#but yeah sorry I totally got distracted with this lol))

[wellhalesbells]

the thing that fucks me up about rereading instructions for dancing is trying to pinpoint when it is that derek becomes obsessed with stiles and realizing the answer seems to be always. from the beginning. the moment they met. that poor bastard. he probably should have tried to be a little nicer about it, though, saved them both some hardship.

I think it slides so quickly from fear and annoyance that Stiles will steal Scott away to 'Oh no, oh fuck,' I'm not even sure Derek knows himself. Poor guy hamstrung himself by starting out with the 'I'm going to scare him away' mentality then wondering where the hell that went and trying to find it again through almost every subsequent interaction (while something so much bigger and so much worse - Derek's Thoughts™ - completely eclipsed it). Meanwhile Stiles also helps cultivate Derek's dickish-ness by assuming that original motivation to be his only interest in him at all, essentially until the moment Derek tells him he's in love with him.

Which is hopefully why it seemingly comes out of left field for Stiles and the reader, because that's what I wanted.

[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

➸ masterlist

taglist:

@joemama-2 @erencvlt @pickuptruck01 @hanakotateyama @nuronhe

@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

@sirencholia @sorcerersseestars @horisdope @to-dabi @staoru

@aliidarling @ninjaturtletoes @lavender-hvze @lanadelreylover11 @chckn-pi

@satoryaa @gojodickbig @v4mpieres @reinam00n @sleepyyammy

@haikomaiko @tbzzluvr @myahfig4 @arabelluhhh4200 @bloopsstuff

@nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf @badbclub @blackunecorn @geniejunn @n0tviv

@verystrawberryhottub @iheartshopping @peonysfordayz @dreamsxmerci @aishies-stuff

@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

[astrxealis]

leon theme i spent my early morning hours working on even tho i have to wake 6 am !!! 🫵🆒✨ (it is 10 minutes to 5 am)

[wysteria-bloom]

⚝ "oh shit you're crying okay"

Hazbin Hotel boys react to you crying at a party

Warnings : mentions of val. hate that motherfucker.

Genre : angst, comfort, fluff

A/n : bro I jump between fandom obsessions too much I need help. Why am I simping for THE DEVIL from THE BIBLE and A TV-HEAD MAN 😭😭 actually devastated with myself. Anyways Vox and Alastor's may be a bit longer because... yeah. Angel-Dust's is a friend relationship but you can interpret it differently if you are a dude lol

Characters : angel-dust, husk, alastor, vox, lucifer

▢ angel dust 𔘓

When he walked into the bathroom, he was shocked at first at the sight of you, feeling fear grip his heart.

Had Val got his hands on you when he was distracted? He would never forgive himself if he had-

"Toots, ya can't jus' go an' disappear on me like that," He began softly as he closed the bathroom door, locking it for privacy," had me tearin' out my hair."

You sniffed as you look up at him, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks swollen from tears," s-sorry..." you whimpered out, curling in on yourself a little more.

He grimaced at the dirty floor you were sitting on before maneuvering around you sit next to you, one of his arms pulling you into his side-embrace comfortingly.

"This party's fuckin' shitty, ain't it? Sorry for bringin' ya here, doll." He sighed out, hand caressing your side softly.

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from sobbing as you shook your head vehemently," i-it's not that, Angel... you were only trying to cheer me up..." you furiously wiped at your eyes to stop more tears from falling," I just-... Fucking hate everything down here..."

He hummed, head leaning on top of yours," cheers to that." He droned out with a frown.

You looked up at him, his heart squeezing at the innocent look on your face. You weren't supposed to be down in a place like this, there was no way.

"Can we just... go get ice cream or something?" You then gulped, waving a hand," b-but if you're having fun-"

"Nah. I'd rather do one of Charlie's trust exercises than be in this shit-hole." He stood up smoothly and pulled you with him, keeping you close to him as he grinned toothily," I would kill for an ice cream right now."

▢ alastor ⍋

He didn't willingly want to be here, in fact he stayed for a total of 15 minutes to please Charlie before escaping outside to leave.

But the sight of you sitting on the steps outside sniffling to yourself made him pause in his long strides.

You had your head hung low, a red plastic cup sitting at your side alone.

You were prime for manipulation.

But... Alastor found himself being sympathetic. He breathed out a sigh before walking over to you," my, what do we have here? My dear, being out in the open in such a vulnerable state is a bold choice!" He exclaimed, grinning down at you, but it wasn't as sharp as it usually was.

You jumped at his sudden presence," Jesus-!" You looked up.

"Not quite!"

You seemed to relax at the sight of the red-haired demon and sighed in relief," Alastor..." you gave him a weak smile, wiping away at your tears," Wh-what brings you out here, huh? Needed fresh air?"

He sat down on the steps with you," As a matter of fact, I was planning my great escape from this wretched event!" He tilted his head at you, hair falling along with him as he regarded you with a knowing glint in his eyes," I believe you're well acquainted with the feeling, hmm?"

Your smile fell as you huffed, deciding it was useless to keep up a happy persona around Alastor when he was so good at reading right through you," You could say that."

"What bothers you so, my dear?" He gave you a closed-eyed smile, tugging at your cheek like an annoying auntie would do," perhaps your favourite radio demon can be of service to you."

He earned a giggle from you as you waved his hand away amusedly, making his expression soften at the sound.

"You're the only radio demon I know." You raised a brow at him in amusement.

He nodded with an exageratted shrug," I wouldn't have it any other way, dear."

You smiled genuinely at him, feeling your worries already disappearing," parties suck." You answered his previous question.

"Aha!" His smile looked like a grimace and his fluffy ears flattened as if an unpleasant memory was reminded to him," agreed."

"They're gross."

"Tell me about it!"

"And the people in it make me want to kill myself. Again."

He snapped his fingers at you," I knew we had something in common! Well-said, cher, very well-said~!" He pressed a hand to his heart - as if he had one.

As you laughed, your tears dried up and you leaned back a little," as for you being of service?..." You trailed off, referring back to his earlier inquiry. A soft smile made its way to your lips," I think you've helped enough already, Al."

The red demon's posture seemed to stiffen but relax, his grin curving gently which was his way of softening it," Wonderful to hear, my dear."

He gave you a gentle pat to the shoulder and you had never felt so comforted in that moment.

▢ husk ꩜

Before even attending the party, he knew something was up with you. You weren't smiling as much on the way there, and you were jumpy at his comforting touches.

Even so, you insited that you wanted to spend time with everyone at the party despite his assurances that you could stay home.

When he found you crying in the bathroom, he froze in his spot before grumbling to himself and closing the door behind him, not before giving a growl and a deadly glare at the demon that was whining about needing a piss.

He led you gently from the ground to a standing position before settling you on the toilet seat.

The silence between you both was soft and comforting, hanging in the air like a gentle caress of wind.

He got down on his knees in front of you and began to wipe away at your tears, a deep frown settled on his face.

You only stared into his eyes with your glassy ones, bottom lip trembling," my makeup probably looks so fucking gross..." you sobbed.

Husk snorted," should be the least of your worries, doll." When you finally stopped crying he huffed and flicked your forehead," you have some serious FOMO." He grumbled out, an amused smirk on his fluffy face.

You sniffled and nodded, choking back more tears," I know."

"And you need to know when to stop if you're uncomfortable."

You nodded again," I know.."

His brows furrowed," and you still look pretty with your makeup running down your face." His reassurance was sweet and charming despite the disgruntled expression on his face.

A watery smile broke onto your lips,"... Thank you." You breathed out softly.

"Wanna get the fuck outta here? There's a nice bar I know a few blocks away we could drink at. Just the two of us."

You hummed," Sounds awesome."

▢ vox ᯤ

When he agreed to go to this stupid party for Val, he wasn't expecting to run into something like this.

His greatest enemy, you, was sat outside with your head in your hands as you sobbed and cursed to yourself.

To be honest he was torn between making fun of you or just taking advantage of the situation and killing you.

But there was that little voice in the back of his coding that screamed to comfort you.

He groaned and ran his hands down his face," fuck my life fuck my life fuck my life..." He muttered to himself as he walked over to you.

He stood behind you and watched as you paused to look up at him, face puffy and pathetic.

He grinned wryly at the sight," Holy shit you're an ugly crier." He stated without thinking.

Your wide eyes turned half-lidded as you turned your attention away from him," Go fuck yourself, Vox. I'm not in the mood for your whiny baby shit." You grumbled out.

"Hey, hey. Whiny baby is too far, sweetheart. Take the insults down a few notches, yeah?" He then sat down next to you," treating me like this when about to comfort you. The fuckin' nerve of you."

You gave him a deadly glare, growling," Vox, leave. I told you I'm not in the fucking m-" you were interrupted by being pulled into a sudden embrace, making you shut up immediately.

There was a long awkward silence as you were pulled into Vox's side in a side-hug.

Then you spoke with a small voice,"... what is this." Was more of a demand than a question.

"Comfort." Vox replied casually when he was fucking sweating buckets.

"........ huh...." you bit your lip as you felt tears sting at your eyes,"... alright."

You leaned into him unknowingly, making him gush a little to himself. Why the fuck was he being soft right now? He didn't know.

"You looked hot tonight. All dolled up." He gritted out.

"Yeah? Looked? Past-tense?"

He nodded," you look like a wet-rag now."

You snorted," fuck you, man." You grumbled, and leaned your head onto his shoulder," fuck, I'm pathetic..."

"Yeah. But it's okay." He replied as comfortingly as he could but it just came out awkwardly," y'know parties are supposed to be fun? Why are you crying?"

"I hate my life? Or lack thereof?"

He hummed with a nod," Fair enough." Then he smiled widely," guess we have one thing in common, huh?"

You looked up at him before you sent him a slightly amused smirk," do we?"

He cleared his throat at your expression and looked away quickly, blush on his screen,"I-I mean.. yeah. Fucking sucks down here. Literal shit hole." Then he shrugged, trying to brush off the stutter of his heart," but... but at least you're not like... alone or whatever the fuck."

You stared for a moment, eyes softening as you nodded in agreement,"... Yeah. At least there's that, huh?"

You leaned back into his embrace with less tension in your body as Vox began to relax alongside you.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

He came to this party just to make a brief appearance for his daughter's celebration of the hotel being rebuilt to be honest.

But he took quick note of how you had left very suddenly, mumbling to him about needing to take a breather outside. He was worried, of course, but he just left you in your lonesome until he got worried when you didn't return for 20 minutes.

When he walked outside onto the balcony of the hotel his eyes widened in horror at the sigh of you sobbing to yourself.

"Oh shit you're crying okay ummm," He walked over to you quickly, playing with his fingers awkwardly," Honey is everything okay? Do...do you need a hug?"

"Shit... sorry..." you mumbled looking up at him ashamedly from the floor, smiling pathetically as tears trailed down your cheeks," I.. I'm sorry you have to see me like this..."

He frowned deeply, his nervousness subsiding as he crouched down in front of you," Don't apologise for something so silly." He mumbled, grabbing on your hand and gently squeezing," what's wrong? Is it something I can help with?"

His concern was incredibly sweet and touching, not something you would expect from the King of Hell.

But here he was comforting you like you were the most precious treasure to him. And you were... aside from Charlie, for obvious reasons.

You sniffled and felt your tears gathering again at his concern, you bottom lip trembling. At the sight, he frowned," Oh, love... oh honey..." He brought you into a hug, arms wrapping securely around you as he let his wings embrace you as well," I'm here now... always will be..."

You nodded against him as you just cried your heart out.

[astermath]

title taken ✧*

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan makes an offhand comment about potentially “dying a virgin”. you ask him if he’d like you to help with that. and how could he possibly refuse?

word count: 3.8K

notes: first time fully writing smut on this blog! I hope I did okay lol I probs got a bit carried away,, I remember hearing his comment in the movie and being like I VOLUNTEER I CAN HELP lmao, anyways,,, comments / reblogs are highly appreciated, and requests are open! lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related content!

warnings: cursing, protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), ethan realizing how much he loves going down on you lol, MINORS DNI!!!! normal sized font below!

notes: guys hot take but I think ethan is a boobs guy, but what do you think? sound off in the comments ethan nation

P.S.: this is a REPOST with some slight edits, sorry for the inconvenience!!

You distinctly remember the moment when Ethan made that comment.

You were all sitting outside, discussing your theories as to who the Ghostface killer could be and who you guys should be watching out for. When Ethan realized he was part of the core friend group, and as a result, also a target, he looked panicked.

“Am I gonna die a virgin?”

It was an offhand comment that no one paid much attention to, it seemed like everyone pretty much expected that from him. But you didn’t. Sure, he was a total dork, and really bad at talking to girls, but he was a pretty boy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered hooking up with him before, but… That comment truly solidified the thought for you.

The two of you were sat on the couch of Chad and Ethan’s shared dorm. Despite Mindy telling you she didn’t trust him and that you shouldn’t be hanging out alone with him, you did very much need his tutoring. You’d rather get killed by Ghostface than have to retake econ.

But you couldn’t focus on the material. Not when Ethan’s virgin comment was making all kinds of images appear in your mind. You weren’t even listening to what he was saying, your brain having a field day with the thought of you taking that title away from him.

