy movement of his tail betrays him, and Jimmy watches it fondly as he follows the little goblin back. He smiles fondly at the sight, and goes to hold Fwhip’s hand again. The goblin takes it instantly this time, and they both squeeze each other's palms once more; just like earlier. 

They end up outside Gobland’s entrance door once again, Fwhip giving Bullseye even more attention before the Sheriff departs. The two leave each other with promises to see each other soon, sooner than they had this time. Jimmy agrees to meet up in a week from now with a smile, and feels his face turn red at the beaming grin the goblin gives in return. They’d just set the date, and he already can’t wait for the week to pass.

Fwhip gives his hand one last friendly squeeze, and then lets go so the Sheriff can mount his horse. He calls out goodbyes as Jimmy rides off into the sunset, all the way until his friend has disappeared into the tree line and is no longer visible. The goblin ruler only stands outside for a minute after that, before darting back in the cave excitedly. He has to tell Snort and the other hogs all about today, just like he tells them about all the fun things; even if they can’t understand him. (They like hearing him talk regardless, Fwhip is pretty sure.)

The days before the visit will not go fast enough, even as Fwhip works to make them go faster. He cannot wait for that fateful day, and knows the excitement will bubble up inside him no matter what he does. He can’t help feeling like this, not when it comes to the Sheriff, and won’t try to either. Today had been the best day of his, and hopefully Jimmy’s, life so far, and he knows the next time they meet will be even better.

[yantao-enthusiast]

just wondering the general consensus rn

[orangetintedglasses]

Don't you have something that you want to protect more than anything else, too? RP+ask blog for Vash the Stampede of Trigun Stampede indie. temporarily selective. canon divergent primary verse set after the final episode of S1 - dubbed S1.5 please read rules before following or interacting rules. // about. // verse+AUs. // ask memes.

[cmbdragon98]

It doesnt matter if it's silicone if I say im cumming in her then damnit im cumming in her

[tonycries]

Isn't That Sweet? (I Guess So) - G.S.

Synopsis. Oh no! Why do your pantíes keep disappearing? Well, maybe your hot roommate knows the answer…

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pànty-stealer! roommate! Gojo, annoyances-to-lovers, he’s REALLY down bad, vírgin! Gojo, oraI (fem receiving), màle màsturbation, pining, face-sítting, jealousy (his side), fírst times, unprotected, creampíe, teary Gojo, pànty-gagging, HEINOUS things, pet names, aIcohol mentions, swearing.

Word count. 8.6k (whoopsies)

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week hehe <3

“Damn…” you sigh at the glaringly empty drawer, rubbing your eyes as if that would make a difference - maybe even magically materialize a fresh pair of panties in front of you. “It’s the second time this month.”

Or was it the third?

But, alas, standing around in your bedroom on a Sunday night does not give you the answers. Or any extra underwear.

Which is why you find yourself making a beeline for the bathroom - teeth gritted, stomach flipping at how very, very exposed you felt underneath the thin fabric of your shorts. Cursing everything from the building’s rundown old washing machine to Gojo’s stupid smile when he took away your laundry basket.

You could’ve sworn you saw your last pair perched right on top of your pile of old clothes, all flimsy and an obscene red that stood out amongst everything else. 

Seriously, how hard would it have been to lose that thing? Maybe you could bother him into buying a new washing machine for-

“Woah there-” Before you know it, you’re crashing face-first into a wall? Pillows? Gojo - unfairly shirtless. “Now, what’s got your panties in a twist, sweetheart?”

The lack thereof. 

Maybe because you can’t say that, maybe because of what looks - feels - like miles upon miles of milky, sculpted skin, you’re instead settling for an extremely eloquent, “Nothing I uh-” But whatever excuse catches in your chest as you raise your face - still smushed between two large pecs - up, up, up and-

Oh. 

It’s not like you’re seeing something new - far from it, actually, unfortunately for your poor heart.

And at first, you’d thought it was some strange habit - hell, maybe the guy just didn’t like t-shirts. But it was around the fourth or fifth time he’d forgone one that you realized Gojo Satoru was just a tease. A no-good, insufferably smug tease that just loved to catch you ogling him. 

But, well, at least the rent was cheap.

Though, you weren’t exactly complaining about the view either…

Because lo and behold stood the infamous campus sweetheart - you knew about fourteen people who’d kill to see this exact sight. Gojo’s cloudy hair tousled, tiny droplets of water twinkling like diamonds against the bathroom light. Bouncing off his rippling abs, his strong arms circling your waist to stop you from falling backwards. Holding you too fucking close against the white towel slung low on his hips. His skin damp, smelling so delicious-

“Gojo, did you use my body lotion?” 

“Awww–” he whines, finally releasing his grip on you. “You were supposed to admire me some more.”

You scoff, eyes darting over broad shoulders - partially to search for your laundry basket, partially because you really couldn’t handle looking right at a shirtless Gojo Satoru any longer. “As if. Get out if you’re done.”

“Damn, woman. Feisty.” Gojo lets out a deep chuckle - smooth and cocky - when you’re hastily shoving him away from the doorframe. “If you wanted to put your hands on me that bad then you jus’ hafta ask, y’know~”

It was way too late for this. 

“Hilarious.” you deadpan, though you let go of where you were gripping Gojo’s arm like it burned. Immediately stepping behind the bathroom door before he could make you lose whatever’s left of your sanity, “Next time you hog the bathroom m’gonna smash those ugly new sunglasses of yours.”

He’s pressing his foot between that gap in the door to stop you from closing it, “Oi, don’t think I don’t see that glint in your eyes, sweetheart.” Yeah, the glint in your eyes that told you if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under already. Which only makes him grin wider, “You’re telling me you really weren’t checkin’ out the most sought-after man on campus jus’ now?”

Huffing in frustration, you cross your arms, “I don’t see Geto Suguru anywhere.”

“...you take that back right now. I’m the pretty best friend.”

“Am not.”

“Am too.”

“Am not. Isn’t that why you’re still single?”

“Th-that’s not- fuckin’ Suguru? Really? Most people would kill for a look of this-” Gojo gestures at his bare torso, and once more you’re reminded that those absolutely awful protein shakes he makes every morning aren’t just for show. “-and you’re getting it daily.”

You reach out a hand, Gojo chest hot underneath your touch. He seizes up instantly, ears tinging red as you muse, “Yeah.” Only to push him fully out the doorway, “I just wish you’d shut up daily, too.”

With that, you’re shutting the door with a resounding slam! Feeling only slightly guilty until you hear Gojo’s squawks of protest from outside, “I really don’t know what’s got your panties in a twist.”

Right. Panties.

Something just a tad more important than recounting exactly how many abs Gojo Satoru had.

You let out a shuddering breath, clamoring to find that spare laundry basket you’d forgotten in here earlier today. Shuffling through through the soft clothes, hoping, praying to find-

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

Fuck. 

Somehow, you’re hiding away your body lotion that night.

---

“Now, listen here, sweetheart. I know you look fuckin’ gorgeous in everything but-”

“Satoru.”

“But that-” he whirls around, pointing a long finger accusingly at the boxers you’d improvised into sleep shorts. Spitting venomously, “-that I cannot allow.”

You’re rolling your eyes at your roommate’s theatrics, forking through your pancakes while he monologues to himself more than you. “Why does it even matter? It was just for yesterday.” you mutter. “I didn’t have any clean uh- panties for the night n’ this worked.”

Thankfully, since the fresh laundry this morning, you’d found two more of your panties - courtesy of a very smug Gojo handing off your clothes. Ah, it felt like the universe itself was smiling down on you.

But oh if you thought the great Gojo Satoru was having a breakdown before then you weren’t prepared for when you lifted your gaze off the kitchen table. Only to meet his - eyes wide, a pretty pink blush coloring his cheeks, lips gawking and stuttering around what looked like a silent, “P-panties-”

You raise a brow, “What’s got you this worked up, Gojo?”

“Nothing.” he clears his throat, “Absolutely nothing at all. Panties? I love- er, wait no-”

“B-besides-” you bristle at the way his heavy gaze was now turning to flit between your face and down below. Dangerously. “They’re not even yours so I don’t know why it matters.”

This seems to snap him out of his little reverie, and he’s immediately standing up straighter, brows furrowing. He continues, in a much more serious tone than before, “They’re his?” 

You stab your breakfast with a bit too much vitriol than necessary, looking at Gojo with narrowed eyes, “If you mean the one my ex left behind then yes. Who else?”

Your ex wasn’t good for much - and Gojo seemed especially hostile towards him because of his distaste for your little living situation. But, hey, at least the guy was helping you out at this time. Albeit unknowingly. 

He’s raising his hands in mock-surrender, shuffling back into the kitchen to work on the rest of those “world famous” Gojo pancakes. “Nothing nothing.” he hums, and maybe it was how sleep-deprived you were - running on a few too many assignments due today and a few too little panties - but you think Gojo’s voice has a bit more bite to it than usual. Jaw clenching as he plows on, “Of course that fucker- in my- our apartment, too. Fuck-”

A spatula is suddenly mere inches from your face, Gojo brandishing it in front of you like a weapon as he declares, “We’re going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture today.”

“Gojo, I-”

“We-” he cuts you off, delicately placing another pancake on your plate - a little truce. So close now that it reminds you of last night - you could feel his minty breath on your face, count every long, sultry eyelash of his. “-are going panty-shopping after Yaga’s lecture n’ I’m paying. That’s final.”

And of course, in true Gojo fashion, you can barely get a word out before he’d immediately ducking out of the kitchen. You almost let your lips curl into a smile, hit with a sudden wave of endearment as you hear Gojo’s long legs padding urgently down the hallway to God-knows-where. Maybe he did know when to be-

Smack!

You jolt as you’re hit with a pair of boxers - fresh ones, thankfully, that you recognized from all the clothes you’d rummaged through last night - plopped unceremoniously onto your lap. Jaw dropping in disbelief when you look up to meet Gojo’s devilish grin. 

“Next time-” he winks, motioning at the fabric you were poking in concern now. “-wear mine.”

The talk of Yaga’s lecture hall that morning was of a pair of burned boxers found right outside your building, everyone speculating what the poor guy had done to have his presumed girlfriend make an example of it like that. 

For you, however, the only thing running through your mind was whether or not you could count properly.

Because surely you remembered it correctly when you counted two new underwear this morning - that gauzy black one and the deep red? Two. Definitely not the singular, sad piece of red fabric laying on your bed after breakfast today? Two. The only one you could find even after scouring through your whole bedroom. 

So where the fuck had that other one gone?

---

(8+ new messages)

Do not answer (roomie)🧿🧿: Hurry up ive been lurking inside that lingerie shop ya told me you liked n’ now the old ladies here look like they wanna eat me alive ＼(º □ º l|l)/

im boooored, gonna stand still n’ start blending in with these mannequins if you dont hurry up istg

Hurry

HURRY

HURRY THEY THINK IM SUSPICIOUS

PLEASE THEYRE GONNA ESCORT ME OUT

┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ i literally SEE YOU outside 

BITCH STOP LAUGHING-

No sooner are you letting out a cackle at Gojo’s rapid-fire texts, you’re looking up to see the man himself being walked outside by two security guards. Squabbling heatedly in a way that had them heaving out long sighs - which, honestly, you felt a stab of relatable empathy for.

“-I swear I’m not a creep I’m jus’-” Gojo’s bickering dies on his tongue as he catches the sight of you walking closer to the commotion. Closer. Taking your sweet sweet time, eyes just barely glazing over him before- you’re walking away. “Hey!” he calls out, stopping you in your tracks. “Now, don’t you dare-” Before turning back to his wary escorts, “I’m with her.”

They exchange a look between each other, and no matter how much you’d like to pretend the scene had absolutely nothing to do with you - you’d rather Gojo doesn’t get banned from the mall altogether. 

“He’s right.” you drone out, one hand grabbing Gojo’s, the other forcing his head into an apologetic bow. Hissing to the side so that only he would hear, “Unfortunately.”

The two security guards now seem more amused than anything at your strange dynamic. One of them raises a brow, muttering, “Well…this one’s certainly a handful.” Turning around to head back to their stations, “Ya better keep a tight leash on your boyfriend.”

You sputter, eyes wide, “Oh- he’s not-”

But it’s too late - they’re both swiftly out of earshot, most likely more than happy to hand over the public nuisance off to you. And Gojo’s looking to you with a smug smirk, voice dropping about an octave deeper as he breathes against your ear, “So, gonna take your boyfriend to help out with lingerie shopping, sweetheart?”

Oh. God. 

This was going to be one long day.

“I’m only here because another one of mine disappeared, y’know.” you hiss, rifling through all the options before you. “Which really has me wondering why-”

“H-hey! How about this one?” Gojo interrupts, shoving a lacy set right in front of your face, his voice just a bit louder than what was appropriate. 

You sigh, catching the eyes of a few disapproving older women around you. “No this is-” But running a thumb over the fabric makes you bite back an insult. And for all how brash Gojo was, maybe his panty selection wasn’t awful. It was a flimsy little thing, gauzy and light blue - the type you’d typically wear on a night out. You meet his boyish grin, admitting, “...not bad.”

“See?” he laughs - eyes glinting with delight as he piles on a few more in your basket. “N’ if you’re impressed with that then you’re gonna be proposing to me when you realize it’s exactly your size-”

You quirk a brow, “How do you know my size, Gojo?”

And this makes his body stiffen, large shoulders squaring up, throat bobbing as he answers,“Uh? Experience?”

Oh, right. You’re rolling your eyes, fighting off a weird little stab of irritation. This probably isn’t the first time he’s come here with a girl, anyway. 

And yet, despite however much of an alleged “catch” Gojo was, he’d - perhaps mercifully - never brought anyone over. You don’t know why, but you didn’t really want to question it.

“A-anyway.” Gojo’s airy voice cuts through your thoughts. And he’s plucking up a few more sets of lingerie for you to sort through, “Can’t let these one, two, three- six lovely lil’ things go to waste now, can we?” At your look of confusion, he chuckles, guiding the two of you to the counter now. “Suguru’s holding a party at his place tonight, how would you like to do the honors of being my cute plus one?”

