#fuckshit mid90s

[lowkeyrobin]

OMG I've had this idea for a while but fuckshit x shy turned confident reader where they're in the same class but fuckshit doesn't really notices reader until reader starts dressing for themself and does things they want to do instead of letting people walk all over them and fuckshit starts developing a crush and starts seeing reader everywhere !!! Thank you love you robinnnn <33

-♠️

STOP I LOVE THIS WTF ♣️ dw I saw the other thing ik its u bae ; love you too freakazoid ; thanks for requesting pookieeee hope u enjoy

FUCKSHIT ; confidence

summary ; fuckshit develops a crush on the new you

warnings ; language, censored racial slur, weed

disclaimers ; fuckshits real name is gonna be olan (like the actor himself) as much as I don't like it that much it's the best bet + I don't wanna make up some random name for him 😭🙏 it's just bc ain't no teacher is gonna call him fuckshit and stuff ; also I do censor the n word one bc I'm not black, two it's how ray and fuckshit talk, it's not overused or anything, I'm just not trying to whitewash their speech and mannerisms and them reclaiming that word is kinda important for them because they're black skaters in the 90s so 🙏

word count ; 1k

masterlist

You used to cover yourself up a lot, even during summer. Sweaters and long sweatpants and jeans paired with hightop Converse were your usual outfits, even in the blazing LA heat.

You skated here and there, not at any parks or popular spots, just around. You shared a class with Olan, or Fuckshit as he likes to be called, at school. You had 12th period history with him, where he sat next to you.

You were very shy and reserved, you never talked to anyone unless spoken to and spent your time in the back of the class just getting through your work. Every so often, Fuckshit would try to talk to you to little or no avail. He never really noticed you much in the hallway or any other class either, so he didn't have any other way to talk to or see you through the day.

He didn't know much about you, which is why he also didn't know much about how you'd let people walk over, use, and bully you. He'd defended you in class once, but that was the extent of it. He wasn't a bully whatsoever, a fuckboy, yeah, but he wouldn't make fun of you for some dumb reason like the way you dress or the way you bite your nails.

But, now, he couldn't help but stare at you.

He could finally see your gorgeous eyes again, your smile proving that you were much happier this way. You seemed so excited and confident. He even noticed you in the hallway talking to someone with a smile on your face.

He had to say something.

"Oh, shit, like your shirt. Gravediggaz is fire." He smiles.

You return said smile. "Oh, thanks! You listen?"

"Hell yeah, n****"

He sees the kids who usually made fun of you snicker and whisper a few feet away, but pays them no mind. You follow his gaze and get a quick look before rolling your eyes and turning back to him.

"Fucking annoying" You say, placing a finger gun to your temple. "You skate, right?"

"Yeah, why? You trynna hang?"

"Maybe" You chuckle and shrug, "Going to the courthouse, just wanna show off some tricks at that party. Wanna come with me? You'd make it way less embarrassing"

"Yeah, of course" He grins, "Mind if I bring my boys along?"

"Oh, please. The more the merrier" You nod, "I'll be under the left tree at six, yeah?"

"Yeah"

Safe to say he couldn't wait to talk to you later considering he wouldn't shut the fuck up about it. Ray had been making fun of him all afternoon while Fourthgrade filmed it all, Ruben's laughter prominent in the background.

He was basically bouncing off the walls as the minutes ticked away, time coming closer and closer as to when he'd see you again.

"Put your dick away"

"Shut the fuck up! I'm just excited"

"Yeah, excited alright"

"I swear to God-"

He basically sprinted out the door when it hit 5:50, leaving the others in the dirt as he skated down the sidewalk as fast as humanly possible.

He saw you waving for him as he entered, and he quickly walked towards you with a smile and a blunt in his hand.

"Hey" He smiles, offering you said blunt.

You take it and blow a puff out of it, "Hey, glad you made it. Where's your friends?"

He looks over to the side, waving to a group of boys who were clearly trying to look for him. The three nod and talk toward you two, talking about something you couldn't hear.

