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derangederensimp · 11 months

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Jujutsu Kaisen Toji Head Canons

Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

CW: Angst, Fluff, Smut. Age gap

Let’s kick it off with angst…

When you first met Toji you thought he was an asshole, the way he stared glared at you made you roll your eyes. He eyed the cafes menu quickly before dropping his sites back on you “give me a cup of Chamomile and cookie would ya?” His voice was deep and sexy which you were expecting but he looked more like a coffee drinker but good taste. Giving him the total he was short a bit but you covered the change “have a good day” you said with a smile “yeah, whatever” he said walking away. You and a coworker talked about how he couldn’t even pay the full amount and still gave an attitude after your kindness instead of telling him to pick between the tea or the cookie. Sighing to yourself you doubted you’d see him again anyways. Few days later he walked in again, baggy pants, tight black shirt, and sandals. Stepping up to the counter he put the same amount of money on the counter as last time still short “give me the same thing I got last time” - “your short $1.50” you said. “You covered it last time” he stared blankly. If you had eyes in the back of your head you would’ve seen how closely Toji watched you prepare his tea and package up his cookie that he really didn’t even want but he liked that you were willing to pay for it. His gaze would go back to a blank stare when you returned to the counter. Again leaving with an attitude just to watch you for a moment through the glass at how flustered you looked. It was a reoccurring thing and you just kept paying for his difference each time getting more and more pissed off, your greeting were starting to sound like a nice “fuck you” to his ears. Which made him smirk. You finally learned his name, not by asking but you must’ve been staring at his muscles a bit too hard and he took it as you were hitting on him and wanted to introduce himself. After you told him your name he repeated it a few times before leaving. Weird. Few weeks went by before you saw him again and when he did come in you noticed his face had some cuts healing on it. “Can I have your number?” He asked, grabbing his tea from your hand, you stared at him with your mouth parted before you could speak. Your coworker shouted from the back “aren’t you a bit too old for her sir”. Your eye twitched as you slowly turned your head. Why are they ruining your chances to reject him on your own. Taking away the satisfaction of seeing the man’s ego crumble but again before you could he interrupted “if I wanted your number too I would’ve asked so why don’t you mind your business brat I just want the pretty woman’s number who can’t stop staring at me like I’m a piece of meat. And so you gave him your number while your face was beet red.

Once Toji sets his sights on something he doesn’t give up till he has it.

Toji the more you got to know him he wasn’t that much of an asshole but still was one

He is late picking you up for your first “date” but swears he will make it up later

He plays hard to get telling you that he isn’t really looking for a relationship but likes your company he finds you “interesting” you find him irritating.

Toji has the worst attitude but after getting to know him you learned how to navigate it.

You stood him up on this so called second date, he showed up to the cafe the next day pissed off and sat at the table without ordering till you came and talked to him. He was pouting like a puppy.

He kept texting you late at night and when he sometimes wouldn’t you’d get a strange ache in your chest that drove you insane. It’s not like you actually liked the guy right…

Fluff

Everything about him is attractive. His voice, his build, everything which makes it hard for you to not think about.

His scent was intoxicating

He stays up at night thinking of you too, he tries not to send to late of texts because he knows you’ll stay up chatting with him when you should be sleeping you have work and he well, his work he doesn’t want to talk about.

He is strong, funny, and makes you laugh.

His humor can take a bit to get used to but once you got it he made you laugh till you cried every time.

More and more of your shifts had to get picked up from other coworkers because Toji wanted to take up majority of your time.

Toji hates being fluffy but for you he will. When he sees your face light up whenever he brings you flowers his heart starts to race.

Toji was surprised when you grabbed his hand out of no where when you two were just walking in the park.

He’s not the romantic type be he’d learn for you.

The definition of if he wanted to he would 😭

To him it was like the world went silent whenever he was around you, he could finally breath.

He has the cutest smile, you wish you saw it more, it made your heart flutter.

He is clingy in private

Super cuddly

He falls first

He’s the big spoon but he will let you be the big spoon when you ask.

Showed affection by rubbing his thumb on either the palms of your hands or the backs of them instead of holding your hand in public

You didn’t even know you two were official till you two ran into someone he knew and he introduced you as his girlfriend. “What is it y/n. You’ve been staring at me longer than you usually do” he walked tucking his hands in his pockets. “You said I’m your girlfriend. I thought you didn’t want anything serious” he couldn’t stop laughing the scar on his lip captivating you. How strange it was for his face to go from super serious to a soft expression depending on what you said. His laughing stopped as he got closer to you “you’re cute” he said rubbing his thumb on your cheek “I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you y/n”

His lips are soft, you’d think with his appearance they wouldn’t be but they were.

His hands were soft too as he pulls you in deeper into the kiss.

When you’d pull away from a kiss his hands would remain on your lower back not letting you get away from him “don’t leave yet”

He’s sneaky, you haven’t noticed him when he is keeping an eye on you. He wished you’d observe your surroundings more.

Toji is a jealous man, he can’t stand when he sees you talking to male customers. It makes his eye twitch because that’s how he met you and got you in his hands.

He starts to become more affectionate and romantic in public to show everyone you belong to him.