“I’d rather go with Yaga.”

Though, you really can’t say no - not when Gojo’s flashing you that black card as he pays for everything in an instant. Not when all he can prattle about on the way home  is how gorgeous you’d look together at Geto’s party - how you’ll have to beat everyone off of him with a stick (to which you reply that you’d no sooner do that than beat him with a stick.)

Not when he sits outside your bedroom door as you get ready later that night. Insisting on keeping you company even as you slip out of your towel. Looking over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t peeking in before eagerly turning to grab at one of your new set of silky white panties- only, they weren’t there.

Strange. 

“Hey, Gojo…” you call out, looking underneath your blankets for where you might’ve thrown them about after trying them on. Under your bed, in your drawers, anywhere. “-didn’t we buy six sets?”

“Huh? Dunno, I didn’t count. Just wear the blue one.” he whines, ushering you to hurry up from outside. Face burning because shit, this was you and you were inside - still wrapped up in only that sinful little towel. Oh, would the painful death really be worth it if he happened to accidentally look around? “S’pretty and y’know what else?”

Your voice was muffled as you hastily put on your clothes, “What?”

“It matches my eyes.”

Really strange.

---

Thankfully for Gojo, you didn’t go with Yaga to the party - nor did you find your lost pair of panties, sadly, but that wasn’t too much of a concern for him. 

And here he was - one hurried Uber ride and about several billion death threats from you later. Wishing that you’d actually just acted on one of them because fuck at least then he wouldn’t have to be watching from across the room as some bastard from the university basketball team tried to chat you up.

Gojo can’t even hear the way the girls surrounding him were giggling about something or the other, alcohol making his tongue a little heavier, eyes a bit glassier. 

Nothing like the way that other man was drinking in that polite smile on your face. Tilting your head to face forwards and- God, why won’t you just look at him instead?

Would that guy still look at you that way if he knew you were wearing lingerie matching his eyes right now?

“Not gonna entertain your fans?” Geto’s voice rings through his whirlwind thoughts, eyeing down the forgotten crowd in amusement.

“When have I ever?” Gojo runs a hand through his hair in frustration. 

He lets out a knowing laugh, “Yeah, you little vir-” Turning into a coughing fit when Gojo elbows his best friend straight in his stomach. “Anyways.” Geto gestures with his drink in your direction, as if Gojo hadn’t seen - as if it wasn’t the only thing on his mind right now. “Well, your lil’ roomie there seems to be popular, too, huh? Star player of the basketball team n’ all. 

He clicks his tongue, slumping further against the thumping wall. “So? I’m taller, and more handsome.”

“Are you sure ‘bout that?”

“Y-yeah?” he sputters. 

“Well then why aren’t you over there with her?” Geto hums, lips curling. “Looks t’me like even she doesn’t like him that much so why’re you being a pussy over here? Always sneaking around stealing her-” 

“Shut up-” And Gojo knows he’s riling him up, he knows that Geto wants to see a little drama - maybe finally shut up his pining over the one girl he’s wanted for the past year - and couldn’t have. It’s a trap. But Gojo can’t stop his head from snapping between you and his best friend’s sly smirk. Slurring indignantly, “Of course I’m fuckin’ handsome, n’ taller. I’d make a better boyfriend too and-” He trails off at the sight of that loser leaning in - but more importantly that tiny furrow in your brows, your hands on his chest softly keeping him at bay. “-and m’gonna go over there n’ prove it.”

“Ah, that loser’s gonna thank me later.”

And, hell, Gojo could barely even walk. Barely even think straight as he’s parting the stuffy living room, ignoring whatever whispers and titters were following him. 

“I said no-”

“Hey, sweetheart.” you jump when someone - Gojo - creeps up from behind you. Large build hanging off your own when he nuzzles his face into your neck. And you could feel his toothy grin on your skin, “Missed me?”

Your face burns, “I uh-” Angling your face as dignifiedly as possible to face your roommate, “Gojo, are you drunk?”

“Drunk on you, yes.”

“What the-”

The man in front of you pipes up - shuffling uncomfortably on his feet. “Didn’t realize you were taken. My bad.” Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but under the scrutiny of Gojo Satoru. His big arms tightening around your middle - when did they even get there? “I’ll just uh- get out of your way, man.”

“Mhm, by the way,” Gojo puffs up his chest a bit, clearly towering over the other man - ha, take that Suguru. “Nice loss against Kyoto last week, real knee-jerker.” 

You smack Gojo’s chest at his rudeness, to which he only smiles wider. Watching the other man being swiftly handled away by another apologetic member of the basketball team.

“Gojo.”

And before you can react, Gojo’s dragging his pretty plump lips along where that light blue band of your bra was just peeking out, murmuring lowly, “Love it when you scold me like that.” Still refusing to let go of you despite the jealous looks thrown your way, “Let’s go home, my girl.”

Oh, the look on your face was priceless. 

He just wished he could fish out his phone and record, or maybe even tell Geto to take a picture - help him make it his wallpaper. And he did - over fifteen times, in fact, as the two of you helped drag him away from the thrumming party. Geto doesn’t listen, of course, and you neither do you - grumbling out a slew of profanities underneath your breath that makes the Uber driver look at the two of you weird.

And yet, Gojo’s biggest issue right now was trying to climb up these fucking stairs - not when they were trying to run away from him. 

“I swear to God, Gojo-” you huff, chest heaving under the weight of walking - well, more like dragging - your roommate up to your apartment. Knees wobbly - maybe at the intensity of his cologne, maybe at the way his biceps were flexing on your shoulders, probably at how fucking useless he was. Damn lightweight. “You better cover my rent for the next year for this.”

“Of course I will~” his hot breath tickles your ear, “Anything for m’girl. I’ll take care of us forever, don't you worry your pretty lil’ head.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the way your heart clenches - just a little bit. And if you’re slamming open Gojo’s bedroom door with a little more force than necessary, well, at least he’s a bit too impaired to nag at you about it.

He bounces lightly when you throw him on his plush mattress, giggling softly, “You should just join me, y’know. Have a little sleepover.”

“Drop dead.” you monotone, not even daring to look back at him while you shuffle through Gojo’s shirts. Throwing one over your shoulder at him, “N’ wear this, I just know you’ll complain about messing up your favorite button-up tomorrow morning.”

“Aww, you always take care of me so well, my girl~”

That familiar little nickname makes a shiver run down your spine, and it’s all you can do to concentrate on shuffling through Gojo’s drawers in search of his shorts. Absent-mindedly reaching for the lowest drawer and-

“Wait!” 

You jump, whirling around to catch Gojo sitting up ram-rod straight on the bed, eyes wide, hand reaching out as if to stop you. Swallowing thickly, you ask. “Gojo?”

And he jolts - like the very sound of your voice is sending electricity zapping through his veins. Abruptly scrambling off the bed before resting two hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you away from the drawer. “My shorts are uh- in my wardrobe, heh. Sorry about that.”

Furrowing your brows at the sudden twist, you squirm in his grasp to look at the drawer again. Failing - when Gojo keeps his grip steadfast, “Why’re you acting so-” 

“How about we order take out? My treat?”

And that night, tucking yourself into bed, you should be falling asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. You should be caring less about that strange little outburst of Gojo’s inside his room. You should have realized sooner - those light blue panties you’d worn tonight were gone. No longer in your hamper of old clothes.

And there was only one thing to do. 

---

Gojo thinks he shouldn’t - fuck he knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t even want to- well, that last bit was a lie.

Gojo Satoru first met you about a year ago, when you’d come knocking at his door asking about his ad for a roommate. It was more because he was bored inside this big apartment by himself than anything, really, but here you were all gorgeous and sweet, flashing him a smile that was burned into his mind for the rest of the week, at the very minimum. How could he ever say no?

And when you’d taken to walking around the apartment in those slutty lil’ shorts as a way to get back at his perpetual shirtless-ness? Thin panties just peeping out of the low hem? 

God, it was everything he could do to not run to the bathroom with each little glimpse. He was fucked, so very embarrassingly fucked. 

He just never thought it would get to this point - the first time had been an accident, honestly. When your laundry had gotten mixed up with his. Surely he didn’t remember having such a cute pair of pink panties in his closet? And surely it didn’t mean anything if he just-so-happened to stash them away, right?

At least, that’s what Gojo told himself the first time. And the second. And the third. And shit, it was a bit of an addiction now, and within a year of rooming with you, he’d accumulated a drawer stuffed guiltily with exactly what he shouldn’t be having. 

Gojo Satoru - insufferable campus sweetheart, the dreamy first place on everyone’s To-Fuck list - had been hoarding away your pretty panties. Like the pathetic virgin he pretends he isn’t. 

And so here he was - that dirty little drawer flung open, pants pulled down just enough, one hand flat on the flat surface to steady himself, while the other fisted desperately around his swollen cock - and one of your panties. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart.” he’s hissing, body shuddering in lewd little tremors at that torturous drag of fabric down his length. Squeezing at his thick base, moving fast - filthy up, up, up to thumb along the end of his sopping slit. “Feels s’good- too fucking good hngh-”

Such a pretty, wet gasp escapes him when your soaked, absolutely ruined underwear catches on his veins, tangling around his sensitive shaft. And he’s biting his lip, trying not to make a noise when he threads through the mess down below. 

“Oh fuck, yer killin’ me even when you’re ngh- not here.” he breathes unsteadily, weaving the sticky fabric around his long fingers. Tight - just how he knew you would. “S’like you know what you do t’me with these.”

They were your blue ones, this time - the ones from just last night. The ones you were wearing not even a full day ago. And Gojo has them wrapped daintily around his rock-hard cock, stark against the blushing red at his fat head. Already so drenched in precum as he fucks his fist. 

“Y’looked so p-pretty with these, sweetheart.” he groans over the wet fwip! fwip! fwip! Eyes rolling to the back of his head with each long, feverish stroke. “So pretty being mine. Ngh- so pretty in my- fuck.” 

Slam!

He’s hitting his palm facedown on the wood, knees buckling, eyes scrunching shut with pleasure. 

And that ruined, utterly depraved part of Gojo wonders whether next time he should steal your bras too? Have the full set of you proudly wearing his color like some secret little slut for him. 

He’s letting out a ragged little laugh, oh how cute you’d look all confused. Nipples hard through your flimsy excuse of a t-shirt while you looked around for them. While you asked him for help. 

Oh, just the thought of that has Gojo’s red, furious cock beading glossy drops of precum at his tip. Leaking a sinful, slippery sheen down his wrist. “Ah.” he lets out a guttural groan when his angry dick twitches in his hand, falling onto his elbow on the drawer. Not having the strength - or the sanity - to keep himself up anymore. “Look what you’ve-” Gojo’s eyes catch sight of a flash of red inside, sounding so wrecked. “Look what you’ve done.”

And those obscene red panties are snatched up by his free hand in a second, not even a second wasted before Gojo’s bringing them up to his face. 

Fuck. 

“Look what you’ve done. Look how ngh- filthy you’ve made me.” he whines, muffled. Hips fucking up in quick, uncontrollable little thrusts into his closed fist. Voice a pitch higher as he spits out embarrassing little accusations, “How pathetic. Gettin’ fuck- gettin’ off to this? Me of all hah- people like this? Can’t imagine how f-fucking mad you’d be.”  

Would you figure out it was him? Would you look in his drawer again? Teach him a lesson or two about being such a pathetic little pervert for his roommate. 

Maybe - just maybe - if Gojo plays his cards right, gets on his knees and begs for mercy, then you’d let him keep his little treasure. 

He throws his head back in a humorless little laugh when his aching hand slows down to languid, unforgivable tugs. He had time, anyway, your classes ended late today. Torturous - exactly the way he imagines you’d drive him mad. “Heh- wish this was you.”

You’d be so much meaner, pressing down on that little divot at his tip, flicking teasingly like you were trying to fuck out something delicious. You’d be running your nails down his achy veins, running your soft palms around his painful balls. 

You’d whisper, “This all you got, Toru?”

“Oh fuck!” Gojo moans, raspy little sounds of what sounds like your name filtering through the crevices of his fingers, your panties. “Fuck fuck fuck- gonna cum.” he whines. Heavy balls smacking back into his thighs with each thrust into your imaginary hand. How he wished you were here. He’s managing to wrench his eyes open to spy down at his sloppy cock - needing to see how your cute lil’ panties would look painted all white for him. How he wished you- “Gonna-”

Oh. Fuck. 

You. 

“Aw, why stop now, Gojo?”

You’re leaning against Gojo’s open bedroom door, flashing him such a sultry little smirk. Your voice almost a purr when you echo, “I said…” Before taking two long steps to where he stood frozen, “Why stop now?”

Gojo lets the damp fabric held up to his face drop in guilt - yet the other stays firmly wrapped around that hand cock of his still in hand. 

“S-sweetheart what are you- why-” And perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has terrorized this planet, he’s speechless. Worry-bitten lips sagging open stupidly, “I- this is-”

You cut him off, “So you’re the panty thief.” So close now that Gojo’s dick was throbbing at each heave of your chest, the way you were squeezing your thighs together. Eyes sliding down his body to rest at the mangled mess of your all-new panties around his painfully hard cock. “I knew it.”

“I can explain-”

“All those times pretending to help me?” you bat your lashes in a way that makes him gulp. Words dripping with the same tease he’d imagined in daydreams just like this. “When you were the pervert stealing my panties? Are you even ashamed?”

Gojo flushes an innocent pink, excuses tumbling out of those pretty lips immediately. But they sound like lies even to him.

“This- ngh-” he’s rolling his hips forward when you slide a smaller finger down his arm, between his pecs, almost the way down to those tufts of white. “Fuuuck- y-you’re not mad? Are ya the devil herself cuz you’re gonna- ngh- kill me this way.”

Humming, “Class was canceled, but of course - don’t hah- stop on my account, Gojo.”

“Toru.” he’s gasping out, a low moan wrenching out of him when he’s bowing his body into his fist again. Squeezing - almost warningly - at his hilt. “C-call me Toru. Please.”

And fuck he could’ve cum right then and there at that devilish little smile you give him, biting down on your lower lip - inches from his that it felt like you were biting down on his. Maybe you were, shit Gojo didn’t even know right now. 

