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celestie0 · 5 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

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

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

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

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

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

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

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

➸ masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

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

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

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

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for no flirting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Bros.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly.

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He feels like throwing up.

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

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

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

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

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

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

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think about fucking you all the time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10:34am you: do it then

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

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

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

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

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

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

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

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

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

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

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

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

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—” He stops himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[the end]

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

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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

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@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

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kaleldobrev · 2 years ago

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Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked.

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then.

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five.

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself.

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?”

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark.

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.”

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you.

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age.

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.”

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel.

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that.

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

#dean Winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn #supernatural #reader insert #female reader

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punkpandapatrixk · 7 months ago

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💫Current aenergy Check-In ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

You’re done learning, right? Where are you going? What are you getting? Your wish fulfilment, your karmic/cosmic rewards, your Life Purpose and self-actualisation, your raison d'être; everything becomes ever clearer from here.

Just a reminder, the term ‘Life Purpose’ may seem heavy and serious and all, but the truth of the matter is, everybody’s purpose for being born here is to remember to have a good time! Time you stopped being a slave to the pigs of capitalism XD

In you lies the power to cause a miracle to stir🍻

Miracles for all begin when a bunch of individuals believe in their innate magick. As the percentage goes up the whole world gets lifted. If this reading has appeared in your Interface of Reality, know that you’re well on your way to manifesting your Highest Intended Good.

The peeps who are going to resonate most with this PAC are probably those that have been walking a thorny path of spiritual awakening. You’ve sacrificed so much just for Humanity; damn, this world doesn’t even deserve a Soul like yours. But your happiness is just about to burst like crazy.

And even in your living your happy life you’re serving this Matrix. When you’re happy and spiritually fulfilled, the sounds, the cheers that you make, will echo throughout the world. This Matrix becomes a happier place with more happy people in it.

Where are you going? What are you getting? I didn’t put a year on this reading, so that whenever you find this in the future, that’s the timeline you’re on~

SONG: この星のどこかで (kono hoshi no dokoka de; Somewhere in This Star) from DORAEMON Nobita’s Legend of the Sun King

MOVIES: The Lord of the Rings trilogy LMAO

deck-bottom: Page of Pentacles Rx, Gold Physician (Hippocrates), Priestess of Wishes

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – It’s Perfectly Safe to Follow the Love in Your Heart

VIBE: Merry & Pippin, Arwen

how you’re doing so far – Knight of Cups

Of all the Piles, you seem to have been on a strict path of following your heart. It’s like, you’ve been being showered by so many signs and synchronicities by your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides. I’m not sure if this is because you came from a rather lax background or if you’ve had to fight for your freedom, but you’ve definitely been following your heart towards a sense of autonomy.

The thing is, that adventurer spirit of yours might have caused you to come face to face with some dangerous situations or perhaps you’ve been met with some catastrophic failures along the way. I think you became somewhat scared of following your heart now due to such past experiences. You know there’s that quote that says: ‘I’m not following my heart anymore. That bitch gives bad directions.’

Up until fairly recently you could’ve thought like that, for a bit maybe. But I think you know deep down that such a statement is not entirely correct. I think you know that following your heart, although it’s met you with some crazy adventures, has shown you the path to total liberation. Aren’t you glad you’ve been able to carve out an existence of your own~?

rest of the year – Ace of Pentacles Rx

This card being in reverse, one might think… ‘What? I won’t have money until the rest of the year?!’ It’s not like that. This is saying you’ve paid everything forward. For a number of years now you’ve been working so hard on all planes of your existence. It’s unimaginable to most people just how much ‘work’ you’ve worked to make things work! They’ll never understand it because in their eyes, there hasn’t been much, if at all, result that you’ve managed to produce.

It kinda didn’t make sense just how little the Universe was giving you for all the spiritual and inner work you’ve done on yourself. I think you could’ve felt cursed or something. Abandoned by all the forces of Light or something. So, I don’t know why it’s had to be like that, maybe some spiritual challenge or another, but you’ve paid all of that hard work in advance. Your good will didn’t go unnoticed, OK? All that you’ve prayed for and dreamt of, the Universe has a record of all of that.

The rest of this year? Please don’t work hard anymore. Don’t be afraid of the other shoe dropping. You’ve paid it all forward. The rest of this year is where your story takes a turn. Your riches are coming effortlessly. You can eat all you want when you want. You can sleep as much as you want to recover from prolonged stress. You can simply blink and your money bags are still going to refill faster than you can spend. Rejoice, baby~!

where you’re going from here – King of Swords Rx

It seems to me that your ‘previous Life’ was one where you had to live with the utmost logic. You thought and analysed everything so hard. You played by the book. You followed all the rules. You were a law-abiding citizen. But logic…I think now you know that logic only gets in the way of magic. That’s what your Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides wanted you to unlearn.

