#a bit less now bc i think i accidentally bit a little of it off yesterday

[gellavonhamster]

Thirty, flirty (?), and currently not thriving but may start thriving a little after I get my fucking wisdom tooth removed today

[orcelito]

Feel like I am absorbing as much as my father after his death as possible. I will carry on his Legacy. I will be the Biker (in time). I am already the weapon collector (though with knives, not guns). I even have accepted owning a minions mug, something I swore would never happen (I hate those fucking things), just bc it makes me think of him.

Maybe he's gone now, but I'm gonna make damn sure to live a continuation of his life... just in my own way, lol

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

Hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.

ᰔ pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)

ᰔ summary. when underground boxer gojo satoru becomes a little strapped for cash, he gets a day job as a babysitter for a five-year-old kid named yuuji who most definitely has adhd (but that’s besides the point). the kid’s mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: don’t accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. he’s pretty sure he’s got a good hold on the former, but he’s got no self control over the latter.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (reader’s 22 & gojo’s 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except there’s a lil bit of lore so it’s kinda porn w plot, uhh having sex with risk of getting caught, gojo beats people up at night & then plays father figure to a 5 y/o during the day, mentions of violence/alcohol/drugs/blood/cigarettes

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

a/n. hiiii friends jeez it feels like FOREVER since i've posted some good ol' smut (still has plot tho xd)...hopefully you enjoy n see ya at the bottom! lmk if i missed any warnings! if you asked to be tagged but didn’t get tagged it’s bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldn’t tag them i’m sorry!!

alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :”) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! 💕 ART CREDITS: @/3-aem

➸ masterlist

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): heyy um i’m sorry if this comes off kinda rude i just am kinda bad with this but i was wondering if you could text my mom for questions about yuuji’s care instead of me?

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesn’t know much ab how to take care of him bc i was the one that took care of him for a while but i just really want to separate myself from that guardian role now that i’ve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think it’s not my place anymore. i just wanna be big sis now haha

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: I get it. Sorry if I was making you uncomfortable with my texts

2:48pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. it’s just i’m kind of busy n stuff so it can be distracting 

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

2:52pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

2:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird things… i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

2:56pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah he was always “accidentally sexting me” n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah

2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll go beat him up

2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i’m not saying you’re like him tho i just think maybe less texting unless its an emergency okay?

3:00pm Gojo Satoru: Are you sure because I will totally go beat him up for you

3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): also no offense but you dont look like you could beat someone up

3:01pm Gojo Satoru: WHAT 3:02pm Gojo Satoru: Tf you mean “no offense” that’s literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy

3:04pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the ‘ohhh i wanna look good for instagram’ way and not like real man muscles yknow

3:06pm Gojo Satoru: Ok princess next time you visit home and go on one of your stupidly large grocery hauls I’ll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourself 

3:06pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE

3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? I’m not sensing any emergencies here

3:11pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(

3:16pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll let the kiddo know you say hi 👋🏼 

The irony of it all was that, if Gojo really wanted to, he absolutely could beat the shit out of someone. And he has, hundreds of times, pseudo professionally. Although that isn’t something he’d admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that she’s entrusted her five-year-old son’s life to the hands of an underground boxer. 

But he needed the money. A night-time job didn’t really make daytime money, not when they could easily replace him with the next dude the second he gets knocked out of the ring more than twice, let alone if he let it happen once. And although he sometimes made large sums, it wasn’t stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was. 

The babysitter working nights at unsanctioned dojos and gyms located in the back of cartel blocks, knocking teeth out of men twice his size, would put any decent mother into a coma or induce some episode of syncope, hence why it wasn’t something he put on his resume before he got hired. Not that he even needed to provide a resume; your mom seemed desperate to cover the position as fast as possible, that promotion at work was moving faster than she wanted to, and Gojo’s beneficial attribute that he possessed as a candidate to look after her son, compared to all the other potential hires, was that he had a penis.

He likes the kid. Yuuji. He’s got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like he’s geriatric, he’s really only the ripe old age of twenty-seven, but the immortality and infinite stamina that a five-year-old boy has on him is enough to have him huffing and puffing at the end of every single evening shift he takes on with the rascal. 

Fighting is all sprint, and no stamina. Sure, there might be some more seasoned boxers that might disagree with him, but for someone as young as him in the field, it’s the tactic he’s been forced to gain. If he draws a fight on for too long, he'll get killed by a forty-two year old man with steroids clogging up his adipose tissue and enough  testosterone to grow a full-body beard by the time the sun starts to set. No, his strategy is to knock them out within the first fifteen seconds. Use their weight against them, and whatnot. A tactic he’s found has worked, since he’s been undefeated thus far. 

He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings who’ve gained millions the night before from selling crystal meth only to lose it all the night following in the second Gojo hooklines a solid punch to their betting boxer’s chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if they’re even able).

He doesn’t pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but it’s a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.

It’s not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep they’ve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasn’t doing all of this to feel some sense of work-life pride, no, it was just sustenance. When basic needs are not met, humans resort to the most animalistic of all behaviors, and while he’s not proud of what he does, he can’t deny the fact that it’s turned him into an adrenaline junkie that gets a rush in his veins every time he knocks a jaw loose.

But balance was key. And hence why he’s a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend he’s the king’s most trusted appointed knight, or he’s the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe he’s the evil power ranger (he always forgets which color that one was) that is determined to make the world a living hell by smashing mr. potatohead against the bunk bed post a billion times for all the other toys to see. Or whatever other imaginative hyperfixations Yuuji imposes on him in the later afternoon once he’s had his bowl of spaghetti-O’s and is ready to play. Lately, the kid’s been really into space. They’ve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojo’s day, he just had a good ol’ Buzz Lightyear.

“One rule, that’s it: don’t accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Don’t flirt with my daughter.” 

There’s a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows he’s up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didn’t read the slight swell to his eye and the healing gash across his cheek as anything other than this boy is trouble and I want him nowhere near my too-good-for-him daughter of reproductive capacity since that’s the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like he’s up to no good? He’s not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuuji’s life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ……right?

The first night he met you, it was awkward to say the least. Gojo spends most of his nights performing deadly stunts for middle aged men with potbellies, and most of his days hanging out with a five-year-old (one who he’d argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, he’s got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyone’s in college now or doing a masters or they’re working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that he’s been working in insurance for the past two years. Listen, in fairness, he probably makes the same amount of money as an insurance broker would anyways, but he can’t exactly own up to the identity of his craft. 

Anyways, the point is, he’s not used to seeing other people his age anymore. There’s the occasional hook-up with girls he hasn’t seen since Mrs. Tracy’s homeroom period back in sweet two-thousand-sixteen, or his twice-a-year hangout with Suguru where he only learns the day of where he's visiting from since the guy moves around more than Gojo can keep up with. But save for that, he mostly just sees your mom and then Yuuji. 

So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuuji’s half-finished GoGurt back in the fridge was startling to say the least. When the sight of a woman startled him, he knew he needed to start getting out again.

You were on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab at something over the fridge, and wearing these ridiculously short shorts to where he could see the curve of your ass, his line of sight trailing down the skin of your bare legs. He couldn’t see anything of your form above your shorts, given you were wearing an extremely baggy t-shirt with NYU on it in big bolded university letters. As far as he knew, you were a senior at NYU, studying psychology, made dean’s list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that she’s proud of her daughter, but doesn’t that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.

“Here,” he said, pressing his front to your back, maybe just to get a feel, as he reached over to you to finally grab the box of cereal you were swatting for, the one that he purposefully placed at the back because Yuuji learned how to climb counters recently. “Is this what you want?”

He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you weren’t expecting some random man to be in the house right now, and your first instinct ended up being to grab the knife out of the kitchen knife block and lunge it straight at his torso.

If it wasn’t for his boxer reflexes, he’d have ended up at the ER that evening. Or dead. All depending on the strength you could pack into a stab. But instead, he deflected it, though not without a gash to his torso through the fabric of his shirt, one that you spent the rest of the evening profusely apologizing for and eventually mending to with cotton balls and neosporin. 

“I didn’t know you were my little brother’s babysitter,” you mumbled with a small wince on your face as you dabbed ointment on the wound while he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his shoulder. He’s never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.

“It’s fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.”

He remembers the curl of your eyelashes while you stared down at his bare upper half, something he imprinted on his memory rather than the concern in your face as your fingertips traced the scars across his chest. He hoped they made you feel better about the one you just slashed into him, because after all, what was one more? 

He knows he shouldn’t have, but he kissed you that night. Two minutes before your mom came home, and right after you bid him goodnight with one more apology, he backed you up against the door of your bedroom, his hands on your hips pulling you towards him, and his lips pressed against yours. Something seamless, from candid conversation that was heading towards an end, to full fledged making out against white-painted wood, his teeth nipping at your lip and he wondered just how touch-starved those university boys were leaving you given the desperate way you’d clinged to his shirt for dear life as he deepened the kiss.

The moment only lasted one minute and fifty-seven seconds, and in the remaining three, your mother’s key pushed into the front door and he had to pull away. Always, on the dot, 10PM, she was home. It was how he knew he had two minutes left to make a move in the first place.

So much for no flirting.

6:57pm Gojo Satoru: Bahahah I accidentally forgot where yuuji’s epipen is 6:58pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 6:59pm Gojo Satoru: Turns out this can-o-soup was just covering it in the cabinet

7:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): ??? why did you need to find his epipen

7:08pm Gojo Satoru: Oh he accidentally took a bite of my pad thai 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: I freaked cuz I thought it had peanuts in it but I remember I asked for it without any  7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shit’s crazy

7:10pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY THE FUCK DIDNT YOU TEXT ME????????

7:12pm Gojo Satoru: YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT ME TEXTING YOU UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY ?

7:13pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): SATORU YOU THOGHT HE ATE SOMETHING W PEANUTS IN IT AND YOU FORGOT WHERE HIS EPIPEN WAS THATSS A FUCKIGN EMERGENCY

7:15pm Gojo Satoru: THE KID IS DOING FINE HES ALIVE JESUS LEAVE ME ALONE 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: See. he’s chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isn’t he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?

7:20pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

He tried to keep his word though (although he doesn’t recall ever giving it) out of the respect he had for your mom. She was a hard-working lady, single mom of two who went from working three jobs to now being a major administrator at a big law firm near the outskirts of town. It was an underdog story if he’d ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story. 

But a little texting here and there wouldn’t hurt, right? Or so he thought, until you told him to cut it out with the contact. Maybe you were just trying to be the good one in this situation. After all, hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, he’ll eventually get your replies to his which shirt should Yuuji wear to the park? and look, the toothfairy gave him the butt of a joint and a couple thumbtacks for his front tooth. he’s ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you weren’t trying to preserve propriety. And when you’d occasionally visit every other weekend, he’d do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and you’d fill up your nights with hangouts with your hometown friends to avoid spending too much time with him at the house. A silent agreement to not fuck each other, it was. 

4:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(

5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]

5:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!

5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll it’s fake. We’re working on his halloween costume

5:09pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY DOES IT HAVE BLOOD?!?!?!?!?!?

5:10pm Gojo Satoru: He wants to be a baby xenomorph and I'm his parasitic host. You know that iconic chestburster scene from the old school alien movies? yeah

5:12pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something

5:13pm Gojo Satoru: I’m not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him

5:14pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. you’ve deranged his brain.

5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.

Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, he’d say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows it’s close to neither. He’s no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, he’s a con artist that’s tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because he’s trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given he’s not knocked dead before then for the crime’s amusement.

But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojo’s grown attached to him too. He taught the kid how to tie his own shoes and piss inside the actual toilet like a real man. And that kid’s the only thing that’s made him question any of this. Maybe that’s what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that you’ll stick around to see your kids get older. The thought that there are eyes on you now, eyes that are innocent and hopeful and learning, and because they know nothing at all, you feel the responsibility to protect them from everything. For fucks sake, remind him to never become a dad. 

“Do you like my sister?” Yuuji had asked him out of nowhere one afternoon after he just got home from preschool, stacking a blue cube over a yellow one at the dining table.

“Uhh,” Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. “Yeah, she’s cool. You’ve got a cool sister.”

“But. But.” Yuuji stutters, trying to find his big boy words. He stretches up higher to reach the top of his stack of blocks, but he only has so much arm real estate at the age of five. “Do you like her like you wanna kiss her?”

Gojo grabs the block from the kid’s hand, for a moment questioning Yuuji’s decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kid’s concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it. 

Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isn’t a kiss to a five-year-old just something their mom gives to them before they head off to preschool for the day? And not something that happens between adult men and women? Maybe he should stop watching that adult swim in front of him.

“No. I don’t want to kiss your sister,” he says, again, because he is suspicious of a wire. It was a lie and then some, because he wants to do a lot more than just kiss you.

Gojo lifts the RedBull he was nursing up to his lips and watches Yuuji in the corner of his eye as the kid stares at his growing stack of blocks with a concentrated expression on his face, his chubby fingers squeezing tightly into little round dimpled balls, like he’s putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.

“It’s ok. You can kiss her if you wan’ed to. You can marry her too,” Yuuji says.

Gojo almost spits out his RedBull. He barely manages to swallow it, a broken cough immediately leaving his throat when some of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe and he’s smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.

“Where the fu—…where the flip did that come from?” he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.

Yuuji’s small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. “I want a papa.”

Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what it’s like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojo’s not really close to his old man by any means, but he had still been a fatherly figure in some pivotal moments when he had needed it growing up. Kids need their dads. And he’s seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.

He’s also kind of shocked that Yuuji really did think of you as his motherly figure. Maybe since it had always just been him and his dad, Gojo learned how to self sustain from a young age, and he and his dad became accustomed to just looking after their own interests to avoid the headache of tending to one another. My land is my land, and your land is yours, and there was the occasional Saturday night spent together with his dad’s millions of beer bottles emptied dry on the carpet in front of the 1992 box TV as the two shared a greasy pizza from the place down the street. That was the extent of family solidarity that he knew.

But he can’t imagine being barely eighteen and having to take care of your little brother all by yourself because your mom was too busy trying to put food on the table and was too poor to hire a babysitter. Your mom tried so damn hard to keep you away from the single teenage mother life, but somehow ended up giving it to you by proxy in the end anyway. It was no wonder you wanted space now that Yuuji’s a little older and your mom can afford a babysitter. No matter how much you might love your sibling, being their effective guardian out of pure necessity had to have taken a toll.

Gojo clears his throat before he speaks. “Buddy. If I married your sister, we’d be brothers. I wouldn’t be your dad.” 

Yuuji’s eyes light up at the word brother. “Brothers? Me and you?”

“Yeah. Bros.”

The kid giggles, all bubbly with cheeks rounding fully and eyes sparkling. Gojo reaches out to ruffle at his hair before Yuuji gets down onto one stubby leg at a time from the chair then bolts towards the kitchen.

“Juice!!” he yells somewhere around the corner out of sight.

Gojo sighs, staring at all the toys he pulled out for Yuuji to play with, all left in a scattered mess across the table. He gets up out of his chair and heads towards the fridge. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your juice, you little demon.”

The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids don’t really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them. 

This is what he thinks of tonight when he wraps his worn out boxing tape around his hands and his wrist, tightening it with his teeth, and he can smell the sweat and grime from them. The back of the underground gym had an old dated locker room, and as Gojo stretches his neck side to side while sitting on the stiff metal bench, he eyes the peeling red paint of the locker in front of him, blurring vision making it look like spilt blood. 

His phone pings with a text. He shuffles inside his duffle bag to look for it while his other hand scratches at his bare chest.

1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y i’m 

He blinks at the screen, confusion flashing across his face. He types one letter, but then he sees three dots and a speech text bubble in the bottom left, so he waits for you.

1:09am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i drunk :(

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. 

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

1:10am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): at a apartyyyy

His eyebrows raise slightly, the thought of you tipsy on some frat party couch flashing through his mind, yet of all things you could be doing at that frat party, you’re texting him? Must be a really boring party.

1:11am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?

1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldn’t sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Don’t you have a midterm in the morning?

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that

1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge

1:15am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): im so fucked;’;(((

He snorts. He’s got a bit more life experience than you, five-ish years to be exact, more than enough time to master the no-hangover hangout, but just before he can offer you some advice, he sees another text from you. 

1:16am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): can i tell u smething 

His gaze flits up to the ceiling briefly, and he hears commotion outside the thick walls of the locker room. The previous fight was over, and fast. The guy must’ve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up. 