“Toru.”

That’s all it takes for Gojo’s lips to be crashing onto yours. Biting back a little whimper at the messy clash of teeth, of spit, because one taste of your candied lips and he was already so addicted. 

“Mmpf-” Gojo gasps, chasing hotly after your lips. Eyes half-lidded to watch the snapping of those delicate strings of saliva, “You’re- you’re so-” And he’s way too impatient to get out his words, licking heatedly at the slit of your mouth. Over and over and over-  “As bad as me- ngh-”

“Are ya sure about that?” you grin, cunt clenching at your roommate’s pained grunt when you pull away. “Because look-”

And the both of you are stuck on the way Gojo’s moving again, hips fucking up in jagged, mindless little grinds. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Like he didn’t even feel the way his leaky tip was smearing along the front of your sinfully short skirt. 

“Can’t help it.” he whines, kissing down your neck. Hips urging forwards to slip up the thigh-length fabric, and when you don’t pull away, Gojo drags your skirt up, up, up with his pulsing length, “You don’t know what you do to me- fuck.”

His jaw falls slack, ogling at the sight of your pretty pussy on full display for him. Already so glossy with your sweet sweet juices, needy between your restless thighs. Bare. 

And this might be the first time he’s seen a cunt in real life but Gojo already knows - he already feels - that she’s gonna be the death of him. 

Sharp teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging. “What the fuck-” Gojo breathes - more to himself than anything. “What the fuck what the-” Bringing down his free hand to run the pads of his long fingers along your puffy folds, as if to confirm whether this was real. “-fuck! Going out like this? You’re even dirtier than me, huh?.” 

“What can I do?” Sliding your arms around his broad shoulders, palms running along the heated skin. Back arching to grind down on his hand, “Someone stole all my panties.”

Your words fall on deaf ears, because Gojo doesn’t hesitate for even a second before he’s bringing his dripping wet fingers up to his lips. Smoldering eyes looking right into yours when he pops them in his mouth. Sucking them dry. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.”

In a split second, you’re being splayed out on Gojo’s king-sized bed like such a slut. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw. And it happens so fast that you almost think you’re seeing things - but, no, the way you’re bouncing against the silky sheets was real. Your skirt bunching up at your waist was real. 

Gojo’s hazy gaze getting stuck right at the spot between your legs was real. 

“Shiiiit.” he murmurs, low and gravelly, like he’s moving through molasses. Stalking towards your trembling figure as if hypnotized, “Oh, she looks even prettier this way.”

You shuffle in embarrassment, pressing your thighs together, “Toru-”

But he doesn’t hear you, instantly scrambling onto the bed. “No- no no no no no-” Just wrenching your legs apart with his hands. “No, you don’t get to hide th-this from me, you don’ know how long I’ve waited for this. How much I’ve imagined-”

You’re gasping when he runs the tip of his index between your sopping wet slit, coating his fingers in your juices once more. Teasing. “N’ so wet. This all f’me? God, can’t even- ngh-”

“So eager.” you mumble, fingers threading through Gojo’s soft locks to pull him in so close. To drag him towards where you needed him the most. “Why don’t you jus’ shut up- N’ put that big mouth of yours into use somewhere else?”

His eyes widen, words a whisper, “C-can I?” He doesn’t wait for your response before flipping the two of you so easily. Having you toppling precariously on his lap now, “Can I really? Never done this before.”

Never?

It’s not before he lets out a shy huff, that you realize that you said that out loud. “So what? S’that bad?” Two large hands groping and kneading your ass to keep you in place, “Ya didn’t actually ngh- believe all those stories on campus, did ya?”

Squirming at the feeling of his massive girth rubbing up against your swollen folds, “D-doesn’t matter.” You grit out, “You can…”

And no sooner are you seeing Gojo’s megawatt smile, you’re already feeling it between your thighs. Being wrestled up like some glorified ragdoll, dragging your sloppy cunt all the way up to straddle Gojo’s pretty face. 

“So, this is what she ngh- looks like.” he whines, hot breath lapping at your quivering pussy. “Shit, she’s so wet I could almost-” You’re gasping when the man below you simply sticks his awaiting tongue out, admiring your pussy while letting your syrupy sweet slick drip! drip! drip! down his throat. “This all f’me?” 

The only thing you can give him right now is a needy little whine - which makes Gojo kiss the fat of your ass with a sharp smack! Biting his lip at the way it jiggles against his hand, “Tell me, where did my feisty girl go?”

That lewd little nickname has you scoffing in pathetic frustration, your grip searing on his scalp when you force his obscene mouth closer. “Y-you seriously need to-” Pulling, “-shut up, Toru.”

And oh, you’d played right into Gojo’s devilish hands. This was exactly what he wanted - to have his face stuffed between your limp legs, ready mouth meshing messily with the folds of your dripping cunt. “There she is.” he moans, the tip of his tongue slurping up the sloppy dredges of your slick. Carding between your pussy lips, “Oh- fuck there she is. Yeah use me like that- use me.”

He’s running his mouth a mile a minute and you wonder how. Because Gojo was lapping at your cunt so feverishly, everywhere - from your inner thighs, to your folds, to just around the circles of your sloppy entrance like he wanted to taste it all. And couldn’t decide where to go first. 

“T-Toru.” you let out a honey sweet mewl of his name when the tip of his nose is rubbing against your clit. “There. Right there-”

Eyes rolling to the back of his head when he easily locates your sensitive nub. Wrapping those ruby lips around your clit to give an experimental suck. 

Shit, he could almost pass out from how heavenly you look on top guiding him. Your entire body jolting with each roll of his hot tongue, giving him such a pretty view of your tits up your silky shirt. Just dragging your sloppy cunt all into his mouth when he toys with your pulsing clit. 

“Oh fuck!” your hips are darting away with each zap of electricity sent down your spine. 

Which, for Gojo - who’s only ever dared to dream up this moment on those lonely nights - isn’t enough. 

“Know m’new to this, sweetheart, but stop bein’ nice n’ fuckin-” He’s pulling on the crease of your waist, dragging you to rest your entire weight on his face - his mouth. “-sit.” You’re keening when Gojo forces you to collapse on his soft tongue, bullying past your puffy folds and into that sloppy ring of muscle. Jus’ barely dipping past the resistance, “I said use me so fuckin’ use me. Don’ care if I can’t breathe - if I fucking suffocate- ngh- m’gonna die if you don’t just sit.”

“Fine.” You cry out when the curve of his tongue is molding into your gummy walls, pushing recklessly past. Not even fucking easing you into it before he’s fucking you on his tongue. Calculated, mean little thrusts in search of all your sweet spots. “No half-assing then, m’kay?”

Though, you had the feeling that he would do anything but. 

“Good, now keep still.” he’s scolding, one hand starting up again in those slow, satisfied tugs on his length. “Please keep still.” And the other dancing between your legs to push a finger inside your snug cunt. “Mmm it’s a tight fit, can feel ya clenching around me. Ngh- always wondered how it’d feel- where that would be.”

Blinking away the haze in your eyes, you look down at where Gojo was already locked on you, “Th-that?”

“That.” he breathes into your cunt, voice reverent as he speeds up. “S’your pussy gonna tell me where your good spot is? Gonna help me ngh- learn?”

And to your embarrassment - and Gojo’s smug satisfaction, it only takes a few more hurried strokes of his tongue before he’s nudging against your g-spot. Both the texture of his tongue and his long, cold fingers curling to assault the poor bundle of nerves. 

Your body bows deeper as if on auto-pilot, “Oh- fuck! You fucking- hngh”

He’s snickering at the way you’re so responsive, cock hard - and only swelling girthier in his fist with each adorable moan falling from your lips. 

“Oh yeah? There? Ya like this?” he moans, “Ya like shutting up the ngh- p-pervert that steals your panties with your cunt?” 

Getting faster. More attuned to his feral need. 

Lips smacking in tempo with those obscene squelches, you can’t tear your eyes away from the way his cheeks hollow. Fingers still so rapid, moving to make out and toy so messily with you clit - untimed, sloppy but fuck did you love it. 

“Y-yes.” you’re shoving his mouth guiltlessly deeper. Letting his long tongue explore every crevice and inch of you. Sloppier. So, so filthy. “Love it- fuck- you’re such a fast fucking learner.”

“I know.”

There was that cocky Gojo Satoru you were used to, lips curling into a strawberry pink smile around your clit - all glossy and sweet with a sheen of your slick. Making such a mess of the lower half of his face, his chin, shit, all the way down to his jaw. 

“M’close-” you choke out at the sight, “M’so fuckin’ close- gonna- gonna cum on your tongue, Toru.”

“Look at you ruining me.” his words hit you hard on your sensitive cunt, sending shockwaves up your arched spine. Obscene little smacks of his lips following your barely-lucid mewls.“Absolutely defiling me. Are ya proud of nghhh fuck- yourself?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a strained, “Yes! Yes yes yes yes- God, m’so close, Toru/ Gonna cum m’gonna-”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming at first, just that you’re riding Gojo’s unfairly pretty face in harsh grinds - just the way he liked it. Jaw grinding against your cunt, chin hitting you with each slutty jerk of your hips, letting you use him all you want to ride through your high. 

And his fingers are digging into your hips, stopping you from pulling away even when you were snow. Even when you’re sobbing in oversensitivity. So painfully good. 

“Ngh- T-Toru–” you’re slurring out, his name thick on your tongue. “M’not gonna cum on your dick if you k-keep hah- acting this way.”

Only then does a pussydrunk Gojo Satoru raise his bleary eyes back up at you. Giving you a strained little grunt of acceptance, before parting ways with your pussy with a lingering, wet kiss on your clit. Barely-audible as he whispers, “Gonna see ya soon.”

You don’t have the time to think about his newfound addiction. Because in all of three seconds, he’s plopping you back down so prettily on his lap. Purposefully feeding your sopping wet slit his weeping red tip. 

“Please.” Gojo’s usually-arrogant grin has fallen into such a pretty pout with one graze of his length sandwiched between your folds. “I did good, right? Please ngh- so I th-think if I made you cum then I get to hah- fuck you how I want.”

And it’s not that you didn’t appreciate it before - but looking at his thick tip pushing up against your cunt right now has you recognizing that shit, Gojo is massive. 

Fat head blushing a pretty reddish, leaking so messily down, down, down those glistening veins at his side and to the creamy ring at his base - from when he’d cum, just from eating you out, you realize with a jolt. His girth so intimidatingly thick, long enough that you know you won’t be walking for a week straight, at least. All throbbing and angry with every second he isn’t buried to the hilt inside your cunt. 

Gojo Satoru is massive. 

“Like what ya see?” he echoes your thoughts, a soaked thumb coming down to pry apart your glossy folds. Grinning at the way your hole was already so needy and clenching around nothing. “Think m’the ngh- perfect size for this pretty pussy?”

Through it all, you find it in yourself to muse, “Only one way to find out. Gonna let me be your first, Toru?”

And then he’s pushing in, shallow, high little gasps bursting from his lips with each inch being bullied into your plush cunt. 

“O-oh fuck-” Gojo can’t stop himself from taking a good look at the way your pussy lips are bulging around him. Jaw dropping at the way your greedy entrance is only sucking him up more and more - trying to bite off more than you can chew with the way he was in so deep but barely even halfway in yet. “S’too good- oh my god- fuck I think m’gonna die. Is it s’pposed to feel th-this good?”

You’re running a hand gingerly through Gojo’s mussed-up hair, smoothing down the sides sticking up where you’d been pulling on it. “S’alright, Toru.” you soothe, letting him grind up into you. Trying to fit more - all of it. “You’ve got it- you’ve hah-”

You let out a pathetic little whine when his tip kisses your cervix, legs flexing around his toned waist. 

“Oh- ohhh fuck-” he’s barely able to string together coherent sentences now. Eyes falling till their half-lidded, body moving before his mind when he pulls yours stuck to his. “S-soo good n’ I haven’t even- oh!” His voice goes a few octaves higher when Gojo finally starts moving. “How can- it feel this good, hng-”

And shit for being inexperienced, he was fucking up into you so mean. Just in short little thrusts up like he was trying to fuck you even deeper - trying to squeeze inside more of himself impossibly. 

“Some- ah- some more, Toru-” 

He listens, and the stretch - fuck. Gojo wasn’t even trying yet, but his girth was already massaging your gummy walls so dizzyingly good. 

“Y-you’re so- ngh-” you graze your lips across his in what can barely be called a kiss. Too messy. Too depraved. “-so deep.” Sliding a hand about midway down your stomach to press down, “Can feel you all the way in here.”

Your words are sticking to Gojo like a second skin, driving him so fucking mad. Hips smacking up into you deep until his heavy balls were slapping your ass, sculpted pelvis crashing into yours.

“Stop talking.“ he spits, “Stop talking stop talking stop- talking.” Each word is punctuated by a desperate, messy stroke. Pushing you further and further up Gojo’s body from the obscene impact. “Stop hah- talking or m’gonna cum.”

He wasn’t lying - you could already feel the twitch of Gojo’ length rubbing up against your hidden sweet spots. The furious throbbing of his veins stretching out your elastic walls. 

And yet you’re still wailing stubbornly, “B-but Toru it feels so good.” Partially truth, partially because when the fuck do you get to see him so utterly wrecked like this. Sanity dancing away from him with each syrupy moan leaving your mouth, “Your cock is too good- ngh- feels-”

“Shut up.”

Gojo can only take that much of your nonsense before he’s stuffing your mean mouth full with a flimsy piece of fabric from somewhere on the bed- no. A strangely familiar pair of panties. 

“Heh, s’much ohhh fuck- better.” he beams with pride when you’re gagging and tearing up so adorably around the light blue fabric. Ramming his cock up harder - stronger, as if daring you to make a little comment about it. “Should’ve ah fuck- known you wouldn’t make it easy f’me.”

As if to prove his point, he gives your ravaged clit a little smack! before teasing and rolling his thumb exactly the way you’d taught him to with his tongue.

And he’s scrambling to sit up, carrying your boneless body with him. 

