im peachii! i’ve officially been on this blog for a year and i’m excited to write and share idea with new people!
this blog is 18+ [sfw + nsfw] and black and poc reader friendly!
asks: open!
thirsts: open!
tags. mlist. about me. rules. tenchii.
it’s over
i am officially retired! this blog will stay up for people to reread and enjoy my work but honestly my heart isn’t in the MHA fandom anymore and i don’t have the time to keep up with the demand coming back might generate. i might finish some things, i might now, but this blog is still mine. feel free to say hi! i’m still here, just a little different. thanks for all your support over the years. much love,
I like smut as much as the next person but yall aren't even trying to write anymore. All fanfic on here is just 300 words of sex and then just tagging any character you think fits.
For the event 10 Forbidden Desires hosted by @merakidoll <3
¤▪︎950+words, smut/explicit sexual content(18+), Lazy sex, domestic intimacy, post-mission exhaustion, Toji Fushiguro x BlkFem!Reader, grinding, fingering, soft dominance, lazy sex, no condom(wrap the willy), etc.▪︎¤
The sheets had gone cold without him.
You’d curled yourself into the blankets, limbs heavy and brain fuzzy, too tired to stay awake but too aware to really sleep. The bedside lamp was still on, casting a low amber glow across the room, shadows clinging to corners. The silence was thick. Comfortable. Still.
You heard the bathroom door creak open before you saw him.
Toji stepped into the bedroom barefoot, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, a towel slung low around his hips. There were new bruises on his ribs, a red line along his collarbone, and his eyes were dark—worn down and burned out.
He caught your eyes, gave a low grunt that might’ve been a greeting. You hummed in reply, not bothering to sit up. He didn’t need words right now. Neither did you.
Toji dropped the towel without ceremony and slipped into bed behind you, the mattress dipping under his weight. He was still warm from the shower but carried that scent—soap and sweat and blood not quite scrubbed away. One arm hooked around your waist, slow and lazy, and he pressed his chest to your back, pulling you flush.
“Still awake?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
You nodded, barely. “Was waiting.”
He made a low sound—something like a chuckle, more breath than voice. His fingers dragged along your stomach, lazy and open-palmed, until they dipped lower, brushing beneath your waistband.
“Mm,” he rasped, “shouldn’t’ve waited up. I’m not good for much tonight.”
But his hand stayed there. Just resting. Warm. Heavy.
And then he moved.
Slow. Sloppy. Just enough to press against you, his hips grinding lazy into yours under the sheets, half-hard, half-asleep, but still aching for you.You let out a soft breath when his hips rocked again, the motion barely there—more friction than rhythm. His cock nestled against you, not fully hard but wanting, pressing warm and thick between your thighs through thin fabric. He exhaled rough against your neck, hand sliding lower now, dipping beneath your waistband fully.
“Don’t gotta move,” he mumbled, fingers brushing against your folds—lazy, testing, finding you already warm. “Just stay like this.”
You nodded, cheek pressed into the pillow, your body melting into his. There was no urgency. No sharpness. Just the heavy drag of his palm over your clit, the slow spread of his fingers as he dipped into you, curling shallow, tired but focused.
“That’s it,” he whispered, breath hitching when your hips tilted back into him. “Good girl. Just take it.”
His voice was deeper when he was like this—half-asleep and unguarded, all gravel and heat. His free hand slid under your shirt, splaying across your stomach, grounding you. You could feel his breathing slow behind you, in sync with yours, as if the act of touching you soothed something restless in him.
He rubbed slow circles against your clit with the pad of his thumb, slick sounds filling the quiet room as his fingers moved in and out, deeper now. Still careful. Still slow. No teasing, no build-up games—just steady, messy affection, drawn from the need to feel you and be inside you, even if only with his hands.
You whimpered softly, not from overwhelming pleasure, but from the way it crept up on you—warm and sleepy and deep. His dick was harder now, rutting lazily against the curve of your ass, each grind syncing with the rhythm of his fingers.
“Wanna come like this?” he murmured, voice hoarse, lips ghosting along your jaw. “Let me do the work. Just relax” Your reply was a quiet sound—more breath than word—and you didn’t need to say anything more. He could feel it in the way your body tightened under his hand, hips barely shifting against him like you were too far gone to do anything but receive.
“That’s it,” he muttered, thumb circling slow and slick. “Right there. Stay with me.”