“Hey, Ethan.” You finally spoke up, looking away from your notes.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, the end of his pen held to his lips. He always had a habit of biting his pen when he got distracted.

“Are you really a virgin?”

The bluntness of your out of the blue question completely took him out of it. His eyes widened and he just sort of froze up, like his brain short circuited. You could tell he started blushing, and god did it look adorable.

“U-Uhm…” He put down his pen and tried to look anywhere but where your eyes were. Frankly, he was a bit embarrassed about it. He’d never even had a girlfriend, let alone have sex before, and as much as Chad tried to get him involved with girls he always struggled with it. Not just because of how awkward he generally was.

But because he had a crush on you already.

No one knew, not even his roommate, but lately he’d been struggling with keeping it to himself, especially as the two of you had been hanging out more on your own. There were so many moments where he just wanted to be closer to you, move all these papers aside and just kiss you right then and there.

His eyes were fixated on his laptop as he swallowed hard, clearly nervous about the whole ordeal. “Uhm… Yeah. I am…” He brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to keep his hands busy so his nerves wouldn’t show as much. “Just… Never got around to it.” He chuckled nervously.

You closed your laptop, realizing you’d made the poor boy uncomfortable with your sudden interest in his sex life. Or, well, lack there of. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s nothing to be ashamed about, there’s no, like, expiration date on when you have to fuck someone…” You tried to make him feel a bit better.

Ethan nodded awkwardly, genuinely wishing this couch would just swallow him whole so he could disappear. The girl he liked knew he was a virgin loser with no game, there was no way you were ever going to want him now.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Ethan wondering if it was too late to jump out a window and forget this ever happened. You, however, had a different turn of events in mind.

“Do you want me to help with that?”

Those words made Ethan look up from his laptop and his eyes widen. If your previous question was a pitch, this one was a home run. He wasn’t even completely sure if you actually asked that or if he imagined it, until he met your gaze. But he wanted to be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. “W-What?”

You shuffled a little closer, legs touching his, putting a hand on his thigh and leaning in slightly. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

Ethan can feel blood rush to his cock from the question alone, his gaze darting from your lips back up to your eyes. If this was a dream, it was definitely the best one he’s had so far.

“Yes.”

Your lips meet his only a second after his reply, the book on his lap falling to the floor as you both lean in at the same time. You could tell he was nervous, but that didn’t stop him from trying. You tilted your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly to run your tongue across his bottom lip, an action that elicited a slight whimper from him.

His arms snaked around your waist and you raised yourself up onto his lap. A hand soon found its place in his curls, tugging gently to tilt his head back as your lips traveled down to his jaw, then to his neck, peppering gentle kisses and love bites on the way.

“S-Shit…” He spoke between hot breaths, one of his hands now resting on the soft flesh of your thigh, squeezing slightly whenever your teeth would bite down on his sensitive skin.

You giggle softly at how sensitive he was, lips sucking a darker mark on the spot below his ear. His hips were shifting beneath you, and even through multiple layers of clothing, you could tell he was getting harder by the second. You pulled back, hands coming up to cup his pretty face. He was already panting a bit, cheeks tinged pink from all this newfound excitement. “You look so pretty...” You press another soft kiss to his lips. “This okay?”

Ethan looks up at you with an almost desperate look in those doe eyes of his, nodding at your question. As much as you wanted to fuck him right then and there, Ethan deserved to be taken care of a little, especially since this was his first time experiencing most of this.

“Good, good...” Your thumb rubs gently across the soft skin of his cheek. “Wanna... Take this to the bedroom?”

“Please.” He breathes out against your lips.

The walk, or almost run to his bedroom, was a blur in your mind. You wasted no time, quickly getting inside and locking the door behind you both. Ethan was eager now that this was finally feeling real, hands swiftly finding your hips again and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

“Hmm... Someone’s excited...” You mumbled in between kisses, stumbling backwards onto the bed until your back hit the mattress. Ethan held himself above you, brown curls perfectly framing his face as he admired how beautiful you looked on his bed.

He kissed you again, tongues playing with one another as his confidence was spurred on by his pure exhilaration. “Been... Wanting to do this forever...” He spoke against your lips as your hands searched for the hem of his shirt. “With you...” He pulled his shirt off in a hurry, diving back to meet your neck, pressing feverish kisses to your skin.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip, hand coming up to further push him into the crook where your shoulder and neck met. You let out a soft mewl when he bit down, wondering if he’d imagined this before. One of your hands moved over his chest, nails raking over the skin and undoubtedly leaving red lines in their wake. They travelled over his abs, down to his crotch, palming slightly, which earned a delicious groan from him.

You tilt your head to kiss the side of his head and get his attention to meet your gaze. His eyes find yours, half lidded, pupils blown out like he was high off the moment. “Me too.” You say, and you could swear it activated something in him when you did.

His hands start roaming under your shirt, and you take that as your cue to take yours off too. He stops for a moment, purely to admire the newly exposed parts of your body. Sure, he’d snuck glances at your chest when you wore tighter shirts, or when the collar would dip down just enough to give him a peek. But he only imagined touching your tits, how soft they were, how well you’d react to his hands.

His hand reached out and he gently cupped your breast, still a little careful. “So soft...” He mumbled to himself, his thumb slowly rolling over your nipple, almost teasingly so. You whined softly, arching your back a little into his touch. His other hand joined in and he squeezed them a bit, seemingly entranced by just how soft and pleasant they felt. Like they were made to be held by him.

He leaned down to your chest and looked up at you with puppy eyes. He could ask you to rob a bank with those eyes, and you’d do it. You just hoped he didn’t realize how you weak you were to that look.

“Can I?” He licked his lips.

“Y-Yeah, Ethan, anything...” You rubbed your thighs together. You knew he was just taking things slow, for both of your sakes, but god it felt like he was teasing you so badly.

He licked your nipple, a little hesitant, but he took the hand in his hair as a sign that he could continue. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and suckled softly, closing his eyes as his fingers played around with your other nipple. You swore he was getting off on just sucking and touching your tits, noticing slight movements of his hips grinding into the bed.

He let go with an audible ‘pop’, earning a delicious whimper from you.

“E-Ethan...” You whined, catching your bottom lip under your teeth.

“Yeah...?” He hoped he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Touch me...” You spread your thighs a little more. “Please?”

“O-Oh, right... Sorry, I just... Got a little caught up in the moment.” He chuckled nervously and you did the same. You were glad there was still an air of lightness surrounding the whole ordeal. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel judged or uncomfortable.

He moved back a little between your thighs, hands exploring the soft skin of your legs with a pleased hum. He’d dreamt about moments like these so many times, ever since you became part of the friend group, he just couldn’t stop imagining what it was like. What you’d feel like, what you’d sound like... He was still processing a little that it was all actually happening.

His hand hesitatingly moved over your inner thigh, bringing a finger to gently trace over the fabric of your panties. His eyes widened a little at what he felt; you were soaked. He felt a little more confident in knowing he did that to you, but also a little shocked. “You’re... So wet...”

You brought up your hands to cover your face. You were, yes, but the way he was saying it made you all the more conscious about the effects he was having on your body. “Ethan... That’s-- You can’t...”

He grinned slightly at your reaction. He never knew you could get shy like this, you were usually such an open person. “Alright, let me just...” His fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties. He bit his lip when he discovered the hot wetness there, gently running over your slicked folds. “Is this okay?” he looked up at you.

“Mhm...” You nodded, your thighs twitching slightly when his finger grazed over your clit. “F-Fuck, yes... There, keep... Keep doing that.” You felt a little guilty for a second, remembering this was supposed to be about him. But you were doing him a favor, really, he was bound to have to find out how to touch a girl sooner or later.

His middle finger ran gentle and slow circles over your clit as his other hand kept busy running up and down your thigh. He stopped for a moment, hooking his finger around the elastic of your panties, looking at you for approval to take them off. You said something along the lines of “go ahead” between your whimpers, so he gently removed them from your body.

Again, he was taken aback by how beautiful you were, pussy glistening with juices. “God...” His thumb ran over your clit and you shivered slightly, having missed his touch, even if it was just for a few moments.

An idea sprung alive in his head, something he’d thought about many times before. “Hey, uhm... Can I...” He seemed nervous about proposing it.

“Hm? What is it Ethan?” You propped yourself up slightly onto your elbows, looking at him.

“Can I go down on you?” He paused for a moment, swallowing. “I, uh... I’ve always wanted to try that.”

You smiled at his request. Usually, the first thing guys would want is for a girl to go down on them, but you supposed Ethan wanted to explore all the options a little first. And maybe he wanted this to last longer than he would with your mouth on him. “Y-Yeah, sure...”

He smiled back, arms now on both sides of your thighs as he leaned his head down closer to your aching core. His hot breath hit your pussy, and you resisted the urge to just pull him closer. Instead, you ran your fingers over his scalp with an encouraging nudge. He stuck out his tongue, running it flat over the entirety of your wetness, humming at the taste.

You squirmed when he reached your clit, and his hands came up to settle on your thighs. He flicked his tongue and you moaned, almost obscenely, at the action. “F-Fuck!” He did it again, and your thighs started clamping down on him. “Jesus, Ethan...” He brought his lips down onto the needy bundle of nerves and suckled gently. Your head threw back as his tongue sent waves of warm tingles through your entire body.

“A-Are you sure this is your first time?” You spoke breathily through your moans and it only spurred him on further. He looked up at you with those all too familiar puppy eyes, tongue eagerly lapping at your juices. He moaned into your cunt, rutting into the bed slightly, fuck it felt good to please you.

You felt a familiar knot start to form in your stomach, hips moving against Ethan’s face as you mumbled his name over your whimpers. He sucked down on your clit again and that sent you over the edge, hand gripping his curls as you became undone beneath him. You rode it out on his face a bit before you relaxed back onto the mattress, thighs trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. “Holy shit... Ethan...”

He slowly got up, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. “I hope I did alright.” He smiled, gently stroking your leg.

“Are you kidding me?” you spoke up after finally catching your breath. “You did so well baby.” You propped yourself up and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your own juices on his tongue. Your hands went to his pants in the meantime, working on undoing his belt. “If you’d just… Help me out with those…” You smiled against his lips. “I could return the favor.”

He wasted no time in taking off his pants, kicking them off the bed until he was left in just his boxers. He kneeled on the mattress, his hard-on straining against the fabric of his underwear. You leaned forward onto your elbows, and he swore just the sight of you like that would have finished him off.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his bulge through the fabric, and you noticed a twitch from his cock in return. “Been wanting to know what you taste like for months…” You mumbled, hooking your fingers over the waistband of his underwear to free his throbbing cock. The tip was already dripping with pre-cum, proof of just how worked up he got from eating you out earlier.

“Just relax, ‘kay?” You looked up at him and offered a sultry smile, to which he nodded. You reached out and with a gentle grip, pumped his length a few times. He bit his lip, suppressing a groan. God your hand felt so much better than his…

You leaned in and licked across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum on your tongue and savoring it. “Such a pretty cock too…” You licked up the length of him and he hissed through his teeth, hand landing gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, not pulling, just wanting to touch you.

He whined out your name when you suckled on the tip, looking down at you with desperate and needy eyes. “Fuck… T-That feels… So fucking good oh my god…” His hand moves over to your jaw, so you’re looking up at him now, and the eye contact doesn’t break, not even once.

His breathing picks up when you start to bob your head, but he stops you before you go deeper, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit, sorry, was that too far?” You look at him with a worried expression.

“No, no, not at all, it’s just… I wanna last longer.” He looked a bit embarrassed, and you felt a sense of pride of almost making him cum just from giving him head for a bit.

“That’s okay,” You got up to your knees and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m starting to get impatient anyways,” His breath hitched when you traced your fingers over his length again. “Need you inside me…”

You gave him a slight push so he sat down on the bed as you leaned over to grab a condom from the pocket of your discarded shorts. You rolled it over his cock, a snug fit, as expected, and your eyes went back to his face. He watched your pussy hover over his length, mentally preparing himself. If you going down on him felt that incredible, then this was about to be an out of body experience.

You put one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, and reached one hand under to run his tip between your folds, lubing him up with your juices. “You ready?”

He nodded, hands coming up to gently rest on your hips. With that, you sank down onto his cock, slowly but steadily taking him inch by inch. Both of you moaned in unison at the joining of your bodies, neither of you imagining it would feel quite like this. You, surprised by the stretch he gave your cunt, him, surprised by your warmth and tightness.

“Fuck…” You sighed out, before you fully took his length, skin meeting skin with an audible clap. “So... Deep...” You put both of your hands on his chest, leaning forward a little. “Feels good, huh? You fit inside me so perfectly...”

“Shit...” He squeezes your hips harder, not enough to bruise, at least not yet. “So tight...” Ethan moves his hips up a little and you moan at the movement, the head of his cock grazing a very special spot inside you.

“F-Fuck, Ethan, hold on... J-Just...” You raised your hips, almost pulling him out completely.

“Let me...” You lowered again, ass meeting his hips. “Take care of you...” You started to establish a steady rhythm, Ethan watching your body move in complete fascination. You were gorgeous, tits bouncing, making the prettiest noises. Any guy would kill to have you on him like that, and he was no exception.

Your thighs started burning a little after a while, and he could tell as your movements got less intense. But you felt so good, every single change in motion sent jolts of pleasure through his body, his cock twitching whenever you would moan out his name.