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

He stands up, placing his phone down on the bench before he flexes the muscles in his arms a couple times to get the blood flowing into them. And there’s the noise of another ping. Actually, four.

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i thikn of  1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): *kissed me

His eyes widen slightly, irises dry to the ashy cigarette smoke from outside lingering in the air, and his heart rate picks up a bit. An adrenaline junkie with close to no fear in his veins due to the way his amygdala’s been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet he’s got his breath hitched from the memory of your soft lips against his. It makes the blood rushing through the muscles of his arms rush somewhere down south instead.

Loud banging on the door of the locker room jolts him out of his trance, and he’s stiff around the edges once more.

“Satoru! You’re up, man,” he hears Danny, the fight coordinator, yell at him from the other side of the heavy & poorly-installed steel door.

Gojo sighs, glancing down at the texts on his phone. To respond, or not to respond. You’re off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain you’ll regret every life decision you’ve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors you’ve engaged in tonight. He knows that responding to you might put you at ease rather than straight up ignoring you, but the feeling will pass, and he has a match to win with no more room left to stall.

He makes his way out the locker room, pushing past the crowded halls of people underneath dim flashing club lighting, some dudes angrily jerking to face him when he pushes past them with a stiff shoulder, only for their eyes to widen when they see just exactly who pushed them. 

There’s strippers in the ring, doing some routine for pre-match, and Gojo narrows his eyes at the man he sees laying back over the rubber boundary rope, head tipped back up to the ceiling with a wicked grin on his face. So that was his opponent? He’s never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while they’ve been preparing to be here for weeks. Hence why boxers tend to do better when they visit a different district than they do in their own. There have been rules made to limit these types of fights, mostly over outrage that it was unfair to bid on them, but they were also usually more entertaining to watch. Gojo’s got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.

“Hey,” Gojo calls out, grabbing Danny by the back of his collar and dragging him towards him and away from the girls stepping down onto the floor, “what’s in for this fight?”

Danny glances up at the ceiling. “Tarp’s bettin’ tonight, so it can’t be anything less than ten grand for you. I’d say tops fifteen?”

Gojo narrows his eyes further, then glances off into the ring again. The man stands up, and Gojo gets a better look on his face. He’s got short hair, neon green in color with a dark fade underneath and tattoos all over his face. But those eyes. They were freakishingly red, and it made him uneasy. He knows the type. The type of boxers that do this to genuinely hurt people for thrill. Make no mistake, Gojo understands he’s made himself out to be like that too, gaining some kind of rush out of this profession, but this type of fighter was different. The type to literally continue smashing a dude’s face into the floor until they’re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because that’s the kind of action the spectators wanted.

Danny reads his line of sight. “That’s Gale. Newton’s new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. He’s undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,” Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. “Chances are he’ll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. I’m talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this.”

“Uh-huh,” Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Danny’s elbow falls from it. Forget the money, he just wants to make it out of this alive.

He sets his foot up on the square, ducking through the dividing boundary straps and the tacky caution construction tape that the gym thinks creates an exciting ambience. He hears the static of the speakers as the announcers call out Gojo’s name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojo’s chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena. 

The dim overhead lights flickered, casting shadows over the makeshift ring, and the crowd pressed tight around at every perimeter area, yelling and pushing, one even tosses a beer bottle on the square and it shatters, spreading glass all across, a few shards reaching Gojo’s feet and he looks down at them with a shudder. A fight immediately breaks out in the crowd over something related or possibly entirely unrelated, and he’d have no way of knowing as he swipes the shards away with his heel.

The influential men always sat up on higher seating, off towards the back in their own VIP section where they suck in the smoke of fat cigarettes and peer through 100% tinted sunglasses to assess the boxers they’ve bid thousands on. The light reflects off the golden grills of their teeth with every snarl at any passerby that gets too close, like a lion in its den. That’s what the sanction was called. Lion’s den.

Gojo sighed, eyeing the twisted grin of this Gale guy across from him. Was that his real name? Usually, foreign district guys get nicknames. Gojo’s always thought the nicknames were tacky, and he’s accumulated some of his own over the years, but to his ears, none of them ever really landed, although The White Fox admittedly was kinda nice. Reminded him of throwback shooting games. 

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, holding his hands up in front of his chest in weak fists, storing energy in them in the form of pure anticipation alone, and then the bell rang.

His opponent lunged towards him immediately, fists flying in a barrage of reckless strikes, and Gojo’s eyes momentarily widened in the briefest moments of hesitation he had been allowed before ducking and dodging every one of this guy's shots, then jumping a step back to create distance.

Fuck. He was fast. Not just boxer fast, athlete fast. There was a difference. And it wasn’t a good one to be up against.

Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldn’t win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and he’ll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guy’s face, grin wide like he’s some cannibalistic beast. 

Stepping back towards the center, Gojo purposefully set himself up for Gale to swipe a vicious hook towards his head, before Gojo last minute ducked down, crouched to the floor, and swung his leg out to knock the guy off balance by his ankles, and he falls onto his back with a loud thud!

There’s a moment of momentary silence from the crowd, right before Gojo put the man in a torso-lock, twisting him in a way a human body should absolutely not be twisted, hearing the grunts of pain and the crack of spine even through the shouts of the crowd.

He can hear it. Kill him! Knock his fucking teeth out! Snap his neck like a goose, man! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM!

He feels like throwing up. 

Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasn’t really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. “This is enough, right?” he asks.

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

Gojo lets go of his opponent, leaving him there to heave for a moment before he gets up onto his feet again. Just needs one more, and he’s a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he won’t have to come back here for a couple weeks.

Gale gets up, swiping at the spit that had trickled out the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and he had an enraged look on his face. The second the bell rang for the second round, he exploded forward towards Gojo with even more fervor than before, gritted expression with a thirst for violence fueling the storm of punches he was throwing towards Gojo but he tried to remain calm, light on his feet, swiftly duck and avoid before he can find another opportunity to clear a sharp, clean jab right to the ribs—

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

Gojo misses his strike, leaving his guard wide open, and Gale takes the opportunity to land a solid punch straight to his jaw, sending his mouth guard flying straight out of his mouth into the air, and knocking him backwards onto the ground with a thud and then he finds himself staring up at the rusting metal ceiling and a ringing in his ears that almost matches the roar of the crowd.

His head is in a haze, dizzy like where one second could feel like a millennia. He feels a soreness underneath his chin, a pain that radiates to his mouth, and he briefly swipes his tongue over his front teeth to make sure he still has all of them. 

What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. There’s no intrusive thoughts allowed in life or death situations, not when he was always just one smash to the head away from a permanent concussion. But, fuck, he can’t help it. Can’t help thinking of you. Even when his vision has gone blurry and he should really be weary about what happens next in this ring, his mind’s just thinking about you, at some frat party, tipping back shots of tequila and waiting for a text-back in response to your tipsy ones. Were you even waiting up on him? Have you already passed out on the couch, or were your friends dragging you back to your dorm? Or are you fucking some other dude right now? Has he got his hand up your top, squeezing at you, sleazily feeling you up before spilling beer all down your shirt, and are you kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, your phone now somewhere long slipped between the cushions of the couch and out of sight?

Even though it’s still sore, he tenses his jaw. Grinds his teeth, even. Tasting blood somewhere along the line of his gums, he realizes his lip is split. He licks at it, the flavor of copper more rich on his tongue, and he clenches his fists tightly. Why’s he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe that’s what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although he’s not sure why the guy across from him at the ring has to pay for it.

He lifts his head up off the ground, and while it felt like years he had been down, a glance at the timer tells him it’s only been a solid four seconds. A solid four seconds that his opponent had to fully charge a lunge towards him with the look of death in his face, raising his elbow up into the air in time with his leap, ready to come straight down, and Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight above him from where he’s still lying on the wood.

“Shit—” he cusses, rolling his body over to the side so that the dude falls straight down onto the floor rather than elbow Gojo in the fucking ribs, and then he gets back up on his feet. 

Stakes were high, he has to end this, he has to end this now, and he flexes the muscle in his right bicep, channeling everything he has into this one blow, and before Gale even really has a chance to turn around and face him again, Gojo’s already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guy’s chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before he’s sent flying backwards and slammed against the tight rubber lining of the ring to where he was half hanging over it.

The room fell silent for a split second, then erupted in a roar as the referee fell to one knee beside Gale, checking him for any semblance of consciousness, and when he found none, he waves the match off. 

Gojo’s eyes flit up towards the lion’s den, the only opinions that he really needed to care about were sitting in those mahogany chairs with glasses of scotch swirling around in their hands, and he sees some of them looking straight at Gojo before leaning towards one another and discretely talking about something he can’t make out because he doesn’t know how to read lips.

He feels someone tug at his arms from behind, pulling him to crouch down and he balances back on the balls of his feet. He glances down through the ring at the floor. Danny was leaning against the wooden surface of it. “Dude. Go.” He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. “Go fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I don’t know, get some more blood out of him.”

“What?” Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Danny’s grip. “The fuck are you saying?”

“I told you, man, Newton’s here and he’s got his eye on you. Go give him a show,” Danny says, “do it.” And when he sees clear frustration on Gojo’s face he sighs. “Twenty-five grand, consider that, will you?”

Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Danny’s feet. “Go fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.” And then he ducks underneath the bands and hops back down onto the floor, pushing past people who were trying to grab at him and pull at him and lift him up and even throw him down until he made it through flashing hallways and back to the locker room.

He shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt lock into the frame so no one can follow him inside, and then he leans his weight back against the chilling steel before tipping his head back until it hits the surface too.

He lets out of a few deep breaths, then stares down at the sting he finds over his knuckles. Red and blistering from the last punch he delivered, and he’s almost certain he broke a bone in his hand. Fuck. It was bleeding across the cuts, too. He had to figure out a way to get it all healed by tomorrow, as if that was humanly possible, just because he doesn’t want Yuuji questioning him about it.

Yuuji. For fucks sake, when has he ever thought about the kid this much? When has he ever thought about much of anything when he’s out here or in the ring? He’s a babysitter by day. He’s a “part” of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. That’s it. He’s no five-year-old’s caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking of you when facing big, burly men he’s aiming to rough up, all within the dead hours of night. So then how come these thoughts are on his mind at all times, twenty-four-seven, around the clock?

He heads further into the locker room, glancing down at the bench where he’d left his phone, then picks it up, neck craned all the way down to glance at the screen as he holds his phone by his hip because he doesn’t have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight. 

He sees your messages. You never sent any follow-up ones, just your horrendously typed out sonetimes, i thikn of when u kisse me *kissed me across the span of four texts, and Gojo runs a tired hand down his face.

He tips his head back to groan at the ceiling, guttural with no basis other than a release of all the pent up frustration of every sort, then he types in a couple messages to you,

3:23am Gojo Satoru: That’s nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the time 

—and then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You’re awoken to your alarm blaring heavily, and you whack your arm across your nightstand table beside your tiny twin-size bed to hit the snooze button, then rub your eye with a loose fist while smacking at the residual taste of alcohol you have on your tongue. 

“Mm…” you mumble to yourself. And then the thirst hits you. The overwhelming, intense, unquenchable thirst that leaves your mouth feeling like the Sahara desert before you grab your twice-dented Hydroflask from the nightstand, twist the cap off and chug about twenty ounces of water in one breath. 

You let out a deep exhale and fall back into bed, your hand resting on top of your water-filled tummy, and you stare up at the ceiling of your dorm. 

Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldn’t have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam in—you checked the time on your phone—about an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache that’s pounding through your head. But your roommates insisted you went, and so go you did. You never knew what to expect, always torn between shaving your pussy before you go or throwing on a stained pair of sweatpants to keep the guys away instead. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. But last night, you ended up drinking more than you usually do, and that always led to poor, poor, poor decisions, in which all the sense of pride you had in yourself was washed down with the puke that you hurled into the upstairs toilet. 

You grab at your phone again, briefly seeing that your friends had sent you some photos from the night. You immediately swiped off to the side to dismiss the notifications, because as far as you were concerned, you never wanted to see those photos in your life.

And then, in the briefest of moments, you saw a familiar name in your notifications that made you heart skip a beat.

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

With an immediate gasp, you pulled your phone to your chest and held it there, blinking up at the pale yellow ceiling, your heart picking up in rhythm.

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you don’t even remember what you said, and so you don’t even want to see what he replied with.

You groan, rubbing both your hands across your face then kick your sheets back with your feet like a child having a temper tantrum because you were so embarrassed you had even texted him at all last night. I mean, he was hot. A little older than you, really gorgeous eyes, tall, and, yeah, you gave him shit for the Instagram muscles thing, but that’s only because you thought he’d find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that he’s more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man you’ve ever met. You didn’t want to have a flustered schoolgirl attitude because it would just seep through to his ego.

In any case, he was hot, there was no denying it, so can you really blame yourself? But still. There was collateral with this. You had to see him every other weekend. He knows your family, even your extended since they invited him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks ago. A high-risque drunk text recipient if he ever was one (of course he has been, look at that face). Why couldn’t you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJ’d you underneath your desk at the back of the lecture hall instead?

The thing that made you nervous about Gojo Satoru was that he was just so…confident? Like, in that I was raised to be this way confident and not that I fought inner demons my whole life to barely end up this way confident, y’know? Never had to fake it ‘til he made it, he just was. At least that was the kind of energy you got from him, and unfortunately for you, it was nerve wracking but enticing all at the same time.

You sigh. “Stupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair to grip at the strands.

You pull your phone away from your chest, and finally brave yourself to read the texts from your notifications screen, but not without blurring your vision a little to further stall. And then you finally refocus it to read them. The first one you see has you gasping—

3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter): I think about fucking you all the time 

It has heat spreading across your cheeks, and you blink at your screen, then quickly swipe up to read the previous messages with rushed glides of your index finger on the screen to see that he had sent it to you in response to your barely coherent texts about how you still so often think about that time he randomly pressed you up against the door of your bedroom to kiss you that night you first met him.

I think about fucking you all the time

At 3 in the morning? He decided to send that text at 3 in the fucking morning? That was the devil’s hour. What’s he trying to tell you? 

Oh come on, you’re not stupid. And you know he isn’t either. The sexual tension was palpable, it was there since the day you two met and you almost stabbed him, and also everytime you were visiting the house, and his shoulder brushes against yours when he’s trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when you’ve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojo’s sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. There’s even sexual tension over the phone, in those stupid texts he sends you all the time about meaningless child care stuff, and honestly, those little updates made your day.

But… you don’t know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And she’d probably pulverize him if she found out he ever made a move on you. Cremated without leaving a trace behind would be an understatement. She thinks he’s no good and she thinks you’re too good. You know she’s warned him before to not get close to you, as if she was pre-emptively expecting him to try to get in your pants like it was some canon force of the universe, hence why he’s probably so fucking awkward around you whenever she’s there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so he’d rather not risk it by just avoiding looking at you at all.

Your mom has always been protective of you. Your father was a deadbeat, one she thought she loved, only to watch him leave. And she had to raise a baby all by herself. He re-entered your lives right before you graduated high school, knocked up your mom again with Yuuji, and guess what? Left again without a trace. To be doubly humiliated by a man is a fate you wouldn’t wish on any woman, but that’s exactly what your mom went through. It was a wake-up call for her, though. No more living paycheck to paycheck like you had been your whole lives up until Yuuji was born. The kid doesn’t even know how lucky he is with everything he has right now. Your mom worked her way up the corporate ladder and made something of herself and now you guys were comfortable, so it was safe to say she had some sort of right to look after her daughter, of whom she simply doesn’t want to follow in the same naive footsteps of her youth.

You get it. She wants to break the generational cycle. But it made being with men tough on all fronts, let alone dating. You could never bring a guy home because he’d never be enough, even if he cured cancer or could make you orgasm while doing a sixty-nine handstand. And while her overbearing paranoia over what you do or where you are or who you’re with has since dimmed slightly since you officially moved out to finish your last year of higher education at NYU, you can still feel her disappointment from a hundred miles away when you’re making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.

But you got to college. You’ve already made it this far. You’re on dean’s list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. You’re the most highly decorated cello player in the state. You won Miss County pageant when you were sixteen for your philanthropic efforts towards feline leukemia. You did online community college for three years so you could stick back after high school and help your mom raise Yuuji, which meant that you had to forfeit your scholarship to Cornell. You’ve spent your whole life being good, you just wanna be bad for a little bit.