I know it’s been so hard, but it all ends here. You’ve graduated all of those hard lessons of unlearning and relearning what it means to be a Divine Human on Gaia. You’ve learnt to trust yourself! You’ve learnt to distinguish between your ego misleading you and your heart guiding you. There is so much that you can teach other people, you know. Teach them how to navigate their fears. And you’re an example of how that can be done, because you’ve crawled through hell and back again triumphant.

From here, your Life will be nothing short of magical events and encounters back-to-back again. You’re back on your natural high-frequency again. Welcome back. In fact, it’s already playing out serendipitously in recent weeks, hasn’t it? Do not fear the other shoe dropping; you’re floating now! It’s safe for you to glide where your heart is guiding you~ This is exactly where your story takes a turn. Congratulations, Champion!

CURRENTS🔻🧡

fare thee well – Silver Astronomer (Galileo Galilei)

Life’s grand adventures – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Don’t You See the Sun Already Peeking from Your Window?

VIBE: Sam & Frodo, Galadriel

how you’re doing so far – XIX The Sun Rx

‘Bad things only happen to me because I’m the main character, so it’s only part of the plot.’ This is the first thing that comes to mind as I tap into your aenergy. My gosh, this card here is telling me you haven’t had a single day of sunshine for a stupidly long time. You’ve had to go through a Sam & Frodo arc, it seems. Walking barefoot to Mordor to destroy some evil old paradigm that you’ve likely inherited from a stupid part of your bloodline.

An ancestor some lines back, some time, some when, some where, fucked up big time and you’re fixing shit for everybody. Just like those little Hobbits who totally ain’t got any relation to some war 3000 years prior but they’re the ones suffering the MOST the entire story! XD It’s kinda been like that for you for some time now. My god, I feel for you! But, the fact that this card has appeared here only means that things are turning around for you :D Your eternal sunshine is rising!

Well, haven’t you noticed that its ray can already be seen from your window? Hasn’t it got warmer even the slightest bit now? Things have gotten significantly easier even if they’re only small improvements, right? You’re currently travelling back to Rivendell on the backs of the Great Eagles. It’s easy-peasy from now. You can relax. Take a deep breath. Breathe in that chlorophyll from the Nature around you~! XD

rest of the year – 5 of Pentacles

What a strange card to appear here, but this is essentially saying that you’re rebuilding what’s been broken and reclaiming what’s been stolen. Your whole world—your ‘normal’—was destroyed by some forces and you had to unlearn what you took for granted as ‘reality’, and again, relearn what it means to be a Divine You whilst existing in society. All that was destroyed, stolen from you…none of it was the real you anyway. So it’s okay that it all disappeared.

You were able to discover the pure gem that is the real you that was hidden beneath those ‘identities’, habits, customs, norms, and everything else you were told you should be, when in reality, you were always somewhat different somewhere deep in your psyche. You weren’t like everybody else and you didn’t even want the things they wanted. But you conformed because it was a matter of survival.

Rest of this year, you’re still going to heal from all of that bullshit. More like, healing from the aftermath of fighting for your true Divine Identity as your I AM essence. The rest of the year, you’re healing more than doing or jumping to the next adventure. All good Souls deserve a good rest after a good battle! You’ve won against the Matrix; you’ve won against society and/or tradition. For now, celebrate this huge win~

where you’re going from here – Ace of Cups Rx

After this healing period, I see that you’re only beginning to find your bearing again in the world. It’s OK that these things take time. All good things take time to rebuild. If you want to speed up your manifestation with subliminals, try those that contain perfect self-concept affirmations to solidify your sense of self-worth ;P The Sun is rising and it’s getting brighter and bigger in your world.

Soon, you won’t even remember being this gloomy creature that you’ve been for a while. I see that in time, you’ll find yourself being creative again, being motivated, and clear about what you want and can do in this world. So many of your natural talents are going to burst out of you, making you work endlessly for a goal that truly matters. So as you can see, cherish this healing phase.

The solitude you’re in now is serving your highest good. This time is making space for you to heal, rehab, grow (or grow back), and release even more remnants of your old self, old world. This isn’t going to last forever and if you can heal in quiet, isn’t that ideal? Nobody’s gonna know you in this healing phase that sometimes can get a little awkward, cringe, or downright ugly XD

CURRENTS🔻💙

fare thee well – Silver Astrologer (John Dee)

Life’s grand adventures – Priestess of Healing

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – In the Full Embrace of Your Higher Self, Spirit Guides and Cosmic Ancestors, Go Forward!