He disappeared for two weeks without a word and when he popped up again he was bruised and bloody at your door step. He still refused to tell you what happened and said it was work related. You nursed him back to health and he told you he loved you first. You would’ve pounced him right then and there but he was injured.

He feels empty when you aren’t around.

He surprised you with a really fancy restaurant date that ended up being super expensive. He laughed at your facial expression when he paid in cash and left a hefty tip. He told you on the way back to your place that part of the money came from him not paying for his cookie every time he went to the cafe and he smirked at your face when you reacted “so I paid for your cookies for nothing” you said crossing your arms and fake pouting. “It was all in good fun sweetheart, you took care of me and now I’ll take care of you” he said, his hand rubbing the back of your palm.

When you invited him over to spend the night for the first time he couldn’t hide his smile. Which made you blush.

He takes things slow with you, he doesn’t want to scare you away.

Smut

To say he was touch starved was an understatement. When was the last time he slept around? When he first walked into that cafe of yours seeing you for the first time.

He’ll never admit it but he would masturbate to just imaging what you’d like beneath him

He lost his damn mind when you sent him a teaser pic of your ass glad he was quick to screenshot and made a hidden folder on his phone for it.

His praises drove you insane

Will take it easy on you the first time but after that he won’t. The first time was sweet and loving. His lips felt like they were burning your skin with each kiss he left behind trailing down your body cherishing every part of you and only leaving behind hickeys where no one else could see. The first time he learned a lot of valuable things about you and you learned some things about him too. He was glad to know you were on the pill because he would be filling you up.

Always starts off with kissing you endearingly but it turns hot and heavy

Veiny hands, veiny dick 💦

Loves to finger you, he always chuckles at the way your grab his big hand trying to yank him away when your about to cum getting overstimulated from his thumb rubbing hard circles in your clit.

Vocal in bed, huge on dirty talk.

Loves calling you princess and baby girl when dicking you down

Has a daddy kink

Breeding kink not right away but the more he fucks you the more the idea of getting you pregnant lingers in his head but he’s glad your still on the pill he still wants to just be alone with you.

His goal is make you cum as many times as possible before he gets to finish either inside of you or on your stomach

He’s a thigh guy, loves being between them and begs you to squeeze them on his head

He get pussy drunk quick losing all sight of whatever else was planned for the day or night only wanting to between your legs

Loves giving head like I said he loves your thighs so being between them this way is perfect. He loves when your cumming on his tongue that your thighs clench around him

He’s a boob guy too so expect him to be grabbing them whenever you two are alone and after he’s asked for permission. Likes sucking on your nipples and pinching them to hear you moan his name.

His anthem is a.d.i.d.a.s from Korn

You appreciate his strength because one of your now favorite positions is being hoisted up in his arms while he’s standing up and slamming your body down on massive cock

Praises in your ear about how your body is made for him

He gets hard whenever you sit on his lap and he knows you purposely shift around on top of him to make him grunt but as soon as he does you stop and act like you didn’t do anything.

Gets extremely turned on when you suck and bite on his neck “y/n you know what your doing don’t you? He says before pinning you down on the mattress.

Enjoys watching you struggle to ride him from his size at first but enjoys even more now that you’ve gotten confident doing it and taking charge not needing his help to guide your hips.

Loves pushing your face into the pillows when you get too loud, he doesn’t want anyone else to hear your moans

Teasing is his thing when your being super needy for him, going slow with everything he does till you pull his hair and tell him to go faster

His favorite sex position definitely is a mating press

Lazy sex? Having you lay on your side and him behind you hunched over whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Least favorite position… he doesn’t have one he likes to have you every way possible

He’s fucked you everywhere in your place and in his. His favorite location had to be the kitchen.

Car sex? He against doesn’t like the idea of someone seeing you like that so if your not being patient he pulls over somewhere really dark and secluded.

He thinks shower sex is great because it’s an easy clean up for both of you

You asked him to cum on your face once and he about exploded and gladly did was you asked for and snapped a pic before wiping you clean.

Toji is a moaner and grunter in bed

He implements safe words because the sex is only getting rougher with you asking him to choke you as you develop your own kinks

“F-fuck” in his voice is such a turn on

After sex he cuddles you close after you go to the bathroom to clean up. He always sleeps soundly when your naked beside him

Authors note: I know it isn’t heavy on the smut but Toji Thursday I plan on doing scenarios around these head canons and your suggestions so leave them below or use my ask box!

Want to be apart of Toji Thursday taglist comment below 💖

Masterlist | Roomate Toji |

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robthegoodfellow · 8 months

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Let's Hear It for the Boy

Praise Kink for Day 3 of @harringrovekinktober

(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a good boy, nsfw)

Steve felt like a real asshole when Robin asked out of the blue one day, maybe a month after he and Billy became roommates, if Billy was paying part of his rent in labor. Shave some off if he agreed to be your housekeeper? And, at Steve’s incredulous bafflement, had clarified: Every time I’m over he’s cooking or doing laundry or—cleaning shit! To his horror, a highlight reel started up in his mind, a montage of Billy doing all those chores and more, and worse, Steve realized he’d contributed approximately nothing to the daily maintenance of their shared living space. Steve! Robin had scolded, correctly interpreting his guilty grimace.