He decided to keep chasing this high and take the reigns, putting a hand on your lower back and getting up, laying you down on the mattress as he pulled out.

“E-Ethan! What are you-- o-oh my god--” Your sentence got cut off by him sliding back inside you, his arms resting besides your body. You didn’t expect this more... Initiative-taking side of him, but it was welcome either way. You hooked your legs around his hips to pull him in closer, arms resting over his shoulders.

He quickly began thrusting, hips snapping forward, the room filled with the almost pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. He looked at you, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, mouth slightly agape. You pulled him in by his shoulders to capture his lips, moaning into his mouth as he picked up the pace.

“Fuck... ‘M close... So close...” He spoke through heavy pants, head now buried into your neck.

“Me too baby, me too, holy shit don’t stop... D-Don’t stop!” You felt the hot coil in your stomach get to a breaking point, the bed rocking slightly with Ethan’s movements as you started repeating his name between your moans.

Ethan’s hips pushed into you one last time, cock twitching as he came, filling the condom nearly to its brim. He groaned your name into your neck, breath hot against your love bite covered skin.

You followed right after, legs clamping down on him, your pussy clenching onto his cock and milking every last drop out of him. Your thighs trembled as you panted, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm with a few last sloppy thrusts.

His body collapsed on top of you, the weight almost comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his head. He moved his head to kiss you lazily, and you chuckled at how adorable he was being. He pressed a few kisses to your lips, eyes fluttering open soon after.

“Thank you...” He smiled sleepily, still coming down from the amazing high he’d experienced just then. “That was... Amazing...”

“Could say the same to you...” You smiled back, basking in the sweet after sex euphoria while you could. You whined slightly when he finally pulled out, suddenly feeling a bit empty.

Ethan disposed of the condom while you went to his bathroom to pee really quick. He sat back down on the bed and looked at his phone, seeing multiple messages from his roommate.

[chadmeister]: jesus christ

[chadmeister]: are u guys almost done

[chadmeister]: i’ve been here for like 20 minutes now you know

[chadmeister]: pretty sure the entire floor heard u two

[chadmeister]: at least u def won’t die a virgin now MY MANNN

tag list <3

@kometqh 

[ivystoryweaver]

im so interested in what u think the moon boys would be like as dads???

Ohhhhh, this is gonna hurt my heart. In a good way. I have a lot of feelings about Moon Dads and I've not yet written fics about it so yeah...

I'm gonna jump right in with Marc.

I think if Marc had a child, he would be all in: attentive, tender, affectionate.

I don't actually believe Marc would be afraid of parenting. I know that can be a popular hc/fic plot and I totally understand why, and love reading those.

But I think Marc would be one of those people that would try to do the opposite of what was done to him. Example: his parents were married and that went well... (sarcasm)

Yet Marc got married. He and Layla were together for years and, according to her, had "adventures together", meaning they worked as a (likely successful) team. Marc bailed on Layla once his mom passed and he could no longer control or hide his disassociations (plus Khonshu's threats for Layla to be his next avatar).

Point being: Marc did get married and seemed pretty successful at it, for the most part.

Marc is in charge of bath time. This includes little toy boats, fish that squirt water, bubbles. He's going to wash their hair, or whatever hair needs they have, depending on race and hair types. If it is a hair type he isn't as familiar with, he is going to be talking to his partner, looking up vids, whatever it takes. Touch is going to be so important to him. He is the dad who will know how to do french braids or styles for textured hair.

He's never going to react in anger. If he is angry, he's going to hand the reins to Steven or sometimes Jake (if he is able, it's obviously not a parlor trick), or he will just say to his little one, "Daddy is going to take a time out. I'll be back in a minute and we can have a talk." The idea of putting himself in time out is so endearing to his child that they end up calming from whatever misbehavior they were attempting, wanting to join him in the corner for time out, touching a plushie or reading a book in his lap.

They learn very young that their father's expressions can be stern but his hands are safe. They will not want to disappoint him.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Steven can converse naturally with children, this we see in the first episode. Steven's open, engaging nature is great for children. His own childlike wonder will shine in fatherhood. He was also able to quickly redirect the behavior of the girl who was littering at the museum. So a spunky child in a doctor's office waiting room will be easily wrangled by a distracting toy, quick game or wonderful story.

Steven is your go-to guy for bedtime stories. With a young child, Steven will share how wondrous the world around them is. He'll always have a anecdote or a fun fact for tweens or teens.

He will offer choices. "Do you want to put on 'jammies now or after a story?" "Do you want to help Dad set the table or feed the cat?" Steven has lacked agency in his life, so he is going to give it to his child. He will teach them to speak up for their needs.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake is going to be such a little shit as a dad. I'm sorry but there is no nicer way to say it lol. Jake's used to operating in the background and he's a night owl. He's the fun dad. He's the "don't tell mom" dad (or don't tell dad, dad). Kid wants stay up 15 extra minutes? It's Jake that's gonna sneak them some of the popcorn he popped after they were supposed to be asleep. As a partner, you'd find your little one on Jake's knee in the most comfy chair, watching the Yankees play baseball.

You give them The Look™ and they know they are busted. They exchange guilty glances and then Jake starts repeating words in Spanish. Baseball, Popcorn, very good! If you are already all Spanish speakers then Jake pretends to be practicing in both Spanish and English.

Either way, he and his little twin, with their adorable curls, give you shit eating grins.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Askbox

[marvelobsessed134]

i know you already did a story of Nikki hooking up with Tommy daughter

But I have an idea for one you could make

Modern day Nikki has a crush on the reader aka Tommy's daughter

Tommy and daughter go to visit Nikki in Wyoming they eat dinner at Nikki's house

As they all eat Nikki and her sit next to each at the table when Tommy isn't looking Nikki starts finger her a little later that night Tommy goes to bed

Nikki and her sneak out to his truck and have sex then just as they finish Tommy comes out outside Nikki and her hide in back of the truck Nikki throws a a blanket over so y'all won't get caught

Lol sorry this long it just came to me real fast

Sneaking around part two

Part one is here

Pairings: current!nikki sixx x fem!reader, current!tommy lee x fem!daughter!reader

Warnings: smut, vouyorism? (I totally spelt that wrong too), brief daddy kink, sneaking around, (almost) getting caught, Nikki cums inside reader, unprotected sex

It’s been a few months since you and Nikki hooked up and your father still doesn’t know about it.

This weekend Tommy dragged you along to visit Nikki in Wyoming which you were more than happy to do. You knew that after he falls asleep…the real fun happens.

Your step mom Brittany had a gig at the Laugh Factory in LA so she couldn’t join you guys. Which you were a little sad about but you decided to focus on Nikki.

Once the two of you arrived at his large house in the mountains, with a breathtaking view might you add, you got settled into guest bedrooms. Luckily there were enough rooms to where you didn’t have to share a room with your dad.

Because sneaking around would be a lot harder.

“Well it’s great to see you Y/n.” Nikki greeted you with a hug. He subtly felt you up which made your cheeks flush.

“It’s great to see you too Nikki.” You never really call him “uncle” anymore ever since you got older and started to become attracted to him. Your dad didn’t suspect a thing he was oblivious.

“I made dinner so come sit.” The bassist said as he led you to the dining room. During dinner all was well, just catching up with each other until Tommy was distracted on the phone.

Nikki’s hand creeped up the side of your legs before making its way under your skirt. Your eyes widened as you quickly turned your head towards him.

He put his finger over his lips a silent “shh” before pulling your panties aside and running his finger through your wet folds.

You hissed slightly as he toyed with your cunt before entering two fingers inside of you tight entrance.

“Yeah. Okay see ya.” Your dad hung up the phone and Nikki was eating his chicken as if his fingers weren’t knuckles deep inside of you.

You tried your best to act normal but the bastard made that very hard as his thumb caressed your clit. You hissed again as you tried to pick up your fork and take a bite.

The drummer had a concerned look on his face, “Are you okay sweetheart?”

“Yeah, dad. I’m fine just feeling some of those menstrual cramps coming on you know how it is.”

“Do you want to lay down?” Nikki interjected.

You nodded and smiled as best you could. You silently whined at the loss of his fingers inside of you but quickly got up to your room.

~Time Skip~

Later that night you laid restless wondering if Nikki was going to continue those little game of his.

Your phone pinged and you looked to see a text from the man himself.

Meet me in my truck. Now.

You quickly got out of bed and rushed outside quietly as to not wake anyone else. You ran outside in the cold Wyoming air in your thin pajamas. Making your way to Nikki’s truck you got inside and sat in the passengers seat.

The older man eyed you up and down, noticing how your nipples pebbled against the thin fabric of your tank top. He grabbed your head and pressed a hot, passionate kiss to your lips. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The two of you pulled away, breathless.

“Been waiting all day for this.” He groaned.

“Yeah? Well you clearly couldn’t wait when you fingered me at the dinner table with my dad across from us.”

“I just couldn’t help myself. I had to feel you again it’s been to long.”

“I didn’t even get to cum.”

His hands slid up to your waist and he leaned in, “Oh honey,” he said, “you’ll be cumming a lot this weekend.” That sent a shiver down your spine and he took the opportunity to pull your tank top over your head.

Nikki groped your breasts and toyed with your nipples as you rubbed the bulge in his pants.

“Jesus baby you’re too good to me. You shouldn’t be shacking it up with an old man.”

You moved to straddle him, “Yeah but I’m doing it anyway.” You grinned and he grinned back.

The bassist slapped your ass, “Dirty girl.” You grounded in his crotch, moaning at the friction.

He quickly pulled his cock out of his pants and you pulled your shorts and panties off before lowering your all yourself onto his shaft. You both moaned at the stretch and his hands gripped your hips as he started to move you up and down.

“Rub your clit for me baby.” He commanded and your hand moved down to your clit as you rubbed it in deep circles.

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head, your mind blank as you screamed. You knew why Nikki wanted you I his truck, so you could be as loud as you wanted.

“Such a good girl squeezing me so tight. Ah fuck!” The older man groaned, thrusting up into you hitting your g spot every time.

“I’m gonna cum!” You moaned breathlessly.

“Go ahead babygirl. Cum for daddy.” His words sent you over the edge as you clenched around him, your release dripping down his cock.

But Nikki didn’t stop, fucking into you as he came in your pussy.

The two of you were trying to catch your breaths when the light came in the foyer. The two of you froze and you dove into the back seat. Nikki grabbed a blanket and covered you completely.

Tommy came up to the truck and opened the door. “Hey man, what are you doing out here I heard some noise.”

“Oh uh….” His cheeks were red, he was embarrassed. “I was going to the corner store to get some snacks but I got distracted.”

Your dad looked down at his friends cock still leaking with his cum, “Clearly. Well I don’t judge I’ve jerked off in weirder places.” And he was off into the house.

You peaked out of the blanket, “Is he gone?”

“Yeah. That was close.”

[lampiridaes]

HIIII

Your finally open again 🫶🫶🫶

Can i request a tsukasa, rui and nene x reader (separate) and the plot is something like the song “something stupid” more specifically the verse “ the time is right your perfume fills my head the stars are read and oh the nights so blue, and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you “

Thank you xxxx I’ve missed youuu

♬ now playing: "i love you..."

-> saying you love them so suddenly, so unexpectedly... are you trying to give them a heart attack?

★ — chars ; tsukasa , rui , nene

★ — notes ; HELLO H :333 finally writing this. VERY SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!!! lowkey got rlly excited to write this then BAAM. SCHOOL WORK EVERYWHERE.!!!! also listen to the song on loop as i was writing (michael buble's cover ft reese witherspoon bc i LOVE michael buble's voice) and it got me in the mood!!! I HOPE U LIKE READING THIS AS MUCH AS I LOVED WRITING IT!!!

★ — warnings ; open endings for all of them (nothing rlly insane lol) , otherwise none!

★ — taglist ; @asherenjoysart , @nogenderbee , @akitosheart , @nenes-numberonefan , @mintchocaur

affiliated with @virtualbookstore ★

★ track one: tenma tsukasa

the day before, tsukasa had invited you to go with this festival with him. there'd be lights, games, prizes... just about any other regular festival.

and yet, here you are with him. people around you are chattering, 'you won!' sound effects can be heard blaring around the entire area.

... surely, if you dropped the 'L' word, he wouldn't hear it.

"...i love you, tsukasa."

a soft yet sad smile can be seen on your expression. you really just said that for no reason, didn't you? how silly.

well, that was what you thought until tsukasa turned back at you, with this bright red blush on his face. yep, definitely heard you.

"...you do?"

this might be the most quiet you've heard from the boy. you were surprised he could even say something like that in such a meek voice.

it's all up to you now. do you want to admit it, change your friendship with him, or would you rather deny it and go back to square one?

★ track two: kamishiro rui

like every other day, you go hang out with rui as he's working on robots for a future show. as always, he appreciates your company. you're a good friend to him, and you also don't touch his works in progress without letting him know.

... also, you tend to ask him questions as he works. not too many to distract him, of course. he finds that rather cute, whether you believe it or not.

he also finds you keeping him company endearing, making sure he doesn't feel lonely... and it seems like you have similar feelings.