Your thighs trembled, walls clenching around his fingers as the pleasure built with a slow, molten pull. No sharp edge—just a wave that crested so gradually you almost didn’t notice until it crashed. You exhaled hard into the pillow, jaw slack, body locking up around his hand as you came with a soft, stuttering cry. Not loud. Not showy. Just messy and full, spreading from the base of your spine all the way to your fingertips.
He kissed your shoulder, lips barely touching your skin. “Good girl,” he whispered, pulling his hand free with a sticky drag. “Knew you would.”
Toji didn’t rush. He shifted behind you, dragging his dick up and down your slit, groaning low in his chest as he rutted slow against your entrance.
“No condoms left,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “Don’t got the energy to go get one.”
You reached behind and touched his thigh, a half-hearted reassurance, a wordless yes.
He pushed in slow—so slow it almost hurt, the stretch deep and lazy and there. His breath stuttered out against your neck when he bottomed out, hips pressed flush, both of you still for a long moment. Just feeling.
“So fuckin’ warm,” he whispered, voice cracked open by exhaustion. “Gonna stay right here. Just like this.”
His thrusts weren’t really thrusts. Just slow grinds, hips rolling into yours, no pace to keep—only friction, depth, and weight. One hand splayed on your hip, holding you steady, thumb stroking your skin like it was a reflex.
The sheets were twisted. The room smelled like sex and skin and sleep. Your bodies stuck together with sweat and slick, but neither of you cared. He fucked you like he was falling asleep in you—slow, steady, too wrecked to pull away. A lazy claim.
“Stay up for me a little longer,” he murmured, forehead pressed to the back of your head. “Then we sleep.” The quiet of the room was broken by the sloppy sound of Toji’s hips pressing against yours—each drag of his cock slow, wet, and heavy. His body was too tired to move with any real precision, but the rhythm was there, a lazy thrust that rumbled through your whole body with every push. He felt thick inside you, and when his hips met yours, a muffled squelch filled the space between your breaths.
You made soft, breathy noises, your mouth slightly open, moaning into the pillow beneath you, each sound coming out muffled and half-formed. It wasn’t a moan of pure pleasure, but one of exhaustion too—of your body feeling every inch of him as he rocked into you like a man too tired to care for control. Your legs felt weak, knees bent and pressed against the sheets as his body shifted over you. The slickness between your thighs only made the movement sloppier—his cock dragging through your folds in the slowest, most disjointed rhythm.
He groaned behind you, his voice strained, and his fingers dug into your hips, pulling you back onto him with each sluggish thrust. His breath was shallow, like he could barely catch it, coming in bursts—faint gasps that matched the drag of his cock slipping in and out of you, each thrust muffled by the sound of skin on skin. His hands were all over you, gripping your sides, pushing you back into his grinding, as if he were trying to anchor himself in the feeling.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he muttered, voice rough, and there was something tender in the words, even if it was just exhaustion. “So warm around me.”
You whimpered softly, your voice a breathy mix of moans and soft gasps. Every time he pushed deeper, the stretch made your body tighten and pulse around him, but you couldn’t help the way your hips instinctively moved with him, seeking more. Even tired as you were, there was still a hunger inside you, drawn out by the feeling of him filling you, his cock hitting the right spot every time, sending little waves of heat coursing through your lower belly.
He leaned forward, his chest brushing your back, and you could feel his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, “Don’t stop moving.”
His thrusts picked up slightly, but they were still slow—sloppy, his dick dragging deeper in a way that made your head spin. The bed creaked under him, the sheets rustling beneath you as his body pressed against yours. His movements were messy—hitting you at awkward angles, slipping in and out of you with a wet slapping sound, each thrust a reminder of how fucking tired he was but still determined to feel you.
You let out a shaky, half-formed cry when one of his thrusts hit too deep, the feeling of him rubbing against your inner walls making your back arch off the mattress. “Toji… fuck,” you gasped, voice weak, shaky.
"Yeah," he whispered, his voice a rough rasp, “I know… I know, baby.”
He slipped a hand between your legs, fingers slick from the mess between you, and found your clit with slow, purposeful circles. Your body jolted beneath his touch, the added pressure sending sparks of pleasure through the haze of exhaustion. You pushed back into him without thinking, chasing more of that delicious, lazy rhythm that made your limbs feel heavy and your head spin. His cock was still sliding in and out, wet and dragging, the sound of it filling the space as he kept his pace slow and steady, not wanting to rush but not able to stop.