So he’d promised to talk to Billy about it—assure him that keeping the place sparkling was in no way required or expected or—or if that was just how he preferred to live, then he’d promise to do his fair share from now on. Only, bringing it up over pizza and beer, a basketball game on TV, had produced an unexpected reaction. Billy… kinda… froze? Went bug-eyed, like Steve had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked embarrassed.

“Man, it’s fine,” Steve said, tripping over himself to explain—put him at ease. “I really don’t care either way. I just wanted to check and make sure you knew I wasn’t gonna, like—kick you out if you let up on the Cinderella routine.”

Billy flushed more, beet red, and Steve resisted smacking himself in the face. He was fucking this up so bad.

“I mean—”

“I don’t mind,” Billy mumbled, avoiding Steve’s eye as he reached for his beer. “I like it.”

“Okay,” Steve said, over the top encouraging. “Great. Well, I’ll at least pitch in more—”

“You don’t have to do that.” Billy’s throat worked, gulping, plush lips pursed on the can. Steve blinked, shook his head, tuned back in to catch the muttered aside, blue gaze locked on the Michelob commercial. “It’s all good. Nothing has to change.”

Why the hell was he being so weird about this? Did he think Steve couldn’t chip in? Pull his own weight?

“Just because I grew up with a nanny doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do stuff. Vacuum and dishes and—”

Billy grunted, annoyed, throwing his shoulders back to wedge himself into the couch, a mulish slouch. “Just drop it, will ya? I like things how they are, so what’s the fucking problem?”

“All right, jeez,” Steve cried, holding up his hands. “Touchy.”

They were quiet, both ticked, but the kind that would drain away by halftime. Except—he felt shitty just leaving it like this, having semi-acknowledged that Billy was acting like his maid.

“Is there anything I can do?” Steve asked, his tone deliberately mild, not looking away from the freethrow swishing on screen. “That you don’t like?”

No explosion—good sign. After a long, loaded pause, Billy sighed. “Take out the trash.”

“Got it,” Steve said. And let it go.

But from then on, he kept watch, determined to figure out the source of the weirdness. Almost positive it wasn’t a control freak thing or a neat freak thing—it wasn’t like the apartment was pristine. It was more that… everyday, Billy had done something obvious enough that Steve commented on it—always had. Nothing major, just Oh, hey—you got that stain out of the carpet or Holy shit, it smells so good—what is that? or How’d you unclog that drain? Wasn’t like he thanked Billy, though he probably should have been—although maybe Billy didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it?—but he’d always notice and say something admiring because Billy was good at stuff. Good at so much stuff.

He started taking out the trash, and Billy never let on that he noticed, but Steve thought he did. And he kept up the compliments whenever Billy did something nice, since that hadn’t been explicitly forbidden. But since he was paying more attention now, he—noticed some things. Only when he was pretending to look elsewhere, monitoring Billy in his periphery or in the reflection of the window or decorative mirrors his mom had foisted on him. He noticed that, those times, Billy sort of… ducked his head, hiding a grin that bordered on… bashful? And his shoulders bowed a bit, like he was—curling in on himself. Like—in delight?

Like—he secretly really liked it? When Steve noticed he’d done something nice? When Steve said something nice about it?

So… he decided to test it. Nothing too overbearing or obvious, just—instead of merely noticing, he was sure to compliment. Because why not, if Billy liked it and still wouldn’t let Steve lift a finger except on garbage day?

Good became his go-to. This tastes so good. That looks so good. Good, good, good.

Which is when it clicked for him—that Billy didn’t do chores and stuff because he liked the chores. But because… he liked Steve’s reaction?

And—that would explain his weirdness. Why he didn’t want to talk about it. Like maybe he was worried Steve would think Billy liked being his bitch or something—Steve winced, anticipating the whack from the Robin who lived in his head—not that Steve thought of him that way.

…Though if he didn’t mind Steve thinking of him that way—or even liked it, then…

Well, Steve didn’t—dislike that. Like the general concept. Held a certain—

Anyway, in the interest of further—ah, testing, Steve mentioned, casually, on his way to work one morning, “I’ve been craving that pasta salad you made.”

Billy cut him a glance over his coffee where he was hunched at the kitchen table. Grunted, and Steve quirked a grin, tossed him a salute goodbye. It wasn’t even a lie—the pasta thing—he’d been salivating at the memory. This version with Italian dressing instead of mayo, with olives and stuff.

Lo, late that afternoon, when he got back, there was a big Tupperware of it in the fridge. Billy wandered in halfway through his second helping. They paused, wide-eyed at the sudden charge buzzing in the air, and Steve’s stomach clenched.

“It’s—good,” he managed, hands suddenly clammy around his fork and bowl. Billy was staring at Steve’s hands, held awkwardly aloft where he leaned on the counter. The stare was strangely heavy—hooded lids. Steve cleared his throat. “You—did good.”

Billy’s cheeks were as flushed as that day on the couch, watching basketball, insisting he liked—

Abruptly aware his boner was starting to tent his shorts, Steve turned to face the counter, ducking to shovel more pasta in his idiot mouth. Heard Billy go to the cabinet, fetch a glass. Fill it. Walk back out.

Heaving an unwinding breath, Steve set down the bowl, let his elbows bear the weight of this latest sexual awakening.