"i love you."

is what you thought you thought to yourself, but when rui looked back at you with a startled look on your face, you suddenly realize that you, in fact, said it out loud.

"i meant- i meant your inventions! your work... it's really impressive, rui."

great save there. he totally believed that. especially with how much you stammered.

"oh, that's disappointing. i was about to say the same back to you."

rui had that signature smirk of his, though this one... you could easily tell he lacks the regular cool, level-headedness it usually has.

whatever his intention was, it ended up making you blush in the process. this guy is really going to be the death of you, isn't he?

★ track three: kusanagi nene

you really can't shut your mouth, can you? the original plan was to simply help nene memorize her lines, making sure everything sounded smooth.

yet now you found yourself gazing at her adoringly. one thing led to another, and you just had to tell her that-

"i love you."

it was as if time stopped. you cover your mouth with your hand, gasping with surprise. nene wasn't any different—she was in total disbelief. and if that wide-eyed look on her face told you anything...

"...it's the next character's lines. i'm just... trying to help, yeah?"

the awkward smile on your face didn't make your words any more believable. not to mention, nene has already scanned over the script, she already knows what the actual line is!

"...i love you too."

... that wasn't nene's line. mostly because that wasn't even the other line to begin with, but when nene said that...? oddly suspicious, in the best way possible.

when you finally have the courage to gaze at her once more, you can even catch a glimpse of her subtle yet gentle smile.

"that's my line, after yours."

in a way, she wasn't wrong.

[pedgito]

i just saw your post about glasses!eddie munson and whenever you have the time, would you be able to write a cute series of reader finding out about his glasses ITS JUST ADORABLE

author’s note: this was meant to post sooner than now but here it is lol, i finished this pretty quick but got sidetracked. glasses!eddie has invaded my brain and it’s never leaving.

cw: sfw, glasses!eddie, eddie’s not so subtle flirting, acquaintances to friends, once again another fic where everyone bullies eddie (give this man a break), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.5k

“Do you wanna switch seats with me?” Your voice is soft, leaning back toward Eddie, whose eyes are nearly closed from how hard he’s focusing on the board, blindly scribbling something down on the paper. He’s lost on where the voice comes from until you’re in focus, looking back at him with a smile.

Eddie wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy either. He was the boy who got picked on relentlessly and as much as you wanted to help, you weren’t sure it would change anything. Plus, he didn’t seem that bothered by it—or he was just really good at faking like he wasn’t.

“Oh,” Eddie replies, still confused, “I’ll be fine—Mr. Donahue’s handwriting is always shit, I can barely understand it.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but it was still legible.

“Munson!” The teacher's voice rings from the front of the classroom, “let's stop trying to distract other classmates and focus on our own work, okay?”

And if it wasn’t the condescension in his tone that pissed you off, it was the way he so quickly blamed Eddie for the interaction. He shrinks slightly, sending you an apologetic look.

It happens a few more times that week, catching Eddie glancing at the board as if it’s nearly impossible to see—and maybe he was telling the truth, but it’s also obvious that Donahue hates Eddie for no other apparent reason than just because he thinks he’s up to no good, which isn’t fair to Eddie.

You show up early to class the following week, bag resting in the chair of the desk beside you—Eddie’s usual seat, waiting. He’s always bordering on being late, making it to class as the bell rings, looking more frazzled than the others.

You weren’t sure what he got up to between classes, but he definitely seemed overwhelmed.

“This seat taken?” He asks with a smug smirk, pointing at your backpack. You smile slightly, reaching for it.

“Sorry—I just wanted to make sure I could sit beside you.” You tell him honestly. It throws Eddie off, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly before relaxing, eyes roaming over you curiously. “You said you can’t understand his handwriting, I was gonna let you copy my notes.”

“Can I copy your work too?” Eddie asks jokingly, but you can tell he means it. “I’m barely scraping by with a D in this class.”

You snort out a quiet laugh. “Let’s worry about the notes first.”

Eddie spends most of the class still struggling, forehead creased up as he sifts through your notes, writing things down sparingly. It’s almost like he’s trying not to be mean, focusing a little too hard on one word every now and then as he looks over, your papers perched on the corner of the desk.

“If my writing is horrible you can tell me,” You say, which makes Eddie chuckle, “seriously, I won’t be offended.”

“It’s not that,” He assures you, “it’s just—the angle, it’s a little hard to read them—“

“Oh, well,” You grab the papers in a bunch, extending them toward him, “here, just take them.”

Eddie ignored you, his fingers wrapping around the leg of your desk to pull it flush against his—it’s quick enough that it doesn’t make much noise, only a slight shifting that draws a few eyes.

“Or…that works too.” You say shyly, face heating up at his straightforwardness. “Better?”

He glances over, shifting the papers to his side and gives a subtle nod as his lips pull together in a tight line, “Yeah, actually.”

And it’s almost blissful silence as Eddie copies them down, asking a few questions when your words meld together out of habit when you’re writing too quickly, he still leans in slightly but you don’t pester him on it—eventually Eddie’s actions are noticed, all eyes shifting toward the back of the classroom.

When you look up, everyone is staring back, including the pensive and threatening eyes of your teacher.

Eddie mumbles a soft, “Sorry.” as he pushes your desk back.

“Do I need to remind you two that this isn’t a matchmaking class?”

And it’s a ridiculous comment to make, but it has Eddie scoffing slightly underneath his breath.

“I’m letting him copy my notes,” You say innocently, “is that okay?”

You can’t remember having a problem in any of your classes, either flying under the radar or one of the usual favorites—you’ve never felt this tense, staring down the entirety of the group that was staring right back, though your gaze was focused on Mr. Donahue.

Eddie looks at you briefly before settling his eyes toward the desk, fiddling with pen in his hands to soothe his anxiety.

“If Eddie has a problem, he can come sit up front,” He says coarsely, “I don’t think you have the wiggle room to be socializing, do you?”

And suddenly his gaze on you is forgotten, flicking toward Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t give him the satisfaction, shuffling his shoulders forward in an effort to hide himself, scribbling something random down on the paper in front of him—it’s something he did when was bored or uncomfortable, even, a comfort.

You catch Eddie toward the end of class, gripping his sleeve before he can sneak away.

“How far behind are you?” You ask him, peering up at him curiously. Eddie looks sheepish, glancing away for a moment.

“Uh, I haven’t really taken notes all semester—I kinda just..scribble shit down so it looks like I’m working.”

Your eyes slant down slightly, in an ire of disbelief as your mouth parts, “Eddie, are you serious?”

He shrugs, reaching a hand up to scratch his jaw. You huff through your nose, snatching the pen perched in Eddie’s pocket and uncapping it before shoving it into his hands.

“Give me your address.” You insist, holding out your arm to him. Eddie seems skeptical, fingers wrapping around your arm gently, shifting your sleeve up, “I’m getting you caught up—don’t look at me like that.”

And truly, he’s not sure how to respond. Kindness and niceties weren’t at all familiar, feeling like there was always some ulterior motive. Still, he scribbles down the information with slow strokes, careful that it doesn’t smudge—leaving a small smiley face out of spite, forcing a similar expression onto your own face.

“I’m free after six,” He tells you, “so unless you want to get caught up in awkward conversation with my uncle, wait until then.”

You laugh at that, pulling your sleeve down.

“How else am I supposed to uncover all of your secrets?”

Eddie smirks slightly, eyes averting toward the floor.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—you just have to ask.”

He spends most of his nights—sans the ones where he’s performing for the small audience at The Hideout or hosting Hellfire meetings—organizing campaigns and writing down random things that come to his mind, feeling the need to get the thought out on paper, even if it’s song lyrics or a drawing.

He adjusts the thin rimmed glasses up his nose, eyes hurting from the strain he’s forced them through all day. He knows he should spend a few minutes resting, even just closing his eyes for a moment, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows it’s his fault, the beginnings of a headache forming as he tries to focus, his finger sneaking up to rub at his eye—he can feel the haziness, willing it away.

But then you’re knocking at his door and every thought is thrown out the window—part of him never expected you to show, his heart thrumming in his chest as he leaps from the bed, tossing the papers away haphazardly and forcing the glasses up into his hair without a thought, pushing his bangs away from his face.

Eddie whips the door open, causing you to startle slightly.

“Hi.” You say wearily, a soft smile on your face.

“Hi,” Eddie responds slightly out of breath, before clearing his throat and offering a smoother, “Hey.”

Your eyes glance up, noticing the difference in his face. His bangs were like a trademark, constantly hiding his eyebrows. You point up curiously, speaking before you can think things through.

“You wear glasses?” You ask, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“No—no uh, of course not.” Eddie responds quickly, adamant in his refusal. “Why would you—“

He’s clearly caught off guard, standing awkwardly in the doorway, eyes crossing as he follows your finger, only realizing his mistake when you drag the glasses down slowly, pushing them gently up the bridge of his nose.

“Well, that is definitely an interesting pair of non-existent glasses.” You say jokingly, grinning at his embarrassment, cheeks flushing a deep red.

It’s hard to explain how perfectly they fit his face—like it’s the missing piece that pulls him together. He’s not dressed up like usual, in a faded graphic shirt and gray pair of sweats, no jacket or rings in sight. It’s natural—and it’s in that split second you can see the real Eddie. Not the threatening, menacing Eddie Munson that everyone played him out to be.

Eddie nods wearily, beckoning you inside.

“I won’t tell anyone,” You promise him with a tinge of amusement, rounding on him as he closes the door, shoving the stack of papers at his chest, “—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Eddie pulls the glasses off of his face, folding them up.

“It’s not that,” Eddie tells you, “—didn’t mean for you to find out about them, it kinda ruins the whole image, you know?”

Image. It makes you laugh to yourself silently.

“You didn’t seem like you were trying to hide them,” You giggled slightly, “besides, I don’t think they ruin anything.”

“I kinda forgot you were coming.” Eddie lies, knowing he had been riddled with nerves since he stepped foot inside of the trailer that evening, not understanding why he was so anxious to begin with.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep or anything—“ You stop briefly, sighing softly, “but if you need a tutor or even just…some help, I don’t mind.”

Eddie doesn’t really know how to take it, staring at you like you’d grown a second head.

“I study with Nancy a lot,” You explain, “it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m a lost cause,” Eddie admits with half-smile, “there’s no saving me.”

“I don’t believe that,” You tell him honestly, approaching him to shove the glasses back toward his chest, his other hand still stuffed full with the papers containing your notes, “—seriously, put them back on and I can spend a couple hours seeing where you’re at.”

Eddie listens, though skeptically, placing the glasses back onto his face—you smile without really thinking, causing him to react similarly.

“It’s okay to let someone be nice to you,” You assure him, “as many assholes as there are at Hawkins, there’s still a few of us who mean well.”

“I can’t be taught, I’m just warning you now.” Eddie remains adamant, leading the way toward his room. You follow behind eagerly, taking in the abstract way of decoration littered around the trailer.

“Fine—you can at least show me your drawings then.”

Eddie looks back at you briefly, a confused grin on his face.

“I’m really observant,” You tease, “and curious.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Eddie asks.

“I’ve already got one secret to keep,” You respond, teasing him lightly, “what’s one more?”

“How bad is it?” You ask him, staring up expectantly.

“What—oh, my eyes?” Eddie asks, “Uh, kinda bad. It’s okay, though—I manage.”

You crease your eyebrows together, motioning for him to remove the glasses. He does, watching as you reach for a paper, holding it up in front of him.

“Tell me when you can read it clearly.”

Eddie nods, squinting as you move the paper closer and closer, until it’s only a few inches from his face, your eyes widening in shock.

“Eddie,” You stress, “you can’t be serious?”

“I told you I manage,” He argues with a slight laugh, “but it’s bad, I meant that.”

Your expression remains the same, arms falling to your side as you discarded the paper.

“They look weird,” Eddie defends, “that’s why I only wear them at home—I already get enough shit at school anyways.”

“Bullshit,” You say boldly, “they do not look weird.”

Unfortunately, you did see all of the relentless teasing he caught at school, that wasn’t lost on you.

“You don’t have to lie,” Eddie says, “it won’t bother me.”

“I’m not,” You counter, smiling as the glasses returned to his face, his eyelashes touching the lenses, bangs brushing against the rim, “they fit you—they’re…cute.”

Eddie snorts in disbelief, “Okay, enough.”

You smile to yourself, watching as his cheek flushed a faint pink.

“Can I try them on?”

Eddie doesn’t answer outright, pulling them away from his face and handing them over—they’re a little bigger, his more prominent facial structure different from yours and causing the glasses to slide down your nose slightly. You push them up with your finger, squinting at the strain it puts on your eyes.

You can see Eddie smiling over the rim, admiring how perplexed you look in the moment, “Don’t look at me like that,” You say playfully, “these things are really strong.”

Eddie shakes his head, “It’s—nothing, nevermind.” He pulls the glasses from your face gently, placing them back on his own.

And Eddie’s never been shy, but suddenly he can’t force the words out, afraid of the mix of both rejection and embarrassment.

“I like you like this,” You tell him, hoping it eases him, seeing how tense he was—clearly unloved by many, “I mean, I like you both ways but this—it’s nice.”

“You’re the first.” He says flippantly, not aimed at you for any specific reason. He’s not immune to the words thrown at him, they do start to wear on him after time, even if he brushes them off for the most part.