The new angle has Gojo seeing stars, penetrating your gummy walls deeper, hitting that familiar g-spot he’s mapped out by now. “Here?” he manages to cackle, a big arm wrapping around your waist. “Right here? S’my cock hitting th-that ngh- good spot? Yer pussy is fuuuck so much easier to u-understand than I ah- thought.”

Reeling back to bounce you on his thick cock. Crashing into it again. And again and again and-

Since you can’t snap back - or even beg for more - you only let out muffled little moans through the gag in your mouth. Thighs burning as you push back in pathetic little thrusts to somehow meet Gojo’s mindless cadence.

“Oh yeah?” he drags, leaning back to help you ride him properly. “Yeah yeah do i-it hah- like that. Do it juuuust like that.” A harsh thumb rolls into your clit, making you stutter and grind yourself down messily. “Fuck- Yeah ruin me- ngh- just like that.”

His words were jagged - uneven. Spitting out of his plump lips like he didn’t even know they were every time Gojo’s fat, leaky tip was gliding across your cervix, your g-spot. Leaving possessive little bruises to claim you from the inside out. 

“C-close.” you slur out, not even sure if he could hear over the dull slap of his balls on your ass, and the greedy squelches of your cunt. “More, Toru.”

Yet your sinful, sickly sweet noises have him freezing - if only for a split-second. Pussydrunk eyes going wide, jaw falling slack in such awe. 

But before you can fully appreciate this sight, he’s starting back his depraved thrusts again. Bouncing you harder - faster. Just dragging you along every ridge and bump of his swollen cock. Fingers just a needy blur toying with your poor clit. 

“M-more?” he whines into the crook of your neck, voice breaking at the end. “More. More?” He speaks up, like a mantra. Each word sending you spiraling down Gojo’s merciless cock, Panting, “Ever since you fuck- started rooming w’me, wanted this- wanted you to hah- be my first.” Holding you in such a vice-like grip as he splits you apart on his aching cock. Harder. “You’ve ruined me-” he spits against your lips, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don’ know how many times I’ve cum to your pretty panties. Ruined me- ruined me- fuck m’so close- ruined me.” Violent, even. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. 

And it’s only taking a few more unsteady jabs into your g-spot before a wave of euphoria is crashing over you. “Hngh-” you spasm in Gojo’s arms, his eyes going wide in wonder when your cunt squeezes him so fucking tight- only to-

“F-fuck!” he whines, connecting your lips to his. Kissing you even with your panties still stuffed into your mouth. And Gojo’s cumming and cumming so hard he doesn’t even think he’s breathing. Intertwining his tongue with yours to muffle his overstimulated moans, wrapping around your sweet slick-soaked panties in the middle. The contrast of his soft tongue with the lazy fabric of your panties only making you milk his poor cock harder. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck- fuck- Take it. Take it, my girl.”

You moan incoherently, going insane at the way he was filling you up with long, thick ropes of cum. Fucking deeper and deeper up into you to paint your plushy walls from the inside. 

“S’all I’ve- ngh wanted.” he murmurs throatily, such a fucking mess now. Face flushed, eyes glassy with tears, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth with the way he was sucking lewdly on your tongue. “You’re all I-I’ve ever wanted.”

Shit, he hasn’t cum this hard in his life.

Finally having had enough of shutting up your smart mouth, Gojo slows down to deep little grinds - still moving. Still trying to hold back his moans at that creamy ring around his hilt, at the globs of seed trickling out of your poor overfilled pussy. 

“Hah- Toru-” you whine when he pries away the fabric in your mouth. Shuddering with the swipe of his finger along your clit, “C-could almost ngh- forgive you…”

“The blue one.”

“What?” you’re staring at him in confusion, and Gojo’s fucked-out grin only spreads wider. 

“That was for the b-blue one.” you gasp when his balls suddenly squeeze so painfully underneath you. Cock jerking in interest, “Y’gonna have me make up for that whole drawer full of panties, sweetheart?”

A/N. VIRGIN GOJO BRAIN ROT GOES BRRRRRRRR

Plagiarism not authorized.

[toji-bunny-girl]

bartender toji fucking the living daylights out of us after a nasty breakup ? also have a nice day

ON THE H★USE !!

#𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆 ⟢ bartender!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader #𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ⟢ riding the hot bartender after a break up is the least expected thing you’ll ever think of #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟢ alcohol, pet names, foreplay, fingering, teasing, grinding, pre-cum, no protection, creampie, car sex, nipple play, squirting, size difference, big dick toji papa, alpha toji with xxxxxxxxl dick, multiple orgasm, one-sided drunk sex (?), power play, I’m so lazy to do tags, who even reads content warnings tbh #𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ⟢ 4k #𝑨/𝑵 ⟢ don’t let this flop guys I spent way too much time on this when I should be studying for my exam 😭

“Plus, he literally had to beg me to act like I was cummin’ when he stuck his sorry excuse of a dick in me!” your eyelids hung heavily over your eyes as you exclaimed, brows shooting down in a frown. “Get a load of that guy, am I right?”

“He doesn’t pay for your stuff, and he can’t fuck good?!” Toji teasingly mirrored your tone as he manoeuvre behind the bar, uniform taut from the way he natchly flexed his arms; the bottles clinking as he worked deftly to craft out the beverage you ordered. “What a man.”

It has been 2 hours since you’ve been rambling on about your ex-boyfriend, and the ravenette felt like he’d known this stranger for years—all of his secrets and traits aired into his ears. Albeit, it was getting a bit boring, with the same repeated stories tumbling out of your voluble mouth. But still, he enjoyed chuckling at your adorable insobriety, fuelled by drunken mania. 

“Here you go, princess,” a small tug lifted the ends of his scarred lips when your eyes patently glimmered at the newly served alcohol. “It’s the last I can give you, we’re closing…” Toji’s eyes momentarily flickered to his watch, “in 7 minutes.”

“Oh, okay!” you deliriously yawped, downing the beverage into your liqueur-brimmed system before handing him your card, which you aimlessly threw at him, not even lucid of your motions. “Just swipe it.”

Toji simply brushed it off, taking it towards the other side of the counter. He's used to unintentional antics like yours, as long as the tab was paid off he has no problem with them. 

15,900 yen. 

The digits flashed past his eyes like stars, igniting a luminous glint in his dark emerald orbs. Hell, was it a sum to casually splurge on at some mid-high bar? He’s got a pretty girl with probably an equally pretty amount of personality in her wallet, sprawled on the bar top wailing about her broken heart. 

Oh, how he would love to play saviour. 

“Here, princess. Time to go home,” he tapped your card onto the counter after the successful transaction. His gruff voice was low as you drifted further from your haywired consciousness and towards a delicious drowse. You didn’t move when he neared your face, attempting to marshal up your scattered coherence by calling into your ear. 

Toji sighed as he leaned back onto his feet, and crossed his bulky arms, pondering the ways to get you out of the otherwise empty bar. 

It was 12:58 am and the other inebriated customers had gone out by themselves or with their friends dragging them along. Except for you, softly snoring on the sticky counter. 

His coworker shrugged at him when the ravennette glanced at the shorter male for help. “Just get her out of here. I’ll clean up the rest, and you owe me this one,” always so kind—how Toji wished he could smooch that man right then. 

“Thanks, man,” Toji’s eyes curved in moon crescents, before settling his sight onto your dozed frame. His finger pressed against your temple, and your head lolled to the side in suit of a light push; a trail of drool slipping past your plump lips. You were completely and utterly out of it, huh?

Grasping onto your arm, the male lightly shook you awake, the warmth from his calloused palm stimulating your nerves vivified. “Hey, Mr. Bartender…” you had an uneven smile on your crooked lips, sleepiness bubbling into the air with every laggard blink as you breathily chuckled. “Are you gonna bring me home?”

“I don’t know about that, princess,” his tone was syrupy sweet and it licked the ends of your lips upwards into a velvety grin. “But we gotta go now. Come on,” Toji’s hands came to yours, gently pulling you off of the bar stool. You followed after his guide, slipping your card into your pocket before frisking behind him like a lamb to the door. 

The burly male turned to his wrist after the door swung close in the wake of your exit, checking his watch; it read 1:04 am. The train station is closed and it’s going to kill his conscience if he leaves you by the streets like he always does with intoxicated male customers. He has no idea where you stay anyway—best to call a friend of yours to take you home. 

“(Y/N)?”

A grating, vexatious voice called. The two of you swivelled your gaze to the source to find your cheating, insipid creature of an ex with an arm thrown over some chick’s shoulders, chortling at the unstable mess you were. Your eyes were puffy and tumid from the hours of crying slash ranting session, and you were anything but lucid from the way you looked. 

How fucking lucky.

“What you got going on here? Getting kicked out of a bar?” your ex taunted, nearing his face to yours as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Y-You…as—”

“Have the lady some of her space, buddy,” Toji’s authoritative voice prevailed over yours as he pushed the male away, rendering him to helplessly stumble backward into a fall. The woman in his arm hid her giggle with a gasp before helping his fuming ass up, his face beet red from his ignominious tumble. 

“Who are you?” he barked, eyelids flying open to show the hidden whites and teeth bared in belligerence. 

“A man who can make her cum, without begging her to fake it,” the woman burst into a half-concealed snicker when the ravennette broke the air with his unanticipated words. Your face grew to be saturated with ardent red, from both the intoxicant that coursed through your veins and the sentence you thought you had heard.

“I call it bullshit,” your ex spat with his upper lip pulled up in disrelish. There’s a flash of humiliation in his glare—he knew Toji seemed better than him and it killed him to know you’ve got suitors who are way out of his league. 

“It’s true,” you tapped Toji’s metallically stiff chest with a twisted, satisfied smirk on your rat-arsed face. “He toootally didn’t just stick his dick in me and call it a day, y’know?”

“Fucking whore.”

“What d’ya say?!” you screeched, ready to pounce on the asshole. “I sent you to the ER once, and I’ll do it again!”

“Alright, that’s enough, princess,” Toji tenaciously held onto your arm, and you’re stuck by him even without him using much strength. “We don’t want you dirtying your hands, do we?” 

A nasty shove met the male’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. It was merely a fraction of Toji’s force, and it already had the male choking to breathe on the ground. 

“Speak to her like that again, and it’s not going to be just a push,” you could hear the rise of a dour, serrated threat in his tone, and it begot the asshole to cower back in trepidation. 

Pussy, Toji grimace. Albeit he was no saint himself but he absolutely despises the ilk of guys your ex filtered into—boisterous and a bully to women, yet nothing but a trifling mutt in front of men.

A tug of his arm, and your limbs wrapped around his wretched him out of his state of visceral contempt. “Take me home!” you ineptly exclaimed, a gruntled grin on your adorable, roguish face. 

Briefly riveting his baleful gaze onto the splayed male on the bitumen, Toji steered you uphill towards the parking lot as you clumsily tottered aside him. 

The encounter with the small-dick fucker sure rendered him more understanding of your evening of outburst. Plus, for you to be cheated on that piece of work was truly the icing on the cake. “Poor you, huh?”

“Forget ‘bout him! You were so cool I almost cummed right there and then,” you teasingly giggled as you peered at him through your heavy eyelids. 

Fuck—it’s no good for you to be saying that with that look on your face. 

His eyes rest ahead the road as you soon come to near the bright red C8 Corvette the woman he’s estranged with had previously gifted him, the car standing out amongst the parked vehicles like a sore thumb. 

Your eyes scintillated in awe when the car luridly flashed and beeped in the night, “That’s yours?!” you cried aloud, frisking all the way to the car, before stumbling over thin air and nearly jolting forward into a fall. Luckily, Toji was quick enough to catch you by your arm, saving your knee a painful event of bloody excoriation. “Oopsie daisie.”

Cute, Toji chortled. 

Jumping into the vehicle, the potent roar of the engine cut through the midnight air after you’ve settled neatly in the passenger seat, the only thing missing was the safety belt that was supposed to secure your form. Reaching to your side, Toji’s hand briefly brushed over your exposed thigh, the hem of your short dress riding up to merely cover your panty. 

A soft, almost inaudible noise fled your lips, and his eyes laid on your face, the faint, intimate gold beam from the street lamp illuminating your glowing features. Your orbs were luminous through the dark, and it roused an innate lasciviousness that lay dormant in his core. 

The liquor that flowed through your blood vessels had not quelled through the lapse of time, but it did not take away your clarity to feel the tension that electrified the air molecules into sweltering magnetism. And gosh do you want to snatch the constriction in the atmosphere and tear it through your canines. 

“Touch me,” you whispered, so soft and vulnerable Toji could seemingly snap you in half with just a touch. 

“You’re drunk, princess,” he reminded, yet he remained unshifted over your smaller frame, his hand merely a molecule from your tempting flesh that sang for his warmth. 

“No,” you were firm. Something in you purled, bubbling a heavy, demanding need to have him devour you. “I want you,” your breath was hot, scorchingly so; airy and desperate. 

“You want me?” his hand fell to your wrist, grasping your soft skin under his heavy hold, and guiding you over to his seat, straddling his lap. His gaze cut through your eyes, daubing pressure against your jumbled nerves, his intensity threatened to slice through the silky jugular of your vulnerability. And you nearly moaned under his eyes.

You gingerly nodded at him, and you thought the knit between your brows was enough to speak for your neediness. 

His grip on your wrist tightened a fraction before you missed the heat radiating from his palm. “Careful, princess. You might regret this,” he had paved a way out, it’s a leave it or fuck it situation served beneath your fingertip—and all the atoms in your body leaped into the growling blaze in the abyss residing in his essence. 

“Please,” your voice was barely a note above a mumble, yet the weight of your single word mitigated any marshalled resistance in him. 

His hands slid up your thighs, inching under your dress, sending tingles to your throbbing core. The intensity that radiated from him ceased to waver as he leaned against your neck, brushing against your skin as you gulped. Dark, ashen clouds drew above the emerald forest of his before he spoke, almost threateningly against your throat, “I want you to remember every single detail of this in the morning.”

With a breathless nod, you had swung the floodgates of your amenability open to his guttural thirst. The heavy, rapacious waves of your desires crash into superposition. You were the fuel and he was the fire, together the air detonated into space. 