So that was a thing, apparently—and for Billy, too, potentially. Probably. Because, without quite meaning to, they fell into this little routine where, before Steve left for work, he’d pause, and Billy would look up from his coffee, and Steve would mention something—a rental movie he wanted to see, or a sale at the liquor store, or if Billy would mind throwing Steve’s whites in with his so he’d have a shirt to wear to this meeting later in the week…

And the VHS would be waiting on the counter. And a six-pack would be waiting in the fridge. And his shirt would be washed and ironed and waiting in his closet. And everytime Billy would be lingering nearby, not quite meeting his eyes, and Steve’s pulse would pound even though technically there was nothing sexy about an ironed shirt, and Steve would say Good. You did good.

Billy would sometimes clench his fist, when Steve said it. Or squirm in his seat a bit. Or swallow, throat bobbing. Color rising. And the sight hit Steve like a load of bricks. A load of bricks to the head.

It was the weirdest game of gay chicken—scrambling to find mundane tasks for Billy to complete for the prize of a pat on the back, when all Steve wanted, and he bet Billy felt similarly, was to order Billy to his knees.

He thought about it whenever they were on the couch watching TV, whenever they were eating in the kitchen or drinking on the balcony or passing each other outside the bathroom in the morning.

So he tested further. Came home and went to see if Billy had done it—and there he was, standing by Steve’s bed. The neatly made bed.

Steve’s heart was rabbiting out of his chest, too on the fritz to form words, and his feet weren’t much better, charting a crooked, clumsy course until they were toe to toe, Billy’s gaze downcast, his lips parted, breaths shallow.

He didn’t know whether it’d sound stupid if he said it out loud, what he’d been wanting to say for days—whether Billy wanted to hear, or would consider it a step too far.

They’d come this far, though. Steve wet his lips, took a calming breath, and Billy seemed to brace for it. “Good,” Steve said, and it came out breathy. “Good boy.”

Billy curled—did that thing where he ducked, hunching around something invisible—and the sound punched out of him, this pained gasp. Steve’s hands moved on their own, reaching to cradle Billy’s head, step close to whisper in his ear, his brow at Steve’s shoulder: “Good? Is this good?” Felt more than saw him nodding. “You want to be good for me?”

“Fuck,” Billy whispered—bit wheezing. Wet. “Fuck.”

“What do you want?” Steve asked, fumbling at his heated neck. “What do you—?”

“Be good.” It was mumbled, cringing. “Wanna be good.” A shaky inhale. “Make you feel good.”

Steve’s blood was roaring everywhere but his brain—would’ve fallen over if he weren’t clutching Billy. “Want that, too.”

He heard a thready laugh, and Billy straightened, leaning back into his hold, face tipped, lidded gaze on Steve’s chin. “So?”

So what’ll it be?

Buying himself time to gather his wits, some composure lest he combust, Steve tilted his head, assessing. Adjusting his hold, ran a thumb across Billy’s lower lip, firm enough to pull at the skin. “Want this.” Another swipe, exposing teeth, his curving tongue. “Make me feel good with this.”

A tug at his belt, and Billy was nodding, making short work of the button and zip—movements quick and precise. He sank, kneeling at Steve’s feet, tugging the pants to hang at midthigh, and finally looked up.

Steve swept blond curls off his forehead. “Like you like this.”

Billy stared, eyes gleaming. Seemed to be—waiting.

“So good like this,” Steve corrected. “Now show me how good.”

Swaying, Billy buried his face in Steve’s briefs, nosing him through straining cotton, and huffed hot air at the crown. Steve compulsively gripped fistfuls of hair, still using Billy’s ears as handlebars, and resolved not to let go—to let Billy show him.

And, boy, did he. Laved at his dick until the fabric was soaked, the white gone translucent—white gone flushed pink, twitching under kitten licks—and Steve was on the verge of begging when a pull at his waistband freed his cock, bobbing only a sec before swallowed in Billy’s grip, fed into his greedy mouth.

Steve’s entire vocabulary had been reduced to one word, babbled at the ceiling behind closed lids: good, good, good, only sometimes it came out guh, guh, guh. One hand cupped the back of Billy’s head, and it was when his hips were on a steady grinding roll that he realized he’d caged Billy against him, locked the gulping heat around his cock as he plugged toward the peak.

Billy wasn’t struggling, though—his fingers biting into the meat of Steve’s ass, moaning so deep in his chest that Steve felt it more than heard it.

Steve grappled for a new word—close, close—but Billy didn’t stop, didn’t let up a second, and when Steve grunted his release, the throat worked around him still.

The moment Billy pulled off, lungs heaving, face ruby red and shining, Steve flopped to his knees, blindly reached for Billy, draping loose arms around his neck, his ribs, waiting for his own breaths to slow.

“Was it,” Billy asked, tight. “Was it—?”

“Good,” Steve said, huffing a laugh, coasting hands across the bellows of his back. “So good—you’re so good. Always so good for me.”

Billy burrowed his face into Steve’s throat, his collarbone, looping him in an uncertain hug. He was hard, pressed against where Steve’s clothes gaped open. Working a hand between them, Steve rubbed his palm along rigid heat.

“What do you want?” he asked, nuzzling the nest of blond. “Since you been so good?”

A shudder ran up the sloping spine. Steve smoothed his free hand down to Billy’s waist and back up, waiting.