You wave to them as they approach and sit with you, joining the conversation about everything skate and music related. As the sun sets, the area illuminated by white and colorful neon lights, you get up onto the building, top of the stairs, to show off some tricks. You see Fuckshit and his friends watching you, along with many other strangers who were watching other skaters show their shit off.

You grind down the metal railing and hop off with a kickflip. You glance over at the curly haired blonde, who's shouting some inaudible compliments. You see his one friend, tall and blonde, filming with a Camcorder. You didn't mind, you thought it was pretty sick.

The youngest out of them, maybe fourteen or so, hands a blunt to the dark-skinned boy with the locs, both of their eyes on you, like they're scanning your high-school coolness level or something.

"Ayeee, that was sick as fuck!"

"Olan, is there something you need to share with the class?"

Fuckshit's eyes slightly widen as he slowly looks up at the teacher who'd caught you two whispering in the back of class.

"Nah, I'm good"

The teacher turns back to the board as you two quietly smile and snicker.

He can't help but get lost in your happiness, feeling comfort in your sneaky smile. He can't help but adore everything about you, from your humor to your skating, your music interests, it was like you were made for him.

The bell rings, nearly popping your eardrums once more as it dismisses you for the day. You walk side by side through the halls, taking the longest way through the school to go toward the front doors to leave.

"I just don't understand being a poser like that, it ain't getting you any pussy" He laughs, agreeing with your long tangent about how being new at skating didn't mean you were a poser, and that being a poser is lame. "Like what you doing when someone asks if you can do a trick or show them? You just paid for a deck to look cool?"

"Exactly! They act like we can't tell who's a poser and who's not!"

You reach the entrance, having to go your separate ways home.

"See you tomorrow, dude" You smile with a light chuckle, waving him a little goodbye as you step on your board to skate away.

"See ya! I'll bring those cookies tomorrow too!" He smiles and waves back at you.

Ray and Fourthgrade approach, confused and amused looks on their faces.

"Cookies? When did you become a baker, n***?" Ray asks.

"Shut the fuck up, I owe them"

"For what?" He asks again as the trio walk down the sidewalk, straying away from the street til they got off school property.

"Inviting us to that thing on Friday, and homework answers"

"Ugh, here he goes again"

[dolly-gutzz]

thinking of late nights w fuckshit ‼️‼️

You’re in your room, the only light is the fairy lights you stole from your sister and the moonlight. Fuckshit is in between your thighs lazily talking away about his day at school and skating. Your fingers run through his honey blond curls and scratch his scalp, something he’s loved for years. Your cocateu twins vinyl plays in the background. You try to figure out the words but what’s the use, it’s the cocateu twins, you could never figure out what their trying to say. Fuckshit looks up at you.

“Youre so beautiful mamas��� he says, honey dripping off of his tongue.

“You’re high baby” you say back with a smile. “I’m more truthful when I’m high” he says rubbing circles in your thighs. You analyze his face. His hazel green eyes have a red tint, thanks to the weed. his skin was sun kissed and freckled to perfection. His hair was perfectly frizzy out by your hangs and this skating only a couple hours prior. This night was perfect. Fuckshit slowly raised and flipped over, still between your plush thighs but now facing you. He presses a feathery kiss to your lips. You smile. Soon enough you're making out harmlessly, and with every kiss your love for the boy kissing you grows. Nights with the golden haired skater boy were the best.

[kya-is-kool]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡 #𝟮: 𝗙𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗧 𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦

•i feel like even though he's the driver of the group, when it's just you two you normally drive. he's a passenger princess n shi 💀

•calls you ma, mamas, baby, mama, all them fboy pet names

•he's honestly so easy going. like he always has the "whatever you say beautiful" type attitude. not really one to disagree with you

•if you already know how to skate, he finds it so hot. like if you get angry because you can't do a trick right, it's hot to him. or you being able to do some super crazy trick, it's hot to him

•on the other hand, if you can't skate he teaches you. simple things though, like how to shove it, riding off small ramps nothing too crazy

•when it comes to intimacy, he definitely knows what he's doing. he's experienced, but like i said, he's easygoing for you. so if you like to take the lead, he's cool with that. if you'd rather him take the lead, he's cool with that too.