His wet lips met yours in a whim, sucking onto your flesh until it stung, greedily tasting every crook and cranny of your wet cavern with the bumps of his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your hands flew to clutch onto his head, deepening the kiss to reach his insides while his rough fingers sank into the plump flesh of your ass. 

Your lips burned with his saliva, and his tongue fluttered with yours. The atmosphere felt all-consuming, gripping onto your throat and restricting the air from flushing down your windpipe. Yet, your core pulsed between your thighs, an excited blaze slowly roaring into something bigger than you could handle. 

Your chest rose and fell in a quick tempo when you snatched your lips away from his, grasping as much air as you could within a second before you dove right into him. Albeit your sight was hazy, you caught sight of the luminous flush that panned over his cheeks. 

Pretty, pretty. You chanted in your head as your hands slid down to his clothes, clumsily popping the buttons off of the garment that kept the warmth of his skin away from your touch. You want him, you want him. 

Your fingers nearly melted when they met his hot, sinewy chest, and Toji’s teeth sank a little too hard into your bottom lip when you teased his nipples under your touch, innervating them hard with every flick. The salient bulge in his pants rolled against your folds, merely separated by an annoying piece of your underwear, and your moans jumbled into each other’s mouths

“Fuck, princess. You’re driving me crazy,” Toji breathily groaned when your sloppy lips sundered apart, a hot string of mixed saliva connecting your swollen, red lips together. His large hands lifted your ass up into the air as he palmed them, the warmth from him sending a snuggly sensation through your body. “It’s no fun when only you get to tease.”

Your eyes playfully gleamed, before the light shot out of the crater of your orbs—his finger pressed against your sodden panty, damp with arousal. The tingles shyly reached through your belly as he rubbed your hardening bud, and your body shuddered against his. 

“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured against your jaw, leaving trails of bruised kisses down your jugular. His hand left your heat just as the high came close to your clutch, leaving you with nothing but the lingering cold touches of his. 

With a defeated sigh, you ground your knee against his growing hardness, your finger shyly rubbing against the clothed tip of the constrained mount, the spot slowly growing dark from amativeness. 

Toji sunk deeper into the headrest as you touched him, his exposed chest ceaselessly rising and falling. His breath hitched in his throat when you twirled his sensitive nipple between your fingers; your heated exhales warming the side of his neck as his grip almost painfully firmed onto the fat of your ass. 

You didn’t allow his peaking orgasm to come through, forcing yourself off of his sore, throbbing erection, and your teeth bared into a dirty smile. “I am playing fair.”

“You want to test me, princess?” he chuckled, the bassy timbre of his scratching the knot of an itch inside your ears. A gasp leaped out of your throat as your body jolted forward, his seat clicked backward to its maximum taut, “I’ll make you cry for more.”

You found your back nestled in his stead, your thighs spread open with his calloused hand slipping down your supple flesh. His fingers tapped nearer and nearer to your heat, before slipping off your soiled panty. 

“So fuckin’ wet,” Toji sucked an inhale through his teeth as he leered at your dripping sex—thick, rough thumb fluttering friction on your clit once again. Your eyelids flitted shut as you softly moaned against the air, the smell of your arousal filled the confinement of the car; the scent nearly making him growl when it panged hard against his nostrils. 

You watched as Toji slipped a thick finger into your velvety folds, feeling it trodding past your walls. Your heat snugly enveloped him as he filled your inside with another digit, his two fingers pressing, and running themselves over your slick cunny. “Gotta stretch you good for me, princess.” 

Your back inched into the seat with a contented sigh, enjoying the build-up of ticklish pressure stacking up your tummy. Toji was ridiculously dexterous with his fingers—deftly stroking your cunt, and quick to find the spot in you that innervated your pure senses with a ting. 

“S-Shit—” your body was subservient to his touches; your spine curved into an arch, your toes curled tight and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. “M’feel so good. Toji—fuck,” it was as if his fingers were gilded in Eros’ heavenly blessing, the godly grace spilling into your pleasure. Tears began prickling at the sides of your eyes from how hard you were squeezing them, your flailing legs kicking against the dashboard of his car. 

“So pretty when you cry,” Toji groaned under his breath, his damp restraints painfully throbbing from the way your squelching walls tightened around his fingers—oh, how he fucking wish it was his cock in you right there and then. 

His touches were singing your walls into melting squirts of drool, pearls of arousal weeping between your thighs in the wake of his careful strokes. Never were you touched in such a way, and you felt like balling from how good it felt. “M’ close! M’gonna cum! Oh my gosh—!”

“Come on. Cum for me, princess,” you could hear his smirk in his voice as pleasure kissed your senses, fluttering through your electrified nerves and sending a jolt of tingles all over your body. Your mouth was lax open into an ‘o’, nails marking his skin as they sank deeper into his arm, and your walls tightly spasmed with a wave of rough euphoria cracking your bones weak. You fucking came from his mere fingers. 

Your eyes bat open with your lips sundered from your pants, your face ardently glowing from your subduing high. “Fuck…” your wet thighs quivered from the sheer force of your orgasm, and you blinked in disbelief. 

Over 2 decades of living and it was the first time cumming from a real man, not your fingers nor toys. But the brawny, sex-dripped male slipping your dress off of your spent body. 

You almost fell in love. 

Pushing him down the driver’s seat, you crawled over Toji’s firm thighs, running your finger from his chest to his muscle-packed abdomen, then down to the wristband. You were flickering to take charge, and he sank down to your guidance, rough palms resting on your hips. 

Your dress was off, divulging the bare curves of your body, sweat-glazed skin iridescent under the moonbeam and your sex-flushed features were begging for him. You look so, fucking, perfect that he had to bite down the need to ruin you on the spot. 

His hips impatiently thrust upwards into your sticky cunt, grinding his pack against you, urgency in his essence demanding your heat. “Don’t keep me waiting now,” he purred, with a silent warning tagging behind his words. 

Your fingers tugged the waistband of his pants along with his briefs, a drive in you matching his pacing hastiness. His shaft sprang out of its painful confinement, and your eyes nearly popped out from the sheer look of his cock. 

He was oozing with sticky pre-cum from his angry, red tip, throbbing veins ran from the base of his length to the curved head—the size of him bigger than any you’ve seen. The smell of his masculine essence hit your senses and a new pool of arousal began drawing in your tummy, your pussy walls squeezing in empty neediness.

“There’s no backing out now, princess,” Toji’s fingers firmly gripped onto your ass, lifting you over his cock, hovering.

“Who said I’m backing out?” you gulped, before lowering yourself down, his fat cockhead kissing your pussy lips before your hips greedily sank down his length, oblivious to the crackle of tingles it would send to your nerves.

“Careful there,” he teased with a chuckle as you let out an instinctual gasp from the way his girth stretched past your velvety walls, the slick sound of your arousal-dripped cunt, and his heavy shaft bubbled into the air, and scorched your cheeks red.

“M-My gosh…” you cried as your hazy gaze fell to the bulge jutting from the inside of your tummy, your walls taut with his heavy cock buried inside you. “I’m s’full, Toji.”

“Mhm,” he cooed, brushing his hands over the sides of your smooth thighs. “But you gotta start moving, baby.”

Gingerly, you lift your hips up before slowly inching them down his length. Your walls clenched as your sex rubbed friction, and you could feel every pulsing vein of his just as he could feel your fluttering warmth.

“Feel good, princess?” Toji asked breathily, your head faintly nodded, but there was a hint of a dubious glint in your fallen gaze, your knees lifting and sinking your weight.

“I need your help…” your voice cracked in disappointment as you paused, tears of frustration edging by your eyes. You couldn’t seem to grasp a steady pace no matter how long you painfully rode.

“What d’ya say?”

Your orbs looked as though they were melting off of your sweat-glazed skin, blinks of fervourish plea clawing from your drunken gaze into his. “Please, Toji,” your voice hitched, and you’re humping his pelvis. “Please…I want to feel good.”

Aww. How fucking adorable.

You yelped when you felt yourself being raised and slammed down his cock, your folds burning with every stretch of your walls. And it feels so good. “Y-Yes…” your eyes closed shut, fingers scrambling to grip his locks. “T-Toji—mhaa!”

“You’re so fuckin’ cute screaming my name,” the curve of his tip perfectly kissed your g-spot with each piston of his hips, and every time the twitching head of his meat met your gummy part, it sent a flash of electricity up your spine.

“S-Sho good—” you slurred through your words, weighed head lolling idly to every thrust of his fat cock.

“No one can get you dripping off their cock like this, huh?”

“Mmh—yes!” the space between your brows was crumpled into a tensed frown, your hips bouncing up and down his thick girth with his hands guiding your pace. “I love it! I love your cock!”

Toji let out a low groan when you cried, bucking himself deeper into your sloppy mess of a cunt and kissing the surface of your cervix. “Fuck—I love an honest girl.”

Your muscles nearly melted off of your bones as he continued to fucked himself deeper than you’ve ever felt, reaching the parts you didn’t know could be touched and your features dropped with his touches on your deep intimacy. A fierce sear of heat burned through your tingling womb, and it threatened to consume your body whole. “M’ cummin’! Toji—!”

“I know, I know, let it out f’me. Come on,” he grunted, keeping his grip firm on your arms as he fucked himself hard and deep into you. He could feel your squelching cunny clench, so tight as for the purpose of milking him on the spot. “Keep bouncin’ on my cock, yeah?”

“Nngh—No more!” you squealed. “N-No—” his thumb drew between your shaking thighs and greedily swiped over your blushing clit. Your fingernails sank into your palms as you gripped for dear sanity, his cock continuously violating your fluttering spots until they grew sore.

“I can make you feel better, princess,” he mumbled tinglingly against your neck, sinking his teeth down your flesh to hold back a shaky moan. His pleasure was inching to fly to release, and your tight clutch onto his shaft was nothing but a catalytic lure.

“S’ hurts—please!” your babbles were almost indecipherable as he rammed into your sore cunt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh holding onto you tenaciously; pushing you right to the edge of oblivion as he clung onto his nearing release.

“Cum f’me again, baby?”

“M’can’t! Still sensitive—!” you cried before another orgasm shot through your core. You felt as if you were sent up into the ether, stars teeming through your body as the waves of pleasure sent you on a vertigo ride. Your gasps dragged through your lips, your eyelids hung heavily over your bleary eyes, with tears slipping down your hot cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—M’close too, baby,” Toji swore through his bared teeth, his cock painfully twitching as thick semen surged through his tip—his hips rolled as your cunt squeezed his remaining sanity, popping them like fireworks before they burst into nothingness.

Your essence squirted out of your tensed cunny, shooting with his mixed cum that dripped down his belly. Your breaths shaky and hot with heightened senses, your sticky sex pulsing in overstimulation.

Exhausted, you fell prostrated on top of his hard muscle-built body, head undulating with the ups and downs of his heaving chest. And slowly, your cognisance drifted back into your mind, the aftermath of everything—the alcohol and the sex, pummelled into you like a heavy truck. Unforgivingly so.

“Toji…I really feel like pukin—”

© toji-bunny-girl ― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work

[a-pastel-edgelord]

Rintaro Suna believes there are absolutes in life. For example, he'll never score higher than a 75 in social studies, or that chuupets taste best on a hot day... Oh, or that you are totally and completely unavailable.

You call Kita, Shin. You always have ever since he met you. He calls you by your first name as well. He always has ever since Suna knew of your existence.

It's impossible to miss—Kita lives in such a methodical way. Like clockwork you show up in the gym just as practice ends. You help clean up. You make small talk with the team. You wait until Kita is done. Then you walk home together.

Suna didn't think much of you at first, just another person in his orbit. But then, during practice on a particularly hot day you showed up with popsicles and watermelon for the team. Kita scolded you for it, talking about how you spoil them. You shrugged it off, saying you have the right. The rest of the guys rushed to get their treats, Suna gave it a second, too sluggish in the heat. Something cold pressed against his temple. It was you, poking him with a pack of chuupets. You'd gone out of your way to refrigerate them. "You like these right? I saw them on sale so I got you some."

That day, something in his brain stuttered. But not that it mattered because you were taken by the captain of the volleyball team. Even if Kita is a bit of a weird hardass robot kind of guy, Suna likes him. Respects him too much to even entertain the notion of flirting with you.

"Maaaan!" Atsumu whines in the locker room. "I wanna show off my service ace." He's been complaining about you not coming to watch a practice.

Akagi rolls him eyes. "Some people actually study, y'know. Apparently Kita-san is eyein' some fancy university in Tokyo."

"Yeah, Tsumu." Osamu drawls. "Kita-senpai doesn't have volleyball brain like you. So studyin' ain't a lost cause."

Suna pauses halfway through putting on his jacket. "Kita-senpai?" The words are foreign in his tongue.

"Huh?" Gin looks at him. "Yeah. You know. Kita-senpai. They're cousins. We call 'em Kita-senpai so we don't get confused with the captain."

Suna appreciates another absolute as he throws on his shoes and sprints down the stairs to where he knows you're waiting for your cousin. The fact that he is an absolute idiot.

[retiredteabag]

winter weight

synopsis: toji has gained some weight this winter - it seems you don’t mind

this is part two -> read about summer!toji here

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It's said that "happy weight" is a very real thing in healthy relationships. Toji had always prided himself on being a big man, he worked out frequently and ate like a beast. But his physique has mostly remained the same impressive form. This winter, however, seemed to have changed that for the very first time.

Toji had noticed these past few days that he'd seemed to have put on a couple of pounds. His shirts were tighter now than they used to be, some of his sleeves seemed to almost cut off circulation, and with a quick feel of his stomach, it was clear that his body was... softening up.

He was not "insecure" per say, just- not in love with his newly added weight. He found himself pulling at the flesh of his stomach, not accustomed to the added fat and he barely walked around the house shirtless as of late.

You'd comment on this newfound modesty of his and he'd play it off as if he had been cold, but you know that your man couldn’t get cold, even in this winter weather.

One afternoon as you both lounged on the couch, you saw him pulling at the front of his T-shirt, flowing it out and away from his body. He didn't seem to be doing it intentionally, eyes focused on the television, but you certainly noticed.

That night he even went to bed with a shirt on which might just have been the very first time he's ever done that in his life.

