pluto

summary: moving into a new town sucks, but at least there's an arcade by your neighborhood—and fortunately enough, a moody employee named tomura who's certainly caught your eye!

wc: 1.2k (this is a baby oneshot a babyyy)

moving absolutely sucks.

it's an indisputable fact, and no one could possibly shake the notion from you no matter how hard they tried. your room is littered with packed boxes and a barren bed frame, and although the house you're moving into is, in simple terms, nice, you're not happy

why was it so easy for your parents to pack up and leave all your friends and neighbors so easily? you've been sulking the entire ride over to your new abode, sulking while dragging your bags inside and sulking while inspecting every corner of the house—finally, you throw on a loose pair of jeans and a hoodie, stuffing your feet into your sneakers and leaving the house with your ear buds plugged in. you begin your trek with no certain destination in mind, kicking a small rock as you walk along the sidewalk

the neighborhood is nice, too. there's other people walking around outside, the gentle breeze sending blazing orange-red leaves skittering across the road, and you take a moment to at least appreciate the changing leaves and the beauty that came with fall

you're not sure how long it was till you came upon the strip mall. there were about a dozen different stores lined up, all unique from one another—a cosmetics store, a clothing one, a paper one, and... an arcade. that is the one to catch your eye, and your feet drift naturally towards its entrance. the neon sign outside flashes the word open!, and you push open the door with your shoulder before stepping inside leisurely

despite the front of the arcade looking small, you have to admit it's much larger on the inside. there's a bunch of kids and teenagers moving around, playing games and holding tickets and having fun. you turn up the volume on your phone, sticking a hand into your jean's pocket and feeling for the 20 you tucked into there earlier

there's a machine where you can buy a play card stationed a little ways away from you. it spits out a neon pink card with about a hundred points on it, and you begin searching for something to play before you spot a claw machine

almost immediately, your eyes narrow. you've always had awful luck with claw machines, but they were just so fun. you hesitate for a moment, shifting the play card in your hand as you contemplate what you should do before you groan quietly, unable to resist the cute hello kitty plush residing inside the machine

you crack your knuckles, give yourself a mental pep talk, roll your shoulders and press your forehead against the glass to get the most opitmal view of your prize—but, as the claw moves down, it misses the plush and instead grabs weakly at the tag of it, rising empty and causing you to swear underneath your breath

seven futile tries later, you're about one minor inconvenience away from imploding. the hello kitty plush is still inside, staring back with round eyes, and you truly do think today might be the worst day of your life.

you tug out your earbuds and wallow in defeat for a minute before you sense someone behind you. instinctively, you move out of the way and lean on the side of the game beside you to watch them play

it was a boy behind you. he has shaggy blue hair that ends near his shoulders, dark eyes that look red in the dim light of the arcade framed by whispy lashes, and his slender fingers wrap around the joystick a moment after sliding his card in

his posture is relaxed as he watches the claw move, and you take a moment to inspect him further. he's wearing an odd neon vest over-top a black hoodie and black sweatpants, and you finally realize he must be an employee. when your gaze finally slides back to the glass, you watch the claw come down and grab the hello kitty plush with ease

you tense beside him almost immediately, and tomura doesn't miss the way you let out a small sound of both awe and disbelief. he doesn't reach for the plush after it falls into the prize box, merely turning to look at you, and your breath hitches silently when you catch sight of his full face

he wasn't conventionally attractive, but there was something undeniably pretty about the soft curve of his mouth and the slope of his nose. he stares at you wordlessly before grabbing the plush and holding it out for you, and your eyes widen as you quickly straighten up

"oh... you got it for me?" you murmur, and his lip twitches

"you're shit at claw machines."

normally, if he were anyone else, you would've scowled or snapped back with something equally as rude—but, as you stare at him, you realize he's not trying to be mean—he was stating a fact. and... yeah, you are shit at claw machines.

you smile suddenly, and tomura's hard gaze flickers with something you can't discern before he quickly schools his expression into something neutral

"if you, uh... ever need help or anything with the games, you can ask me. i usually work behind that desk." he murmurs, tilting his head to the prize wall and ticket booth behind you two as you watch him slowly

tomura's trying not to squirm underneath your gaze, lowering his head and allowing the pale blue strands of his hair to conceal some of his expression as he feels the heat on his face spread rapidly to his ears

"thank you." you say eventually, cradling the plush gingerly to your chest as he peers up blankly

"are you new here? i've never seen you before." he says, and you nod

"it's a small town, huh?"

he hums, before mumbling something you don't catch

"huh?"

"tomura." he mumbles a little louder, and you smile

"hi, tomura."