•he's literally the king of pda. he ain't scared, he'll hold your hand, hold your waist, kiss you (fully make out in public too). if you're not comfortable with pda, he'll try so hard to keep his hands off you, but inevitably will be touching you in some sort of way because he's fuckshit, he has to

•random but he really likes when you touch his thighs, hands, or neck in any way

•he's one interesting guy

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[cinedits]

mid90s (2018) icons.

like or reblog.

[ares--athena]

Fuckshit x black fem! Reader

Summary: headcanons for dating fuckshit from mid90s

A/n : if nobody else will write for this movie ig i will

A late birthday self indulgence my birthday was a month ago 02/18 so enjoy!

You would meet because his parents want him to get higher grades and no else would do it

Fuckshit is not the kind of guy your parents want you to be with

The type to teach you to do tricks on his skateboard

You would definitely have to get along with the rest of his crew but Ray especially for this relationship to work

If you do know how to skateboard that would be something you both bond over

Definitely the type to help you with your hair and all styles too, box braids, locs, afro, or just curl depending on your hair type

Would definitely get along with older cousins and siblings especially if they're chill like he is

If you want your younger siblings and cousins or family members in general to have a good role model; it's not him.

Sometimes he has rough patches where you have to help him with his work, when he just only wants skate.

If you cook or bake he's your number one fan

anything you make pasta, burgers, cookies, cakes, literally anything this man will eat it and 9/10 will enjoy it.

[treflip7]

mid90s art + little egbert

[fuckshitslover]

shook up - fuckshit

you woke up, alarmed as you heard the ringing of your clock, about to lean forward, you put your hand on the linen, expecting to feel the soft quilt. instead, you felt something out of the ordinary. soft, hard flesh of someone's arm.

you quickly turned your head, to see an all too familiar face laying next to you, fuckshit. (or andre , as his family calls him). you two were best friends, so seeing him in your bed wasnt too unusual.

but you were naked.

and so was he.

that was what was out of the ordinary. you were confused, and apparently, he was too. you saw him start stirring in his sleep and out of habit, pulled up the quilt over your bare chest, although you didnt feel that there was really a point in that. he sputters something and then rubs his eyes, opening them to a very confused face, his best friend, you.

he wasn't nearly as shocked as you were, until he realised he had no clothes on, and neither did you. he was taken aback, trying to form a sentence but the confusion added to his regular amount of grammar skills gave him no luck.

you felt a pounding headache, signifying that you two had been drinking that night.

his thoughts, obviously moving slower that yours caused him to blurt out "do you think we fucked?" straight to the point i guess.

"looks like it"

"fuck... shiiiiiit. thats something new".

he was still obviously too fucked out to realise what this meant, it had pretty much put a ripple in the time space continuum! even if he didn't yet, you knew that you guys could never be the same again, even if you tried you would always have this moment playing in the back of your mind. suddenly, you heard rapid knocking on your door and fuckshit turned around as he knew you were going to get up.

you reached into your wardrobe and pulled out a robe and ran to the door. you heard fuckshit scrambling to get his clothes (that were sprawled out on the floor) and you opened the door.

you were met with a camera clad fourthgrade, ray next to him with a thirteen year old behind him.

i wonder where ruben is?

they invited themselves into your home as the kid stayed with ray in the living room, fourthgrade ran to you room, appearing to be filming for this weird school project he was doing.

he opened the door with a swift 'aha' and ran over to what sounded like fuckshit cursing him out.

might make a part 2, might not. tell me if you want one.

also i have a hc that fuckshit's name is actually andre fischer.

[douceurrrr]

I love your writing!!! Wondering if you could do a fuckshit fic/blurb. Maybe braiding his hair or him helping on wash day? 🤔 Hope you enjoy spooky season <3

Yesss, sorry i missed this!