And if bad meant fucking the hot and mysterious babysitter, then so be it. 

You pick your phone up, begin blasting what the hell by Avril Lavigne on your dorm room bluetooth speaker, then type a message to him that says—

10:34am you: do it then

—then shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life i’ve been good, but now, ahhhh i’m thinkin’ what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but he’ll thank them for it later once his balls are empty. 

He’s got you on your back, sprawled across the couch in the living room, the first fuck being a rushed one that you offered him with before he has to go pick Yuuji up from circle time at preschool, which wasn’t ideal, but he’s delirious at the sight of you underneath him right now. Your little NYU shirt, a tighter one this time, bunched up over your bare breasts, otherwise entirely naked other than the flimsy panties dangling at your ankle, and the view of the tip of his cock looking hot and heavy against the velvet of your cunt, slowly pushing in, feeling the warmth of your walls squeeze around him paired with the sweet moan that leaves your lips, makes him fall forward with a bracing hand dug into the cushion by the side of your head because the sensation feels so fucking good he can hardly keep himself upright.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but he’s still got a couple inches he needs you to take, and so you curl your hips upwards towards the cieling to make more room for him, practically putting yourself into a mating press and soon enough he’s balls deep, “you on any birth control?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.

“I can cum inside then, yeah?” he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.

“Let’s get there first, and then we’ll discuss,” you breathe out.

“I’ve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,” he informs you flatly, because it was just the truth and you had to know it, then he feels himself twitch inside, slowly working up to a languid rhythm, almost fearfully like your mom’s going to pop out somewhere around the corner with a camera crew ready like one of those retro TV shows just to humiliate him on national television for not keeping it in his pants like she’d told him to. 

“Harder,” he hears you whisper, and he rolls his eyes shut to just focus on the feeling. The feeling of your nails grazing down the skin of his chest and his abs, tracing the scars he’s collected over the years, and he feels you tightening around him. He leans down to kiss you, fucking you properly now with the squeak of the couch springs echoing across the room, your hums of moans seeping through his lips until he’s fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue. 

The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment he’s lost all sense of control. He wasn’t just an adrenaline junkie that liked to rough up dudes, he was an adrenaline junkie that wanted to fuck you against all better judgement or moral compass. The way your tits were bouncing, the slap of skin on skin, his balls slapping against your ass while you wrap your legs around him tighter, all convincing him that any consequence made it worth it.

“Good,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rams his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears and he feels heat spread all the way up his neck, “goooood, keep squeezin’ me like that, fuck.” He slows down momentarily, just to take a moment and watch, really look and see the way his length disappears inside of your pretty self with every push forward, and then he works back up to a relentless pace that has you tipping your head back with a slack jaw and eyes closed tightly shut, sprained expression of pleasure spread across.

“Oh, oh my god, Satoru—” you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His hand finds it’s way between your legs, calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your clit and you jolt underneath him, gasping as your hand shoots out to dig your nails into his bicep for purchase. “I’m gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.”

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, “Atta girl,” he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as they’d go near your ears, folding you in half and then reigns all hell into your cunt. He should really care a bit more about your pleasure, but testing your flexibility like this with both his hands holding you down was doing sinful things to his brain, and besides, you had yourself covered with the messy circles you were rubbing over your clit. It was hot to see that too, your nimble pretty fingers so close to the place where he was pounding into you. 

“Oh shit, shit, shit—” he grunts when starts to see blistering white in his vision, balls straining with a pleasure that was almost painful. The moment he finishes feels like hot flashes in his brain, a heat like the cum he begins to paint inside your walls in time with your release, thrusting over and over and over, each one more staggered as he lets off a long, drawn out groan that comes from deep within his chest with the feeling of you milking him dry and the sound of you enjoying every second of it. He can’t remember the last time he came this much or this hard and even after coming down from the high, he feels the remnant pulse of your orgasm around his now half-flaccid dick.

He leisurely pulls out, hearing you let out a soft whimper as he marvels at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you and down towards the couch, before he scoops it up with a couple fingers and pushes it back inside. You grip his wrist tightly, but you weren’t stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

He pulls his fingers out of you, coated with sex, then plugs your pussy with the fingers of his other hand because he kinda likes the idea of you walking around all day with him inside of you, so he doesn’t want it getting out. He’s then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find he’s met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, “bet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.”

Your furrow your brows at him, the pout of your lips seen in the way they were puckered to lick his fingers off clean, and when you release the suction with a smack of your tongue and his fingers were wet from your saliva now, his eyes narrow with desire. You push his face away with the heel of your palm to his forehead. “Flattery won’t make me suck your dick.”

“Alright. So? How is it?” he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until he’s hovering over you again, “taste good?”

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

“No,” you say, and you can’t make eye contact, “good.” You sigh. “Hot. I don’t know. Salty, sweet. I’m the sweet. You’re the salty. And this conversation is obscene.”

He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste what’s on yours. “I like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.”

There’s the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

He gets up off the couch in a panic, and heads to the window of the living room fully butt-ass naked, then peers through the blinds to see—

Your mom was making it up towards the front door, rustling with her keys in her purse. And the last thing he sees before he turns around to face you is her pushing the keys through the lock.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he cusses, finding his boxers off of the floor, hopping on one foot with his cum & slick coated dick flapping around and slapping against his thighs unceremoniously as he tries to get one leg in through them and then the other. You’re trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, he’s still sad he can’t freely stare at your tits anymore. You’re rummaging for your skirt in a haste, looking everywhere for it, and he finds it underneath the coffee table before tossing it to you and then he side-to-side hops towards the coat closet while he pulls his sweatpants up over his ass, in time for you to quickly run and shut the door of the closet closed just before the front door of the house swings open.

The inside of the coat closet is dark, barely enough space in there for a six-foot-four two-hundred-and-twenty pound man, but it’s better than being balls deep inside his boss’s daughter on the couch when said boss just came home from work.

He hears conversation on the other side of the door, albeit muffled, and he presses his ear to it to hear better while he tucks his dick into his boxers from where it was hanging over the waistline.

“Mom! You…you’re home so early,” he hears you squeak out.

“Yes,” your mom says, “The rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured I’d come home when there’s less traffic.”

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

“I see, I see, how was your day at work?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.

“Fine.” And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasn’t really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means she’s suspicious about something. “Darling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.”

Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. “Oh, um, I just went to pee. Must’ve—…must’ve got caught when I pulled it back up.” 

“I see,” your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. “You know, I really don’t like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe it’s just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.”

“Mom,” you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.

Your mother sighs. “In any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I don’t have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.”

“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” you chirp, and then he hears you let out a small oh no before you lean even more weight against the door, this time somewhere lower, and he realizes you’re pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizes— his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldn’t put your panties on fast enough. 

Shit. That’s hot. A little fucked up, but hot. He feels his dick harden against the fabric of his boxers, and he rests his forehead against the door, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat as he slips his hands down his sweatpants and then gives his cock a firm squeeze. The thought of you discretely swiping his cum up your inner thigh and smearing it against your thin panties so your mom doesn’t catch sight of it dripping down your legs has him slowly working up to a rock-solid erection, and he almost lets out a broken grunt from the feeling.

“What?” your mother says, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“I’ve just been watching TV this whole time,” you say, “last time I saw him…he was…um, in the backyard pulling weeds?”

He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad. 

Your mother sighs loudly, and he glances down at the strained veins on his dick as he tugs it through his hand, the tip rearing and appearing flushed and dripping with precum. God, you were just on the other side of this door. Less than a few inches away, and he’d be inside of you. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,” your mother says in a more or less detached tone, and he can hear the stomps of her footsteps up the stairs from above him in the coat closet.

The two of you wait at least a solid minute, and just when the coast is clear, he hears you turn the knob of the coat closet and slowly crack it open.

“Okay, I think she’s in the shower, I hear the water running,” you whisper at him, “you can go now—” You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. “What—…Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!” you whisper-hiss at him.

He pulls you into the coat closet, pushing your front against the door to where it clicks shut, and you gasp when his hands pin your wrists crossed behind your back and his dick presses into the plush of your ass.

“You talkin’ to your mom while your pussy’s stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing that’s ever grazed my lizard brain,” he tells you, flipping your skirt up and hooking your panties to the side, his index finger briefly brushing against your entrance to find it still leaking from the way your walls were pulsating from his words. And then he aligns his tip to your entrance. “Now keep quiet while I do this, ‘kay?”

“Oh—” you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, “okay—” you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before he’s already stuffing himself inside of you with one solid glide of a push, making you yelp loudly and he has to instantly cup a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhhhh,” he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, “told you to— fuuuck,” he catches sight of his length covered with a mix of your glassy arousal and his white cum, now starting to cream at the base of his cock, “jesus christ—” he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, “I told you to fuckin’ keep quiet.”

“I’m—mff,” you muffle against his palm, “I’m trying but,” your hips move back in time with his, “feels good, feels too good,” you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.

“Yeah?” he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, “you like it when I fuck you while your mom’s all clueless just up the stairs?” His rhythm falters, feeling his release building, and his hand reaches in front of you to rub your clit, making you drop your head against the door with tightly closed eyes. “Gets— you—wet, doesn’t it?” he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable. 

“Mhm, mhm,” you easily agree, or maybe that’s because it’s all you can really articulate, and he angles his hips up so his balls slap more fervently against your clit, making you scream into his palm while he picks up the pace of the circles he draws on your clit and in one, two, three— beats of his pounding heart, he feels you come undone around his cock, gushing wetness leaking out of you, he can feel the mess of fluids splattering on the skin of his thighs due to each of his heaving thrusts as he cusses out a fuuuuuuckkk before spilling his cum inside of you, a short-lived and thicker release this time that has you mewling from overstimulation, and in a few following thrusts, he’s given you everything he had to give.

His eyes open, he wasn’t even aware he had shut them in the first place, and he glances down at where the two of you were joined. Rings of arousal coat the length of his half-pulled-out dick, and the second he retreats all of it, a bulging push of his cum seeps out of you, dripping and pooling all over the hardwood floors.

“Holy shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,” he says, taking a step away to commit the sight to memory, your legs trembling and still slightly spread, ass pushed out and when you wiggle it a little, he lets out a huff of an exhale because he just can’t believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? He’s never been to college, his old man’s been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.

“No pics,” you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, “that’s my one sex rule.”

He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. “That’s the only rule you have? Anything else goes?” he asks.

You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. “I have a feeling I’d be making up more specific rules if it was with you.”

He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. “I also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didn’t do.”

You blink your eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused, “I didn’t.”

“Huh—” you scoff, “how do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didn’t just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.”

“Nahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, that’s not flirting,” he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, “that’s, like—…I don’t even fuckin’ know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.”

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

“Well you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean I’m stupid.”

“Pshhh. You’re cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.”

Your hand slowly roams up the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching at your wrists until you uncovered up to his collar bone, and you stare at his skin. He tries to not let the way his heart’s beating faster show through the heave of his chest. 

“Why do you have all these scars, anyway?” you whisper to him.   

“Too many girls tryna stab me,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.” Your thumb traces the one you had left on him. 

“I—” He stops himself.

Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because he’s seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen he’s supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesn’t know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, I’m an underground boxer might make you think he’s hot? At the very worst, you’ll report him to the cops and he’d get fired as your little brother’s babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.

“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time,” he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, “no hyper personal details until you’ve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. That’s my one rule.”

You snort. “I could’ve guessed that rule from a mile away.”

He hums. And then there’s the sound of steps creaking down the stairs above the two of you.

You both make eye contact, eyes widening, internally yelling at each other: how the fuck did we get into this situation twice?!

This time, Gojo opens the door and stumbles out of the closet, leaving you inside of it, just in time for your mom to come down the stairs.

“Satoru. I was looking for you,” she says as she rounds the post. “Have you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.”

“Ah, nope, was just about to head out,” he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, “sorry, I was—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, “…pulling out some gnarly weeds.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.” And he’s not sure how to respond because he’s not sure if she’s joking. 

He heads out the door, the keys to your mom’s minivan in his palm as he throws them up into the air and catches them a couple times. And just before he gets inside the car, he turns on his heel to face the house and pulls his phone out of his pocket to type in a message for you.

3:22pm Gojo Satoru: Send over those me-specific sex rules soon

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. hope u enjoyed im shitting bricks posting this bc i haven't posted a oneshot smut since february but thanks so much for reading i appreciate u!! i got way too invested in the whole underground boxer thing 😂😂 but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know i’m a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n it’s a lil angsty (totally different au tho) i’ll probs post that one next but yea i really like, hmm, i really like exploring entire characters within a short amount of time i enjoy writing the obscure lore drops xd it’s been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3

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[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[moonstruckme]

I’m begging for emt marauders where r dislocated her shoulder a stupid way and so r goes to another hospital to avoid them but then they show up bc their hospital is was on a bypass and see r

Thanks for requesting!

cw: shoulder injury no description

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

It’s dark, and despite the cloak of poor lighting and the distance between you, you lock eyes with James from across the parking lot. His brows furrow and he nearly drops the gurney he’s lowering out of his ambulance, Sirius hopping down to help. You see his lips form your name. 

Sirius’ head snaps up. 

There’s nowhere to hide. You shoot them a sheepish smile, your footsteps stalling before you remember to get out of the crosswalk. Remus’ head appears a moment later, peering out of the back of the ambulance. He helps James lower their patient onto the pavement, the both of them shooting worried glances at you as they wheel him inside and Sirius takes off towards you. 

“What the fuck?” he calls as he jogs over. Your boyfriend’s dark hair is tied back in a short ponytail, and it gleams under the fluorescent lights outside the hospital. He looks from your face, to where you’re holding your arm tight to your side, and back again. “What are you doing here?” 

“I, um, didn’t think I’d see you.” It’s out before you can think it through, but in all fairness you’re having a bit of a strenuous evening. 

Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “That’s not what I asked. Sweetheart, what did you do to yourself?” 

You rub your lips together, feeling suddenly very sorry for yourself. Your shoulder really does hurt a lot. “I think I might’ve dislocated my shoulder?” 

“How’d you manage that?”

You hesitate. “Don’t laugh.” 

“Don’t laugh about what?” James asks as he joins you. Remus isn’t far behind. James peers at your arm, looking about as sorry for you as you are. “Are you hurt?” 

“She thinks she’d dislocated it,” Sirius informs him. 

“What were you doing?” Remus moves to your side, setting a comforting hand on your back as he touches near it gingerly. You hiss through your teeth and he stops. 

“You guys can’t laugh at me,” you insist. 

“Well, now I think I might not be able to help myself.” Sirius is smiling at you slightly, though his brows are still bunched with sympathy. “Come on, out with it.” 

You chew your bottom lip. Remus’ eyebrow lifts expectantly. “Okay,” you breathe out, “um, you know how I’ve been going out to rollerskate lately?” 

Remus’ expression clouds over. “I told you that was dangerous,” he says. “Were you wearing your pads?”

“Angel, this late?” James appears scandalized. “It’s been dark for hours!” 

You feel your face heat, growing more sheepish by the second. Sirius gives you a stern look. “Go on,” he says. 

“There was decent lighting and everything, but I accidentally started going down this hill, and I was going, um, really quite fast.” All three of your boyfriends tense in anticipation. “So I threw myself into the grass and I think I landed on my shoulder wrong.” 

Sirius gives a little chuckle, ignoring your glare. “You think?”

“Okay, I’ll admit,” says Remus, “that is a slightly funny image. But it’s less funny that you actually got hurt, dove. Did you come all the way out here just to avoid running into us?” 

You’re too surprised to hide your wince. Trust Remus to have you completely pegged without so much as a conversation. 

James’ lips part at your reaction. “Did you really?” 

“What are you even doing here?” you ask, shamefaced. 

Sirius crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at you. “Our hospital’s on bypass,” he answers. 

You shrink further under the intensity of his gaze. 

“Angel,” James sighs. He steps closer and cups the back of your head, resting his lips heavily on your hairline. “Well, there’s no avoiding us now,” he says, straightening. “We haven’t taken our breaks yet, want us to sit with you while they get you sorted?” 

“Yes, please,” you reply in a small voice. 

Remus makes a compassionate sound in his throat, encouraging you towards the entrance with his hand on your back. “We’d better get you in, then. Hopefully we’ll be able to expedite things with the three of us here.” 

You start to relax, two of your boyfriends seemingly haven forgiven your secrecy. You chance a look at the third, still watching you with a stern expression as you walk towards the hospital doors. He catches your look and flicks up a brow. 