“They’re insane,” You tell him with a surety, “all of them.”

“Careful,” Eddie treads, “Jason would have a fuckin’ field day if he heard you say that.”

You shrug, smugness in your expression.

“He’s terrified of me.”

“Jason—terrified of you?” Eddie asks, begging for more clarification.

“Our parents are friends—I’ve seen…a lot.” You say cryptically, not wanting to dive into details, “I’m not one for blackmail but I’m not totally above it.”

“You’re so interesting,” Eddie speaks candidly.

“I’ll take that was a compliment?” You respond, “Hopefully.”

Eddie nods with a subtle smile.

“Well—like you said,” You start, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I’ll tell you anything, just ask.”

You hold your finger up as his mouth opens—

“But, notes first—secrets later.”

Eddie pushes his glasses up comedically, forcing a quiet laugh from you—it’s the exact reaction he wants. He settles, agreeing with your rules.

“Deal.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[claraswritings]

Stay For Now, I Love You Forever

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader (a tiny bit of Marc Spector x Reader- pining)

Summary: Steven meets a girl. Steven falls for her. Marc falls too.

Warning: Some angst. Set mostly pre-series. (Also for the sake of the fic, Marc is already divorced). First time writing Steven/Marc/Moon Knight system. This is not spell checked as I’m posting at nearly 2AM lol.

A/N: Meant to finish this sooner but I got Covid :( Tagged @marvelenthusiast10 )

***

“Okay Steven…what’s your symptoms.”

The man before you shifted in the chair, drumming his fingers on his jeans, eyes flickering over the walls. It looked like he was battling the urge to run away. It was obvious that he felt awkward, and you couldn’t blame him. It was pretty bizarre having to explain your sleep symptoms to a total stranger.

“Right…” Steve started then trailed off “Sorry Uhh…” he hesitated once more as he looked away from you and rested his gaze on the view from the window. where he could see I t had started to snow heavily.

“Huh…it’s snowing.” He commented “Didnt know it was going to snow? Did you?…Do you think the buses will be running?”

Sensing his rambling was a outburst of nerves, something to distract himself, you attempted to placate him “I didn’t…but I like the snow… I’m sure the buses will be fine but I’ll check the TfL website for you before you go. Do you need a drink?”

Steven brought his dark eyed gaze back to you. “Right sorry, sorry…” he muttered, scratching his jaw… “I’ll get to the point and stop rambling…”

“It’s okay…take your time…” you reassured him. “I have lots of time”

He hesitated, once more before he took a breath for composure

“Okay, so sometimes, yeah, I wake up… and…I‘ve lost… hours or even sometimes days at a time…like couple of weeks ago… I went to bed on Friday…” he gestured, with one hand, the sleeve of his over sized jacket sliding up as he did “but I woke up on Sunday…but I’m still tired…Fell asleep on the bus…” he trailed off for only long enough to rake a hand through his wavy dark hair “Feel like I’ve been hit by one too.”

He gave you a muted smile, as he pulled the long sleeves of his blue jacket back down.

Your lips lifted at corner as a response to his joke, and you nodded slowly, writing down what he was saying.

“That’s not normal is it? Losing days…” He frowned a little, his gaze on you, as you could feel him almost crying out for help “I feel like I’m losing my bloody mind.” He mumbled, his voice quiet.

“No Steven, you’re not, a lack of sleep can do all sorts of things to our bodies, that’s why I’m here. Sleep is a very difficult thing to get right… but we can help you…once we work out what might be causing whatever is happening…do you have any other symptoms? Do you ever sleep walk?”

“See… I thought maybe I did, cause I’d wake up and be like coming back through the door…” Steven leant forward, uncrossing his arms to draw a circle in the air “But like the sand circle would still be yknow in a circle, right? So I can’t be?” He spoke as if he was offering a suggesting, shoulders moving up and down in a shrug that did not look as nonchalant as he had clearly hoped

Now he’d lost you.

“Sand circle?”

“Oh god I’m gonna sound like a right weirdo…” he flopped back in the seat. “I put the sand circle around my bed…, yeah, cause if I was sleep walking I’d shuffle and ruin it.” Steven explained with a wave of his hand. “Wouldn’t I?”

You had to admit it, it was clever, if a little unconventional. “Yeah, that’s actually quite a good idea… never heard that one but I like it.” You nodded encouragingly. As the years you’d spent helping set up various sleep studies, you’d heard all the classics-no caffeine, no cheese, lavender oil, hot baths, white noise, black out curtains… but you’d never heard of using a sand circle to test if you were sleeping walking.

“That and the restraint on the bed.” Steven tacked on then instantly realised what he clicked your eyebrows shooting upwards “Not like that...I’m not like…” He muttered, a red creeping up over his face, as his hand crept up to itch the back of his neck. “Don’t really get the chance for anything like that with the…funny sleeping stuff and that…” he trailed off.

stoptalking stoptalking stoptalking stoptalking. He told himself internally and shook his head, trying not to visibly shudder at his own awkward comment. How he’d just told you, the prettiest woman he’d seen in…god knows how long, that he had a restraint on his bed. God Steven, way to show off your glaring red flag.

“You…you have a restraint?” you paused, trying not to smile at the flustered man before you, as he now was staring directly at the spot where your desk met carpet. “To prevent the sleepwalking of course.”

The comment about not having the chance stuck out to you. Must mean he’s single.

“Yeah, uh..I have tape too for the… for the door. So I can’t get out and bother anyone…Tried to keep myself up aswell, listened to a podcast and did the stuff it said… puzzles, reading books, all that…didn’t work though…”

His eyes shot back to you as hand ran through his thick wavy hair again Everything about him was a bundle of nerves from the fidgeting to the eyes looking from you to the window and back to the tangents, now on top of that, he was worried his sleep issue would bother anyone. You couldn’t help but feel for him.

“And how long have you been using these… techniques for?”

“Oh god…” he blew out a long exhale “I don’t actually know…to be quite honest…ages now…Doctor”

“It’s okay Steven, anything that can help you is worth trying…and I’m not a doctor… I’m a sleep…tech…” you held your hands up. “I just check you in and help with results.”

“Oh..sorry…” he faltered, a little embarrassed , trying to find the words “…Ms. Sleep… Tech…Technician?… Technologist?”

He cringed inwardly at his own sentence only seconds after the words had left his mouth and for the… he’d lost count… time since he’d entered the room.

“Just….[Name]”

Once again, you weren’t pulling back, recoiling or phased by his awkwardness. You were, much to his surprise, smiling at him. Not the weird passive smile Donna gave him when asking, or rather telling him, to stay late. Not the fake nicety smile exhausted tourists usually gave him, you were actually smiling at him like you thought he was funny. The smile you were giving him was so genuine and warm, he felt himself relax under your eyes.

“You must always be well rested. Must be nice.” Steven attempted to extend the conversation, hoping his attempt wasn’t too ungraceful.

“Ah. You’d be surprised,” There was a smile toying at the corner of your mouth “I’m better at giving advice than I am at following it.”

“Suppose It’s like chefs innit…they come home and probably just Deliveroo themselves a Nando’s or KFC or something?”

You laughed “Yeah, exactly what I mean…Now look…I know this is going to sound cliche but…problems with sleep, it’s more common than you think.” Pausing, you put your notebook down, and leant in, elbows planted on the desk. “But basically in your deepest stage of sleep… your brain switches off the muscles… so you won’t be acting out your dreams or anything crazy. If you are in that stage, you won’t go anywhere, Steven.”

You turned one of your folders over and pushed a case plan towards him, and pointing out the diagrams with the end of your pen.

“We’ll chart your brainwaves whilst you’re asleep… then we can use them to work out what’s going on.”

“And that’ll help me?” He sounded hopeful as his gaze ran over the notes, following your make shift pointer.

“Yeah I hope so, i mean it might not stop the processes but it’ll help us understand what’s going on.”

“You must think I’m a right weirdo…but it’s nice…to talk to someone that isn’t my fish…or the living statue bloke,” Steven turned back to you, giving you a thankful look. “Or my boss.” He pulled a face.

“I don’t think you’re weird, Steven… I want to help you. I’ll listen for as long as you need me to”

You hadn’t automatically assumed he was some weirdo which was a relief. He felt comfortable with you like you actually wanted to help him rather than judging him.

There was a moments silence, then your eyes flicked down to the notebook that lay between you and back to Steven.

“Do you drink tea…or coffee?”

“Oh… um, just tea with soy milk and one sugar. Sometimes a hot chocolate? Although that’s not caffeine is it? I wouldn’t mind one of those flavoured ones, Think they do them that cafe around the corner if you’d like?” He grinned somewhat awkwardly “they do refills…which you know in London, gotta get your moneys worth… it’s expensive.”

You felt a heat creep up your face “Erm…it’s for the questionnaire? I need to know how much caffeine you’re drinking?”

“Oh..oh god I’m sorry, I’ve just put my foot in it havent I?… I thought you were…and now I’m rambling, I do that…”

“But…yes Steven. I’d love to have any hot drink with you…”

“Wait. Really?” Steven faltered, surprised.

“Of course. I finish at half five. I’ll meet you there.”

And when you’d walked into the cafe, saw him already waiting there, drink gently steaming on the table and book in hand, reading glasses on, you’d slid in beside him and had never looked back.

*

When Steven offered to meet you at your flat to go for dinner two days later, you agreed. It was suggestion, that had it come from any of the fuck boys in your Tinder matches would have had you hitting the un match button…but with Steven…you knew he was being sweet.

You knew he wasn’t just asking to try get into your place and into your underwear, although you wouldn’t have minded. He was asking because he didn’t want you to walk to the Tube station alone in the dark.

Steven had wrapped up in a winter coat, and worn a dark blue scarf and matching gloves. He brought chocolate and a dozen pink roses, which as he’d handed over, he’d told you that he noticed your notebook had been pink and thought it was a safe bet for the colour. Before you could say thank you he’d already apologised for the chocolates incase you hated them or incase he’d got the colour wrong.

You’d kissed him on the cheek, told them they were perfect and that you’d share the chocolates with him, before linking your gloved hands together and starting your walk to your favourite Asian restaurant in Camden, where he’d had a tofu version of a curry and you’d had chicken teriyaki skewers. It was closing time before you’d left arm in arm, giggling as you walked together.

As you made your way back to the Tube station, Steven had excitedly wanted to try a bubble waffle, so you’d opted for a shared vegan friendly version and ate it with two forks. You’d hugged him outside the station then met him outside his work two days later…and before long you’d fallen into an easy pattern of dating.

The first time he hadn’t called when he said he would, was one month into dating and he was eight hours late. Steven had saw the voicemails left from you and panicked, fully expecting the “you’re an arsehole, never talk to me again” but no, you’d called him to check he was okay, came by his place and even posted a card through his letterbox telling him you were thinking of him and you hoped he was okay.

You were worried.

Steven kept that card in the top drawer of his beside table alongside a napkin from your first date, one of the gratuity sweets from your second, the first note you’d ever wrote to him, a puzzle you’d bought to do together and a model pyramid you’d saw online and thought of him. You’d said you just saw it on Amazon, but it wasn’t one you could just buy. Steven knew from the model that you’d have had to buy it from a specific retailer. You’d never tell him you googled it specifically but he loved that you did.

He knew he loved you then and there

*

“Hey babe.” You stuck your head around the entrance to the gift shop and grinned at him.

Steven, at the sight of you, dropped the plush back into a box and ran to you, squeezing you tight.

“Hiya love, I’m just finishing up here. Won’t be five minutes and I’ll be over to you” he kept his hands on your waist as you wrapped yours around his neck and kissed him before reaching up and straightening the collar of his patterned shirt

“Okay, babe. I’ll just wander around. We can go to that new bakery if you like. I’ve checked the menu, they do have vegan options.”

His lips curled into a smile and he squeezed your hand by way of thanking you before you headed off to wait for him.

“That sounds brilliant. Really good!”

“Stevie!” A call rang out from across the room and Steven rolled his eyes

“Oh fuck Donna.”

“Stevie! I told you the answers no. So just stop talking to guests…alright? Leave it to the real tour guides…”She turned to you, not giving him the chance to reply “Is he bothering you?”

“Actually…” you wrapped your arm around Steven. “He’s not. I’m…”

“Oh…Stevie’s girlfriend.” Donna pointed at you “Gunna be honest, thought he’d made you up. Kept saying you were dead pretty and let him talk. Didn’t actually think you were real.” She laughed mirthlessly. “Thought he was bothering the guests again!”

“Well Steven is a wealth of information, and I want my info from the best source” you gave her as friendly of a smile as you could muster.

“Best source is a tour guide” she smiled “but I’m glad he has someone to listen to his weird rambling.”

“I’d rather hear about it from someone with a passion for it”

“I’m sure our guides are plenty passionate.” She turned on her heel to face Steven. “Clock off please. I’m not paying you to chat to your girlfriend.”

“Sure, Donna. Pleasure as always.” He gave a curt wave, however she had already stalked off before she could return the acknowledgment. “Back in a sec, love.” He leant in and pecked your lips before disappearing off to clock out.

When he returned a few minutes later you linked you arm through his, and noticing he looked slightly dejected, attempted to offer him some comfort.