“I—cleaned the shower,” Billy said, halting. “I could—show you, and—?”

Steve kissed his temple, quick, so helplessly fond. Overwhelmed.

“Good boy wants a wash?” Steve suggested, and tightened his arms when Billy tried to do his pillbug thing. “Be my good boy,” he said, hushed, nosing Billy’s flushed ear. “You want to?”

And Billy curled again, only this time around him. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

Now with added sequel: Let's Give the Boy a Hand

#harringrove #harringrovekinktober2k23 #roommates in love #roommates in ill-defined dom subby dynamic #billy wants the praise #and the dick #steve gives it

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askbeetcookie · 8 months

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Beet do you have any advice on how to survive in the wild forest for more than 3 years

Or maybe an advice on how to become a professional chef like you?

#askbeetcookie #beet cookie #beet cookie run #cookie run #cookie run ask blog #crob

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ask-timeless-love · 1 year

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Uh-Oh, What Pipe bomb

Shshsh! Secret pipe bomb, hidden in Croissant Cookie’s sandwich!

#timeless answers #notes from beet: dont tell croissant!#timekeeper cookie #cookie run #ask blog

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snailmail444 · 6 months

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Silent Night

NSFW ⭐️ 18+ ⭐️ MDNI

It’s your first winter star with Sam’s family! Everything is going great, except for the fact that you two can’t get a moment of privacy.

For @beet-roots Merry Kinkmas

AO3 Link

“Okay now let’s do Sammy’s girlfriend’s present!” Vincent squirms in your lap with excitement, looking upside down at you. His big blue eyes sparkle with adoration, and you think he takes after his brother.

Sam beside you looks playfully dejected. He pushes out his lip in a pout, shoving his hand into Vincent’s hair and down his face.

“Bro, stop,” he whines, and you think maybe his jealousy isn’t all for show, “you’re rizzing her up too much! She’s gonna leave me for you, dude!”

Sam’s playing, but you know he is at least a little perturbed because Vince can sit in your lap and he can’t. It’s a wonder he’s not climbing the walls right now, all things considered.

With deadly efficiency you use one hand to tickle his ribs, and Sam cringes back in a cry of surrender.

Kent rolls his eyes and coughs to hide a laugh while Jodi giggles. She gives you a sweet smile as she passes over a silver wrapped box. It says ‘from all of us’ in swooping calligraphy, and you know that means it’s from Jodi.

“You wanna unwrap it bud?” You ask, and Sam’s hand twitches out to the package before he realizes you were talking to Vince. Another pout, and you smirk at him while Vince annihilates the beautiful wrapping job Jodi did.

Dutifully, he passes back the unassuming cardboard box and crawls off your lap so you can open it properly.

You pull the top away and don’t delay in pushing back the tissue and removing the deep red nightgown, holding it up to the light to see better.

“I know it’s not very hip,” Jodi says, her voice quiet and maybe a little insecure, “but I—uh, we—just couldn’t leave it. Sammy sent those gorgeous pictures of you and I kept thinking how lovely you would look in it.”

It is pretty, albeit more conservative than you would ever pick for yourself. The gown is ankle length, with sleeves that hit the wrist. Lace and gold beading trim the edges, and you think Jodi has good taste.

You can feel Sam’s eyes heavy on you, on the nightgown, and you have to bite back a grin. He’s so desperate for you at this point, you know exactly where his brain is. Poor baby hasn’t gone over a day without sex since you two got together about four months ago, and with prepping and visiting it’s been a week since he had his hands on you.

“It’s perfect Jodi, thank you,” you say, winking at her conspiratorially before saying, “all of you have excellent fashion sense.”

In a show of good faith you change into it after dinner. Jodi was right—the color complements your complexion perfectly. And while it’s long, and shows no skin, it clings to your curves and drapes in such a way that you still look shapely. You look sexy in a prudish sort of way.

You’re not the only one that seems to think so. The moment you emerge from the bedroom to show Jodi the final product, Sam’s back to staring at you hard. As Jodi ooh’s and ah’s over you with the affection only a mother has, and Vincent stares with big round eyes and tells you you’re beautiful with a nervous little blush, Sam begins to fidget.

A glance at him and you think he might drag you out to his truck for some privacy and rail you in the passenger seat. Your cunt pulses with excitement. Vincent is going to be too distracted with his toys to bother you, and Jodi and Kent are going to take the Mullner’s Christmas cookies, so you’ll have time for a quickie if all goes well.

“And what about you, Sammy, don’t you think that—“ there’s a knock on the door, startling Jodi into silence. She presses a hand against her chest. “Goodness, now who could that be so late?”

Jodi wanders off towards the door and Sam circles in on you like a predator, fingers skimming the fabric where it hits your waist. He leans in close, and his voice is raspy in your ear. “I like this,” he says, giving it a small, affectionate tug, and you know that tone. That’s the tone he uses when he’s going to fuck you like an animal. A shiver of anticipatory arousal claws its way down your spine, and you smile.

“I can't say I approve of you coming all the way out here in the cold so late, but you know I’m always happy to see you Sebastian,” Jodi giggles, opening the door wider and letting in a pink cheeked, crookedly grinning Sebastian. He’s got a small present wrapped in his hands, and his eyes are positively glittering as he stares up at Sam’s mom.