“You’d better still tell me I’m handsome when my hair is all gray,” he says, in the kind of severe tone that makes you doubt whether he’s teasing. “It’s already starting at the roots, and you’re entirely to blame.” 

You quell the urge to smile. “You’ll always be handsome,” you tell him sincerely. 

“That’s the attitude.” Sirius walks backwards in front of you, pecking you firmly on the lips before falling back into step beside you. “Keep rehearsing those lines, sweetheart. I’ll be needing to hear them more often if you keep up with this rollerskating bullshit.” 

[oh-no-its-bird]

Team 7 gets zapped into the warring states era but it's like, team 7 either mid or directly after wave-arc.

They're babies!! They're untrained little babies!!! None of them have gotten that good good character development yet!! Kakashi is still actively desperately wanting to not teach them!! (tho he may have just gotten his "ahh fuck. I actually have to teach them, huh." Moment)

Sasuke looks like a carbon copy of a younger Izuna and it's going to cause problems

Naruto thankfully doesn't look much like an Uzumaki, but his tendency to very loudly introduce himself is going to get him into trouble

Going w my usual flavor of "the Hatake are a very small but very famous clan known for being fucking insane", people are seeing Kakashi and going "oh god oh fuck what are one of THOSE guys doing here oh sage preserve us please don't eat me" as Kakashi just kinda stands there like 🧍‍♂️

Sakura is the only one safe from not being fucked up and over her clan, good for her!

-> back to the Hatake thing.

The kids still know virtually nothing about their sensei so they're learning all this stuff about his clan and believing every word of it, from the believable rumors to the insane.

Sakura, in a hushed, worried voice: "Sensei,, is it true ur clan eats people??"

Kakashi, who's father died before he could tell him almost anything about their clan and genuinely doesn't know but at this point is starting to get a little worried about it:

Kakashi, who also never passes up the opportunity to fuck with someone: "only stupid little students who ask stupid little questions <3"

Sakura and Sasuke: *worriedly look at a confused Naruto*

For convoluted reasons they run into the Hatake of the era and after introductions they look at the kids and are like,

"Oh!!! Ok, so this is your kid, right? :)" pointing at Sakura.

And Kakashi is like. ",,no."

"Ohhh, ok. So this one is your kid then?" *points at Naruto*

",,,,,,,,no."

They look at him confused then nod at Sasuke. "So then that one's your kid, right?"

"None of them are my children."

*visibly disapproving / disbelieving side eye*

One big difference between this and the team ro time travel one is how much less trustworthy Kakashi comes off to literally everyone who looks at him.

He's a trained adult shinobi, probable bloodline thief (with no way to prove his innocence), and he has 3 children from 3 different clans (2 of which are indirectly enemies bc the Uzumaki is a Senju ally) (1 of which might have a direct relation to the Uchiha main house) and comes from an infamously volatile "wild clan" from another country entirely (Iron country)

He is NOT getting out of this with talk no jutsu bullshit. He has a target on his back from day 1 and it will take a minor miracle to get even a single person hear him out

Anyways uhh—

Saying Tajima and Butsuma are still alive but due to die in some months (till team 7 accidentally interfere and somehow accidentally save Tajima, maybe also Butsuma but I'm more biased towards Tajima so I'm thinking just him actually)

Kakashi sees baby Kagami and feels like he's been hit by a truck bc he looks just like a miniature Shisui and he has hang-ups about his "suicide"

Half-Hatake Tobirama is catching HEAT from Kakashi's antics. Why does one of ur cousins have a sharingan. Where did he get those children. Do you know anything about this. Is it your duty to help hunt him down bc hes your blood. If not yours then it's definatley the Hatake's, call them immediately and tell them to clean up their mess.

Bloodline theft is like THE ultimate no-no for all shinobi, especially in this era. To the point that even ancient enemies will sometimes temporarily set aside grudges to kill bloodline theives. Kakashi is so fucked, someone get him out of there

Mmmm there are like still bits and pieces of thoughts floating around in my head for this but I can feel myself getting distracted and want to get back to art fight so I'll leave it here for now

[after-hours-in-the-library]

Guess I got to start this blog somewhere

How would they react to waking up with a boner next to you 

For some reason I can't really write lighthearted things for Alan, sigh

Not really nsfw but kinda suggestive?

If earth could swallow them they would accept it in a heartbeat. 

Poor sweet Kaito is the first one I think that would accidentally get too excited to be sleeping next to his SO and get hard. He is already suffering, don't look at him disgusted, he WILL cry.

Luca is startled like it's the first time happening, apologizing for putting you in an awkward situation. Pat his shoulder and tell him it's alright.

Alan still has some kind of complex of seeing himself as too worn out, a killer and a criminal, and in contrast seeing his partner in a much better light. When he gets hard while sleeping together he almost feels like when he is cleaned the blood off of his fists after an underground fight, whatever rag he grabbed now tainted too.

Sweet baby Subaru feels oh, so bad at the slightest feeling he might be imposing himself on you at any point, be it date plans, shared activities or what to eat for dinner. He removes himself out of the  situation and sends a three paragraph long text apologizing and understanding if you want to break up and not see him anymore.

Doesn't make a big deal out it if you don't react badly

Sho reads books, even if it doesn't look like it, and knows that morning wood usually doesn't happen because of sexual stimuli. Sho also gets a bit bashful at having woken next to you like that, tsk-ing at your teases while he looks away.

‘boys are just like that' Haku might cover with a pillow if you feel uncomfortable or awkward but he will be cracking jokes about the situation to lighten up the mood.

Is like ‘whatever’ and doesn't do anything to hide it

Jin, as nonchalant as ever, doesn't think much about it, he might go to the bathroom and fix his problem if you fuss a bit but otherwise he will stay lying down listening to music.

Towa is a free spirit and rarely cares about morals or common decency, doing as he pleases most of the time, it's no wonder he looks curious when you get surprised at the tent in his pants.

Ed decides it isn't that big of a deal, when you live for so long some insecurities and things you get embarrassed about start mattering less and less. 

Even if Subaru did his best teaching him, Lyca doesn't understand many human sensibilities, like not smelling people or yelling when someone talks smack, it's no wonder he almost seems surprised at your reaction 

Makes you feel like you are the weird one for even noticing 

Leo, the little bitch he always is, will find a way to make it awkward, be it saying you are a perv for looking far down to accuse you of planning it.

Ren is a somewhat mixed case bc on one hand he makes you feel like the weirdo ‘why are you so interested in my groin. Sexual harassment’ but on the other he is internally crying at how awkward it's.

Good luck even getting into that situation 

If you think you can catch Thoma off guard nice try —at least so early into the relationship— he prides himself in being able to act the part of a gentleman so even if it happened you wouldn't wake up or even notice.

Haru is too tired, too busy and doesn't have enough time to cuddle with you to sleep.

Can Zenji even get an erection?

Good luck getting Rui comfortable enough with getting close to sleep next to each other.

[wonyopout]

thinking about a very cute submissive babygirl princess wony, just like this aesthetic of rolarola's ads 🤤 she's playing all innocent while begging you to spank her pussy ughhh asking you to be rough with her because when you fuck her hard it creates a huge belly bulge and she loves staring at it 😭 and then you're so proud that she can handle your thick big cock so you fill her up to the brim with your cum and she gets even more babygirl with you FAWWKKKKKKKKKKK DASKJIOJIJK

ohhh babygirl wony we love u we rlly do, kinda got rlly into the spanking part like i just need to see her covered in hand prints and teary eyed i need to write more wonyoung + impact play, but anywhooo hope u like it anon took a few creative liberties n its a lil short but this got me outta my writing funk yayyy

[cw]: g!p fem reader, impact play, mommy kink, dacyriphilia sorta kinda

listen, wonyoungs always been very playful with you, all bark and no bite. just wanting to go far enough to tease you and get you just a tiny bit annoyed with her, loves that you start getting short with her and the tone of your voice drops ever so slightly. biting her lip and squeezing her thighs together, embarrassed by how much the shift in your mood is affecting her. shes still your baby tho so more than anything she loves when you dote on her, telling her how pretty she looks for you hehe. The second she sees that you’re actually starting to get pissed she starts acting all sweet and pouting at you. always saying the most sinful things with the most innocent look on her face, things like “you can touch me whenever you want” and “want your cock to split me open, please” with her signature eye smile as if what she just said isn’t making you painfully hard 😵‍💫

she really is a sweetie at heart but she’s always up to something.. glancing at you every now and then before finally waltzing up to you and plopping down on your lap. kissing softly across your neck and jawline (wony is definitely pushy and needy when it comes to kissing) before slotting her knee between yours, grinding down against your knee. 

“wan’ you to fuck me please mommy, want you to spank my cunt till its raw and-“

not even letting her finish her sentence before you’re almost knocking her over with how quickly you stand up, dragging her by the arm to your bedroom and pushing her towards the bed. 

yanking at the front of her button up baby tee, hearing her whine about how she doesn’t want you to rip it but you really could not care less about that  right now 😭 wonyoung gasping when you start landing slaps against her now exposed tits, arching up into your touch. your hand coming down harshly against her chest again and again, her tits bright red as she throws her head back in a moan. tears flowing down her cheeks as you play with her sensitive nipples, pinching the buds between your fingers. pulling her by the ankles toward the end of the bed n making her skirt ride up putting her soaked panties on display.

it starts out playfully enough. swatting at her ass and thighs that are on display thanks to that ridiculously short skirt she’s wearing (it’s one of your favorites). wonyoung giggling, bottom lip caught between her teeth when you ask,

“wore this for me didn’t you?”

grabbing you by the wrist to place your hand against her,  

“be rough please, wanna be sore afterwards”

Practically tearing what little clothes she has on off of her after that and immediately spanking her Hard across her leaking pussy, body jerking sharply when you land a slap against her clit 😵‍💫 letting your hand rest against her bare pussy for a few seconds after each slap 

“keep your legs spread, doll”

the slaps on her cunt getting increasingly rougher, wonyoung mumbling out ‘sorrys’ every time she accidentally closes her legs bc of the pain 🥺 resorting to holding the backs of her knees to keep her legs open, making it all that much easier to spank her aching clit. quietly hiccuping as fat tears roll down her cheeks, the poor baby. moaning and shaking all the same bc it just hurts so good,

“awe hurts huh baby?” there are tears in her eyes as wonyoung nods at your words. “you’re gonna cum though. gonna cum from the pain, slut??” the question makes her nod her head faster before letting out a sob. she’s getting to the end of her rope, the desperation to cum continuing to build. 

drool spilling out of wonyoungs mouth, the obscene sound your hand makes as it comes in contact with her wet cunt and her whines filling the room, pussy all red and abused, your dick straining against your compression shorts at the sight 😵‍💫 alternating between slapping her pussy and her thighs has her mumbling incoherently,

“please- fuck- please need you inside me, pleasepleaseplease-”

You really can’t deny her when she’s begging so nicely 🥺 wonyoungs pupils blown wide when you finally start to strip, grabbing at your waist when you slot your dick between her folds, crying in relief when you finally bottom out and setting a punishing pace 🥴 wonyoung begging you not to stop inbetween sobs, mouth hanging open as she watches the bulge in her tummy appear and disappear as you piston your dick into her. body going slack when you move her into a mating press position, wonyoung almost screams your hand comes into contact with her swollen clit, playing with the spent bundle of nerves 🫠 her moaning when you praise her for how well she’s taking you, promising to fill her up as a reward for how well she’s doing,,

“mommys gonna breed you full m’kay, bunny”

placing her ankles on your shoulders, her legs shaking from the angle making you piston yourself even deeper inside the knot in your stomach growing with each stroke. wonyoungs cunt clamping down around your cock, whining out a drawn out “fuckfuckfuck” as she squirts 🥴 one hand around her neck while you keep fucking into her, finally coming undone and filling her up like you promised, pressing down on her lower tummy n watching your cum spill out of her spent hole while she looks up at you doe eyed and everything ackk

[jjkthrow]

Virginity loss🍒 ASK: can you write sukuna geto and ino taking your virginity but a bit more realistic.

I didn’t finish this bc I’m moving accounts but….I never see anything for my poor guy Ino! Anyway ya first time kinda sucks, foreplay and a trusted partner definitely plays an important role. The anxiety over failure to perform, hurting your partner/getting hurt, not being good enough looking, having an embarrassing moment, or even just being emotionally overwhelmed. Western society put more pressure on it than should be. Rushing into sex is stupid, it doesn’t matter if you wait to become sexually active and having a body count means nothing. You are not worth any less because of how many people you’ve been with. Raised in a “you’re a disgrace if you don’t wait until marriage” family. Really did wonders for my self esteem. I didn’t end up writing for Sukuna since honestly I think he’d be a terrible partner unless you were sexually experienced and into some really freaky shit.

Minors DNI 18+ smut below cut

Takuma Ino: Takuma was not particularly experienced himself. His hands shook slightly while unclasping your bra, taking more than a moment to blindly undo the hooks. He slides his hands from your rip cage to your hips. His callused hands rough on your soft skin. He pushes you forward slightly so you’re reclining on your arms. Turning your head to the side so he can nip down your neck, softly squeezing and jiggling your breasts. Enjoying the sensory stimulation of your pliant flesh.

Sitting back on his heels he pulls down his boxers and tosses them aside. He doesn’t dwell on the moment, moving to open his side drawer, and pulling out a foil wrapper that shined in the moon light. You can’t see his cock well in the dark bedroom, you’ve touched his length before, it’s about average size, but the inability to see it at this moment causes you some anxiety. Takuma ripped open the wrapper, sending the latex circle flying onto the floor. He lets out a nervous laugh and grabs it off the carpet, blowing off any cat hair it may have landed on. “That’s disgusting.” You say with raised eyebrows and a bite of humor in your voice. “It’s fine, the only kitty hair I’m interested in is yours” he’s says lightly, knowing it was a terrible joke, but making you feel a bit more comfortable. He’s always the same idiot. You give him a blank stare of mock annoyance, pursing your lips at his playfulness.

Grabbing his length, he pinches the end of the condom and rolls it on until he reaches the base. Guiding his hands up your thighs he gently parts your straightened stiff legs. Kneeling in between your legs he leans down, face to face, hooking his arms under your thighs to prop your knees into a bending position. You feel a bit uncomfortable, the only thing hiding your privacy was Takuma in between your legs. You jolt when you feel his covered length tap your vulva. Hanging heavy against your skin, still radiating heat through the latex covering. “Um-I’m gonna kiss you now” he says as he’s nose to nose with you. You become self aware that you have been clenching your jaw. “Oh, right” you blush, closing your eyes and leaning up to meet his lips. Allowing him to push you into the kiss, flattening you onto the bed under him.

Your hands hold his torso gently, fingertips pressing into his body, you feel goosebumps on his skin form from your touch. Your kiss escalating until he’s grinding on you, your mouth trying to envelop his, moving in tandem. Takuma props himself up on his hands, pulling away from your kiss. He grabs his cock and guides it against you, taking a few tries to find your hole in the dark room. “Hey!” You exclaim when he accidentally touches your ass. “Sorry sorry, give me a moment” he replies hastily trying to not look completely oblivious.

He uses his other hand to find your folds and spreads them, the prodding feels foreign and not very sexy at all. Pushing the tip against your entrance he slides his hips forward, pulling out a little and pushing back in when he faces resistance. By no means is he rough, but you cringe at the lack of smoothness. Feeling a sort of rug burn sensation from the latex sticking to your skin, even despite your wetness. You should’ve used lube. The stretch burns and you feel his cock tap your cervix momentarily which causes you to grunt in discomfort. Your cervix will recede as you become more aroused, but the tension of the situation has affected your body despite its evident desire. “Can we pause here a moment?” You ask quietly.

“Y-ya of course, does it feel ok? Was I too rough?” He questions with genuine worry. “I just need a moment” you reply taking a deep breath. The next few seconds are quiet, just holding onto him as he awkwardly stares at your face. ….TBC?

Suguru Geto:

You’re sitting on Suguru’s lap, rocking your hips on him as he sits reclined against the sofa. Your kiss is breathy and desperate, he holds your hips tightly as if you’d float away if he didn’t. He flexes his fingers trying to draw blood away from his crotch but it’s impossible with you grinding against him. You break from the kiss panting and he looks up at you half lidded, hair slightly disheveled from you yanking at it. You feel a wave of sparks roll from your stomach to your womb. Without a word spoken, you move into nip at his jaw, licking down his neck until he reach his collar bone where you suck softly, covering him in hickeys. Suguru pushes you back for a moment and pulls his shirt over his head then moves back in you kiss you before you even have time to admire his fit body. Spit and drool covers your chin uncomfortably and you draw back again to wipe it off. A trail of saliva connecting your mouths.