"hey..."

tomura's got a husky low voice and wandering hands that scratch nervously at his neck, yet you still feel something akin to endearment as you watch him and realize that he's nervous while talking to you. cute.

"so... are you on your break right now or something?" you ask, watching his expression carefully as he nods

"yeah." he coughs, peering around for a moment

"i think i saw a fast food place or two in this strip mall. wanna go grab something to eat, tomura?" you suggest, and the way his face lights up is nothing short of precious. tomura's mouth twitches with a breathy laugh, and he nods earnestly

"yeah, yeah... i'll pay, my treat."

tomura practically rips off his vest as he hangs it on the rack, smoothing out his hair three times in the shitty employee mirrors in the back while wondering how the hell he found the confidence to flirt with you and how it worked! he couldn't wait to tell kurogiri about you when he got home... he'd probably be impressed and happy to hear tomura initiated the interaction, too.

when he comes out, he's got a flush to his cheeks as he pushes open the door for you, already beginning to explain the ins and outs of claw machines as you two begin walking side by side

tomura's eyes catch some of the rays that come from the setting sun, and his eyes look like sparkling rubies. for some odd reason... you feel like he could be the thing to make you like your new home.

"so, you hate me?" you ask, straightening up as jack walks right past you in the kitchen. you were bent down to get something from the cabinet beneath the sink — he walked right behind you... and didn't slap your butt.

not even a soft pat.

that obviously means your boyfriend hates you.

because not once since you've been going out, for a good chunk of months now, had this man walked past you and did not slap your ass. every single time. washing the dishes? slap. making dinner? slap. sweeping? slap. drinking water? slap. if you two were simply hanging out on the couch, the moment you stand up, slap. jack is simply obsessed with your ass, and it shows. sometimes even in public — those were obviously less of a slap and more of a gentle pat. like he just needed to put his hands on you, and somehow, it always on your butt.

jack stops mid step, turning around to face you. his handsome, wrinkled face has confused written all over it. "what?"

"you didn't slap my butt," you say, as if it's obvious. "you hate me."

"sweetheart—"

"you don't love me anymore!" you cut him off dramatically, throwing your arm up like a damsel in distress.

jack watches you, trying to figure out if you're serious or not. when he catches that slight tilt of your lips, he huffs out a chuckle, shaking his head. he walks back into the kitchen with that slow gait that makes you weak in the knees. because he knows the effect he has on you.

"i hate you, mhm?" jack says when he's close enough, trapping you between his body and the counter behind you. your heart picks up the pace, but you're not gonna let him throw you off just yet.

you tilt your chin up defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. "yes, you do—" now, you're the one being cut off. by his lips.

jack grabs your jaw with one of his big hands, bringing you to his lips so he can devour you. his kiss is demanding, his tongue licking the seam of his lips. his other hand trails down your body, down to you hip. he grabs your ass, squeezing the flesh there. you melt against him, all that defiance leaving your body.

the bastard laughs into the kiss when you moan softly at his handling, his other hand going down to grab at your ass, too. he's rough, and you yelp against his lips when jack smacks your ass-cheek. "ouch,"

i mean, can you blame him for thinking about you when his hand is around his cock? as he pumps up and down and imagines it’s you wrapped around him? panting into his pillow, letting out little whines and moans as he nears his high, pretending his squelching fist is your soft cunt.

but god when he finally asks you out, and you two get together, and finally, finally, you invite him to your bed (he waited because he’s a good, patient man), he damn near cums in his pants.

fuck, though, when he’s got you there spread under him, knees to your ears and his fat, thick cock is slowly breaking you apart, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let you go. not when you’re taking him so well, soft mewls leaking from your pretty little lips, eyes rolling back as he hits that special spot over and over. his whole body is nearly triply the size of yours, and he can’t help but notice the bulge in your tummy every time he thrusts.

This is one slice of an incredible high resolution, enhanced color image of Pluto, recently released by NASA. You can see the full, larger version here. 

Gojo Satoru and Sung Jinwoo, just two pussy drunk men vying for your attention. And unfortunately for you, they have the biggest breeding kink.

Which is how you found yourself here, naked and sprawled across your bedsheets, with your legs spread wide open to accommodate their lengths.

You lay sandwiched in between their thick leaking cocks. Gojo's long fingers gripping the fat on your hips as he thrusts himself into you while Jinwoo plays with your sensitive perked nipples from below, his pace matching with Satoru's with each lift of his hips.

The both of them working together in sync, cocks grinding against one another in your greedy little pussy, their thrusts relentless as you try to milk their cocks, all while they compete with one another to be the first to get you pregnant.