-

You sighed as she watches the curly-headed boy act a fool on his skateboard, doing flips and tricks, making his messy hair bounce around. You could tell he was getting tired since it was hot outside and his baggy tee was getting soaked with sweat. You watch as the boy stops flipping around and makes his way up you. Each step he took made your nose winch up by his sweaty smell. “what chu lookin like that for, ma?” fuckshit says, taking in your facial expressions.

you rolled you eyes before speaking. “um, your smell like shit, fuckshit.” you smirked, obviously teasing him. he just kissed his teeth. “you don’t be saying all that when I’m sweating after I get done blowing dat back out.” he mumbled underneath his breath.

“ what chu say boy?” you spat, looking over at fuckshit, who was smiling. you shook it off and made you way to your bedroom but was stopped by the hand that belonged to you boyfriend. “you ain’t gon braid my hair, ma?” damn, you forgot you was going to braid his. It’s not that you didn’t want to braid his hair, it just takes a lot of time, but anything for your boo. “oh shit, yeah I will just let me grab my stuff.” you replied, giving fuckshit the green light to go find somewhere to sit. Fuckshit never admits it but he loves when you do his hair, you got that special touch.

You grab everything you need from ties to gels, and walked back into the living room to see fuckshit sitting on the floor where you usually do his hair. You sat all of the products on the table and sat behind fuckshit, with him between your legs. “ou boy, you need to take a shower after this.” you exclaimed, waving your hand in front of your face.

Fuckshit kissed his teeth once again. “girl, you trippin. it ain’t that bad.” he says shaking his head. You ignored him and proceeded to do his hair. You did everything you usually do, spray his hair, part it, gel it, then braid it. Once you were done you hand fuckshit a mirror. “got me looking good, thanks, ma.” he says, turning around and leaned in but you stopped him. “shower first, then we can getting to the good part.” you smiled.

fuckshit scoffed then got up to go to the bathroom, annoyed but loved as always.

[xelmokidx]

Nicknames

Mid90’s x gn or fem!reader / slight Fuckshit x gn!reader

Reader wanted a nickname, so the boys tried to come up with one. It sucked + readers' first time meeting the boys. 

Warnings!!: two mentions of fem pronouns sorta. Just fluff:D

**************************************************

Spike Psyche. That's my nickname. Out of all the things my friends could have nick-named me. Spike Psyche. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, appalled. Fuckshit nods, swigging back his Coke. 

“Yup.” he replies as Sunburn (aka stevie) giggles at the name.“Why?” I exclaim in disbelief. 

Ray chuckles at the nickname before muttering

 “Thats fucked up” Fuckshit opens his stupid mouth again. “Because all you talk about Is chopping off our heads and putting them on spikes, and how you want to kill yourself after every minor inconvenience.” I gasp, putting my hand over my chest dramatically. “I do not!”

Ruben shakes his head. “Yes, you do.”

FourthGrade chuckles behind his camera and I glare at him. He sinks down into the couch. “I do not talk about killing myself that much guys, if anything Ruben does more than me!” Ruben whips his head around to look at me. “Man, fuck you” He starts “I do not talk about that depressed shit.” I shake my head. “Y’all are trippin’” I look around the shop and see some customers listening in on our conversation. “I will not let yall call me that dumbass name, I like Y/N so much better”

Fourth grade finally chimes in. “But last week you said you hated your basic name and you wanted a nickname.” Bless his innocent soul. “Well I take it back, i am not answering to ‘Spike Psyche’” I sink into the couch with a pout. “Well fine ma, we’ll find you a “good nickname” Fuckshit reasons. I nod. We sit in silence as Ray gets up to help the customer. I look around the shop. 

New posters of artists I like are on the walls. Fuckshit insisted on making the space mine as well as theirs. All I heard was ‘we need new decorations and you have good taste in music’ I didn't really mind though. I've always wanted to add my own little spice into the skate shop ever since I first stepped foot in it. I think back a couple years. 

I was 13. I wanted a new board for my birthday. So, my dad took me to the nearest shop. Four boys sat on a couch near a wall, watching MTV on their small TV. The tall one noticed us first. He nudged the golden haired boy to his left, who then looked up at me. “Oh shit” he muttered under his breath. My dad frowned. I guess he caught that. “Hey, welcome to Motorz, how can I help y'all today?” he asked, clearly trying to impress my dad (on account of my dads business attire). 