Suguru bunches the hem of your shirt in his hands, giving you a minute to understand his intent before he pulls It over your head. You lift your arms so he can get it off the rest of the way, then pushing you down so you’re laying under him. “Do you want to keep going?” He pants into your ear, you nod chest heaving. He’d rather you use your words but he wasn’t going to push it. You had voiced your worries and embarrassment, this had been a running conversation, approaching intimate acts little by little. Unable to reach the back of your bra from under you he opts to pull it over your head. You have to wiggle a little boobs jostling freely, your hair getting caught in one of the hooks for a moment. “Ow ow ow” you whine reaching to pull your hair free, but before you can get there he’s already pulling the tresses from the hooks. “Got it” he murmurs, tossing it aside, taking a moment to look into your eyes. You feel like he’s evaluating your soul and you blush, breaking eye contact.

Suguru gently redirects your face towards him so he can continue your make out session. Your hands roaming his chest, feeling all the way down, following the trail of hair down to his pants. You palm his bulge softly though his black jeans. He kisses his way down your neck until he arrives at your breasts, glancing upward at your face momentarily to gauge your reaction. Promptly he takes your left nipple in his mouth, and your right breast in his hand. Your hands shoot up to grab his shoulders, head falling back as his tongue gently swirls around the soft skin of your areola. Suguru takes the tip of his finger and gently places it on the top of your nipples, his tongue mirroring the actions and he gently pushes it in circles, eliciting a groan from you. You want more. Now.

You hips press off the sofa bumping into his erection, he rubs it against you pushing your hips down with his own. Nipping gently with his teeth, fingers twisting your nipple in his grasp. He removes his mouth leaving you wet with his spit and he gives your breasts and rough squeeze. “I think we should move this to the bedroom” he pauses for a moment “unless you’d like to stop here.” You’re already sitting up to change locations before he can’t ask any other questions. You walk in front of him wordlessly, feeling a bit uncomfortable and self conscious.

Before you can make it to the mattress he grabs you from behind and tosses you on it, you give a little shriek of surprise then giggle. Play wresting for a moment, rolling around on the blankets. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he says staring into your eyes, changing the mood in the air instantly. “I want you to take me tonight, take my innocence” you confess voice shaking slightly.

“I would be honored” he says lightly “though not sure if I’d call you particularly innocent” he adds unbuttoning his pants and discarding them on the floor. You could see his erection prominently in his fitted boxer briefs. Sugurus large hands reach down and cover your breasts, giving a first squeeze, playing with them a moment before he gently trails his fingers down your stomach in feather light touches. Once he gets to the hem of your pants he grabs them and pulls, forcing you towards the end of the bed with them. “Don’t tease me” you snip at him, earning a soft chuckle from deep in his chest. He pulls your tight pants down which pulls your panties with them. You had never gone this far and you let out a quiet peep of suprise and embarrassment. “Ah sorry” He says not meaning to take everything off at once. He pulls your pants off the rest of the way rather than fight to separate your underwear and pull it back on.

You feel very exposed suddenly, you’ve sent him naked photos, and he’s touched you but always opting to stick his hand down your pants than to strip you, noting your usual hesitance. You sit up and cover yourself with your hands, he throws a blanket over you for a moment, shielding your body. “I just need a minute, we’ve never-I’ve never” you start and he interrupts you with a soft and reassuring “I know” he can see you trying to slow your breathing, you feel a little light headed. An anxiety attack? Now?!

He says nothing, but flops down next to you, allowing his hand to rest against yours until you’re comfortable enough to voice what you want. Slightly disappointed but not upset with you if you chose to stop here. You close your eyes as your nerves die down “I want to just get this over with” you groan knowing the suspense is exasperating things. “I’m not going to continue if you won’t let me get you ready first. You won’t be comfortable and that makes me uncomfortable” he says soothingly, laying on his side to talk to you face to face. You purse your lips looking away for a moment then nod for him to keep going.

“Nothing we haven’t done before” he whispers in your ear, still next to you, reaching his hand down in between the sheets, gently pushing your hand aside when you go to cover yourself. He licks your neck, nuzzling into your affectionately. Fingers running through your pubic hair and around your vuvla, gradually touching your labia, assessing your wetness. He removes his fingers a moment to suck on them, granting proper lubricant when mixed with your slick, and gently prodding, pushing one finger into your cunt. Wiggling it gently to find its was inside. You shut your legs tight against his hand, but he sticks his knee in between yours to prop your legs open enough to give his hands access.

Despite Sugurus obvious knowledge it still initially feels more like a pelvic exam than anything enjoyable, using his thumb to graze your clit and whispering sweet nothings in your ear you feel yourself loosening against his touch. Slick running down your legs, beginning to rock your hips to his gentle thrusts. Removing his hand briefly he adds a second finger and curls them inside. Causing you to throw your head backwards and cry out his name. This earns a shit eating grin, your voice going straight to his throbbing cock.

“Wait I-“ you start to say panting and he withdrawals his fingers slowly. He wipes your discharge on the sheets and you can smell its pungent tang, causing you to grimace slightly. “I want to go down on you” you breathe out, sitting up a bit, blanket still covering your lap. He’s silent for a moment as if registering what you said. He cocks an eyebrow and you nod in response, sure of your request. He opens his drawer tearing open a new box of condoms and hastily removes his underwear. Covering his cock in the thin latex barrier. You stand and make your way in between his legs. You’ve given his a handjob but oral was more intimidating for you. You kneel in front of him, heart beating fast. “Just…don’t thrust into my throat please” you comment looking into his eyes as your hand holds the base, and you give unsure kitten licks to the covered tip. “I won-“ Suguru isn’t able to finish his sentence before you take the crown in your mouth. It takes you a moment to figure out what to do. Covering your teeth with your lips and sucking hard, you begin to bob your head. Tasting the rubber but able to feel the ridges and veins of his manhood with your tongue. Hand sliding along the base, the other gently fondling his balls, try to gauge his reaction to different stimuli’s ……TBC?

[a-little-lostmoon]

some LU headshots in my style for personal reference. subject to change bc drawing consistently is a bitch but overall i think i’m happy w them! (ignore the comic/writing idea in the upper right corner it may or may not be made into a full think idk yet—)

typed notes for each lu member + a little extra below cut

wild—

oval eyes

rounder oval ((ish)) face

amber earrings

healed scarring

androgynous

i tried to reference the boys’ canonical character models to individualize their features more. i love botw and totk sm but personally i’m not the hugest fan of the way the characters look for it? even so, i think the rounder sort of eye shape works really well for my wild

his colors specifically i drew to be a bit more sunset kissed/orangeish bc i was referencing a wild photo in which the time was sunset. thats abt it. but i think it’s really pretty on him so i’m probably just keeping that whenever i draw wild

warriors—

cheek bones/jawline

rounder ears

pointy eyes ((eyeliner that could stab a person))

cheek scar bc i felt like it

i stole away some of wars’ side fringes, forgive me i couldn’t decide whether i wanted them to cover up his jawline and chickened out. if anyone actually read the comic thing you’ll see smth abt the old man and wars talking abt how his hair parted to the other side of his face during the war. i made it to ‘vent my frustrations’ bc i drew his hair part referencing HW photos of link instead of LU wars and it’s now become my headcanon.

his hair color is vivid bc HW color pallet is pretty damn vivid and his eyes & earrings are a deeper blue to match his scarf. color coordination!

anw he’s a pretty boy so i made him pretty — that’s pretty much the rest i have to say abt that

time—

tired eyes

longest ears

(slight) rbf

both time & legend have half circle/oval eyes ((kind of. at least that’s what i tried to go for to give them a more worn/serious look))

i’m not the best with differentiating ages. i tried to make him look a bit more worn/oldest but i also wanted all of them to still carry some of that classic pretty boy link look. don’t have much else to say but he has the longest/angular ears bc fairy boy. let’s pretend four’s don’t look longer than his i drew him later and forgot

twilight—

<-takes more features from malon ((who i haven’t drawn yet so you don’t have any reference on that))

pretty boy face (wasn’t intentional but it is what it is)

twilight princess link is v pretty. twilights usually one of the more rugged (for lack of a better term) looking ones bc he’s among the taller ones/apart of the “adult” squad but i accidentally made him very pretty looking. oops. don’t know if that will remain consistent for him if i draw him more so we shall see

him and time share less features than i might’ve wanted? you can see a bit of time’s jaw in the way his face curves but overall they don’t share many features. again, he takes more after malon. but their hair textures are incredibly similar if that means anything

gave him jade studs bc they reminded him of midna and are practical enough that he can just keep them in the whole time (bc he will lose them or forget abt them if he takes them off)

sky—

rounder face

big eyes

lips

big ears

his hair color was a bitch to get right im not sorry i had to say it color is so hard to work with. in any case! skyward sword link has bigger looking eyes cus of the style and i just ran w that. his earrings are magenta to match sun’s dress but look red when the light catches them right (or wrong ig bc they look red in dim light too) just bc i realized his earrings were red to match his outfit/crimson.

sky and the next three (everyone sans wind) probly look the least off their character models

legend—

oval iris

full rbf

multiple piercings ((this is important for u to know))

longer narrow face & features

boy’s a strawberry blond bc i said so. and also legend purple eyes propaganda. i don’t know where exactly that originated but like i love it and im on board. he also has purple stud earrings he always keeps in — curious, isn’t it. he probably has more than i gave him but well, thats all i gave him. it gets the picture across. hc that legend realized he couldn’t get more fingers for his rings but he could get more piercings that could handle jewelry that did almost exactly the same thing. practicality!

also i couldn’t decide on legend’s hair length. its all hidden by that hat of his so i just… didn’t draw the back half portion of his hair. does that make my legend bald at the back of his head? you decide.

hyrule—

wide face narrow chin

freckles!!!

bigger earlobes

the earlobes is me projecting /hj but i tried to reference the og link’s face shape for him which idk if i like yet. he has freckles and more accent colors in his hair and eyes which is a subtle thing but a sorta maybe reference to his fairy magic. no piercings for him! i forgot them/didnt see them on og link and can’t really imagine when hyrule would ever get the time to pierce them so he and wind can do that together eventually to bond. legend will do it probly — he obviously has the experience and wild can’t be trusted (offered to pierce winds ears with a knife canonically)

wind—

big eyes

void eyes

big ears but rounder than skys

soft face

fluffy hair

wind’s 100 yard stare *does* things to the chain but none of them tell him that because he’d definitely use it to freak people out. i couldnt decide between going lighter sun bleached hair wind or bright blinding yellow toon link hair so i kind of meshed them together to create that. tried to make him the youngest looking

four—

symmetrical angles ((and then i drew a polygon quadrilateral bc thats the shape i used as a reference)) for cheeks and eyes

minish feather ((earring))

minish ears & nose

hime bangs

yk the picture of a minish that comes up when googled? thats what i used as a reference for his features. ears specifically, nose somewhat. four’s eyes are usually the greyish hazel color you get from mixing all of their colors together but i liked the split look for this piece more. his hair color is also wind’s but inverted so wind’s lights are four’s highlights and his darks make up the brunt of the base color as a slight reference to how it’s occasionally theorized/hc that wind is four’s descendant.

and the hime bangs were bc i wanted a little more “link side fringe” variation and i thought the sort of straight cut looked nice. hime bangs are not the right term tho bc he parts them to the side and doesn’t have that straight cut on his forehead but i’m too lazy to fight the correct term

— thank u for reading, go hydrate and eat if you have not <3

[tan1shere]

Venting

A/n: I'm writing this since I didn't feel like I fully executed a request so the anon who requested "New Chapter" this is for you angel ! You get double bc I'm a perfectionist... anyways hope you all enjoy !

Warnings - angsty ? Fluff and comfort ! || masterlist

What was it. Why was this feeling consuming you. Why, why. Why. You wanted to know, it was making you miserable all the God damn time. Frustrating you even. You hated being like this, around your friends, family. And especially your girlfriend. She had noticed the slight change in you recently. In your tone, mood. Attitude. You were sleeping more, eating a little less. But you seemed to be ok. Nothing was bothering you, that you knew of. You just felt glued to the comfortable bed.

It all started when you and her went over to Maggie and Patrick's for dinner. They had invited you both. Knocking on the door and being greeted by Maggie. "Hi girls." You give her a small smile. "Hi mama." Billie says, going to hug her. You notice her looking at you. "Are you ok sweetheart, you look a little unwell." Your brows furrow. "Yeah I'm perfectly fine."

Earlier

"First time you've probably left this bed this week." You bite the inside of your lip at that remark. Why did that bother you. Why. "Yup, probably the best thing." She then looks at you. "Speaking of that, is everything alright with you? You've seemed off the past few weeks. Like at Finneas' you weren't eating much." You shrugged. "Well it was only snacks and I wasn't as hungry." She saw through you always, she knew something was up.

-

"That's good then. Come come, I started cooking." And as you were about to Billie pulls you aside. "See, even my mother sees it-" "I'm fine, Bills. Let's just enjoy tonight." She sighs, following behind you. The dinner was normal until it wasn't- Your replies were dry. Not intentionally but you accidentally came off cold. What was going on with you. It was making you angry. But all you wanted to do was ignore it. Ignore these ransom feelings. Billie ends up giving you a look at something you say. "Y/n." She says, making you look at her.

"Can we talk?" You shrug, getting up when she does. "Whats up?" She puts her hands in her pockets. "What do you mean?" She gives you a confused look. "You've been dry towards my mother the whole evening, somethings going on." You sigh, going to go. "I'm fine." She grabs your wrist. "You're lying." "Billie.-" She now sighs. "Talk. To me." - "I promise you I'm fine I'm just a bit tired, please can we move on and go back in." Not one word did she believe.

She dumps the keys once she gets inside. The slight tension of what had happened, lingering. You immediately go up into your shared room, wanting the comfort of the bed again. "Y/n!" She says as she sprints after you. "Hey, now we are home can we please talk." - "Billie, there's nothing to talk about, I just wanna get into bed." She scoffs slightly. Making your heart twinge. You ignore it, changing and getting under the covers.

"Just talk to me! Something is clearly wrong!" "Well it's a little hard to when I don't even know what the fuck is wrong. I don't know why I'm becoming like this. It's been worrying me for the past few weeks. So no, I can't talk to you. When there's literally nothing to talk about!" She stares at you. Processing, then seeing your bloodshot eyes as they pool with tears. You look at her confused, unaware of both things. "What?" She even wanted to cry, hating that obviously something was bothering you deep down.

"Billie?" You question. She grabs your hands gently. "When did this start?" You shake your head really confused for some reason. "Huh?" "When. Did this start baby." Your eyebrows rest at the name, finding a comfort in it. Something you haven't been feeling lately. Comfortable. "Uhm, it was maybe 2 weeks ago nearly 3." She tries so hard to remember what happened back that far. Thinking, thinking. Thinking. Until she realized. "The article, everything after that." When it was finally said outloud you felt like crying.

It hit you, she was right it was the article. But you were fine after it, you didn't even care what people said about you, you knew your worth. Or did you? Maybe it was in the back of your mind all those tucked away feelings. "They're all just jealous." She assures. When something bubbles inside you. "It wasn't just the stuff they said about me. It was all the other stuff." You start to fully sob. It truly getting you like it should've all along, why has it taken so long. "All the stuff they said about our relationship.. how we wouldn't last, how- just because I'm not famous you'd eventually leave me."

The thought makes you cry more. "I guess I started believing them... In the back of my mind." Her eyes soften, reaching out for you. "Baby."

"That'll never, ever happen." Your tears flow heavy but her hands quickly go to wipe them. "What if you get sick of me Bill, I'm not spec-" She shakes her head immediately. "No. Because you're the most special thing in my life. If you weren't in it, fuck. I'd be lost. You keep me in check always when I'm lost in life. And now I'm determined to do the same for you." Your heart melts and you smile, finally that smile she loved was back. "Theres my girl. One day at a time we will get you back to your old self." - "I love you Billie thank you."

"No, thank you. For being mine."