Toji’s breath came heavier now, his cock pushing deeper with each drag, a low groan slipping from his throat. “So fuckin’ good,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
Your body tightened around him, the pleasure crawling through you at a slow, steady pace. Your clit throbbed under his touch, the wetness between your legs only making the movements sloppier, messier. And then, with a shuddering gasp, you came again—slower this time, the pleasure dragging out of you in waves, leaving you breathless, your body tense and shaking in his arms. You cried out his name, soft and desperate.
Toji’s thrusts faltered, his dick jerking inside you as you came, and he groaned deeply, his voice thick with relief and exhaustion. He didn’t stop moving—just slowed, still grinding lazily against you as his breath hitched, his release creeping up on him.
With one last deep thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, his body freezing for a long moment, and you could feel him pulse inside you, warm and thick. He let out a low, satisfied grunt, his head dropping to your shoulder as he held still, just breathing.
The room was quiet again, save for the sound of your soft breathing and his tired murmurs, his hand still resting between your legs, fingers gently stroking your skin.
“Good girl,” he whispered, voice barely above a rasp, his chest rising and falling slowly against your back. “So good for me.”
And just like that, with nothing else to say, the two of you drifted off into the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, exhaustion pulling you both under, the room heavy with the aftermath of shared intimacy.
getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.
pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader
contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)
words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!
warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3
extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.
song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!
signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾
—
not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.
you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.
"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.
"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"
not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.
but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.
he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.
not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.
not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.
"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"
"i've done it before. i made it home."
not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.
not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.
not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.
not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.
not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.
you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.
not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”
"really? you're wild. but i get it."
"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.
"what?" you smile.
"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.
not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.
not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.
not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.
not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.
not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.
the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.
not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.
not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.
not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.
not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time.
in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.
not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.
you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.
you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.
not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already.
not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed.
he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.
“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.
“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”
“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.”
and there it is again.
not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.
and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.
“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”
“then do it.”
not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.
“how long?” you ask between kisses.
“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.
god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.
the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.
you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.
he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"
you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.
"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.
not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.
"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.
"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.
"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.
"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.
"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.
"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.
he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.
"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."
"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."
and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.
not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.
pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.
until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.
it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.
"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.
you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.
“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.
fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.
"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.
"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.
"bet you are."
you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.
"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.
"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.
"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.
not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”
"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.
"mhm?" he hums.
you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.
"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.
not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.
"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.
body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.
he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.
"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.
you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."
"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."
"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.
"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.
"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.
"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."
he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.
"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.
"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.
"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."
"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.
"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.
"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.
"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.
he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.
the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.
"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.
"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.
"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.
"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.
"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.
not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.
"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.
you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.
"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.
"wan' you to cum, hobes."
"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.
"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.
the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.
after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.
not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.
hi cool person!!! i was wondering if you could do texting iida? like any context, but just make it iida as our bf or friends to lovers or something. thankss
manual override | t. iida
dating tenya iida is like loving a perfectly alphabetized fire drill—structured, intense, and somehow exactly what you needed.
coming back on to say fuck donald trump & elon musk. also fuck every single person who voted for trump. fuck ice. fuck jd vance who look like he’s product of fucking incest. fuck trump kids while we at. fuck teslas. fuck cybertrucks. fuck melania trump, idc how many fashion houses style you…fuck you too. fuck all the people who voted for trump cause of tariffs and don’t even know know what a tariffs are. fuck all the people he pardoned for that jan 6th shenanigans (but tbh the way it’s looking like, karma is slowly snatching some of you guys up bit by bit final destination style). fuck the Latinos that voted for trump, baby girl (saying in gn term) trump supporters do not care…they see you speak a lick of spanish…they’re calling ice on you, fuck jill stein for crawling out the hole she be living in every 4 years when election comes around. fuck all the twitch/other platform streamers that are slowly indoctrinating young boys down an alt right pipeline. fuck israel. fuck all politicians that would rather accept a lobby check than being in their political positions for the people. fuck the swole neck man that killed ace in one piece. fuck the coon black man that ruined my morning when i saw a clip of him in 4k live calling donald trump daddy. fuck the republicans who comment under people who are genuinely afraid of what’s to come for the next 4 years with “we won” (as if this is a sporting event :/).
but i love you to the people who are sharing and expressing empathy to their friends and family as y’all are trying to navigate through this. i love you to the people who are posting pics and videos of ice sightings. i love you to the people sharing resources like gardening tips. i love you to the people who are buying banned books. i love you to the people who are still teaching their kids about black history. i love you to the people who never stopped talking about palestine, congo, sudan, etc. i love you to the people who are still being hopeful that america won’t continue to be pushed further and further into the grasp of billionaires like elon. i love you to the people who are standing up against bigotry. i love you to the people who are standing against elon doing a nazi salute (twice). i love you to the people sharing information that seemed to be not being shared on mainstream media. i love you all (except trump supporters).