My dad spoke for me while I hid behind him in fear. I was never good with new people. Especially ones I found cool. 

As my dad pressed questions like ‘How old even are you?’ and ‘fuckshits your name?’ I only found the kid cooler. How did you even wind up with a name like Fuckshit? 

Soon enough, my own personal skateboard was in my hands, and my dad was dragging me out of the shop despite my wanting to stay. As I looked behind me to the boys, and the supposed fuckshit was waving to me out the door. With my other free hand I waved back. He smiled a soft smile, and then walked back into the shop yelling “that chick was hot!” I smiled to myself the whole way home. I went back to the shop after school one day to see fuckshit again, and just stayed there for three years. My dad warmed up to fuckshit eventually, but still has some grudges against him. 

And I'm still in love with the stupid kid, even though he gets on my nerves almost every day.

 I look at fuckshit now. His hair is longer, yet less taken care of and frizzy. He has more scars from skateboarding. And his eyes look even more green against his tan olive skin. Suddenly, he speaks. “I got it!” I roll my eyes and mutter “what is it?” He smirks and walks over to me slightly slotting his legs between mine. “Your new nickname is Stalker, because you're always staring at me” The boys erupt in laughter. I gasp “fuck you” 

“You wish ma,” 

[lowkeyrobin]

hiiii, I love ur writing and I was wondering if you could do fuckshit x reader hcs on a movie night with him? Maybe some making out idk, make it yours!!!! Thanks pooks 🫶🏽🫶🏽

yeah sure!! ; thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!! ; and thank you!! that means so much to me bro tyty 🫶

FUCKSHIT ; movie night

summary ; movie night hcs with fuckshit!

warnings ; language, making out

word count ; 272

masterlist

he hates any and all romancey movies so you literally cannot watch them together. like titanic, she's all that, clueless etc

he needs some sort of action

so you mostly watch movies like the lost boys, fight club, and chucky

the lowest he'll go is dazed and confused (which he actually really likes), the sandlot, and the breakfast club

he usually likes curling up with you and some snacks

yes you heard me, he actually shows physical affection toward you

alone, the tough guy act is gone

or at least it's gone when you aren't around strangers and aquiatences

around the others, he's normal as well, but he needs to be the biggest hater around posers for some reason idk

he likes showing you off to people he knows and stuff tho

but about halfway through the movie, especially rewatches, he gets a little... distracted so to speak

lots of weird hand touches and squirming and resting his arm around your shoulder

he gives up on you taking the hint and just climbs in your lap to make out with you

you never fight him off cause you like annoying him to the point where he's given up and climbs on your lap instead of the other way around

lots of moving around for no reason

sometimes you end up laying down on the couch and sometimes you fall off of said couch and continue to make out

he lovessss when you tangle your hands in his curls bro

seductive whistle 😍😍😍

when some batshit crazy thing happens/he hears, he'll immediately look at the TV to see what's happening

"fuckshit-"

"hold on"

[deathmetalangel]

MID90S MASTERLIST

RAY

- younger sister headcanons

FUCKSHIT

- fuck, shit md!

FOURTH GRADE

- in chains, entombed

- fuck it, i love you

STEVIE

coming soon

RUBEN

coming soon

[dolly-gutzz]

Mid90’s x gn or fem!reader / slight Fuckshit x gn!reader

Reader wanted a nickname, so the boys tried to come up with one. It sucked + readers' first time meeting the boys. 

Warnings!!: two mentions of fem pronouns sorta. Just fluff:D

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

Spike Psyche. That's my nickname. Out of all the things my friends could have nick-named me. Spike Psyche. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, appalled. Fuckshit nods, swigging back his Coke. 

“Yup.” he replies as Sunburn (aka stevie) giggles at the name.“Why?” I exclaim in disbelief. 

Ray chuckles at the nickname before muttering

 “Thats fucked up” Fuckshit opens his stupid mouth again. “Because all you talk about Is chopping off our heads and putting them on spikes, and how you want to kill yourself after every minor inconvenience.” I gasp, putting my hand over my chest dramatically. “I do not!”