You went to bed with this notion on your mind. The thing was... the man was totally irresistible to you, so you couldn't quite understand if he was suddenly worrying about his figure.

Toji always awoke before you did in the mornings. When you heard him in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, you stumbled out of bed and came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his form.

Toji is a big guy, he always has been. Only now you notice, when holding the man’s torso, your two arms barely reach around to the mans abs now…

You hum as you feel him up, and he doesn't push you away. Once upon a time you would have tried to tickle his sides, but having been around Toji for awhile now, you know he's not the ticklish type. Even so, your cold hands dance under his shirt and grope at him.

"Too early, ya know." You murmur into his broad back. "Won'tcha come back to bed."

"Get yer paws off me" he jitters, "you're freezing." He turns around to look at you now, facing downwards to meet your tired pout.

"Come warm up with me then." You finish speaking. Smooshing your cheeks into his back muscles and opening your mouth to press up against him and breathe a lung full of hot air through his shirt. While the warmth meets his spine you roll your hands back to his pudgy tummy, his happy trail…

"Alright, alright." He grabs the back of your neck and walks you back to bed. When you're just about within throwing distance, he grabs you by the sides of your chest and tosses you onto the mattress.

In the following moments you curl yourself upon him, your body splayed above his. Giggling, you can't help your wandering hands. He's so warm, you know?

He grabs at your wrist though, "Enough, don't fondle me." His eyes are teasing but you wonder if he's starting to feel unhappy with his body.

"Can't help it, you’re so handsome, ya' know?"

You can feel his muscles tense below you at the confession. He runs a hand through his hair and avoids your eyes. "Thats a bad argument."

You just hum and squish your arms under his back, molding your body to his.

Suddenly he speaks up, "I wouldn't work out as much if I knew you still liked me all fluffy". You hear an annoyed tint in his tone and move up to look at him.

"I like you in all your forms, Toji." And you mean it.

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes at your words and pulls your hands away.

"Don't move me, you're so hot." You tug your wrists in his grasp.

His eyebrows raise

He holds your gaze for a long while, and lifting a brow he slowly speaks, "Get another blanket then."

You stare at him, smiling. "No." You smoosh your face to his chest, "I wanna crawl under your skin... and eat your flesh..."

Toji knew what was coming, he gently pressed on your forehead before you could latch your jaw around his bicep.

"Don't. Even. Think about it." He holds in a giant grin.

"You're too chewable. C'mon..... comeoneeeee." You smirk at him, his palm still flush to your skull.

There's a pause, and just as you think he's gonna give in, he maintains pressure, running his hands down your neck, onto your waist and traps your body under his by rolling on top of you. There are wails of descent from your crushed form beneath him, but he holds you there, wrists in his grasp.

"Lemme go Toji." You tug at your wrists.

"Thought you wanted me heating you up." He huffs into your neck.

"Yeah, but I deserve the privilege of caressing a little more." You flex your hands again.

"You gonna behave?" his fingers run over your palms.

"Not a chance."

He grins, releasing you. Quick as lightning, your hands are up and under his shirt, running over his back. He's groaning into the mattress, something about icy hands, but he's sporting a big grin, leaning down to take a tiny bite of your shoulder.

[starkwlkr]

happy life, happy wife | hugh jackman

an: “you attract what you fear” GUYS IM SO SCARED OF A 55 YEAR OLD AUSTRALIAN 😭 definitely thinking about making marvel actress!reader x hugh an actual series… i have ideas

marvel actress!reader

Deadpool & Wolverine Press tour - Hot Ones

Hugh felt like he was going to die. Each wing was getting hotter and hotter, but immediately when he heard his wife’s name he forgot all about the spice.

“Hugh, your wife is part of the Avengers, how does it feel having your wife be part of such a huge franchise? Have you two talked about a potential team up with the X-men and the Avengers?” Sean asked.

“My wife . . . Oh god, I think I’m crying-”

“I can’t tell if you’re legitimately dying or completely in love with your wife.” Ryan told Hugh.

“Wait . . I am completely in love with my wife and I would legitimately die for her.” Hugh gasped as he rearranged Ryan’s words.

“Is that in the contract she made you sign when you married her? ‘I vow to die for you’. My contract said I had to give all my money to my kids and wife.” Ryan said.

“No, she’s amazing, um, if I start talking about her I think I might go on for hours,” he laughed. “Our kids do want to see their parents fighting the bad guys together. We would love to team up, maybe it could happen.” Hugh smiled.

“The entire movie would be them making out and her beating the shit out of you. I’d pay to see that.” Ryan added.

•••

Comic Con 2024

Like RDJ, your last Marvel movie had been Avengers: Endgame. After being in ten mcu films, it was time to say goodbye to your character.

But that was in 2019.

At this years comic con, you were back. The cast of Deadpool & Wolverine had taken the stage and showed their appreciation for the fans. After their panel, it was time to announce Marvel’s upcoming projects. Kevin Feige announced the Fantastic Four, Thunderbolts, Captain America 4, and finally the new Avengers movies, which everyone was extremely excited about.

After showing the title card for the upcoming Avengers film, Kevin turned to the audience.

“Something people have been asking, as of late, is who the heck is going to direct these two movies?” The audience clapped.

From the side of the stage, you were nervous. What if the fans didn’t like the idea of you directing the next two Avengers films? Your worrying caused Hugh to come to your rescue.

“Hey, they loved you as an Avenger, they will love you even more.” Hugh kissed your forehead. “If anyone says anything about this decision, they have me to deal with.”

You laughed at his words. “I really love you so much.”

“Love you too, bub.” Hugh was about to kiss you when Ryan cut in.

“I really love us too. I convinced half of the people here that we’re a throuple.” He said in the most serious tone ever.

Kevin announced you as the director. Your doubt of the fans not liking the announcement was proven wrong when you walked the stairs to the stage and stood next to Kevin. They cheered when they saw you were back.

As you said a few words, thanking Marvel, Kevin and the fans, you were being recorded by Hugh, who was being recorded by Ryan.

“That’s my wife!” Hugh cheered from backstage, holding his phone in his hand.

“She’s Marvel Jesus now, holy shit!”

•••

WIRED autocomplete interview

“Is Hugh Jackman married?”

“Yes, to me, Y/n, probably to half the population,” Ryan answered. “He’s Australia’s biggest slut.”

“All the times, I proposed.” Hugh laughed. “But yes, I am married and I love my wife very much. She’s stuck with me forever.” He lifted his hand to show off the wedding band.

“Funny, because she texted me right now. Her and Blake are in the courthouse getting married. So Deadpool three was actually made so our wives could divorce us and marry each other.”

[dollfacefantasy]

can't get started ♡

older bf!logan howlett x fem!reader

logan can't get it up one night and is humiliated. but that just means he'll have to prove he can still satisfy you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, age gap (reader in 20s)

a/n: the part in dpw where he said he's got whiskey dick with the claws turned me on too much tbh

This had never happened to Logan before.

That wasn't a lie he was telling you to make himself look less pathetic. It wasn't an affirmation he repeated in his own head to feel like he was still hot shit. It was the truth. One he would swear to on anything.

He'd never had a problem getting it up before.

Not with you, not with anyone. He thought the healing factor made him immune to whiskey dick or any kind of down-there dysfunction. But apparently not. Because the two of you finally had some time alone after being amidst the chaos of the mansion all day and his body was stalling.

The second he had the bedroom door shut, you were dragging him over to the bed and climbing into his lap. You were doing everything like usual. Your lips pressed against his, and then moved to his jawline and down his neck. Your hands glided across the firm muscles of his chest. Your hips rolled down against his lap, beckoning the appendage between his legs to reciprocate your desire.

But it just wouldn't. He tried to make it because it wasn't a matter of not wanting you. He wanted you bad. 

He grabs your chin and brings your lips back up to his mouth so he can communicate his passion wordlessly. He digs his fingers into your hips, feeling the beginnings of where your flesh swells into your ass. He envisions how you'd been prancing around the whole day, cute tits pushing against the fabric of your t-shirt and calling out for him to grab.

You're so soft and warm. The little mewls that leave your lips sound like calls of angels up above. It doesn't matter though. His cock had clocked out for the night.

"God damnit," he grumbles before brushing you off his lap and bringing his fist down against the mattress. He sighs and his head hangs.

He can already sense the look on your face. Worry, hesitation, and affection swirling into one humiliating look. He feels your hand find his shoulder, the touch tender and accepting.

"It's ok, Logan. We don't have to," you say. Your tone is so soft and gentle, and it just drives him fucking nuts.

"But you want to," he says and looks over at you. The look in your eyes kills him. He knows you don't mean it, but it looks so patronizing. As if he's an old dog about to be taken out back and old yeller'd.

"Yeah but I don't want you to force yourself. We can just cuddle," you offer, sweet as can be.

"It's not forcing, I want to do this. I want you so bad," he says and cups your cheek. He pulls you back onto his lap and nuzzles your neck. "Been thinking about this all day."

You let out a little sigh as he lays some kisses on the column of your throat, and that gives him a spark of hope. Maybe he can do this. Maybe he doesn't have to be put out to pasture just yet. The two of you make out and grind and feel each other up some more. But eventually your tits are all but in his face and his dick still doesn't have a pulse.

He huffs and pulls back. 'Fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says.

You watch him, the gleam in your eyes as adoring as ever. It was the same look you gave him when you'd have to explain a basic function of a cell phone to him.

"It's ok. You don't have to be embarrassed," you reassure and lean in to peck his cheek.

He groans and gently brushes you off. "Don't. I don't need you coddling me."

"I'm just saying. I understand," you say with conviction, hands splaying on your chest to physically convey your empathy, "It happens to lots of guys when they get older. You don't have to be ashamed of it with me."

And in that moment, he wishes he didn't have his mutation so he could just die on the spot from being utterly mortified. He'd actually have preferred if you laughed in his face and called him an old man. A sad, old, perverted fuck who decided to date some half his age even though he couldn't keep up with her appetite. If you'd told him you were gonna find someone who could satisfy you, it probably would've stung less than being talked to like a patient who doesn't know their cancer is terminal.

There was no chance in hell, you'd ever do any of that though. As much as he hated that fact right now, it was part of why he loved you.

All he does is mumble a thank you and kiss the corner of your mouth. He doesn't just cuddle you after though. He gets you off on his thigh. You were still going to cum even if he couldn't. When you're done, he holds you close and rubs your back till you're sleeping curled up to his side.

His night isn't very restful though. It's haunted with the prospect of future incidents like this, of your perception of him changing. The look in your eyes changing from admiration to pity.

He can't live with that. The next day for the two of you is super busy, but he makes sure there's a spot at the end of it for him to secure his redemption.

This time around it's him carting you away from the others once the sun is down, mouth on the curve of your neck before you even reach the bedroom. His hands grope your waist and paw at your tits. You stumble into the door, bumping it loud enough that you'd be worried about someone hearing you if they weren't all downstairs.

"Logan..." you giggle. You push your ass back against him and glance at him out of your peripheral.

"Not what you're gonna be calling me before the night is done, sweet thing," he grunts and boosts you up.

Your legs press into his sides to support yourself as he opens the door. He takes the two of you inside and kicks it shut behind him before heading to the bed and tossing you on the mattress.

You look up at him with a coy smile, arms propping you up and one of your legs extended to entice him.

"You know... you don't have to prove anything to me, right?" you say.

"Oh, I don't?" he asks and grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your hips meet, "You're too easy to please, babydoll."

Another laugh bubbles through your lips. Your legs drop to lock around his waist. "I'm just saying. It's like totally normal, and I don't want you to get all grumpy about it."

"Oh, I get grumpy, do I?" he asks as he leans over you. His large body envelopes yours on the mattress. He ducks down further to swallow your words up with kisses.

You hum into the exchange but pull back a little to finish your thought.

"Mhm, you do. And I just don't want you to feel that way cause I knew when we got together what I was getting into," you say.

Your confidence is so cute. You talk with absolute certainty, like you understand all there is to be understood about him. Like you'd known him forever and he hadn't been doing things like this for decades longer than you walked this earth.

His mouth crashes against yours again, his body weighing down on you and crushing you into the mattress. 

"You did, hm? You knew what you were getting into? You got with me thinking I wouldn't be able to give it to you how you need all the time?" he mutters against your skin.

"I didn't mean it like-"

"Didn't mean it like that? How'd you mean it then, sweetheart?"

"I dunno..."

"Doesn't sound like you knew what you were getting into to me," he breathes.

That little sentence that you'd said in an attempt to comfort him unlocked something between the two of you. He felt his cock waking up and pressing against his zipper, eager to get out and slide home. It's hard to register your clothes being pulled off when he's got his tongue in your mouth and his fingers playing with your clit. In no time at all, he's got the both of you bare and his cock nestled between your thighs.

Like he already knew, the issue last night had never been about lack of desire. And he intended to prove that to you, fuck you so good it wiped your memory of any placating word that fell from your lips.

He ruts into you hard. The mattress rocks on the bed frame and threatens to slide off. His dick is big and even though it's not a new sensation for you, each time you take it is a stretch. It's even more so when he pushes you up by the back of your knees. You whine as you're folded in half. His thrusts hit your sweet spot every time at this angle.

"Thought you knew what you were getting into?" he teases as he pistons himself in and out.

You mewl and bob your head, though you aren't sure if you're shaking your head or nodding.

"Fuckkkk, Logan. 'm sorry," you pant. Your walls squeeze tight around his shaft as your eyes close up. He made every part of your body contract and feel like it was moments from exploding.

He simply laughs at your apology. "Don't gotta be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just showing you what happens when I get older."

His balls hang heavy and swing with each motion, clapping against your ass. The heat between your legs is enough to make you squirm. Constant whimpers pour from your lips as he fucks into you without mercy.

"I know," you moan, "You fuck me better than anyone else."

"That's right," he grunts, "Nobody else could fuck you like this. Just me."

"Mhm, just daddy," you slur and cling onto him tighter. Your arms hook around his neck and keep his sweaty skin flush against yours.

"Just daddy," he repeats, his tone smooth like silk despite his raspy voice, "You don't need anyone else. Not when I can take care of you like this."