“You know I can’t go a Winter Star without seeing you, Miss Jodi,” he says, savoring the words Miss Jodi. Sam retracts from your space while Jodi giggles and blushes, and he throws up his hands with a groan.

“Dude stop flirting with my mom,” he whines, and Sebastian laughs once before shaking his head and giving Jodi a sweet smile.

“I’m not flirting Sammy, I’m being polite. You should try it once in a while,” he says, and he winks before coming up to you and Sam.

“Why are you here?” Irritation drips off his every word, and you know Sam is properly annoyed. Pent up, desperate, and cockblocked by his best friend who’s also hitting on his mom.

Bad day for Samson.

“Other than I wanted to give you your present? I needed a break from the ‘festivities,’” he makes air quotes around festivities, and you can feel Sam unwind in resignation. “Come with me for a walk?”

“What’s the magic word?” Sam’s already stepping towards the door to his room, presumably to get dressed for the outside, and you feel a tug of disappointment. Maybe it’s not Sam getting cockblocked.

“I’ll say please if it makes you happy Samson.”

Your face must be doing something by the time Sam’s dressed and ready for the cold, because Sebastian frowns apologetically and Sam twists his mouth. Once Jodi finishes fussing over her boys and departs with Kent, Sam approaches with a sheepish smile.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and you stare at him hard in a way that hopes to convey your emotions.

“You better,” You respond, and maybe it’s a little more irritable than you meant for it to be because Sam looks like a kicked puppy as he follows Sebastian out the door. You’d feel worse if you weren’t babysitting Vincent alone on Winter Star when you could be getting railed.

It doesn’t take long for Jodi and Kent to get back—an hour said and done—and everyone readies for bed pretty immediately, too exhausted from the fact that Vince woke everybody at the godless hour of five am for presents. Sam still isn’t back by the time you crawl into his bed, and you glare at the air mattress where he should be and hope he can feel the phantom pain wherever he is.

You’re drifting off when a swoop of cold air chills you to the bone. There’s a light commotion, and you hear Sam go “fucking shit ass,” before you fully process that he’s stumbling in the window. You sit back, burrowing into his blankets as he regains his footing.

“Later Seb,” he calls outside with a wave, and you wave too, tight and irritable.

“See you Sammy. If you need me I’ll be in the master bedroom,” Sebastian calls back, and you hear his footsteps recede along with maniacal laughter, a faint call of bye to you billowing in the wind as an afterthought.

“Remind me to kick his ass,” Sam looks at you once he snaps the windowpane shut with a big grin, his cheeks pink and snow dusting his eyelashes. It makes you angry how good he looks right now, how disgustingly cute and charming.

“Sure,” you cross your arms and pout, averting your gaze as Sam comes up and kneels by the side of the bed.

“Baby please, I’m sorry,” he reaches for your hand, and when you don’t give it he settles for your gripping the nightgown, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that it’s right at the apex of your thigh, “what was I supposed to do? Say no to Seb in front of everybody?”

“Yes.”

He buries his face in the sheets beside you and you finally spare him a glance. He senses it and looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster, and you feel yourself melting under his gaze.

“Please, let me make it up to you,” he says, and there’s a little whine in his voice. Desperation, maybe. “I need you so bad, you look so hot right now, please.”

The chill of the room mingles with the sensation of watching Sam beg on his knees and makes your nipples hard, and you decide to go on with it for a minute. “It’s just a shame. I’m not even wearing any underwear, Sammy, because I was so excited to finally get a minute alone with you.”

He whines, shifts, and you can see the excited bulge growing in his pants.

“Too bad everybody’s home now so we can’t do anything. I’m really horny too.”

“No we can, please,” he grabs your hand now, chilly fingers insistent on yours, “we just have to be quiet. Everybody’s asleep. Come on, please?”

You almost break right now, but you hold out. If you can get him that much more worked up, it’ll be worth your while. “I dunno if you’d be able to keep it down Sammy. For your Winter Star present I was gonna let you fuck me without a condom—you know, an unwrapped gift kinda thing.”

It’s something you’ve been saving specifically for a moment like this. Truthfully you know Sam’s clean and you have reliable birth control, and would have let him hit raw months ago, but making him twitch with anticipation has been more fun than anything else.

And oh, it’s worth it to watch the way his eyes widen and his face slackens. He sits up that much taller, and you’re almost surprised he doesn’t clasp his hands together and shake them.

“Baby, I promise I’ll be good. I need you so bad. I really want my present, I’ll do anything.”

You gesture for him to stand, and he does because he’s a puppet on strings, and you arch your eyebrow at him. “You can start by putting your money where your mouth is. Sit at the foot of the bed for me and prove you can stay quiet by touching yourself.”

Sam’s clothes shlump to the floor unceremoniously as he peels off his layers, and you feel a pang of guilt because he’s shivering and flushed since he’s not warm yet. In a show of good faith, you kick the blanket towards him and scoot until you’re rested on the headboard.

It’s alright, you reason, because he won’t be left alone for long.

Sam wraps the blanket around his shoulders, and you watch with enthusiasm as he shifts. His cock is hard and flushed, his nipples pink and pert from the cold, and he’s wearing that shy expression he always has before he truly gets into it. You might be drooling.