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. I’ve done a few of these tours and I’ve learnt more from listening to you at home than I have from any of them”

“Really?” He perked up “Cause we have this new exhibit, it’s basically like the super group of Egyptian gods and it’s really interesting…the posters only show seven but there’s nine and…” Steven was suddenly conscious he was babbling but when he looked at you, he was still holding your attention.

“Tell me about it?” You asked him.

“About the super group?” Steven was quick to check, excited at the chance to discuss his passion before stopping. “I don’t want to bore you, love”

“You won’t.” You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze through

Steven could never bore you, everything about him was captivating. He was so excited and so passionate about Egyptian mythology that you couldn’t help but be drawn in by his wide eyed enthusiasm. You liked it when he went off on a tangent. It was cute.

“I love you, you know. And not just because you let me go on about Egyptology or that, I just really do love you, and I never thought I’d get that.”

“I love you too Steven.” You kissed him. “Now tell me about these super gods, I wanna know about the missing ones…”

***a few weeks later***

Marc froze. You were half asleep-half awake, the lights from the window, casting bright lights through the window of Stevens flat. You looked angelic, the slopes of your face, the curves of your body as you pulled the duvet tighter.

He’d watched from the background as you and Steven had fallen for each other over the past few months and Marc had, having seen how you were to Steven, had fallen for you too.

He’d realised it when he saw how gentle you were with Steven, after he’d woken one night when you’d been staying the night. He’d stumbled back to bed, a struggle to keep control of the body and barely collapsed into a half slumber before Steven had woke with a jolt around fifteen minutes later, pulling hard at the restraint and checking around him.

**flashback**

“Hey hey, it’s me babe, you’re okay…” you, on instinct, sat up next to Steven. He was checking the restraint, pulling at it hard to make sure it was in place. “…Steven, babe. You’re here, I’m with you, it’s okay.”

You reached for him slowly not making contact until Steven turned to meet your eyes. He was breathing heavy, chest heaving and shoulders tight, brow furrowed as you wrapped one arm around him and held his hand with the other.

“Steven. You haven’t had anything like this in a while.”

It was the first time you’d been there when it had happened. Usually, if Steven had a rough night, he’d call you and you’d talk and you’d stay with him listening.

“Im here babe.” You whispered

“Youre here.” His voice sounded so small and lost and such a far cry from how you’d ever heard him. A part of your heart broke seeing your usual bubbly, chatty Steven such a wreck. “I thought you’d left.”

“No. No.” You pulled him into you, lying back with his head on your shoulder as you carefully carded your hand through his curls. “I’m not leaving.…” You reached for his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please stay for now”

“Of course, for as long as you need me.”

**

Marc had felt so guilty that night that he’d resolved that he wouldn’t go far when you were staying the night. Steven deserved some happiness, a sense of peace, some chance to be normal so tonight he’d kept it short, a quick hour before returning back to you.

Marc wondered if he’d met you first…rather than Steven, would you have fallen in love with him? Would you be stroking circles on his back and whispering sweet nothings to him when he woke in the dead of the night, freaked out and panicking.

He doubted it. Everything you loved was so rooted in Steven. Sweet, endearingly quirky, good-natured, warm hearted, clever Steven, who was nothing like Marc.

You were always staring at Steven, looking in his big wide eyes, playing with the fluffy curls that Marc usually slicked back, sliding your hands under Steven’s oversized clothes that Marc hated, asking him questions about the book Steven was reading that Marc didn’t know anything about, offering suggestions for whatever puzzle Steven was looking at that Marc didn’t care for, you cooked Steven vegan versions of your own lunches where Marc would have preferred the meat, you left cute notes for Steven to find. You called him Babe all the time.

Steven deserved the world but, god how Marc was jealous. He wanted you to look at him the way you looked at Steven. He could feel it heavy on his shoulders as he breathed and like an open wound in his chest.

“Steven?” He froze in the spot where he was, you turned over in the bed, voice half asleep. “Come back to bed. It’s cold.” You muttered

“Shhh, back to sleep.” He had hoped you wouldn’t notice the change from London to American as he whispered approaching the bed.

“Babe you’re talking different.” you muttered.

The second of silence that passed felt like an age to Marc, the only sound was his hammering heart rate, before you filled the room with a sleepy laugh “You’re so funny…I love you Steven.”

And like that you were back to sleep, leaving Marc alone with his own racing heart.

**a few weeks later**

Steven had been gone for five days. You’d spent most of your mornings leaving early for work to drop in on him and see if he’d shown up, your lunch breaks scouring the local news to see if an anonymous man had shown up in any hospitals, you’d called almost every hospital and police station within a ten mile radius. The police had told you they’d “note his name and description” and let you know. By Wednesday you’d even went to his work twice only for Donna to tell you Steven doesn’t work here.

You’d began to wonder you should be going back to the police to tell them the missing person you’d reported still had not shown up when you heard a knocking at your door

“Gimme a minute,” You called out as pulled yourself off the sofa and headed to the door. Hauling it open you half expected to see your neighbour or the postman. What you were not expecting to see was your boyfriend, in a baggy navy jumper, hair sticking up at all angles and looking like he’d come off a 72 hour all nighter.

He wouldn’t have of course, Steven barely drank so you couldn’t process exactly how or what the fuck had happened until he spoke.

“Hi.” He managed to get out “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

“Steven…You‘ve been gone for days…where the fuck where you?” Your mouth formed the words, quieter, more concerned than angry.

Instead of saying a word, you felt him slump into your arms, exhausted.

“Fucking hell Steven, what happened?” You repeated yourself with a mutter as you looped an arm around his waist and the other you used to support him and helped him to the couch, where he flopped down. Your heart ached just looking at him.

“Don’t go.” He murmured, “Stay here.”

“I’m just getting you a blanket and a cuppa, babe… okay?” You brushed some of his curls back as he nodded. “I’ll be back in two minutes… I promise.”

You kissed his head and exactly two minutes later, you returned a steaming mug of tea and your favourite sage green blanket. You’d bought it in the Dunlem sale and it never left your bed until it made its way to Stevens. You’d wrapped him in it once when he’d fallen asleep at his desk and he’d looked so adorable you’d insisted he kept it.

“Are you okay? Should I be calling an ambulance or the police or something?”

His hands knotted around the edges as you draped it over him and sat the mug in front of him. You sat in silence beside him until he’d had a few large gulps. Steven shook his head

“I’m okay…no ambulance. no police needed. It’s alright..”

“Steven. You have to tell me where you were.” You tried “Please. I thought you were missing or dead, I kept expecting to see your picture on the news as a fucking body found.”

“You wouldn’t believe me…” he let out a tiny impression of a laugh “I mean not just you… no one would and I don’t blame them.”

“I will…I promise.”

“It sounds made up”

“Babe, not that long ago Spider-Man had a fight on Tower Bridge, and before that half the world disappeared and came back and before that Thor had a fight with that…alien thing in Greenwich and before that if you’d asked me, I’d say that shit only happens in New York but I’m three out of three of mad things that have happened to me so nothing you say is going to freak me out… but saying nothing is…” You pressed your head to his. “Please…please tell me where you were.”

Steven sighed, you looked so desperate to help, so worried and he could hear Marc, telling him to be honest with you, not being honest with Layla had cost him his relationship, and although they were still friends, he didn’t want the same to happen to you.

“Yeah okay…” he started “but you got to let me tell you the whole thing, alright? No matter how mental it sounds.”

You smiled. “Of course.”

And for the whole time, you kept your attention on him, nodding, asking questions and squeezing his hand”

“Suppose that’s it all.” He said with a finish “I’ll understand if you don’t want to go out with me anymore…”

“Steven.” You pulled him into a hug, hands reaching up to rub his back. “I believe you and I love you and of course I still want to go out with you.”

“But all I do is cause problems for everyone…I don’t want to mess up your-.”

“You could never be a problem. Not for me.”

“I will eventually.”

“Steven, there is no problem you could cause that would be too big. You were never a problem to me.” Your head shook vehemently “and you never will be. Not now, not ever. You and me always.”

“I love you…” he muttered leaning in and pressing his head to yours so softly “forever”

“…I love you so much.”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me…us.” He paused, as you tilted your head with a smile “Marc won’t come forward now but he cares for you. A lot.”

“Steven, you will always be enough for me…but one day I’d like to meet him…Marc…if that’s okay with both of you…when he’s ready.”

Steven nodded. “I think he’d like that too.”

The relief lifted a weigh off his shoulders and he felt himself settle back into the sofa. You joined him, and slipped your arms around him, pulling the blanket around you both.

“I’ve missed you.” You muttered quietly.

“I missed you too.”

Steven kissed you softly and started to apologise before you planted another kiss on his lips, softly and gently.

“Shhh, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m just glad I have my boyfriend back.” You gave him an easy smile and he leant in.

.“I’m glad I’m back too…love. To the rest of our lives Eh?” He leant in to you as you repeated his sentiment.

“To the rest of our lives”

[taxkha]

i love your art so much i can't even describe it!! for the past year, every time i see it, it inspires me to create and improve so much i can't be jealous; i can only work harder hoping i can invoke the same feeling in someone else one day. your masterful use of loose lines and cozy colors never fails to make me happy on the rainiest day. do you have any tips for establishing such atmospheres, such as color selection or particular poses or expressions? (i don't write very well, sorry if this seems confusing) -an anon who appreciates your work to the fullest

Oh my god anon, you are so sweet, thank you so much (ಥ﹏ಥ) It means so much to hear I inspire someone to draw and I'm happy I can motivate you! <3 Please keep it up and I would love to see what you are making if you ever feel like sharing it! x) I'm so happy to hear my art has such a positive impact on you!! Okay so regarding your questions! When it comes to colors I recently made a coloring tutorial where I also went a bit into how I select colors, how I shade and what my go to effect layers are, you can find it here but it's also currently pinned at the top of my blog! I explained it in my tutorial but I will say it here again, I rely a lot on effect layers. That isn't wrong by any means and is what I would argue most digital artists do but if you want to learn actual color theory that goes beyond what colors compliment each other I unfortunately cant help with that on my own nor do I have any guides at hand to redirect you to :") Speaking of complimentary colors though, knowing your color wheel and which colors contrast each other already helps a lot! My favourites are green/red and orange/blue! To give some examples: green/red

These are less about an atmosphere achieved through lighting but more about the general subject matter of the piece. They are both more ominous and uh, bloody and threatening. And for Orange/Blue

The orange and blue combination is something you see in a lot of movies, for example Mad Max Fury Road or Blade Runner 2049 and many many more which have likely influenced me on what colors I chose in my art to some extend. Paying attention to media other than your own helps a ton and can totally improve on how you approach you art! Like, obviously I draw mostly anime/manga esque art and I get most of my inspiration from manga and video games, but I also try and look at buildings when Im outside, look closely at shot compositions in movies and so on! Other inspirations that have helped me are artbooks from my favorite games/shows/series, if you enjoy those x) Theres probably PDFs to be found of a lot of artbooks online if you don't want to spend money on them. I know you didn't directly ask what my inspirations are lol but they absolutely helped me! OKAY SO now about poses and expressions. Since you mentioned my loose lines, I have very good advice for that: Draw without erasing. Get a scrap book or some lose paper, cheap paper! And a pen you cant erase, such as a fineliner or a ballpoint pen and then draw. Do not go into it with the intent to make an actual good drawing, just. Draw! Draw half finished faces, hands, bodies, cats, whatever you feel like. Fill up the entire page. If you don't want to waste any paper, do it digitally but don't erase! Do that a lot. You will train yourself to draw loser and loser as time goes on. I've always had the habit of doodling onto everything mindlessly and I still do so I never had to actively practice drawing lose lines but thats most likely the reason why I draw the way I do! I actually have some examples from today because I got distracted at work:

I just draw whatever comes to mind until the page is full. I usually don't even keep these pages :") It has helped me a lot though. Uh yeah thats pretty much everything?? Thanks so much again for sending this ask, it was a very sweet thing to wake up to and I hope my rambles here can be of any help and to you good luck in your art endeavors!! :) <3

[soulsforsales]

Professor Steven Grant x Reader

Warning: This is my first fic (Idk if that should be a warning but I am scared lol), fluff, age gap, no use of Y/N, sorry for any grammatical mistakes

Summary: You always had a weak spot for nerds but Steven Grant might just be the man of your dreams.

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader (yes, we do have Marc and Jake in the next chapters!)

Thankyou @ivystoryweaver for your ideas and support <3

Chapter 1

It is a warm Tuesday afternoon in October. You are browsing the books in the "classics" section at the bookstore. Usually, you come to the bookstore on weekends but you've decided to meet a friend this week, so here you are.

Your eyes roam the bookshelf along with your hand in a straight line until you hit something. Someone. You step back, an apology already on your lips until you turn and see the man beside you and suddenly you are at a loss for words. You stare at him.

Normally, if you run into someone at the bookstore you would just turn away and apologize, which happened a lot since you were always lost searching for your book but it wasn't a rom-com movie where anyone you accidentally stumble upon turns out to be your soulmate - but, god, right now you wish it were.

Honestly, you have seen your fair share of good-looking men, but this guy was, you dare say it, gorgeous.