His tip prods at your cervix, making you yelp and buck. He doesn't stop though, just keeps battering into you, hammering into your warm, wet hole.

"You don't need any little boys thinking they know how to handle you," he breathes and nuzzles your neck, "Your old man can handle you just fine, make you cum whenever you need."

A strangled cry leaves your lips. Your nails dig into his back so hard that it seems like you wanted to draw blood. His words just make you melt for him. Reduce you down to a compliant jumble of flesh for him to mold and play with how he wants.

"Needa cum right now, daddy," you whine.

"I know you do, spoiled girl. You act so understanding, but I know that little pussy is aching to cum around my cock. To get filled up with my cum," he murmurs.

You nod wildly.

He chuckles at your eagerness and snaps against you even harder.

"Hold on tight, baby," he whispers.

His hips ricochet off your ass, clapping against you with intensity that borders on violent. You squeal and hang on as directed. Your whole body rocks with his momentum. Your head bobbles around like it's empty, which it is. Empty of everything but him.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," you whimper.

"Let it out for me. Let me feel you burst, pretty girl," he grunts as he continues plowing into you.

Your body rolls. Your hips vibrate with the ecstasy release brings you. It crashes over you in one intense wave, like a gallon of liquid euphoria being poured over you. Your eyes flutter, and you bury your face in his neck like he has his in yours.

He fucks you through it. Coos in your ear too. "That's my baby. My sweet girl. Always sound so pretty when you're cumming."

One of your hands flies up to clutch at his thick, dark hair. Keeping him close keeps the words flowing.

"Getting so tight for me, fuck. No one can make me cum like you, honey. Drains me dry every fucking time."

Moments later he spurts into you, unloading thick ropes of his spend inside you. You let out another moan from that sensation alone. He growls and pants against your skin, his hands locking you in place as his hips pummel into your cunt and make sure every last drop has been released.

He lingers on you for a few moments before pulling out. His body feels loose in the afterglow. He stands at the edge of the bed and looks down at himself and then you. He knows he's gonna have to clean you up. Your inner thighs are shimmery with a mix of fluids, and the bush of dark hair at the base of his cock is in the same condition.

"Time to shower, baby?" he asks and pats your leg. You don't respond at first and he smirks. "Or did I tire you out too much?"

You whine something incoherent and shift to turn your face against the blankets. His smug look grows. He crawls over you again and nips at your jaw, rubbing his nose against your cheekbone.

"You know, it's ok, sweetheart. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's totally normal for pretty little things like you. I knew that going in."

His tone mimics your soft and understanding one from earlier. You make a little growl and swat at his bicep.

“Shut up, old man.”

[titaswrld]

deadpool!

….as your boyfriend.

description: deadpool as your boyfriend!

pairing: deadpool x you!

contains: 18+, mentions of sex!

|an: just saw deadpool & wolverine.. couldn’t help myself.

- awful with emotions but always finds a way to make up for things whether through humor or sex.

- speaking of humor you’re never not laughing with him, or bickering, or fucking

- you’re the only person he can actually feel vulnerable and comfortable with, he cherishes that and he loves you so much for that.

- you’re his person, he would genuinely kill for you if it meant he would lose someone so important in his life.

- if someone makes you sad, mad or uncomfortable ooo…not his babygirl.

- he usually doesn’t keep people or friends in his loop often, they could find him annoying or over the top but not you.

- you love absolutely everything about him, his outlandish humor, his extroverted personality, his big ol’ mouth. you think it’s so hot.

- so hot when he’s mean to you so hot when he’s soft with you

- you literally bicker like two teenage girls all the time and he always somehow clocks your tea it’s ridiculous but you also find it impressive that he always has something to say that you cannot come back from😭

- god you need to pray that no man ever even has the thought of coming on to you… he’ll experience some banter with your boyfriend before it’s lights out.

- not only are you his but he’s yours! he’s super loyal and if he can’t get someone to back off , you sure will!

- you’re always having fun with him date nights are some of the best times of your life, he always finds a way to entertain you no matter what you’re doing.

- always gotta hand somewhere, your ass, a singular cheek, a titty, somewhere. how could you expect him not to! you’re all his.

- you literally have him wrapped around your finger, he’d do absolutely anything for you.

- also always bullying you he is so straightforward😭

“hon that has got to be the ugliest shirt i’ve ever seen on you”

“wade-“

“i know you got better in that closet that i snoop through and try on all your clothes when you aren’t home now go!”

- he’s so tall so if you’re short oh wow…you’re never catching a break

“soooo how’s the weather down there.” wade said, placing his elbow on the crown of your head.

“prick…”

…

“yeah that’s enough of that dirty mouth!” your boyfriend had announced before bending down and wrapping an arm around your behind, throwing you over his shoulder and positioning his palm on your ass.

“god, wade put me down!” you’d laughed playfully hitting his back.

“don’t make me have to spank you!” he said, lighting pinching your ass.

- do not get an animal bc it will quickly become his center of attention and he will defend it over you.

“wade, we’re having my mom over please put it in the room”

“ugh…she’s so mean isn’t she sugar?” he’d said stroking your pet, followed by a “yes she is yes she is!” as the animal licked his face.

sigh.

- good lord we got a cuddle monster on our hands!

- absolutely adores any type of affection and practically begs you for it 24/7. he loves being little spoon specifically. also loves it when u scratch or message his back, bc that also gets him going..

- speaking of, you got this guy rock solid 24/7

“hungry for seconds?” he joked, hugging you from behind and pressing his hardened cock against your ass.

“we literally jus-“ you’d started just to be interrupted mid sentence.

“so! cmon baby throw a dog a bone.” he muttered, hand already gripping your inner thigh.

you’d sighed, god you can’t resist him.

- it doesn’t matter what you’re doing he finds anything you do hot i stg

- a M-U-N-C-H! for life, literally came in his pants from eating you out once! he loves making you feel good.

- a goofball during sex he cannot do shit seriously😭 he be talking you and your pussy thru it!

- again, if you’re petite god help you bc he is large.

- babe, you better match his freak because yall doing anything.

- trying a new thing every night multiple times bc that sex is never vanilla and that dick is never tired! at some point he’s just making positions up😭

[moondirti]

MDNI. dubcon. objectification. degradation. humiliation. guys being gross. female reader. fingering. cunnilingus. pussy slapping. brief aftercare. an absurd amount of filth for something so short.

price helping you get over your fear of humiliation by inviting the guys over and prying your pussy open for them, half-slouched on his lap with your legs held up in the air :( they’re so mean about it, too. cooing condescending compliments, curling their nasty hands around your jaw to keep your head in place as they pet your most vulnerable places, like you’re the winning pup at a dog show and not a whole human—entitled to any boundary you set, regardless of how your husband feels.

they pay no heed to your protests, though. actually, the men avoid addressing you at all. rather, all their personal, invasive questions are directed to price, who answers them with his own self-satisfied grin.

‘keeps clenchin’ around nothing, desperate thing. hole this willing deserves to be gaped. how often d'you stuff her?’ depends on if she's been good.

‘fookin’ drooched, cap. does she taste as guid as she looks?’ mm, better. smells like nectar too. take a whiff, son. don’ wash my beard afterward on the occasion, jus to keep her under my nose.

‘think i can thaw a winter’s worth of ice with this cunt alone. heat’s practically radiating off ‘er. pathetic slut.’ y’should see how much worse it gets after a good beating, lieutenant. swells up, and damn well sears my palm.

and of course they take it upon themselves to test the validity of his answers. kyle works four fingers into you, then his thumb, stretching you open for his probing, angling your hips up to the light so that your insides are illuminated for his curious eye. if price didn’t have his rough hands anchored to the underside of your knees, you would have kicked his prized sergeant off.

embarrassment washes your neck in warmth, lashes droopy with fat tears. all your husband does to comfort you is place a scratchy kiss to your shoulder, soft hushes tickling your skin.

then, soap intercedes to shove his nose to your mons. he doesn’t just take a whiff — rather, he sucks in the sweet-sour tang your slick provides, testing it in both scent and taste. his hot tongue laves over where kyle’s fingers had been, incisors nibbling at the ripe bud of your clit. mortifying pleasure sinks low, sloshing in your belly’s bed. though you did not expect him to be, he isn’t modest about it. soap presses completely into your pussy, muzzle lacquered with wetness that rivals yours.

your whimpers devolve into moans. loud, a little unhinged. you’ve always played at dressing them up around price, worried that he’d turn away if your face screwed too tight, or your pleasure made itself known beyond what directly serves him. it’s exactly the habit that got you into this mess; and as you lose yourself to the scene, you can feel his delight blossoming against your back.

ghost scares you the most. he lets you have your orgasm, towering behind the man between your legs, but does not let him revel in it, yanking him back by his mohawk at the first twitch of your toes. in the fervour, you have hard time remembering what you should expect. especially when he doesn’t get to it immediately, wiping the gloss off your plush cunt. his callouses rash you, gritty, abrading the soft surface of your skin. it is only when you wince do his eyes crinkle in a manner cruel enough to evoke what’s to come.

but it’s too late to prime yourself. his hand flies back, coming back twice as fast to strike dead centre between your legs. it hurts. hurts so much more than it ever has before, your body unused to unrestrained strength. you scream, throat mangling around the rough cut of it, fighting wildly against price until you manage to escape his hold. immediately, instead of running away, you twist backwards, burying your face into his neck, calming yourself by taking deep breaths of his cologne. something heady — leather, tobacco, sandalwood — bridges the synapses in your brain, numbs the pain, if only a little.

“shhh, little one. you’re alright. it’s okay. doing so good for us.” he soothes, rubbing your sweaty back. the world narrows to just you and him, his men reduced to mere afterthoughts. to be dealt with later — though you doubt the conversation will be anywhere near reprimanding, more likely to end with a bottle of scotch split between four, approving slaps to the captain’s back, than it ever will in your defence.

“n-ne- never a-ga…”

“come, now. let’s not be brash, mm. i promised them a pump each. ‘n’ what kind of host would i be if i didn’t make good on that?”

[shotmrmiller]

size difference where the one afraid to fuck you is simon. he thinks you soft. which is what you are. soft. fragile. small.

you're not like him. nothing like the guys. battle-scarred. muscles carved by relentless missions, scars that speak of duty.

your skin divots under his fingers, yielding to his weathered touch and if he squeezes hard enough, you'll have marks by morning. (he needs to be careful, he can't hurt you, won't—)

and so simon watches you touch yourself in the beginning, clever fingers swirling over your slippery clit with practiced movements even though his cock is straining against his trousers painfully. he can hear you mewl his name through bitten lips and it takes all of his self control to not tug his jeans off, slot himself between your spread, inviting thighs and push— stretch open your fluttering walls, so hot and slick, until he meets resistance, until he can push no more but—

he can't. you'd hurt. and he'd hurt because he hurt you. he won't.

after, when your eyes are heavy lidded, mouth slightly parted in exertion, you remind him that you aren't made of glass. that you won't break. you'll shatter— in the way you do when his tongue replaces your fingers— but not break.

"not a virgin either, for christ's sake," you groan.

maybe he's thinking too hard about it. he knows your teeth have edges, knows your bite is swift when deserved. but all he's truly good at is making things give. biology made it so with his bulky frame and raw mass.

his eyes trace the contour of your collarbone. delicate. then it darts to the pulse on your wrist. vital. his hands, the size of dinner plates don't coax. they demand. he'd snap you like a twig, leaving nothing but splintered remains in his wake.

you don't seem to mind, however. it slightly alarms him. where's your self-preservation? do you enjoy pain? is this some masochistic thing?

he looks at you, all glassy eyed and dewy skinned (ethereal; you're practically glowing under the soft light of the full moon that paints the room silver) and he thinks of how it's going to take work to make it work. his cock is large (he's seen the guys' eyes pop out of their heads in the showers once they caught a glimpse of what's between his legs) but you're persistent in the end. one too many nights of having him without having him.

he understands. simon knows better than most what it's like to yearn. to want and not have. he'd cause you pain by not giving in, and cause pain by giving in. damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

so he caves. promises to go slow. careful.

"i can take it," you bravely say but he's barely pressing himself to your entrance and you're already making noises that tug at his pathetic little heart. the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip-- you look so pretty, how'd a twisted creature like him get someone like you to come home to-- as his cock fills you has him feeling lightheaded. it takes every ounce of self control to not sink into your heat, to hook your legs around his thick waist and let gravity do the rest.

an unsteady hand weaves its way down to your stuffed cunt, fingers splitting into a vee, feeling how he splits your puffy lips, and the view makes him buck his hips involuntarily.

his hands tighten around your calves when you keen, a high pitched noise that swells the lust he feels burning white hot at the base of his spine, tips of his fingers, deep within his loins. he feels ready to burst.

and he's only halfway in.

your voice cuts through the ringing in his ears. "m-more, simon, c'mon," the n is low and drawn out.

his fingers bite into your flesh as he pushes slow, oh so slowly, until your vise-like cunt envelops him completely. the sibilant hiss you let out makes his hair stand on end. (shame pricks at his nerves like a thousand tiny needles when his cock twitches at the sound of your slightly pained moans)

simon doesn't move, feeling your swollen walls around his cock ripple, tighten and slacken, like it's got a pulse of its own. he could be here, in you, cock deep in paradise for the rest of time.

"fuck me," you warble out, hand rubbing your swollen clit to well up the pleasure that's being smothered by the searing pang of discomfort.

when simon cants his hips back, he watches his cock come out of you, glistening with slick. his jaw aches from how hard he's clenching it. control. got to keep it slow, gentle. slow, simon, slow, slow--

"harder."

he feels the sudden sharp sting of your nails and jerks forward in surprise, filling you completely in one fast movement.

your moan this time is needy, thick with want, arousal dripping from your voice as it does your pussy, coating him in creamy white, a frothy ring at the root.

simon can see the barest of bumps below your navel, or maybe he's seeing things, your hot cunt putting him in a state of delirium but the way you take all of his cock and continue to beg for more, beg him to fuck you like he means it even though he's twice if not thrice your size well...

you'll just have to forgive him on the finger-shaped bruises they're going to be on your body after.