It’s hard to tell if he’s teasing you or if he’s warming himself up when he runs his hand down his chest and across his stomach painfully slow. Your breath catches in your throat when he finally wraps a hand around his cock, deliberate as he spreads a bead of precome from his tip down with his thumb.

His teeth sink into his lip on the first stroke, cheeks darkening while his eyebrows scrunch inwards. He watches you watch him, and one corner of his mouth ticks upwards while he spreads his knees that much more and arches his back.

Stage fright gone, Sam’s putting on a show now, and god do you ever watch. You lose yourself in it—in the way his abs tighten and his breath puffs out intermittently like he might’ve moaned in another situation. His head falls back on his shoulders, eyes screwed shut, until finally he tightens his hand around the base of his cock and looks at you with pure desperation.

“Please,” his voice is hoarse when he whispers, and he’s squirming. For just a second you think you should tell him no, keep going, because you’re so into watching him you want to see his come paint his beautiful stomach. But then he’s blinking at you, big blue eyes pleading. “Baby?” His voice cracks when he prods for a response, and you decide he should be put out of his misery.

“Remember to be qui—“ Sam cuts you off in a bruising kiss. He doesn’t waste a second, licking into your mouth while he fumbles between your legs, rucking up the nightgown in the process.

“Quiet,” he pants while he rips the hem up past your breasts, leaving you suddenly cold and exposed, save the places where his fingers trail blazing paths towards your cunt. “Quiet, uh huh, I’ll be so—quiet—“ he nods into your skin, latching his mouth to your neck and sucking while he slips a finger into your eager cunt.

Sam’s fingers are expert, long and dexterous and callused from years of playing the guitar, and you’re the one struggling not to make any noise now while he fingers you open for him. Every glance of his fingers has your thighs twitching and you biting back little wanton moans.

“Shit, I can’t,” Sam withdraws his fingers after barely a minute, still managing a throaty murmur, “I’m so sorry, fuck, I just can’t wait. You’re so goddamn wet.”

And then he’s lining himself up and thrusting into you slowly. Inching in while he huffs air through his clenched teeth. You can tell he’s really trying to hold himself back, to be gentle, but then his forehead drops to your shoulder and he looses a high whine when his hips snap all the way forward seemingly against his volition.

You freeze, heart hammering in your chest as you hold him still and listen for any sounds that somebody in the house has woken up. Sam’s doing his best, but he’s gyrating against your cunt frivolously and begging against your chest.

“Just couldn’t help it, I’m sorry. Sorry, please baby,” he’s much quieter in his whisper now, “you just felt better— ah —than I expected—please let me move, I’ll be good I swear.”

After another moment of nothing, you finally relax your grip, and Sam wastes no time, fucking into you so hard and fast your eyes roll back in your head.

“Thank you baby— nngh —thank you,” the words are spoken against your breasts as he presses his mouth to them, sucking and nipping the skin while he humps you like an animal in heat. “Best Winter Star gift ever, swear. Thank you, oh God.”

You’re actually surprised when his thumb finds its way to your clit. Sam’s one track minded on his best days, and you would’ve thought he’d be too overwhelmed to even think of it.

“Wanna— hah —feel you come. Can you come on my cock baby?”

You go to say yes, you’re right there, and a too loud moan slips from your chest instead when he slams right into your g-spot. Sam’s free hand closes over your mouth, eyes wide and hips stuttering as he tries and fails to still to a stop.

He either doesn’t give a fuck or can’t bring himself to slow down anymore, because a moment later he’s back to absolutely railing you, making little tiny grunting whines as he does his best to keep himself quiet. “Gonna come,” he manages, strained, and that’s what finishes you.

You ride wave after wave of delicious white heat as Sam stuffs you with his come, shaking and muffling himself against your skin. He doesn’t stop thrusting, greedy and prolonging your mutual pleasure as long as he can before he collapses onto you, limp.

When you finally get your bearings back you take stock of the situation: Sam draped over you, cock still inside, nightgown around your armpits, bruises beginning to purple in the places where Sam used you as his silencer. A ripple of perverse arousal trickles through your overstimulated body at the sheer wrongness of it all, and you twitch.

That’s enough to rouse Sam, who kisses your cheek and pulls out of you, lovingly tucking the nightgown back down to your ankles and pulling up the blanket before snuggling into your side.

When you two wake, you’re horrified to find come staining the inside of the nice garment. Sam sees it over your shoulder while you’re changing and packing, and he tugs you close to him, purring into your ear, “I want you to wear that again when we get home tonight. I’m not finished ruining it.”