He had a defined, sharp jawline with dark brown eyes, and his hair was a mess of curls. He was wearing baggy clothes but it suited him just fine and a messenger bag slung on his shoulder. 'I'm sorry,' you hear him say and he gives an apologetic smile. O.K. If you thought he was good-looking a moment ago, his smile was absolutely beaming - and it wasn't even a real smile. 'You okay?' He asks, his fingers grazing your forearm for the slightest second, bringing you back to life. He is looking down at you, confused. Really? Could he not see what he was doing to you or did he not know how good-looking he was?

You nod, saying, 'I am fine. Sorry about that.' He waves his hand in front of his face, 'No worries,' he replies with a smile. He looks a bit older than you, thirteen years or some.

You are staring at him again. You can feel yourself getting red. So embarrassing.

'That's a nice book you've got there,' he says, pointing to the book in your hands that was now wrapped around your chest. The blush on your cheeks deepens, he doesn't notice.

"Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte" you trace your fingers over the cover of the book.

'Yeah,' you say, pushing the book closer to yourself, 'you too.' Alright, you do not know why you said that, but he was holding a book and it only felt right to return the compliment.

Or maybe you are just really bad when it comes to conversations with someone who's got you fawning.

He shows the book to you, "The Ennead" it reads. Suddenly, you are intrigued. Yes, you work for a textile company but History, especially Egyptian, has always been interesting to you. And before you know it, you are both somehow in a long, elaborated conversation about the Ennead, Egyptian history, and the pyramids.

He knew so much that it left you speechless. You could only admire him as he kept spitting engrossing Egyptian facts as if it were the weather report. He talked animatedly, with his hands moving and his eyes gleaming. His hands, wow, his perfect, sleek hands were totally distracting you from his stories.

He stopped abruptly when his phone rang. He was telling you something about Ammit, the sinister goddess of the Underworld but he had to stop and pick up the call.

He held the phone close to his chest, saying, 'Looks like I'll have to leave.' He looked like he was in a hurry but he glanced at you once more before walking out the place, as if he wanted to say more.

He disappeared soon as if he'd never even been here.

Your heart is beating fast and it feels almost as if, you have never had a conversation like this one before. Maybe it was the person more than the conversation itself.

You didn't even ask for his name, you wince at the realization. You should've totally asked for his name.

Maybe you'll see him again.

For some reason, you are sure you'll see him again.

•------🌙

You are a few feet away from the coffee shop's door when you notice your friend. She's sitting at the table with someone, you can't really see who, and is typing aggressively into her laptop.

Your friend is in the last year of her University, she's a year younger than you. You always knew that University was not your thing but you'd attended it anyway because your parents wanted you to and being exceedingly wealthy, they had proposed to pay your study loans for you.

So now you have a full-time job, a good paycheck, and an apartment of your own without any piles of loans above your head. While your friend, still in Uni was drowning in projects and assignments and you knew she needed to loosen up a bit, hence, the reason you two were meeting today.

You enter the shop with a smile, but it drops the moment you notice who your friend is with. You freeze a few feet away from the table. You couldn't be sure if it was him but the resemblance was there.

Your friend looks up from her laptop, noticing you. She waves at you, grinning, which makes, whoever it is, sitting in front of her turn to you.

You almost trip. He looks even better than the last time you'd seen him. He was still wearing baggy clothes, his hair tousled and curly but it looked purposely done. And he was wearing glasses, red colored glasses perched on the top of his nose. Adorable.

You always had a weak spot for nerds but he might just be the man of your dreams.

Your friend asks you to come over and have a seat and you do. You can tell that he remembers you. He's been staring at you ever since you walked in and you can't breathe. What's happening to you?

Your friend, however, is oblivious, she introduces you to the man, telling him your name and he introduces himself, 'Steven Grant,' he says, shaking your hand clumsily. You nod. His hand, oh god, the handshake sent tingles all over your skin.

'He was just helping me with a few assignments, thank you so much for this,' your friend adds and after telling her that it's no big deal Steven leaves the table to get his order.

You watch him go. Steven Grant. You had met him at the bookstore almost a week ago and yet, you couldn't stop thinking about him. It felt foolish but you'd never, in your life, daydreamed about a guy the way you'd daydreamed about Steven Grant.

'Stop drooling,' your friend says interrupting your rail of thoughts. A blush spreads on your cheeks. You aren't drooling... are you?

'How do you know him?' You ask her

Your friend grins, 'he's my history professor.'

Your jaw drops, 'he's a professor?' You repeat, placing your hands on your chest dramatically, 'he's like everything I've ever wanted.'

She chuckles, 'You should ask him out. He's exactly your type and I am sure he's single.'

Your eyes turn to Steven who's now getting his coffee, 'how's he still single?'

'Because he's the most awkward person you'll ever meet and the only friend he has is a goldfish named 'Gus', it is one-finned or something. He loves talking about it,' your friend tells

You smile to yourself but your heart's hammering against your chest and you know you'd never have the courage to ask him out.

'I could never,' you say, biting your lower lip. Before your friend can reply Steven comes back with a flask that the barista had filled for him.

Your friend smirks as she closes her laptop and leaves the table the next moment. You silently beg her to stay but it's too late.

Steven looks at you and you can't stop blushing. You are praying that your complexion doesn't give it away. 'Correct me if I'm wrong,' he speaks sweetly, 'but... have we met before?'

Your cheeks redden, 'yeah,' you say, 'Yes actually, at the bookstore... that day, I - I had no idea that you were, would be - what a coincidence, right?' You give yourself an imaginary facepalm. Someone must remind you how to form a coherent sentence again.

'You're at University too?' He asks

You shake your head, 'Oh no, not anymore.'

Steven smiles in reply and you two fall into an awkward silence. You want to say something - you know you should say something but he hasn't stopped smiling since you arrived and you can't think straight when he's looking at you with those deep, soft, brown eyes.

Maybe you should ask him something about his job - anything would be better than staring at him like an idiot.

You open your mouth to speak but Steven cuts you off, 'that day when we met,' he says, taking his glasses off, 'I wanted to ask you something, actually...' he pauses to take a good look at your face, you can swear you are as red as a tomato by now. 'I was wondering if - if you would want to - maybe - uh, have dinner with me sometime? I was just thinking if...' You don't hear the rest of the sentence. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he asking you out? Was Steven Grant, the man you had been reeling after - asking you out on a date? This felt unreal.

'I'm sorry,' his voice reaches your ear, interrupting your thoughts, 'I think I might be reading too much into it. I understand if you're not interested.'

Your eyes visibly widen at his words. It wasn't that at all.

'No.' You almost yell, 'I - I am interested. I want to, I mean. I would love to go on a date with you.' You are smiling hard and you can feel the butterflies rummaging in your stomach. 'If - if that's what you are implying.' You add.

This is bad.

Steven lets out a small laugh, his cheeks turning pink, 'Yes. Yes, th - that's what I meant.'

You grin, not because you want to but because you can't help it. He's so nice and so absolutely beautiful.

Steven fiddles with his sleeves nervously, saying, 'Well, there's this really nice restaurant down the street. They have all kinds of food options. I - I was thinking maybe we could, you know, check it out.'

You nod, still smiling. Still feeling the butterflies in your stomach. He looked ten times better when he smiled.

'Yeah,' you say, 'yeah, sounds great.'

'I'll see you tomorrow then? If - if that's okay with you. I get off work at 5'

'Tomorrow's good.'

'Yeah?' He's smiling with his eyes now, crinkles appearing around them and oh, you could just die.

Steven's expression softens as he starts to get up, 'I am terribly sorry, love,' he says, with a weak smile, 'I would really like to stay but I have to leave now - I have a meeting at work. I could, uh, text you the details, though?'

You tell him that it's alright and exchange phone numbers.

'See you tomorrow, then?' He asks, sliding his messenger bag down his shoulder, his curls toss as he fixes the strap and you fight the urge to push your fingers through them. You really wanted to.

'It's a date then,' you say, biting your lower lip. It was hard to contain your giddiness.

'I'll call you.' He says, passing you a little smile before finally walking out the shop.

Oh my god. It happened! You are going out on a date with Steven Grant. You are acting like a teenager getting asked out for the first time but you're too happy to care. You are happy - excited even - for a date, you haven't felt this like this in a long time.

Your friend finally comes back to the table, holding a sandwich in one hand and a coffee cup in another.

'You were ages.' You say, adding Steven's phone number into your contacts

'Was I?' Your friend replies, slurping her drink, 'well, the barista was super cute - not really my fault, besides, what were you chatting with Mr. Grant about?'

You smile. Your cheeks hurt from smiling now but you can't help it, 'I am going on a date.' You tell her, 'With your professor.'

Tagging: @wittyjasontodd (I didn't know if you'd wanted to be tagged since this is not DC related but here it is!), @fandxmslxt69 (bcs I was inspired by your math professor lol >.<)

Anyone who wants to be tagged, just lmk!

[lansplaining]

re: golden core reveal - wasn't JC actively attacking LWJ and (bleeding and semi-unconscious) WWX when WN arrived? I get that this fight was a misunderstanding and an overreaction from everyone involved, and JC didn't really want to kill or injure anyone, but if WN only arrived at the scene when he heard the sounds of fighting, I can totally see why he was so mad at JC lol, it probably looked like he was trying to kill WWX for some reason

YEAH okay so

(sorry this got long)

Jiang Cheng follows Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji into the temple and starts accusing them of fooling around, which I'd totally forgotten is actually the part that really upsets Wei Wuxian. And then he attacks first!

Wei Wuxian saw the change in Lan Wangji's expression and thought that Jiang Cheng's words had stung him. He was so angry that his entire body shook. He didn't even dare imagine what Lan Wangji thought of being insulted like that. His fury blazed brighter, blood rushed to his head, and he flung out a talisman.

The talisman was fast and merciless. It struck Jiang Cheng on his right shoulder and exploded with a thunderous bang, causing him to stagger. He hadn't expected Wei Wuxian to strike so suddenly, and his own spiritual powers had yet to fully recover. As a result, the blast caught him head-on and his shoulder began to bleed.

Disbelief flashed across his face, and Zidian shot from his finger, sizzling and flashing haphazardly as it lashed out (249, 7S trans.).

So then a fight breaks out between the three of them, Wei Wuxian's like wait this is terrible and nearly passes out. When that happens--

Jiang Cheng's expression changed too. He retracted his whip, then blinked, looking alert (249, 7S trans.).

[...]

Jiang Cheng was both shocked and suspicious-- shocked by the disturbing sight of Wei Wuxian bleeding so suddenly from his seven orifices, and suspicious that this was an act he was putting on to escape. After all, Wei Wuxian often used such tricks to prank others.

Seeing they were both about to leave, he barked, "Hold it right there!

Lan Wangji fumed, "Get lost!"

With his words came an abruptly raging Bichen. Immediately after, a flash of purple lightning hurtled forth as well. Both divine weapons struck each other, letting loose a long, ear-piercing yowl. The impact of this noise gave Wei Wuxian a splitting headache, and like a flickering candle flame that was finally extinguished, his eyes closed and his head drooped low.

Sensing the sudden weight on his shoulder, Lan Wangji promptly extracted himself from the melee to feel his breathing.

With Bichen's master no longer supplying it with power, Zidian immediately advanced towards them. Jiang Cheng, who didn't actually want to injure Lan Wangji, instantly pulled back his strike-- but it seemed it was still too late.

Just then, a figure leapt from nowhere and stood between them (250-1, 7S trans.).

So Wen Ning jumps in, Jiang Cheng asks how he dares to enter Lotus Pier, he's so angry he's laughing... and he still isn't actually attacking Wen Ning or anyone else. Wen Ning immediately offers him Suibian and jumps into the golden core reveal. Obviously, it's set up so we don't know how much of the preceding exchange he saw, but in actual fact we've gone from a fight that Wei Wuxian started to a second round that Lan Wangji started, and where Jiang Cheng never actually intended to hurt Lan Wangji and tried to pull back as soon as Lan Wangji abruptly stopped fighting.

You're totally right that by entering the fight once Wei Wuxian is passing out, it looks like Lan Wangji is trying to desperately defend Wei Wuxian from attack. But even then, the move that Wen Ning intercepts is Jiang Cheng trying to withdraw Zidian and back off! He decides that the only possible way to de-escalate this fight is by revealing Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's darkest secret before he even tries to, say, help hold off Jiang Cheng physically so that the other two can escape (or, you know, distract him with some other subject).

It just really felt like a sudden escalation to me reading it this time, even accepting that Wen Ning is leaping into a situation where a) everyone has already been misreading Jiang Cheng's intentions the whole time and b) he missed the beginning of the conflict so he doesn't really have context.

(And also the context is......... Wei Wuxian is mad because he incorrectly thinks Lan Wangji is offended by Jiang Cheng insinuating that they're hooking up lol)

[girlfromthecrypt]

i really love that your characters aren't like perfect and conventionally attractive if that makes sense? like basil having top surgery scars and just BEING trans and still being someone who's implied to be attractive, or small stuff like flo not being super toned idk it just makes me feel really happy that for once it's an IF whos potential romantic interests aren't "bland actual fucking supermodel", "bland actual fucking supermodel but with red hair" and "bland actual supermodel but 5'10"

sorry for rambling it's just like a game where I feel comfortable, that like in universe I wouldn't be given shit about what I look like y'know

also I liked Basil's joke about the MC (I assume this is only when picking the short option) being the same size as some of the kids. it made it feel like friendly and real

THANK YOU I'm serious this particular thing means so much to me.