[yesimwriting]

I keep thinking about your style of writing the reader in the movie challengers and my girl would NOT have a good time 💀

She would see this trio being lovey dovey with her and she would be so shy she would have a heart attack... She just wants to organize her sticky notes in alphabetic order leave her be.

Now if she was already in the friend group, she would totaly just get up and go to bed:

Trio: *on the verge of hooking up*

Reader: *yawns* would you look at that, well bye!

Trio: its not even midnight.

Reader: well, beauty sleep yk?

Trio:😔

ART:🥺

But also:

Art: we will be in eachothers life forever right?

Reader:duh! Your my friend 😀

Art: 🥺🥺

anon i can literally feel you understanding my writing, omg, we are so connected

however the trio is so hot and charming and good at flirting i fear it'd take an unnatural level of self control to not accidentally hook up with them

i agree that this scenario is definitely influenced by wether or not reader is already friends with them, so let's take a second to talk about both:

if reader wasn't really friends with them first, i can see her going to tashi's party. she starts talking to tashi to congratulate her, and then patrick and art invite both of them over.

tashi and her joke about it, but when tashi says she wants to go, reader's already regretting her life choices. she's finally making a (very pretty, very intimidating) tennis friend, she can't back out.

it'd start off so calm, everyone passing around a beer, and reader feeling like drinking during a tournament is already rebellious of her. maybe patrick hands her his cigarette and she takes a drag bc she's convinced she can pass off being this chill person.

she's even fine when art rests his hand on her knee for a little. everything feels light, friendly. and then patrick tells that story about teaching art how to jerk off, and reader's still not overly affected bc she's not directly involved. for a beat, she even thinks it's kind of cute that art's flustered.

and then tashi gets on the bed and there's an immediate switch in energy. reader immediately knows the window to leave without being labeled 'weird' or a 'mood killer' is slowly closing. so she mentions the time, and when anyone tries to get her to stay, art is for sure the one that helps her out. he's a sweetheart like that <3

art agrees that it's late, and would probably even offer to walk her back to her room. or, if things didn't feel too tense, he might ask her if she wants to go with him to get some ice and stay for one more beer. a subtle reset to help protect reader's boundaries. he's so bf material, i'm sorry.

----

now, if reader was already friends with them:

i feel like if patrick and art had a close girl friend, hotel room would not be the first time they came close to hooking up 😭. even though reader is still shy, there's a familiarity between them that has her feeling secure.

bc she knows them, she can tell when they're in a bit of a flirtier mood. patrick's hand is on her knee and art rests his chin on her shoulder, all while they're giggling and kicking their feet at everything tashi says. reader's spider senses start tingling. thirsty bitches.

her first thought is: 'i didn't hook up with you guys at my high school graduation, and i'm not hooking up with you guys now.'

i think the main difference if she's already friends with them is that reader feels a little more comfortable slipping out. there's a bit less social pressure bc they're already friends, so there's less pretending.

patrick would probably be more comfortable teasing her if they were already friends. he'd be touchier, asking reader if she'd sit with him for a few more minutes, and then he'd walk her back to her room. scout's honor.

art's quicker to pick up on reader being uncomfortable if they're already friends. he's going out with her to get ice and asking her if she's feeling okay. if she seems extra shy or like she feels bad for not being super okay with everything, art will probably stay out with her a bit. he'll talk to her about stuff she likes and then walk back to her room.

i love your side note about art and reader's dynamic, he'd find everything so endearing. like, yes, reader is the one making promises to be in art's life forever without a second thought. that is his very necessary second emotional support best friend that he pines after.

he's making sure everyone leaves her to her color coded sticky notes and tennis practice if that's what she wants!

[terresdebrume]

Work is kinda hectic rn, my knees are NOT liking how much traveling between floors I have to do, and I am missing sleep like crazy so my WIPs are staying largely untouched but I HAD to push out this concept for a maybe-someday fic in the I'm down on my knees universe

Written for the free square day of @painlandweek . Have some hurt/comfort ft Charles and how he feels about his mum. Also belatedly tagging @ghostinthelibrarywrites bc I think you'll enjoy it and I accidentally posted a thing that was meant to stay a draft again xD

Charles is sitting on the doorstep. It's almost eight PM on a weeknight, Edwin is just back from a fun-study session—which is really just Maren's way of saying she wants beer with her textbooks—tired, brain swimming with texts of law, and more than a little tipsy... And Charles Rowland is sitting on his doorstep. His building's doorstep. The difference is irrelevant.

Caught off guard, Edwin blinks, and stares at Charles.

He is curled up on the ground, spine back in that parenthesis shape it had back in school. His elbows are on his knees, hands buried into the hair at the back of his neck, his eyes closed. Edwin takes in the tension in Charles' shoulders, the way the fading sunlight catches the green vines tattooed on his left forearm, the slow, deliberate depth of movement around his ribcage, and decides against calling out to him. Instead, Edwin walks up to him until Charles can no longer ignore the footsteps, and waits for him to speak.

"Hi," Charles says, muffled, from between his elbows.

"Hi," Edwin replies, chest twisting when the last hope he had that Charles was just a bit tired evaporates like rhum from a flambé.

He steps forward again, then ignores the fresh layer of summer dust on the steps and sits down next to Charles, deliberately picking a position that makes their hips and shoulders touch. Charles leans into it immediately, turning a light contact into solid pressure, and Edwin sighs. Things could be worse.

"I did not expect you tonight," Edwin prompts, trying to make himself as gentle as he can.

Tuesday nights are when Charles and Niko's dance classes take place. Edwin has never known either of them to miss one, so Charles' presence here is one more sign that whatever is going on is not to be taken lightly. As if to confirm Edwin's suspicions, Charles sighs, and mumbles:

"I ran into my mum."

Edwin freezes. For some reason, in the few months since he and Charles reunited, it never quite clicked for him that Charles' parents, for all that Charles hasn't had any contact with them for nearly eight years now, exist in the same world they do. London is such a large, dense city, it is easy to make your life in a corner of it and never step outside its boundaries. Edwin's parents certainly treat Kensington like an insular country only worth leaving for the richer shores of Mayfair, when they deign to visit the capital at all. Just like Edwin and Charles existed less than ten minutes away from each other for months without having a clue, the possibility of him running into Mr. or Mrs. Rowland by accident did not even cross Edwin's mind. Nor Charles', from the look of things.

"That must have been a shock," Edwin says.

He does not know enough to infuse more feelings into his response. Charles, for all that he shares his smiles, his affections and the chief of his worldly possessions freely, has remained incredibly tight lipped about his past. The summary of what Edwin knows of Charles' youth is quite easy to make.

Fact the first: at the age of sixteen, not one term into his stay at St. Hilarion's School for Boys, Charles Rowland jumped into a pool full of a deadly allergy trigger to save Edwin's life.

Fact the second: for the remainder of that school year, Charles endeavoured to make Edwin's life as painless as possible. His presence remains, by far, the brightest highlight of Edwin's adolescence.

Fact the third: at the age of seventeen, or near enough, Charles ran away from what he described as a bad home situation exactly once and proceeded never to mention again. It is Edwin's understanding that Charles may have escaped with nothing but the clothes on his back that day.

Two of those facts, Edwin knows because he was a direct witness to them, and the third was only shared with him because he accidentally made it an implicit condition to renewing his acquaintance with Charles.

Charles Rowland is not an emotional sharer, and Edwin is sort of at a loss.

"Yeah," Charles mumbles after a beat. "It was a bloody shock alright."

Edwin bites on his bottom lip, resisting the urge to push his fists together.

"Would you like to talk about it?" He asks, hoping his voice conveys the appropriate mixture of care and caution.

Charles shrugs, sniffing and rubbing his face against one of his forearms. Edwin bites his lip a little harder, and cautiously raises his right hand to place it on Charles' back. He feels and sees the muscles tense, Charles arching his back like an angry cat for the half second it takes Edwin to take his hand back.

"I apologize," he says, hand hovering uselessly above Charles' shoulder blades, "I wanted—"

"Neck's fine," Charles mumbles, low enough that Edwin almost misses it.

He swallows thickly, pausing when the upstairs neighbors walk by with puzzled faces. Edwin doesn't quite glare at them but it's a near thing, and he turns back to Charles the second they're out of view.

"Alright," he says. "Neck, then."

He only touches two fingers to the nape of Charles' neck at first, trying to keep it light, but that makes Charles tense again so he changes to a more present grip, palm flat and only just brushing with the edge of Charles' hair. Charles doesn't move into it this time, but he doesn't flinch away either. Edwin feels Charles take a deep, soundless breath, like a swimmer before a dive, and braces.

"I. She asked how I was," he exhales at last, and the wind rushes out of Edwin's lungs with a punched out sound. "I haven't seen her in over seven years and she—"

Charles takes a shuddering breath, sharp and painful sounding, and his voice sounds utterly broken when he says:

"He used to beat me up, you know."

Edwin, who hadn't known but kept the possibility in his mind like a bad thorn, bites down on a sympathetic hiss and leans a little harder against Charles instead, stretching so he can lean his forehead against the back of Charles' skull.

"Charles, I'm so sorry," he murmurs, free hand grasping around until it can find the jut of Charles' left knee, and wrap his fingers around it, squeezing with as much reassurance as he can muster.

He wishes, abruptly, that he'd thought to take Charles inside before he started this talk. They both deserve better than the front step of Edwin's building, where another pair of neighbors gawks at them as they walk past. Yet, now that they're here, Edwin wouldn't cut Charles off for all the gold in the world. He fears with an intensity he didn't know he was capable of, that interrupting Charles now would send him back into his usual reserve, and Edwin knows with absolute certainty that he will go to great lengths to prevent that from happening.

"She never—every time he did it," Charles says, almost choking on the words, "she'd just stand—she didn't do anything! And now—now she—"

A long fit of coughing cuts Charles off, wracking his body and shaking Edwin's head even as he tightens his hold on Charles, as if he could make up for his childhood with how much he loves him.

"I'm so sorry," he tells Charles. "You deserved so much better."

Charles' cough subsides, melting into shuddering, soundless sobs that Edwin wants to take into his ribs and hide from the rest of the world. He straightens up and, as gently as he can, guides Charles to lean against him harder until his frame his half cradled in Edwin's arms.

"It's not bloody fair," Charles manages between sobs, gulping air like he's drowning, shaking against Edwin.

Edwin breathes in, tears crowding at the corner of his eyes, and holds Charles closer. He wishes, so desperately, that he could love him enough to erase the past and make all the pain go away.

"I love you," he says instead, recklessly, pressing a kiss into the side of Charles' hair. "I know it doesn't make anything better, but I love you."

They sit like this for a long time, Charles crying and Edwin rocking him lightly like a child, until things finally calm down enough that Charles is ready to go upstairs for tea. They drink it out of the blue mugs Monty bought when he and Edwin moved in, quietly sitting on the couch in one of those strange bubbles of relieved fragility that comes after a crisis. For a long while, they sit in silence on Edwin's couch.

Then Charles sighs, long and tired, and leans sideways until he can rest his head on Edwin's shoulder, one arm looping around his waist.

"I love you too, mate," he sighs, making Edwin freeze. "And it does make things better that you love me."

Edwin, his heart singing from Charles' declaration and bleeding from the way he meant it, nods, and drinks his tea.

[im-robins-bitch]

Hii,

If your up for it could u write a fruity four x reader imagine based off of the song tongues and teeth by the crane wives where reader runs into a ex that used to treat them horribly and made them believe that all they could do was hurt other people triggering those old feelings leading them to pull away from Steve, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy

(Sorry for the long ask 🤍)

Poison (fruity four x g!n reader)

Or, You run into your ex and find yourself reflecting on your past self, do you deserve the love you find yourself surrounded with? (3.4k)

Anon, Sorry this took so long, I love the Crane Wives sm I was really excited by this request so I wanted to make it perfect and then it accidentally got really long and filled with irrelevant scenes that I had to scrap and will probably be posted at some point. I hope you like it lmk <3 Thank you so much for the request

Reader was in a toxic, abusive relationship (No scenes of this relationship and it is only briefly mentioned that it was abusive). Reader in this fic was mentioned to be an asshole in the past, but it's up to you whether she truly was or if she just thinks that bc of their ex.

Warnings: mentions of toxic, abusive relationships. Reader thinks she deserved to be hurt, the ex now has a baby. Ex threw things at the reader. Food, depictions of cooking and eating.

“You remember the voices Eddie taught you?” 

Steve sighs into his bowl of lucky charms, stirring the spoon around restlessly. His cereal had gone soggy, something he hated, but he hadn’t had a single spoonful since he sat down. 

“I remember,” He mumbled, looking at the milk in his bowl as if it would conjure up all the answers of the universe for him. You rub a warm hand up and down his back to try and soothe him, it works, a bit. 

Then Eddie's head is poking over Steve’s shoulder, eyeing Steve’s bowl in a way that you know means trouble. Instead of the usual playful spat, that always ends with Steve reluctantly sharing his bowl of cereal, Steve passes Eddie the spoon without argument. 

Eddie kisses his cheek sweetly, rubbing his nose into the chub of his cheek before digging in. “Wanna give us a taste?” Eddie questions, mouth full. 

Steve’s cheeks are pink as he shakes his head, his perfectly styled hair not moving an inch. You can taste all the hairspray he’s used this morning. You keep your warm palm against his back, hoping some of it will seep into his bones and make him a little less tense. 

He’s been like this all week and you know he won’t be able to relax until the day is over. Getting a placement at a kindergarten had been all Steve had talked about all year, all he had been looking forward to. Now it was happening, he was terrified. 

Today was make or break, it was his first attempt at a storytime. 

He had spent a long time researching books with Nancy and had rehearsed reading the book to you and Robin and had practised his voices with Eddie. You thought all this made him overqualified for the position. 

There couldn’t be a person out there who cared so much about this. It was just Steve all over, he cared so much. He loved so much. It made you want to swaddle him in your arms and keep him safe forever. 

“If any of those punks make fun of you let me know and I’ll kick their ass,” Eddie garbled around another mouthful of lucky charms. 

“You think they’ll make fun of me,” Steve worried, his first clenching around the countertop. 

“Eddie!” Nancy chided. Eddie almost lept from his seat at Nancy’s sudden appearance. She stood in the doorway, as perfect as ever. Brown briefcase held tightly in her hand, her blazer hanging perfectly on her small frame. “You’re overthinking this Steve, it’ll be fine,” Nancy assured, kissing the top of Steve’s head. “And for the last time Eddie, no kicking children,” 

“Some kids deserve it” He argues.

“Ready?” Nancy asks you, ignoring Eddie, much to his annoyance.

You cast a wary look at Steve, you were reluctant to leave him alone like this, but you were the girl’s lift to work, so you had to trust Eddie would find a better way to comfort your boyfriend than his current tactic. 

“Ready” You confirmed, checking your reflection quickly in the toaster. 

Nancy pressed a kiss to the back of Eddie's head, eyelashes fluttering against his frizzy hair. Then she moved to Steve, lips lingering a little longer on his cheek.

“Ro-”

“Here!” Robin yelled, interrupting Nancy’s call of her name. She had a reputation for being late that she was trying to put behind her. 

“Let's go!” Nancy sang, holding your arm in one hand and wrapping her other around Robin’s waist to pull her towards the door. 

“Good luck Steve!” The three of you called together.

-

You’re still thinking about Steve and wondering how his story time went as you’re organising the vinyl at work. You wonder if you should call him, trying to remember when the kid's nap time is so you can get him on the phone. You don’t want to interrupt, but you can’t help but worry about him. 

In between thoughts of Steve, you’re trying to keep track of which ABBA albums need to be restocked.

You’re so busy thinking of ways to celebrate or cheer him up in case of disaster, that you miss the chime of the bell.

“Still working here huh?” You freeze at the familiar voice, all thoughts leaving your mind. The one voice you wished you’d never have to hear again. “Some people just aren’t meant to change I guess,” 

You stand up, brushing off the dust on your knees. You hate how you’re immediately flooded with embarrassment. “Can I help you?” You ask in the friendliest voice you can muster. 

They take it in offence, hands held aloft in surrender, “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it, you really haven’t changed at all,” They laugh, your heart beating faster in your chest at the sound of it. You hate how they still have such an effect on you. 

“Did you want something?” You ask again, colder this time. Letting the hatred you feel seep through. Your arms, crossed over your chest, erupt in goosebumps. You can feel your heartbeat like it’s in your ears, pounding again and again. It’s an effort to remember how to breathe without it sounding rugged. 