#stardew valley #sdv #writing #stardew valley fanfic #sdv fanfic #sdv headcanons #sdv sebastian #sdv sam #stardew sebastian #stardew sam #sdv writing #n.sfw //#mdni

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rggie · 2 years

Text

second-years as school crushes

characters: azul, ruggie, riddle, silver

summary: as title states, the boys as school/college crushes… inspired by some real crushes i’ve had

cw: gn!reader, sfw, fluff, unedited. modern!au. 1k+ words

azul ashengrotto

the academic rival. he always had to have the higher grade, even if it was by a single percent. you got 98% on your last exam? you can’t celebrate, because azul got 100%

your teachers are always poking fun at your academic rivalry. they ship you. “stop flirting!” “we aren’t sir, this is simply a heated argument between intellectuals!!!!”

the whole class know about it too. the incessant comments after either of you raise a hand, the shared looks across the classroom...everyone rolls their eyes when you’re against each other in a debate because it’s likely the lesson will go overtime.

it irritates you how you cannot best him in anything, and how he still flashes you that same annoyingly charming smile each time you clash. you’re just waiting for the moment where you finally outclass him… and you do. except it doesn’t feel as rewarding you hoped it would feel.

you’re both in different gym / p.e classes, but your teachers decide it’d be a fun activity to get both groups together for a game of cricket.

strangely, azul was quiet. he didn’t greet with you a snide remark. he didn’t spare you a single glance. instead, he stayed huddled in the corner of the field, scratching at his arm anxiously. you can’t help but wonder what’s wrong. not that you’re worrying about him

after a failed attempt of bargaining with a stubborn teammate, azul had to bat. you were pitching, so you were against each other as usual.

you’ve never seen someone fail at hitting so badly. everyone is laughing and the gymbros are yelling at him to run, so he does, but it’s honestly more like stumbling, and oh. he’s running in the wrong direction. towards you.

his cheeks are flushed beet red (due to embarrassment or breathlessness, you didn’t know) he doesn’t ever meet your eyes properly again. he stops teasing you, too.

is it wrong that you miss it?

ruggie bucchi

food hogger. this guy always, without fail has some sort of food on him. you see him in the morning? toast in his mouth. midday? two donuts. even in class, he’s snacking, not even trying to hide how obvious it is with the loud smack of his lips and happy hums right in your ear.

it’s worse because he sits right next to you, and he doesn’t even offer to share. this boy is greedy, teasing you and taunting you by waving a chocolate bar in your face only to open it and plop it into his own mouth with a cackle.

at lunchtime, you’ll see him skipping the line using the excuse that he’s friends with some popular third-year. you’ll be seconds away from getting the last cookie and all of a sudden ruggie swoops in, claiming that this friend of his wants it. (if that was true, why did you see him eating it minutes later?)

as annoying as he is though, sometimes—and only sometimes!—he’s alright. when there’s days you’re feeling down, or when you don’t do well on a test, you’ll find a snack in your seat. the same treat you know he buys. it’s a silent way of comforting you without outwardly saying it. he likes you because you don’t snitch on him, and you like him because he’s funny, despite his loud chewing.

sadly, he’s just too busy for anything real to develop. you don’t know what he does in his free time, but he’s always running around. you suppose it’s none of your business, and before you can ask anyway, you’re assigned a new seat-mate.

riddle rosehearts

goodie-two-shoes. you’ve never seen someone who’s as much as a stickler for the rules as he is.

now you’re not necessarily a bad student, but this guy makes you feel as though you are. if you’re chewing gum in class, beware. don’t let riddle catch you otherwise you’re taking a trip to the trash can before he can raise his hand and tell on you.

he’s not only a snitch, but also thinks he’s right all the time. you feel a headache coming on with all his yammering.

he reminds the teachers about homework, even when he knows you haven’t done it. and then blames it on your incapability to manage time well.

the one time he forgets his homework, you almost want to tell on him, but he looks so pitiful you can’t. he’s on the verge of tears, talking about ‘handing himself in’ as though he were a criminal. you sigh and tell him he can copy.

at first, he refuses, but as the day drawls on he finds you at lunch and sits next to you for your answers. everyone is surprised at his actions, and he seems surprised at himself too, a constant pink tint all over his cheeks. you have to actually teach him how to copy properly: “no, don’t copy this word for word. and yes, i promise this is correct.”

you can tell how guilty he feels and reassure him that it seriously isn’t the end of the world. the next morning, you find your favourite drink on your table. his behaviour becomes more mellow with you after that. he scolds you lightly, tutting quietly when having to fix your collar. he’s almost sweet—

but he’s still a snitch.

silver

you’re certain he could sleep anywhere.

the first time you met, he was in a deep slumber, lightly snoring with his head planted in a study guide. afraid he’d get caught, you start placing a book in front of him to cover the fact he’s sleeping from the teacher. it ends up becoming part of your routine.

you’re not sure he even notices you’ve been doing it, but you don’t mind. silver is super sweet, always collecting worksheets for you and putting it on your desk, saving you the trip, or offering you snacks in class when you’re hungry. he smells of comforter and fresh laundry—honestly, his presence alone makes you feel lethargic yourself.

you muster up enough courage up to ask if he’s getting enough sleep. you’d be more than happy to help him out, recommending coffee or melatonin gummies, but he tells you it’s just something he’s always dealt with, that frustratingly will not go away.

you now try to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep in class, conversing with him more or poking him gently with your pen. for that he’s grateful, being sure to return the gesture when you’re tired. (but if you’re super exhausted, he’ll let you sleep, making sure you’re as comfortable as you can be.)

some mornings, he even buys you a warm drink alongside his coffee… well, it wouldn’t be for you if silver had remembered to give it to the person he had intended it for, the name malleus draconia scrawled across the cup, printed very clearly.

you have no idea who malleus draconia is, but you hope he doesn’t mind you stealing his latte & his silver-haired friend for a while.

#silver x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #silver twst #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst fic #twst hcs #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #🐾・/ rggie twst

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