Ruben shakes his head. “Yes, you do.”

FourthGrade chuckles behind his camera and I glare at him. He sinks down into the couch. “I do not talk about killing myself that much guys, if anything Ruben does more than me!” Ruben whips his head around to look at me. “Man, fuck you” He starts “I do not talk about that depressed shit.” I shake my head. “Y’all are trippin’” I look around the shop and see some customers listening in on our conversation. “I will not let yall call me that dumbass name, I like Y/N so much better”

Fourth grade finally chimes in. “But last week you said you hated your basic name and you wanted a nickname.” Bless his innocent soul. “Well I take it back, i am not answering to ‘Spike Psyche’” I sink into the couch with a pout. “Well fine ma, we’ll find you a “good nickname” Fuckshit reasons. I nod. We sit in silence as Ray gets up to help the customer. I look around the shop. 

New posters of artists I like are on the walls. Fuckshit insisted on making the space mine as well as theirs. All I heard was ‘we need new decorations and you have good taste in music’ I didn't really mind though. I've always wanted to add my own little spice into the skate shop ever since I first stepped foot in it. I think back a couple years. 

I was 13. I wanted a new board for my birthday. So, my dad took me to the nearest shop. Four boys sat on a couch near a wall, watching MTV on their small TV. The tall one noticed us first. He nudged the golden haired boy to his left, who then looked up at me. “Oh shit” he muttered under his breath. My dad frowned. I guess he caught that. “Hey, welcome to Motorz, how can I help y'all today?” he asked, clearly trying to impress my dad (on account of my dads business attire). 

My dad spoke for me while I hid behind him in fear. I was never good with new people. Especially ones I found cool. 

As my dad pressed questions like ‘How old even are you?’ and ‘fuckshits your name?’ I only found the kid cooler. How did you even wind up with a name like Fuckshit? 

Soon enough, my own personal skateboard was in my hands, and my dad was dragging me out of the shop despite my wanting to stay. As I looked behind me to the boys, and the supposed fuckshit was waving to me out the door. With my other free hand I waved back. He smiled a soft smile, and then walked back into the shop yelling “that chick was hot!” I smiled to myself the whole way home. I went back to the shop after school one day to see fuckshit again, and just stayed there for three years. My dad warmed up to fuckshit eventually, but still has some grudges against him. 

And I'm still in love with the stupid kid, even though he gets on my nerves almost every day.

 I look at fuckshit now. His hair is longer, yet less taken care of and frizzy. He has more scars from skateboarding. And his eyes look even more green against his tan olive skin. Suddenly, he speaks. “I got it!” I roll my eyes and mutter “what is it?” He smirks and walks over to me slightly slotting his legs between mine. “Your new nickname is Stalker, because you're always staring at me” The boys erupt in laughter. I gasp “fuck you” 

“You wish ma,” 

[kya-is-kool]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 !: okay so i'll say it again just to prevent confusion, i have a hc that fuckshits real name is aaron, so reader might be calling him that

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: fuckshit sneaks through your window after getting in a fight seeking your comfort, and for you to patch him up because god knows he couldn't do it himself

you find your eyes growing heavy as they desperately try to chase each word on the page of your book. you're so close to finishing it, but can't seem to find it in yourself. "i'd better go to sleep," you say, to no one in particular. you turn off your lamp, letting the moonlight spill into your room as the only source of illumination. suddenly, there's a tap at your window. then, there's another tap followed by another and another and...you finally get out of your bed, determined to put an end to the tapping noise.

"what the hell?" you utter. once you reach your window, you look down to find fuckshit, pebbles in hand. he looks up at you, and gives a half smile. your brows furrow, as you open the window. "what are you doing here? it's nearly twelve in the morning, dude."

"i know i just..." he trails off, getting lost in the attempt to find the right words. "is there a way up there?"

"aaron i don't think it's a good idea," you say, looking out the window cautiously making sure none of your parents have noticed and investigated.

"please, [name]." you think about it, and how could you really say no?