You were both bad for each other, that’s what you settled on after the fact. They would tear you to shreds and act as if you were the one in the wrong. You could be just as cruel, the relationship was a toxic one and it turned you both sour. 

 It took so many nights of talking and looking back on the relationship to realise that you didn’t need to be the person they painted you to be. You hadn’t been perfect, no one was, but you felt you had learnt from your mistakes and hoped they had done the same. 

 “Thought we could have an adult conversation, but obviously not,” They sneered, tone condescending. 

They looked around the store you’re usually proud of with disdain. “God, I’m so fucking glad we broke up,” They laugh, flicking the sleeve of a vinyl, making you scowl. You feel the same but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “My life has been so much better ever since you left it,” 

It’s like a dagger to the chest. If you were in your right mind, maybe you would wonder why if they felt like that they would seek you out. Especially since they don’t even bother to buy anything before they leave.

-

When Robin had last seen you, you were pushing her out of the car, trying to stifle your giggles. 

In her rush to get out of the house on time, she forgot her scarf. You had bundled her up in your own which looked ridiculous. Eddie had knitted it for you, but then he got so caught up in seeing how long he could make it that when you wore it, it went down past your knees. 

You thought it looked great, but it was a bit of a tripping hazard so when it came to Robin you wrapped it around her neck over and over until it was an appropriate length. Only she couldn’t move her neck to look down. You had been laughing at her the whole drive, much to her annoyance. 

Now all she wanted was for you to look at her and laugh, but you didn’t even spare her a glance when she walked into the house, or when she unspooled the long scarf from around her neck. 

You’re still in your work clothes, even though you must have gotten home an hour ago at least. The TV is playing credits, but you’re watching them like they’re the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. 

All she wants to do is touch you. She restrains herself though, she knows people don’t always want to be touched and it can make things worse. 

As if you can tell that she’s about to ask you something, you change channels and turn up the volume on the TV. You lean against the side of the sofa, further out of her reach and feign interest in a Miami Vice episode. 

Getting the message she leaves you to it and joins Steve and Nancy in the kitchen, who are chatting over the kitchen counter. Nancy has already started making a pot of soup. 

Steve is dutifully making grilled cheese sandwiches and plain slices of toast. They work in unison, Nancy passing Steve the butter before he even needs to ask, Steve wrapping one arm around her hip when he joins her on the hob, warming up the pan so he can toast the bread. 

He’s left two cheese toasties to the side, to be grilled when Eddie gets home. 

“Not waiting?” Robin asks, catching the pair's attention. Nancy smiles, wordlessly passing her wooden spoon to Steve who accepts it without question. She holds Robin tightly in her arms, pressing kisses to her cheeks. She didn’t realise how much she needed a hug until now and how much better it would make her feel after your rejection. 

“Thought some food might cheer everyone up,” Nancy explains, nodding towards the living room. Robins nods, squeezing Nancy back, hoping she won’t let go of her anytime soon. 

“Did she say anything?” Steve asks, looking away from the soup briefly. 

Robin shakes her head sadly and Nancy makes a sympathetic noise in her ear, rubbing her manicured hand up and down Robin’s back. “What about you?” Robin asks Nancy.

“Nothing,” Nancy sighs, pulling away from Robin when she realises that Steve has stopped stirring her soup. She bats his hand away and hip-checks him out of the way, deciding to take charge again. At least that's something she has control over. 

The rest of the dinner is made in relative silence, Robin sets out the cutlery on the living room table, along with everyone’s preferred drinks. At one point Robin can tell you’re about to make an excuse not to eat at all, but a raised brow from Nancy has you sinking to the floor.

Robin’s eyes have been nervously flickering from her soup to you. She’ll see your lips part for a moment like you’re about to say something, but you close them just as fast, swallowing down soup and tearing at your bread. 

You all eat hunched over the living room table, Eddie is missed even more than ever as silence haunts the table. No one can work out what to say.

You can feel yourself putting a dampener on everything but feel so shaken from the interaction this afternoon that it’s all that you can think about. You’ve heard people say their exes were the worst things that happened to them, but you never thought you would have been one of those. 

Had you truly been that bad?

When Nancy leans over to grab your hand you smile at her or attempt to. Then when she lets go your hand sinks off the table and down to your thigh out of reach. 

What if one day they thought about you like that? What if one day they’re glad that you broke up? They continue without you, happier without you. 

It’s then that you remember, to your horror, all about Steve’s story time. The cake you had planned to buy him in celebration.  How could you be so selfish, forgetting about something Steve had been worried about for so long? 

“How did story time go?” You ask, timidly. 

Robin and Nancy are patient, but Steve has never been. He’s going out of his mind with worry. Perhaps it's because he’s suddenly lost a girlfriend before. Thought she had loved him the way he loved her until she pulled the rug out from under his feet and told him it wasn’t working and that they were nothing. 

It took so long for him to come back from that, even though he’s over the girl who said it, he still occasionally fears that all this love could be fleeting.  

He smiles, abandoning the last of his toastie to thread his greasy fingers between your own. They slip against your hand and when he squeezes, he tries to push as much love into it as he can. “It went really well,”

“Yeah?” You ask more enthusiastically. Steve’s smiles have always been contagious. The pretty curve of his smile and the movement of his freckles as his cheeks apple, it’s the kind of smile that makes you believe in love at first sight.

“Mrs Lemon wants me to read again tomorrow,” Steve grins. 

Everyone at the table erupts in excitement at Steve’s news. Robin drops the last bit of her toastie into her soup and has to fish it out with her spoon, fingers turning red in her attempts. Nancy's hand rubs up and down Steve’s thigh, in congratulations for his good news and for bringing you out of your melancholy. 

Robin has you hold up her glass to her lips so she can take a sip of water without getting her soupy fingers all over the glass. It causes her to dribble water all over the table and she can’t even find it in her to be embarrassed when it results in giggles and your fingers brushing across her chin to catch the drips. 

When everyone finished you’re quick to gather everyone's bowls and dismiss any help. You want to feel useful after sulking on the sofa while everyone else has made dinner. 

-

This whole weekend you had been a whirlwind of productivism. Unless Eddie was forcing you to sit on the sofa with his head in your lap, you were doing something for someone else. Any errand anyone was putting off was finished by you that weekend. You had gotten the juice stains out of Steve’s jumper, sewn up the hole in Robin’s jacket pocket, reorganised Nancy’s toiletry cupboard and buffed her briefcase. Eddie had to coerce you into a cuddle to stop you from sewing up the holes in his favourite socks. 

He hadn’t attended last night's dinner but had heard all about it from a concerned Nancy and spent the whole weekend attached at your side. 

He did everything one-handed, not wanting to spend a second not touching you. It was so out of character for you to be so withdrawn. Steve and Robin assumed it was a bad day or more specifically a bad customer. 

Nancy and Eddie had a gut feeling it was something more important. You didn’t often keep things to yourself, you found talking about problems usually stopped them from bothering you so much. If whatever happened hadn’t felt fixable to you by a rant and a cuddle, something must have happened. 

Eddie wanted to be there, ready, for when you wanted to tell him. He never wanted anyone to feel as alone as he once felt, drowning in his worries, before his uncle took him in. 

Nancy, though claiming she was taking a more relaxed approach, glanced at you about every two seconds, checking your reactions. 

So when you had said you needed to go out to the store, Nancy and Eddie shared a look and insisted they both needed to come with you. Eddie for some smokes and Nancy for a specific body lotion she claimed would be too hard for you to find. 

They were so obvious it would be annoying if they weren’t so endearing. 

-

You ended up in Bradleys.

You had been antsy to get in, buy the cake you planned to get for Steve on Friday and then transform yourself into the partner your lovers deserved. 

Instead, Eddie had taken his sweet time driving you all there, even though normally he called the speed limit a suggestion. Then he convinced you that you needed to walk up and down each aisle to make sure you didn’t ‘forget’ anything. It would have been an accomplishment to forget anything when you only have one item to obtain each. 

The basket hooked on one arm, you hooked through the other,  Eddie was strutting down the isles bobbing his head along to the pop songs he ‘hated’. Even though Eddie’s reasoning was ridiculous, it did feel relaxing to take your time walking through the various aisles together. 

Eddie’s fingers were tracing up and down Nancy’s spine as she held two types of tea in her hand, reading the backs carefully. “Do you think these work?” She asked, holding out the packages for you to inspect, two different teas both promising to help with sleep.

You took one out of her hands, to inspect the ingredient list. Robin’s mum had said something about lavender last time you had spoken, but you weren’t sure that was digestible. 

“If you need help sleeping, I’ve got the perfect solution” Eddie teased, arms snaking around Nancy’s waist and squeezing as he dipped his face against her neck. Nancy shivered, feeling his cold nose trace her neck and his curls tickle her collarbones, the basket digging into her sides.

“Stop!” She said, trying not to smile, wiggling out of his arms and lightly slapping at his arms, “I can’t take you anywhere,” 

Eddie pressed a wet kiss to her cheek. His arm went over her shoulder, grabbing the box of tea out of Nancy’s hand and dropping it into the basket. “Mrs Norris used to drink that one,” He explained, taking the other one from your hand to put it back on the shelf. “Always knocked her out cold when she was supposed to be babysitting me”

Nancy huffed, crossing her hands across her chest as Eddie encouraged you both to the end of the aisle, hands wandering. “You have no shame” She scolded, cheeks burning at the wink he gave her in response. Still, he dropped his hands from her but continued to lead you both down to the frozen section, in search of ice cream. 

She stopped at a display of lip balms, letting the two of you go on ahead. Her gaze did not linger on his fingers curled around the basket handle, or the dip of his spine that his cropped band shirt exposed.

You were still smiling over Eddie as you watched him search the freezers for the giant tub of Neapolitan-flavoured ice cream. He always made a big display of it, sometimes he and Robin would compete to see who could keep their hands in the freeze the longest. 

Nancy soon floated behind you, her floral perfume altering you to her presence long before she slid her hand into your own. She leaned into your space, so close you could smell the curl cream she and Eddie shared. The pair, despite their differences, had a surprising amount in common. 

“How mad do you think he’ll be if we refuse to hold his hand when he gets the ice cream?” Nancy whispered. 

“I think we’ll hear about it for the rest of the night,” 

Eddie cranes his head, looking you both up and down conspiringly. He fished the last tub from the back of the freezer and dropped it into the basket with a thud. It crushes the flimsy box of tea, but Eddie’s attention is on the guilty expression you’re wearing. 

He holds his freezing hands out expectantly, wanting you to come and warm him up after his valiant efforts of searching in the freezers. 

Nancy shakes her head at him, but his doe eyes can’t hold you off for long so soon he’s holding one of your hands in both his. You flinch at his touch and he pouts childishly, lashes fluttering. 

“I risk my fingers for you, and this is the thanks I get,” Eddie huffs at Nancy over the top of your head, “At least you love me, sweetheart,” He coos kissing the side of your head. 

“You hardly risked your fingers,” Nancy says rolling her eyes as she tugs your hand to lead you down to the toiletries aisle. You think half-heartedly about the cake, vanilla and shaped like a heart, that you wanted to get Steve, but then think of the crushed box of tea, it might be best to leave it for last. 

“I was very close to hypothermia,” Eddie dramatises, flexing his fingers against yours. You feel the cold bump of his rings, they’re usually cold but feel even more so after being in the freezer. 

Nancy ignores him and walks straight to the body lotion, hand reaching out for her usual choice, but lingering on a couple of new scents. Strawberries & Cream sounds like it would smell pretty nice, plus the bottle matches her nails. 

She picks it up, dropping your hand in the process and uncaps the lid to give it a smell. Eddie takes your dropped hand before it can even fall to your side, now, he threads his fingers through yours with a giddy smile. 

He pecks a kiss on your nose catching you off guard and pulls you off to the side next to the baby powders, moving you away from an oncoming cart. 

You lean in to kiss his own but are brought out of your lovesick stupor by a harsh cough.  Eddie glares at the culprit, kissing your lips extra firm. The person coughs again and you push Eddie away from you and try to move out of the way, catching sight of the person coughing at you. 

It’s always a shock to see your ex unexpectedly, it’s even worse when they’re with a beautiful partner and they have a child sitting in the cart tugging a little plush to their chest. It shocks you for about a million reasons, the most hurtful being that the entire time you had been together they claimed to never want children. 

Yet here, in front of you, is the clear proof that they did. 

“Nancy!” 

It’s a small town, everyone knows everyone. Still, it shocks you that their new partner knows Nancy. You feel so different from your old self that a reminder of it is terrifying. 

Suddenly you’re scared, what had your ex told them? How badly had they painted you? what if they tell Nancy? 

The worst part is that if they were to tell her, it would have been entirely your fault. How could you be mad at someone for telling the truth? You hadn’t been the greatest partner in the past, but you were trying to make up for that. It felt like you had made up for that. 

You make eye contact with your ex, who isn’t even trying to hide their disappointment at seeing you twice in such a short amount of time, still, it’s obvious by the conversation Nancy is getting into that they’ll be standing around for a while. 

Your eyes try to look at everything, but the person who’s fucked with your head for the last couple of days. The child, old enough that it must have been born within a year of your breakup, hair a dark brown colour, coils around their shoulders. They look so happy, a picture-perfect family. 

You excuse yourself, using the cake you need as an excuse to go to a different aisle. Eddie tries to go after you but is cut off by an old lady jamming her shopping cart in front of him with a rude huff, muttering about young people these days. She runs over his foot and he almost takes down the entire shelving unit when he backs into it.

When Eddie finds you, standing in front of an empty shelf, sniffing into your hands, he’s crushed. 

-

The drive back had been awkward. 

Nancy had found you both and sent Eddie to pay for everything while she took you to the car. You refused to cite anything but the cake’s being sold out as the reason for your tears, but it’s clear that there was something more. 

It isn’t until you’re home, that the extent of your upset is clear. At the supermarket, you had clung onto Nancy and Eddie for life, feeling personally devastated at the thought of either of them leaving you.

Now leaving was all you could think of doing. 

You had packed your bag, unpacked and re-packed it again. You just couldn’t get it out of your head, how much happier everyone might be without you. Your last relationship played through your mind like a reel.

All the times your exe had yelled at you, called you a bitch, the problem. You could be forgetful, self-absorbed, hurtful. You thought you had changed, but you had proved yourself wrong on Friday, ignoring Steve’s accomplishment to stew in your self-obsession. 

There was a knock on your door, but it was a warning rather than a request as Steve and Robin barged in without waiting for a response. 

“Are you ok?” Robin asked, skirting around your clutter to land on the bed, beside the duffle bag you were about to re-pack. “Actually no, I know you’re not ok, so don’t bother lying,” Robin huffed, pushing the fly aways from her face and staring at you in determination. 

Her hands darted out to your sides, holding you firmly in place. On her knees, on your bed, she begged you to tell her exactly what was wrong, “You always feel better after talking to me, I can help you, whatever it is. If it’s working at the vinyl store we’ll get you a new job, you could come to work with me in the museum archives?” 

“It’s not…it’s not that,” You stutter, fingers feeling tingly as your eyes dart nervously from Robin to Steve, who hasn’t moved from standing at the door. You can’t see his expression, but the vein on his neck is close to bursting. 

I’m the problem, you think, but you’re all too sweet to realise and you’ll be too kind to tell me when you do work it out. 

Robin’s nose bumps your sternum bringing your attention back to her. She presses a kiss to the swell of your stomach. Her hands are ever wandering, frantic in their need to comfort you, but unsure where to go. “You can tell me,” She promises, her sea-blue eyes boring into yours. Your eyes water as you try to think of what to say. 

“You’re leaving,” Steve’s voice is cold, and his stare is even colder. He nods to the duffle bag on the bed, glaring at it with the heat of a thousand suns. 

Robin looks at the bag that she hadn’t registered, shaking her head in disbelief, until she sees the crumbling expression on your face and realises it’s true. Her hands drop from your body and she darts from the bed like a person burnt. She brushes past Steve, rushing out of your room and you can hear her fast footsteps retreat down the hall.

“You…you don’t understand,” You try to defend, hands falling into fists in frustration. 

“No, I understand,” Steve spits, arms crossed across his chest, muscles clenched, “You’re just like her, only so much worse,” 

“Ste-”

“Don’t” Steve scoffs “You promised us you wouldn’t do this, promised me.” His voice breaks and he has to turn his face to the side, collect himself and wipe the rouge tears that he let escape. 