Yeah. Tenya kinda turned into my all time NR.1. Then there is MezoTenya Poly. And Fatgum is my dad...... so yeah still deep into the fandom
And thank you. 😊
Also do you now have new Fandoms ?
not sure how that all works but we can put a pin in that for now
i don’t have any super new fandoms, i got into law and order SVU for a little bit, so i’ve been reading some fics over there. i also still have a soft spot for all things marvel so sometimes i’ll pop over there just to see what everyone is up to!
i’ve never really been good at being in a fandom, i’m very much a silent reader, and in recent years it feels like good fan content has been really hard to find and i’m in it for nostalgia’s sake mostly, so it’s not a priority.
this feels so weird like i feel like someone put me on a completely empty stage at my 7th grade talent show
uhhhh... hi everyone!
i honestly don't know what to say LMFAO like I've been thinking about it and the words just aren't flowing the way they should be, but hello! how are you all???? (if anyone is even still here)
i'll come out and say what some people might already suspect but im not involved in any of the fandoms i previously was at the same level anymore, so that's been making writing super duper hard. i've never been a fandom-y person, and when i started this blog i didn't think anyone was gonna read a single word that i had to say, but over time i started picking up a little community and i'm still forever grateful to you all for all the love and support you've shown me over the almost 2? 3? years
a lot has been going on in my personal life, namely getting adjusted to college and living away from home. my workload as a design student is extremely heavy, not giving me much time to really focus on my hobbies like writing during the year, and with the lack of inspiration it's really been hard to even think about coming back even part-time.
what exactly does this all mean?
well, firstly this is not goodbye! all my fics will still be up and available to be read, i lurk on this app quite a bit, and i have no intentions to quit tumblr for good!
additionally, i still want to try and finish within the valley! even tho im not as heavily involved in the MHA fandom as before, i love the story ive created and i still want to tell it. chapters are still being written as we speak and hopefully i can get something substantial out before the summer is over.
i don't want to make any promises i can't keep, so the main takeaway from this update should be im trying my very best. life has been beating everyones ass lately, and I've been treading water for a while, just trying to stay afloat. all i ask for is grace and patience (not that you've ever given me less than that)
there's not much else to this update, id love to know how everyone else is doing tho! i miss talking to you guys for sure! stay tuned for any news/updates i have in the coming weeks and thank you from the bottom of my heart!
Hi!! Can I have a text fic with Izuku for “I like the way words come out of your mouth”? Something like Izuku is rambling on about something, realizes and apologizes, but the reader’s like “nah it’s cute”
a/n: izuku is literally adorable but i never write for him idk i feel like i would scare him with my big ass personality BDJSBSJSJSSJ, but this is cute! a bit longer than the others too
here’s the main post for my 100 followers mini event! 2/5 slots left!
When out and about, Sonny prefers to be called his real name. He loves how creative you are with nicknames, but everyone at the precinct will try to call him those nicknames if they found out what they were.
“Doll, I love ya. I really do, but please don’t call me Lovebug in front of the team. I just got the Sarg to stop calling me Cuddlebear.”
It will never happen. You will always give his team some fuel, but they love you for it.
When in private, he eats up every name you call him, He will and has answered to everything. When you come up with a new nickname, he smiles and kisses you to show he approves.
He comes running whenever you call for him. In the bathroom and ran out of toilet paper?
“Angel, I need some more TP.” “Coming, Beautiful.”
NSFW:
When in the bedroom, it’s Sonny’s turn to be creative.
You wear the pants in the bedroom, and there is no way Sonny could ever argue it.
He loves to call you Mistress, and Madam. Sometimes, when he is in a very sub mood he pulls out the “Donna” card.
With the stress of his work, he loves that you control everything and he shows that by properly addressing you.
You know he’s lost all control when he starts to use Italian honorifics.
Principessa, Duchessa, Regina
When he asks permission to cum?
“La mia Regina, please.”
You would be lying if you said it wasn’t the hottest thing in the world.