(you'd looked so cheeky before he flipped you onto your knees, grabbing onto your delicate neck like a lifeline as he pulled your hips to meet his. you'd taken him easier here, cunt sodden with slick but the angle had him reaching a devastating depth no one else could ever dream of reaching and even though it'd sprung tears to the corners of your eyes at the pinch, "mama ain't raise no bitch.")

[artdcnaldson]

NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit

This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other

A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)

“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”

Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.

Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.

“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.

“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”

“How?” Patrick asked.

Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”

Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.

With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.

“What?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”

You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.

His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.

The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.

Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.

Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”

You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.

“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.

Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.

And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.

Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.

You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”

“Good,” Patrick said.

At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”

Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.

“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.

Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”

You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”

You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.

“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”

Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.

Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.

Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.

You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.

“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”

You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.

He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”

Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”

You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.

“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”

Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.

He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.

And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.

And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”

Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.

Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.

“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”

He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.

Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.

Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.

Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.

“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.

They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.

(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.

Student scenarios and profiles:

◇ Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.

He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...

"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"

◇ Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.

Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.

"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."

◇ Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.

He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.

He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.

◇ Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.

He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risqué shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risqué pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.

Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.

"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.

◇ Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.

Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.

Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.

With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.

Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.

They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.

"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.

All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)

[bro-atz]

that's what roommates are for

in which: you're extremely frustrated, and your roommates can't help but overhear.

pair: yunho/san/mingi/afab!reader

word count: 2.7k

content: smut, slight themes of voyeurism, foursome/gang bang, slight hand kink, oral, anal, double (+ triple) penetration, fluid bonding-ish, definitely filthy, unprotected sex (PLS USE PROTECTION IRL!), creampies, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: tbh i can't remember why i started writing this... but i know i want to blame @skteezcursed for some reason... also thank you @bunny4yungi for helping me with some of the details of this fic!

You didn’t know this, but the guys could hear you. You thought that they were too invested in playing video games that they wouldn’t be able to hear you playing with yourself and your vibrator, but they heard every single noise coming from your room. They specifically paused their video game so they could hear your soft, stifled moans and sighs of pleasure, all three of them getting real fucking hard with every passing second.

You just needed release, honestly. It felt like it had been centuries since you had a nice, good fuck, and you were super pent up. However, a vibrator did nothing for you, and you didn’t have the energy to use a dildo. You struggled trying to get yourself to cum for a solid several minutes before officially throwing in the towel and calling it a day.

The second they heard the vibrator turn off, the men resumed their video game, all three of them trying their hardest to ignore the lewd sounds coming from your room just moments prior and their rock solid cocks. It certainly did not help when you joined them in the living room wearing nothing but shorts and a tank top— it was hot outside and in the apartment, and you weren’t about to sweat to death— and sitting down in front of the couch right next to Yunho’s legs.

You watched as the three of them fixated on their video game, unaware of the tension starting to build in the room. San was sitting in the arm chair and Mingi in the love seat, both of them stealing secret glances at you while Yunho did his best to keep his knee from bobbing up and down nervously as you rested your head against his leg, nor did he dare look down at you knowing that he would get an eyeful of your cleavage.

The second the round of the game ended, all three of them set their controllers aside and looked right at you. You, however, were still absentmindedly staring at the screen.

"Hey, roomie, you okay?" Yunho was the first to speak and somewhat hesitant at that.

He reached down towards your head and smoothed out your hair, making you tilt your head towards his leg. You let out a heavy sigh, your chest moving heftily, nearly getting all three boys to gag.

"Yeah... I'm fine..."

"That doesn't sound fine to me. Spill."

When you turned to look up at Yunho, your breasts pressed against his leg, making his entire body tense up and flush with heat. Then, you looked up at him with big, sad eyes that made him want to grab you and take you right there, but he held himself back because, oh dear Lord, you were his roommate for crying out loud.

"I'm just... Tired," you answered— and that was the truth. You were tired. You were tired of being so goddamn sexually frustrated, but there was no way in hell you were going to admit that to him or any of your other roommates. "Don't worry about it— It's not like you can do anything about it."

"Nuh-uh, don't do that girl thing where we ask you and then you keep deflecting and then get mad at us for not helping," Mingi spoke up, a little frustration in his voice.

"Yeah, plus, I'm sure if you told us, we could help in some way," San added, his voice nearly cracking as he realized the weight of his words.

"No, guys, seriously. I'm not doing that "thing", and I'm honestly just tired!"

"Would, uh, going to bed help?" Mingi asked while clearing his throat.

"You would think it would..." you muttered.

"Y/N, just tell us," Yunho prompted.

You pressed your lips together in a straight line then looked down at the ground. Oh, I'm just really fucking horny and frustrated and can't find a good guy to fuck is all. As if you could ever really admit that to your three male roommates.

"It's nothing," you said again. "I'm just going to go to bed. Good night, guys."

With that, you got up and left the three of them in the living room. You returned to your room, closed the door, and flung yourself onto your bed with a massive sigh. You stared at the ceiling while you tried to figure out what the hell to do about your fucking situation when you heard a light knock on the door.

"Come in," you said to the person on the other side.

Yunho walked in and closed the door gently behind him before joining you on the bed. You were still laying down and couldn't be bothered to sit up, so Yunho joined you and laid down right next to you, his body turned towards yours.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hi..."

"Look at me," he continued while turning you over so that you were facing him.

His hand caressed your head as the two of you laid across from each other, the repetitive motion easing your anxiety slightly and also turning you on a bit.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I can't say, Yunho..."

"Then... Can I say something?"

You blinked and nodded. Yunho pressed his lips together and closed his eyes for a brief second before trailing his hand from your head down your shoulder and to your waist, his fingers rubbing along the curve of your waist as he rested his hand there. You wanted to tear yourself from your roommate's touch, but he was just checking off all the boxes and making you feel just right that you wondered where on Earth he was going to go from there.

"We heard you earlier," he whispered.

He didn't need to clarify for you to understand exactly what he was talking about. Mortified, you covered your burning face with your hands and held back a scream, your entire body ready to burst into flames.

"And," he continued despite you praying in your head that he would not. "We would like to help... In any way..."

"Yunho, shut up," you nearly sobbed into your hands. "I'm literally so embarrassed right now."

"Y/N, I don't think you understand what I'm trying to say," Yunho let out a slightly exhausted sigh as he pulled your hands away from your face. "Whatever it is that's frustrating you, I'm sure we can help."

The second you looked into Yunho's eyes, your insides flipped. His eyes were usually soft and kind, but at that moment, he had the most intense gaze on you that made you feel like you were a piece of meat and he was starving to death.

That's when you did the unthinkable. You moved forward and left the lightest kiss on his lips before immediately moving back and looking at his reaction, your eyes darting back and forth as you observed every single detail on his face. Next thing you knew, Yunho's hand slipped to your ass, and he brought you forward, his lips meeting yours gently at first. It wasn't until you ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head did Yunho get a lot more aggressive. He sucked hard on your lower lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

"Tell me," he breathed out, his hot breath hitting your neck. "What do you want?"

"I... I want to be fucked senseless," you responded in between kisses. "Until I can't cum anymore."

In response, Yunho pulled your leg over and around his legs, allowing him to press his crotch against yours, the large bulge sending shivers down your spine. You didn't expect him to be so packed, and he was still wearing his clothes, so it made you nervous to see exactly what he was working with.

"So, then," Yunho pulled back slightly, allowing you to breathe and regain the tiniest bit of sanity— he was an amazing kisser. "Will you let us help you?"

"God, yes, please," you agreed before the words could completely sink in. Gulping nervously, you asked, "What do you mean by us?"

You thought Yunho closed the door completely when he entered your room, but he didn't. Through the slight crack in the door, your other two roommates watched, their hard ons only getting harder and more painful. They wanted so badly to jump in and lend a hand, and they finally got that chance when Yunho turned to the door and said, "Don't just stand there and watch. Come help."

You sat up immediately and watched San and Mingi tentatively enter the room, their faces flushed, their eyes dark. They joined the two of you on the bed, all three men trapping you in the middle of them. Yunho was directly in front of you. He held your chin and tilted your head upwards.

"Suck my fingers, won't you?"

The filthy words leaving his mouth with the sweetest voice had your insides completely trembling. You took his hand in yours and slowly ran your tongue along his index finger before taking it into your mouth. Yunho's breath hitched as you looked up at him and sucked his finger so sensually. He was about to lose his fucking mind when you took another finger into your mouth, a slight whine leaving your lungs as your panties pooled with arousal and your hips moved back and forth impatiently.

San was the first to act. From behind, he reached in between your legs and started rubbing his fingers into your clothed crotch, your hips moving in sync with his fingers. But that wasn't enough. You needed more— way more.

Your hands hooked into the waistband of Yunho's pants and tugged down, his cock catching on the waistband before springing upwards. He was long and pretty, and you tried to calculate how big he actually was, but he barely gave you the chance to do so. He took his fingers out of your mouth and immediately replaced it with his cock. The tip hit the back of your throat almost immediately, making you gag. He placed his hand on the back of your head and guided you slowly until you bottomed out on his full length.

As you sucked Yunho's cock, San pushed you forward so that you were forced onto your hands and knees. He pulled your shorts down and immediately smacked your bare ass as if it was some sort of reflex, making you yelp and moan. His fingers rubbed along your wet folds a couple times before he sunk two of his fingers into your cunt, your toes curling as you felt him finger you roughly.

While San worked on you from behind, Mingi decided to work on your tank top. He scrunched up fabric in the middle and pulled downwards to release your breasts, the man inhaling sharply when he saw them jiggle slightly. He cupped your breast and massaged firmly before he rubbed and tugged on your nipples, your back arching as a result.

At that point, Mingi couldn't take it anymore. He pulled his own massive cock out and somehow moved your face towards his cock. When you took him into your mouth, you realized he was just as long as Yunho, but the corners of your mouth stung slightly because he was definitely girthier. A long, rumbling moan left Mingi's throat when you hollowed out your cheeks and began sucking obnoxiously loud. You were stroking Yunho's cock as you sucked on Mingi's, and San, who wanted some fun of his own, also pulled out his cock, willing you to stroke him too.

You took turns sucking all three men off, your saliva dripping off their dicks as your mouth watered more and more the longer you sucked. But, again, you needed more. You needed them inside you. You needed them to violate you.

Moments later, you were on your hands and knees on your bed once again. Yunho was lying on the bed underneath you, Mingi was kneeling behind you, and San was in front of you. They wasted no time in getting to work. Yunho slipped the tip of his cock into your cunt before holding your waist and sitting you down all the way.

"Oh, fuck! Yunho, you're too big," you nearly sobbed when you felt him hit your cervix when he bottomed out.

"Oh, then you're definitely going to lose it now," Mingi couldn't help but smirk when the tip of his cock prodded into your ass.

You cried loudly when Mingi forced his cock into you inch by inch, your tight hole spreading wide to fit his girth. Your cry was cut short when San stuffed his own cock into your mouth, the man shushing you as he did so.

"Yes, just like that," San groaned. "Fuck, you feel so good..."

You were so occupied by San's cock that you didn't realize Yunho was guiding your waist up and down. You only realized that you were bouncing when you felt Mingi's go deeper inside you. Tingles shot through your body as you felt their cocks rubbing and reaching all the right spots, and when Mingi smacked your ass before grabbing so tightly that his fingernails dug slightly into your skin, you felt tension build up in your stomach at an exponential rate.

Suddenly, San's breathing hitched. He grabbed the back of your head and pulled his cock, but before he could cum, you managed to take him back into your mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed as his cum spurt into your mouth, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and his jaw unhinging slightly as he came. After blinking the stars from his eyes, he looked at you and bit his lower lip while petting your hair, his cock still rock solid in your mouth.

You were quickly brought back to the situation when Yunho bucked his hips upwards, his cock practically ramming into your cervix as he came. Your legs trembled, and you let out a choked sob as you felt the tension snap within you. White filled your vision and pleasure swept through your body as you came hard. Yunho raised your waist off his hips entirely, and you squirted all over him and the bed when his cock left you, his own cum mixed with your arousal. Both his and your cum then rolled down your legs slowly, Yunho salivating at the sight and getting turned on all over again.

Mingi's cock was still deep in your ass, and he spread your asscheeks wide before pulling out, the sight of your gaping hole driving him insane. He just had to re-enter you because he was so close to bursting, and he desperately wanted to fill you up with his cum. He rammed his hips against your ass over and over again with so much force that you practically collapsed on Yunho's chest, and he was being so forceful that you were crying with pleasure so loudly that it echoed in the room. To make matters even crazier, Yunho sat up slightly so he could reach in between your legs and finger you quickly while San wrapped his hand around your neck and pressed into the sides lightly, choking you and making you feel absolutely wrecked.

Yunho's fingers curled inside you just right to the point where you came yet again, and this time you came so hard that you clenched tightly around Mingi's cock, the intense pressure making him cum with you. You gasped for air and moaned loudly when San let go of your neck to rest his hand on your cheek as if to praise you. He tugged on your lower lip with his thumb, making you instinctually take his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it.

Mingi pulled out and spread your ass once more to look at his work. He watched as your hole clenched around air several times before the cum he shot deep into you started coming to the surface and trickling out and rolling down your ass and leg.

"Shit, this is so fucking hot," Mingi uttered to himself as he couldn't tear his eyes away from you. "You're so fucking hot."

"Y/N is so fucking hot," San added as he tapped his cock against your cheek. "Very fucking hot... We should do this more often."

"What if..." you breathed out— you were still catching your breath. "What if I'm not done with you yet?"

"Hmm? You still don't feel good?" Yunho teased as he moved your hair from your face, willing you to look at him. "Do you want more?"

"Yes, please."

networks:

@atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @ksmutsociety

@newworldnet @san-network @wonderlandnet

taglist:

@k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia

@dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever

@sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyunukitty

@startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @bsehindu @dinossaurz

@woomyteez @/skteezcursed @yessa-vie @minkilicious @isiloiale

@ywtfvs @nvdhrzn @khjoongie98 @jaerisdiction @ninoshome1

@aaa-sia @tiredlittlevirgo @preciouswoozi @yunhoszn @woohwababes

apply for the permanent taglist here!