You sink in on yourself, “It’s…it’s for the best, I’m…I,”

Steve laughs, fist banging against the door frame, startling you, you have to steady your hands on the bed to stop yourself from falling. 

Your stomach lurches, it doesn’t feel right. You’re last breakup hadn’t ended like this, they hadn’t been mad at you for leaving, they had been mad you hadn’t broken up sooner. That they hadn’t been the one to dump you.

You fear you might have made a terrible mistake, but then remember what they had said when you broke up. That you were poison, that you ruined everything that you touched, how much happier they had been before you. Now you knew how much happier they were without you afterwards too. 

They would thank you in the long run. 

“If you walk out this door right now, I’m never going to forgive you,” Steve’s heart was cracking. Just like last time, he was caught off guard. His voice was stern, but his expression was heartbreaking. 

“Steve!” Yelled Nancy, pushing past him in the doorway and walking over to you instead. Her hair was half dry, one side still dripping water onto the collar of her shirt. 

Eddie, hair wrapped in the band shirt he had worn to the store, mirrored Nancy, only taking Steve into his arms instead of you. “Let’s all just calm down a second,” Nancy suggested, pulling you down to sit on her lap. She threw your duffle bag off the bed, sending it clattering into your wardrobe. 

“Take a deep breath,” Eddie suggested, palm warm over Steve’s chest. Robin fiddled with Steve’s fingers, eyeing everyone warily. Steve matched his breathing to Eddie’s, lips wobbling as Eddie’s thumb wiped the sticky tears from his cheeks. 

If you felt awful before, now you feel diabolical. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You confessed, trying to push out of Nancy's soothing hold because you felt so undeserving. She had a surprising amount of strength though and held you firm against her chest, “I didn’t mean, I don’t want to hurt anybody, this is exactly what I don’t want, I just want you all to be happy” 

Robin, tentatively let go of Steve’s hand, who Eddie was leading further into the bedroom. Nancy wrangled you so you were leaning against her where she sat against the headboard. Her head resting on your shoulder while her hand was rubbing up and down your back. 

Robin sat down at the foot of the bed, hand reaching out carefully to rub at your leg. “Please can you explain? So we can all understand, why you want to…leave,” Robin asked, hardly able to say the word.

The bed dipped as Eddie sat himself down to the side of you and Nancy, but Steve still refused to sit, standing up with his thighs touching the bed, hand clasped tightly in Eddie’s. 

You took a deep breath and tried to explain “I saw, my ex, first they visited me at work-”

Steve’s grip on Eddie white-knuckled as he scoffed, assuming the worst. You shrunk further back into Nancy making her glare at Steve who rolled his eyes. He was still sure you were about to rip out their hearts. 

“Go on,” Nancy encouraged.

“He said, he was glad we broke up and at first I just thought, yeah me too, but then I started thinking and,I was awful,”

“Did you start thinking that? Or did he make you think that?” Nancy asked. 

“Well, I mean, I guess he implied it and he always used to say it, like I would ruin things and he would throw things, sometimes, when I did something bad,” 

Steve sat down on the bed, looking at you tearfully, “He would throw things at you?” Now he felt himself crying for an entirely different reason. 

“It wasn’t- I was just as bad,”

“Did you throw things at them?” Questioned Robin. 

You shook your head, “No, but I de-”

“I know you’re not about to say you deserved it, no one ever deserves that sweetheart,” 

“I was an asshole, I was cruel and hurtful.” You explained, “You can say they shouldn’t have hurt me, but I hurt them just as much with every word I said. How can I deserve to be happy like this? I’ve been trying to change, but what if i can’t” 

Steve feels a rush of sympathy through his chest. The anger that surged through his body turned from a fiery rage to a simmering heat, directed at whoever made you feel like this. He knows exactly how it feels to try to change, but not be given a chance. 

To this day the title of King Steve follows him around like a bad dream. He’s taken responsibility for his actions and changed for the better, but for a long time, he wondered if it would ever be enough to make up for the hurt he had caused. Did he deserve the friendship Robin offered, that had led him down the path to this? 

You gulped eyes starting to water. “I just don’t want to ruin things, I don’t want to hurt anyone I love again, I’m so sorry Steve, I already hurt you so much and if I stay I might-”

Steve shuffled forward, pulling you roughly from Nancy’s embrace into his own. His strong arms wrapped around you and his tear-stained cheeks stuck to your own.  “The only way you could truly hurt me is if you left right now,” He pulled himself out of your embrace so he could hold his face in your hands. 

“You deserve to be happy, you deserve a chance to change,” Steve promises, tacky lips pressing into the top of your head over and over again, trying to let it sink in. 

“For the record, this version of you you’re describing, I don’t think I’ve ever met them,” Eddie says, palm firm as it rubs up and down Steve’s quaking back. 

“But I- I forgot all about Steve’s big day,” You huff, voice thick with frustration. 

“Honey, you spent the morning comforting me and asked me about it when you got home.” Steve placates. 

“Not right away though, I sat on the sofa for ages, just thinking about myself,”

“Think that’s understandable after the run-in you had,” Steve’s hand keeps a warm grip on your cheeks, eyes softening as he kisses underneath your teary eye.

“Lovely, you’ve never made any of us feel anything but loved and I hope you feel the same about us” Nancy offered, stroking your shoulder with soft fingers. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I even thought about leaving I was just, so caught up and I wasn’t thinking properly.”

 “Do you still want to?” Asked Robin tentatively, hands ghosting the sides of your leg. 

You shook your head, lip starting to wobble, “I never wanted to, I just thought- I thought I had to,- Oof!” You exclaimed, Robin’s soft body dropping on top of you and Steve, squishing you down against Nancy, who took the weight like a champ. 

Her arms winded around Steve, you and Nancy, squeezing Steve so tight he thought she might break one of his ribs. “I think as long as us five stick together, we can get through anything” 

“Well said Buckley,” Grinned Eddie, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

Eventually, you all moved from your room into Nancy and Steve’s which had the biggest bed. 

Nancy was removing the decorative pillows from the bed to place them on the ottoman instead. Eddie was helping, but his idea of helping was throwing them at Robin who was trying to dodge them while drinking the tea Nancy had gotten her at the store. A potentially deadly combination that required Nancy’s intervention. 

Steve was with you in the en suite, the two of you hadn’t spent much time apart since the earlier misunderstanding. Steve had joined you in the shower while Nancy and Eddie finished drying their hair. 

You had shared a bowl of ice cream, even though Steve didn’t like ice cream all that much anymore while watching the Documentary Eddie borrowed from the library for Robin. 

Steve had just finished washing your face for you, letting you sit on the counter. Now you were brushing his hair for him. You started carefully combing it back with a fine-tooth comb, but now we're just using your fingers, styling it wildly to make him laugh. 

You were currently attempting a mohawk with little success. He had one hand wrapped around his toothbrush while the other was holding your wrist, fingers pressing into your pulse. It felt good to be the reason Steve laughed instead of the reason he had been crying. 

“I’m sorry Steve,” You whispered again, against his forehead, pressing a light kiss between his eyebrows. 

“Already forgiven lovely,” Steve promised, bending his head to kiss your pulse point. “ but, please tell me what I did wrong” He murmured, turning bashful.

“What?” Now it was your turn to look at Steve in shock. “You didn’t do anything wrong?” 

“Please, you can tell me, otherwise how will I not do it again?” Steve spares you a glance with eyes so earnest it breaks your heart. 

Steve had felt so guilty since he heard your confession, you had thought that you would make them unhappy, in his head it translated that he hadn’t made it clear just how much he adores you. 

“You didn’t Stevie, I promise. I was too in my own head” You kiss him gently “I still am, to be honest,” You confess smoothing his hair down behind his ears, kissing him once again for good measure. “I promise I’ll tell you next time I start spiralling,”

He burrowed his face in your neck, inhaling the smell of strawberries and cream. It scared him to think he would never be this close to you ever again, that he could lose out on all this. “God I hope there isn’t a next time, I love you, you make me- you make us so much happier,”

“Thank you for caring about me, I know it can be hard,” 

“Caring about you is easy, it’s like breathing I don’t even have to think about it, I just do it” 

“Stevie,” You mumble, tucking yourself against his shoulder, “You’re such a loverboy,” You peck him again. 

After another five minutes of cuddling, you go into the bedroom and find yourself in a love pile on the bed. 

Robin is smushed, out cold on top of you and Nancy. Nancy flanks you one one side and Steve is on your other, breath puffing against your neck. Eddie is wrapped around him, his heavy leg draped across you and Steve. 

If he was ever right, about you being poison, you’re certain you’ve found your antidote. 

masterlist

[merriclo]

I want to know your LU headcanons!

ohHO i will absolutely tell you tysm for asking!! i’ve been wanting to talk abt them for ages but just never got around to it ig ahjdkcka

Time’s actually like 32 and is just really committed to the bit of being ancient

Sky is horrific at making new friends. he grew up with the same small group of people, so he never learned how to make friends with complete strangers because there simply wasn’t the need to. so, when he first starts traveling with the chain, he makes little wooden charms for them because he isn’t entirely sure how else to get close with them. Zelda always enjoyed his woodcarvings, so maybe they will too??

as a result, the entire chain has little trinkets made by Sky. on Legend’s bag there’s charms hanging off the straps, and Twilight wears his as necklaces (both because it looks cool as fuck and it helps the shadow crystal stand out less). yes Wind has specifically commissioned him to make something for Aryll

yeah yeah bunny Legend but consider: the mermaid suit (which I like to think is more of a curse bc get fished pink man <3) giving him some marine animal qualities as well. no matter what tho that bitch is an Ariel kinnie, they’re collecting all the shiny shit they can find

Sky is obsessed with doing puzzles the Right and Proper way, meanwhile Wild cheeses absolutely everything he can

Wind believes in all of those classic pirate superstitions

the witches in Legend’s era adore him. Grandma Syrup dotes on him, Maple is like a teasing older sister, and Irene is like a teasing younger sister. this is where he learned most of his magic skills from, and he takes all potentially enchanted or cursed items to them to check out. he’ll never admit it, but Legend finds lots of comfort in all of them, as they’re one of the few people who’ve stayed in his life this long.

Wild’s a pretty good medic!! during his adventure, he very quickly realized how dangerous infection is, so they learned about a lot of home remedies and medicinal herbs, as well as how to tend to a wound from other travelers at stables and inns. he didn’t really get a choice in learning, considering how he probably got stung or bit by painful insects or accidentally brushed up against painful plants a lot during the early days of their adventure, and thus showed up to stables covered in rashes and hives and such, causing every decent person in the area to flock to them and try to help. their Hyrule is very sweet, okay?

they’re not the only one who’s well acquainted with medicinal herbs, though! while I think all of them would have a basic understanding, Time, Hyrule, Warriors, and Wind would know a lot. dw i’m elaborating

Time quite literally grew up in the forest, was raised by a tree, and had actual forest spirits for siblings—he knows his plants. he and Saria would peel willow bark and collect dandelions together

I like to think that Hyrule being half-fae makes him very sensitive to all magic-based auras, including that of plants, so they’re very good at picking out the healing herbs, even if they’re not quite sure what they’re called

listen ok hear me out about Warriors. young Time was appalled that he knew jackshit about nature and forcefully taught him. also, before modern medicine, medicinal plants were used all the fucking time on the battle field. yarrow, an herb that stops bleeding and prevents infection, is called soldiers’ woundwort because of this. i mention this because he was probably concerned about the health and safety of his troops, so he learned what the medics were doing and using.

Wind grew up on a small, tight-knit island, realistically they would’ve had to have learned how to use the things around them to their fullest advantage. that being said, his knowledge is sort of useless outside of his own era, aside from what he was taught in the war. ok i’m done talking about medicinal herbs now i promise sorry it’s a hobby of mine ahhsjdka

Legend’s terrified of dogs. in Link’s Awakening, the dogs are literally balls on chains with huge mouths full of sharp teeth (basically just Chain Chomps). if you want to get angsty with it: it comes from guard dogs being sent after him on his first adventure. he became a lot less scared to more he spent time with BowBow (the ball and chain dog) but, when he woke up, he got the belief that he could only be safe around a dog in his dreams. he’s pretty damn uncomfortable around Wolfie at first, but after lots of time and learning to trust Twilight, he’s able to slowly overcome his fear. sort of. mostly just with Wolfie. he still hates staying at stables in Wild’s Hyrule.

if Wild doesn’t want to explain/source something he’ll just say it came to him via divine intervention. Sky believes it every single time

I was thinking about Legend’s story a while ago and realized it was kind of similar to Joan of Arc’s so take that as you will. idk if this even counts as a headcanon but i’m putting it here

Warriors and Twilight are really close friends because they both understand the struggles of wrangling dirt worshipping nature freaks. anytime Twilight (lovingly) complains about Wild, Wars will counter with whatever asinine feral child antics young Time got up to and suddenly Twi will feel very blessed and lucky

whenever Four sees someone with their hair in a high ponytail he subconsciously thinks they’re very smart and respectable because Dot always wears her hair in a high ponytail

Hyrule is completely fine with not sleeping on a bedroll. they like the dirt, actually. let them sleep in the dirt.

Legend uses apples in his red potions, both to increase their potency and to make them taste better. he also learned how to enchant apples to be healing on their own so sometimes when someone’s hurt he’ll just shove an apple in their face

uhh so ik this is a lot but this isn’t even close to of all my headcanons so yeah there’s that lmao

[pumpkinsy0]

Can I get more Darry and pony I cannot live without they and you have the best headcannons

darry and pony heyyyyyyyy hiiiiiiiiii❤️

•darrys always usually asking what he wants for dinner, sometimes he asks johnny but mostly pony. ponys a bit of a picky eater at times and he knows that the gang would rlly eat whatever he makes, its better than nothing

•darrys the one who taught pony not to b embarrassed of his name!! pony went to soda about it first but the only reason y ppl do is literally only bc sodas seen as VERY cute, that “just ignore them” advice wasnt gonna cut it for pony. darry however gave him actual advice and taught him to b pretty proud of his name, soda just makes him feel less alone about having a “weird name”

•pony and darry dont look like brothers at ALL, like if u look at darry and soda then pony and soda youd think “yeaaaa alright its not clear but im squinting and totally see it now”, darry and pony however???? dont look related at all, theyve been told that so many times atp they just stand there awkwardly going “yea haha guess so”, but if u see their mannerisms, its toootttalllyyyy obvious, especially when theyre nervous

•the dog that the curtis’ had was technically rlly darrys dog, darry just asked pony if he could ask their parents to keep em bc he knew they would say yes to him w little hesitation, he woulda told soda to do it but soda ran out his yes’ from them for the month, he was a needy ass kid😭😭

•ponys a lil beefy bc sometimes he drinks some of darrys shakes, EVERYONE else says its grows but something about it is rlly good to pony, he has no shame about it and darrys noticed ponys (growing) muscles. everytime darry brings it up pony gets a boost in confidence

•when i think about darry going to college after years and graduating , i think about pony being the ones to take the pics and b smiling hard for darrys achievement, just like darry was for ponys hs and college graduation, doesnt matter how grown darry is pony is like a proud mother of 1 on that day

•darry has not problem carrying pony out the car when hes passed out, but sometimes hes accidentally hit ponys head on the door frame or just straight up almost tripped, so unless ponys knocked completely out, hes just on alert till darry sets him down somewhere (but to b fair when it comes to him tripping its bc someone left an object on the ground that should nottttt b there)

•pony WOULD defend darry if someone called him stupid like some do w soda for not graduating hs, but look, darry can defend himself just fine, nobodys ever gonna calling him that to his face, (minus steve lmao) even if they want to, they know theyd b lying, so darrys doin just fine in that regard, he doesnt need anyones defense

•darrys kissed pony on the forehead numerous times right before he went to work and pony was asleep, ponys kissed darrys one time while he thought he was asleep, darry was awake for that one, his eyes were just closed. hes never told pony that bit tho

•ok look most of darrys reputation in hs he got just by being himself and his popularity was by complete accident, BUT a part of y he played into it more was for the sake of pony and soda, MOSTLY pony bc sodas rep was already rlly good, but he did it to set them up to get some respect for association of being related to him

•ponys massages arent even bad, to darry its more ticklish than anything and he hatttteesssss being tickled so thats y he doesnt like it

•if darry was the actual role of ponys brother and not guardian, he wouldve just given pony his old school work to copy off of instead of just helping him to find out the answers on his own