I very much intend for my characters to be attractive, but each in their own way, not like the "bland supermodels" you described. Bc that's so real. In most romance fiction (not just IFs), I find that sooo many characters are just boringly beautiful. I have a hard time falling in love with the characters bc of that.

Also, I want each of my ROs to look according to what they do. Their appearance should suit their personalities and needs. Besides, "flaws" totally add to a character's charm imo.

-RO ramble incoming!-

To me at least, the SHC ROs are very attractive, but like in a normal, approachable way. I put a lot of thought into their specific kinds of attractiveness.

Basil is very attractive!! In a fox-like, impish kind of way, with his fairycore vibes and whatnot. I also love that you said "supermodel but 5'10" like 5'10 is short or sth lol. But I see what you mean! Basil, of course, is like 5'8 but I like to think anyone who meets Basil would be too distracted by the entire rest of him to even consider height. Besides, to me (I be gremlin) that's still kinda tall.

I figure being trans doesn't really factor into his attractiveness at all. From your ask, it sounds like trans people get described as ugly in a lot of fiction?? I wouldn't know, but if that's what you were saying, then that's a sorry state of affairs.

Flo is also attractive, in more of a "conventional masculinity"-type of way. But he's not well-dressed because he hates the feel of most fabrics, so he's only ever in his sweater. And of course he's not super defined! He has NO interest in being super handsome (aside from keeping his hair and beard shiny). He wants to be a tank. And he is a tank.

And if you consider how much food he consumes in the fairground-sequence alone (cheesecake, around five deep fried candy bars).... Yeah he loves to eat. Hence, he's got a bit of padding lol. There's no technical reason for the large nose ofc, I just thought that was cute.

Reem is the most "supermodel"-esque out of the ROs, I think. Although that's subjective. She's actually toned, but like... also very noticeably muscular. In that defined kinda way I might have intentionally avoided with Flo! But like, it makes sense that Reem would build abs and stuff for herself. She values her stage presence. She does want her performances and looks and outfits to be memorable, and HERSELF to be memorable. She's just raw, brutal magnetism. (Also I might have gotten inspired by BG3 Karlach when I first came up with Reem.)

Anita is pretty, too, but in like... a "cute" way. A Velma kind of way. With her, like, really thick glasses. Anita's appealing in a wispy, ethereal kind of sense. Or perhaps even slightly girl-next-door-ish, with an added academia vibe. Also, she's slim, not model-slim but "I forgot to eat/I'm stressed and have no appetite"-slim. This is really important to me. Will come up in the story, too. With that also comes her bad posture. She slouches a lot.

So yeah the ROs' attractiveness is rly something I put thought into, and I'm super happy you noticed. Makes my entire day whenever I get an ask like that. Thank you!

Also yeah hehe I was proud of that joke

[whxre-bxby]

The recoms x reader with competitions sounds hilarious

I can totally imagine them having weird ass competitions Lol

Can't wait for that one

Yeah, this has been in my inbox for ages so glad to finally post it

"Pecking Order"

f. Y/N Recom x Recom Quaritch /Lyle /Prager /Mansk /Brown /Lopez /Ja /Walker /Zdinarsk

Masterlist

Summary: Being a recom soldier is difficult. Especially when dealing with the new instincts and needs the body requires. To keep his team sane, Quaritch comes up with a solution in which Y/N is shared with everyone.

Warnings: indication of smut, little bit of fluff, depressing ending, outrageously minimal wordcount (my apologies)

Word Count: 1590

(I'm sorry about how short this is, but I'm really struggling to write at the moment because I have so much going on)

(Once again I am pretending that Warren and Zhang don’t exist, I am sorry to those who like them but I really don’t.)

Being on Pandora is weird. It’s a whole new planet. But what’s even weirder is being on a foreign planet in a foreign body. Another human’s body wouldn’t have been so bad, but no, you’re blue now. You and your squad along with your Colonel have all permanently become Avatars. It takes a lot of time to get used to the changes. It seems like you discover something new about yourselves every day. Luckily it’s been almost two months since you woke up from criyo. 

It seems as though the foreign environment and new feelings have almost strengthened the connection of the team. You all got along when you had to before but now you feel like they are all close friends to you. 

One evening at dinner, Lyle had brought up how most soldiers used to have fuck-buddies to get through life on Pandora. Most of the team did back then too. Now, it seemed as though no one had even thought about it. You and the others didn’t exactly know how everything worked so the subject was ignored and brushed off. But it was definitely not forgotten.

It had quite literally been years since any one of you had experienced any form of sexual pleasure. That was suppressed in the beginning but the Avatar’s body language was more visible than a human's and it was more difficult to control and suppress emotions. 

At one point in time, all recoms including you were constantly tense and distracted. No one was able to fully focus during training anymore and Quaritch noticed this. He himself had the same problem and he knew he couldn’t send his squad out into the forest like this. You would die on the first day out. The Colonel would rather solve the problem in any way possible than explain what is happening to the General. The recoms are meant to be reliable and professional. What is happening to all of you is getting in the way of both those things. 

The Colonel forced everyone to attend his ‘emergency meeting’ even though you all had the rest of the day off. The atmosphere was thick and you found it hard to breathe even though the room was ventilated. 

Quaritch had made you all sit down to listen to him but your attention was barely on his words. Instead, you were subconsciously studying Mansk. He was calmly fiddling with his fingers but you noticed how strained his arms were and how far back he had his ears pinned. Nobody was relaxed. 

You also realised earlier today that you basically lost control of your tail. It’s just doing its own thing at this point and there is nothing you can do about it. 

The Colonel started explaining his recent observations of our behaviour and you immediately thought you were all being scolded. But you were wrong. 

“The only option I see te’ help us with our probem,” Quaritch says, inhaling deeply as if he were not sure how we would react. “Is to fuck it out.” 

Lyle snorts, thinking his superior is joking but Quaritch is dead serious. 

“Suggest otherwise, Corporal Wainfleet.” The Colonel says, sternly glaring at Lyle. I stare at both of them with wide eyes. No way is he suggesting this. 

There was some kind of argumentative discussion between the two but you have tuned out, blankly staring past Quaritch and at the wall behind him. This room had no windows, so no one could see or come in here because it was a recom only area. 

“Y/N.” Quaritch’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. You glance up at him while Mansk shifts his gaze to you. 

“You’re with me.” he orders, watching your surprised yet innocent face process the information. 

“No fuckin’ way.” Mansk interrupts. You stare at him now, completely surprised by his words. Mansk never objects or argues with people. He’s the best soldier when it comes to following orders. This is out of character for him. 

Quaritch doesn’t seem pleased by his words but once again to your surprise, he doesn’t put Mansk in his place. Since this isn’t a professional environment anymore, it seems as though the ranks between the soldiers don’t play such a big role. 

A few other recoms back Mansk up, not liking that the Colonel wants you to himself which still baffles you. 

But it turns out, they all seemed to have taken a liking to you. Most soldiers were ignorant and self-centred. You weren’t. You seemed almost naturally submissive to the others, especially as an Avatar. Something about you, perhaps your scent of strong pheromones, drew them to you.

So that evening, while you were being eyed hungrily by every single one of your teammates, they made a fair plan. In their free time, they would hold weekly competitions to figure out the order of who gets the most time with you. You were included and nothing was forced on you.

Since life in the RDA was really dull and colourless, these planned activities and competitions amused everyone. 

To keep it fair, it wouldn’t always be the same task to win, it would be changed so that everyone gets a chance. Otherwise, it would always be the same people with you. 

The first and most obvious challenge was a physical strength competition. This one lasted a long time and it went all the way from who could hold themselves in a plank position the longest to wrestling in the gym. In the third week, things took a drastic turn when Lyle decided to time himself to see how fast he could make you cum. Any technique was allowed and on the same day, everyone had their turn which had you not only fucked out but completely dumb and tired for the rest of the day. 

Z-Dog won that one and right behind her was Walker. Lopez was next and all three of them took great pride in it. It seems as though oral sex was the way to go.

Quaritch was always near the top and most often the first on the leaderboard in the physical challenges. Which meant you spent a lot of time in his room, which you honestly didn’t mind. While he was a brutal and cold-hearted man on the outside, he took care of you behind closed doors. Miles picked you up and walked you to his room when it suited the two of you. There, he took his time with you. Nothing was ever rushed because he wanted you to enjoy it as much as he did. 

Let’s just say, you always slept well after having sex with him and he took care of you in his bed, letting you sleep in it. You always left his room feeling satisfied in the morning. Lyle, Mansk and Prager were also usually quite at the top so when you and Quaritch would finish, they would get a day of the week each to spend with you. Sometimes, you had a few of them at once. 

Normally, you would feel bad about yourself for sleeping around so much but they made you feel like you are all that matters to them, so you rarely worried about that. You didn’t feel used, you felt loved. Something you had been deprived of since you left Earth years ago. 

Once everyone had a turn and the feral instincts calmed down, the competitions continued but they became more funny than serious. At this point, you were all just doing it for shits and giggles because there really wasn’t anything else to do. Except for finding Sully but that mission wasn’t ready yet. 

So the subjects of the competitions started to change along with everyone’s behaviour. The lust has been brought under control so you weren’t as tired anymore and only occasionally had sex with the recoms that needed it. 

A cooking competition was held which turned into a completely messy disaster. Mansk won it by far but at what cost? The oven had exploded because Ja refused to take the food out, claiming it wasn’t done yet. Lopez put metal in the microwave which really damaged the machine and you can’t quite remember how it happened but Z-Dog and Walker had accidentally set a curtain on fire. Instead of trying to put out the flames, they got angry because “What’s a fuckin’ curtain doin’ in the kitchen anyway?!”.

Another one was who could breathe oxygen for the longest because we were now adapted to Pandora’s air. Prager won. He said he used to dive regularly back on Earth so he was able to hold his breath for a long time. 

Brown and Walker almost lost consciousness. 

It kept going on and on like this because it was all the fun you had. Even when the mission started, the challenges were who could tame their Ikran the fastest, who could guess the Na’vi words correctly and who could properly land a fall from the Ikran. You started taking part in the competitions just for your own fun. It really had brought everyone together but eventually, all good things must come to an end. 

When you started encountering Sully, you began losing soldiers and once some teammates were gone, no one was feeling good enough to even suggest anything fun. From that point of, you all just wanted to finish your mission and end this.

Enjoy the bunnies instead of the abrupt ending :)

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @jatwow @numarusworld @number1gal @ikranwings

[desired-deity]

Okay, last ask of my kengi brainrot (or is it?)

Perhaps, mayhaps, maybe Mr Sunkenji x Streamer!reader

I was thinking the reader is a new Streamer whose known kenji for a while and so when they schedule their first stream ever ! Kenjis there hype man and joins their stream with his viewers just to help get them comfortable with streaming and it's just chaotic fluffy stuff on stream or something like that (this is the best way I could put my thoughts into words okay!)

The relationship reader has with Kenji could either be Platonic or Romantic I'm not picky

ANYWAYS, I'm super excited to see more of your work, especially if it got something to do with Kenji this mans don't get enough love on tumblr!

Can't wait to see your next fic !!!

Love from your dearest Kenji brainrot anon❤️❤️❤️

Yo! So sorry it took me so long to see this lol, I’ve been out because I’ve been traveling a lot lately, so sorry! But yes! I’ll gladly take this opportunity to write!!! Thank you for the request~

KENJI X STREAMER! Y/N

(I don’t think I saw anything specifically about gender so, I’m gonna do it as a GN reader!)

‘I’m so excited!’ Y/n thought, squealing at the thought of getting to do their first ever stream with their boyfriend, Kenji! Y/n just started being an independent vtuber and why not start off their first ever stream with their boyfriend? I mean- who wouldn’t t take the offer!

Sunkenji: Ready when you are, take your time if you need it ❤️

Y/n read the DM Kenji just sent them, smiling while responding,

Y/n: I’m ready!!! So excited to start the stream!!!

And so let the chaos commence

You and Kenji just had to play Project: Playtime. Great, lovely isn’t that…?

“Y/N! Y/N! FUCK FUCK FUCK! MOVEEEE”

“STOP RUSHING ME YOU MONKEY”

“FUCK-”

“Seriously. I told you to distract her!”

“WELL I’M SORRY THAT SHE WAS CHASING ME WITH HER LONG ASS LEGS AROUND THE MAP!”

And this went on for the rest of the night, screaming, yelling, and reading chat all night!

“Well, thank you all for coming to the stream today, thank you so much Kenji for joining me on my first ever twitch stream too! Bye guys!”

~A few weeks later~

Chat:

Tell Kenji we say hi!

Nice to see that you and Kenji are getting along!

Love that you guys are streaming together so often!

Totally ship you and Kenji, Y/n!

…

And that’s when you wanted to tell chat that you and Kenji had been together before you even started streaming until he also got the same chat in his stream,

“Oh yeah, we met before they even started streaming and got together, I’m lucky to have ‘em”

You started to blush and had your jaw drop, d-did he really just say that? Well- I mean- at least you didn’t have to spill it to chat!

“Love you too, Kenji ❤️”