"alright, fine. there's a ladder on the side of the house." after a few moments of waiting, surely enough he returns with the ladder, fearlessly climbing up. you help him inside, even though there isn't much light in the room, you're still able to make out the dark bruises littering his body and his bloody nose. you rush to the lamp, and turn it on before going back over to the boy.

"what the hell happened to you?" you ask, concern laced in your tone. you place a hand on his cheek, studying his face making sure there are no dire injuries there apart from his nose.

"those fuckin' idiots were talking 'bout you, ma. i dont know where my head was at but i just started..hitting them," he admits, looking down, and leaning into your touch just a bit.

"aaron, baby, i need you to understand that it doesn't matter what they say, okay?" he doesn't say anything to that, and looks back up to your eyes. "c'mon, let's get you cleaned up." he nods, as you lead him to your bathroom. you switch on the light, and gesture to the counter.

"sit there," you instruct softly. he does as you say, and looks at you patiently as you get out the first aid kit. you go to stand between his legs, before you grab a wipe, and reach up to his nose.

"how bad does it hurt?" you ask, as you touch it lightly. he hisses slightly in pain.

"s'not too bad," he answers. you nod, and start to wipe away the blood. as you continue taking care of him, he simply gazes into your eyes, seemingly in a daze.

"you okay, baby?" you ask, looking at him with slight worry.

"yeah i'm good," he responds, as you apply a bandaid to the cut going across his nose. you then tilt his chin up gently to take a look at his bruised jaw.

"you poor thing," you coo.

"i'm tellin' you it's not that bad," he counters, with a small smile. you shake your head smile, and begin to patch up his knuckles. you apply some bandages, and clean up the blood. you rest your hands on his thighs, before pecking him on the lips.

"all done," you say, proud of your work. he smiles as he admires you.

"thanks," he says, before his eyes flicker to your lips. you take that as him asking for a kiss, which you happily oblige to. you lean in, kissing him softly. he kisses back contently, and after a moment you pull away.

"so who won the fight though?" you mumble against his lips. he chuckles.

"obviously me."

"oh obviously, huh?" you tease, with a small laugh. you kiss him again, smiling into it.

"only for you, [name]."

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[mid-90s-incorrect-quotes]

ruben: we need to open this locked door. stevie, give me your credit card.

stevie: here.

ruben, pocketing it: thanks. fuckshit, ray, break down the door.

[michelleinterrupted]

Can u do a fem!reader wanting to do fuckshuts hair?

stop I love this sm. also I apologize for any typos, I just got acrylics for the first time and I'm struggling rn :,)

༺ fuckshit x gn!reader ༻

Fuckshit and I laid in his bed listening to the new Bigge cd he got yesterday.

He was on his back reading lyrics along with the music in the background.

I softly picked up a curl from near my face and twirled it around my pointer finger before letting it fall.

"You have such nice hair.." I whispered since our faces were pretty close to each other.

He looked at me for a second and smiled a bit at the compliment.

"Yeah..its a pain in the ass to keep up with though." Andre sighed in annoyance at just the thought.

"I could braid it if you'd like? You know, keep it outta your face n all.." I offered.

"Fuck it, sure." He agreed.

Fuckshit got up from his spot on the bed and sat down on the floor in front of me.

I sat up and swung my legs over so he was sitting in between them.

I decided on just one braid going down his back since it wouldn't take very long.

It wasn't the easiest thing since his hair was kind of a mess but I made it work.

Once I was done I realized I didn't have anything to tie it with, I scanned his room and didn't see any in sight.

"I dont have a rubber band or anything." I said, hoping he had one I didn't see.

Andre slightly rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie and slipped the elastic he kept on his wrist, handing it back to me.

I tied off his hair and smoothed my hands over the top of his head.

"All done." I kissed the crown of his head and rested my chin on top.

"Thank you, baby. Always so good to me." He thanked and tipped his head back to peck my lips while he smiled.

any likes, comments or reblogs are appreciated!! pls dont repost on other platforms unless you give credit!!

[diacripticcomplex]

Ayato gives the same energy as Fuckshit from Mid90s