VIBE: Aragorn & Legolas, Gandalf the White

how you’re doing so far – 4 of Swords Rx

Of all the Piles, yours carries the strongest feeling of ‘action’. You’re being carried somewhere more suitable for your frequency. In many ways, you’re also being carried where you’re needed. This can differ for everybody but the majority of you will still feel a sense of calm and belonging though. So it isn’t like you’re being thrown into a war zone just because you have the capacity to fend off enemies or heal wounded soldiers XD

Not like that. Not really. This aenergy is a bit convoluted… But basically, up until now you’ve been a fighter of sort, just like Aragorn, Legolas and Gandalf. Fighting for something important, defending causes that matter. Up until then, you were Gandalf the Grey, and then at some point you died, and now you’ve been reborn as Gandalf the White. That’s about the gist of how you’ve been doing.

Sooner than later, the forces of the Universe are going to make you move places or jobs. There’s a strong sense of being moved to a different location. But if that doesn’t resonate, you could be improving your house or like there’s this sense of a change of scenery, one way or another. It’s deeply needed. You’ve been breathing in muddy waters, you know.

rest of the year – XX The Last Judgement Rx

The fact that your cards are all in reverse is indicating a waiting period until you’re thrown into your next mission. Yeah, like Gandalf the Grey in waiting to become Gandalf the White. Rest of the year you’re gaining momentum. I think you could be hearing some good news from something you’ve applied for? Or this could signify the advent of a once-in-a-lifetime kind of opportunity suddenly presenting itself to you.

The clarion call is clarioning LOL This is why I think you’re being called to a different place, but if not, then a higher plane of existence. So this could also mean a job promotion or a new, improved way to earn your keep. There is a sense of finally serving your highest purpose with a talent or spiritual gift you’ve been refining, polishing in recent years. You could be healing people in ways that don’t necessarily look like ‘healing’.

You know? You could be elevating other people’s spirits and helping them transmute their own bullshit by just allowing them to connect or work with you. If this is your main pile, you’re definitely an aenergy worker. A spirit worker. Maybe even a miracle worker. All thanks to your insanely high-frequency. Babe, you ain’t even in this realm anymore XD

where you’re going from here – Page of Cups

I feel very strongly that you’re someone who possesses wisdom beyond the mundane. You’re practical, you’re sensible, but you’re so Universal that all your wisdom is timeless. You’re someone who has the ability to connect with all peoples; young and old, female and male, rich and poor, famous and regular, what have you. Your words reverberate through the ages.

I feel that you’re somebody who holds timeless wisdom and not just ancient or occult. Your highest religion, so to speak, is Love and Respect for all people. So, no matter what you have to say and share with the world, most people will be able to see that you come from the highest place of Love. That you possess the desire to heal and empower all people.

That said, you’re going to be put in a place where you can connect with all kinds of people, all for you to inspire Love in them. Yes, Love, and it comes in all kinds of different ways, right? First and foremost, I see that you’re someone who can teach people how to love themselves first. How they can expect more, better, for themselves. And only true Love can provide that sense of fulfilment.

Old people are going to be rejuvenated by you. Young people are going to be inspired by you. That’s your superpower that needs to be witnessed by the world <3

CURRENTS🔻💚

fare thee well – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

Life’s grand adventures – Priestess of Contemplation

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

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saeun · 6 months ago

Text

+ love, ‘su: he's so crazyyyy!!! can't take him anywhere lol XD ── tw. mentions of murder (not u)

yuta’s been acting weird, but you can’t put your finger on it. you’ve this aching gut feeling that something’s off with him, but he hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary.

he’s still acts like your loving boyfriend who refuses to sleep unless his arms are wrapped around you. each time the thought of yuta suddenly changing crosses you, a pang of guilt hits you.

you don’t want to doubt him, but it’s getting difficult to not suspect him. he’s no longer punctual — you can’t predict his timing anymore. even the hour he returns home is now a guessing game.

what happened to him? something’s weird — no, not just weird. it’s terrifying. physically it’s your yuta but is it really? why are his eyes unfocused all the time? is something or someone bothering him?

questions after questions swirl through yet there isn’t an answer that can satisfy you. you need yuta to speak, but he dances around the questions, refusing to give in.

the more you pry the more he gets annoyed. he doesn’t show it, but his firm answer never fails to stop you.

“baby, i said nothing. is. wrong.” he’d insist, warmingly smiling at you before he follows up with a question. “don’t you trust me?”

like usual, you’d remain silent, unable to drag it on. the conversations continued to run in circles. soon you gave up.

you can’t shake off the feeling, nor can you make him talk. as unfortunate as it is, it’s better to go with the flow. it’d be meaningless to anger him with butting in his business.

as for yuta, it pains him that he’s acting so cold, but that’s the only way to get you to stop. he loves you — worships you — but it’ll be detrimental if you were to find out that he isn’t your sweet boy.

you shower him with praises everyday, he can’t imagine what life would be like if he loses you. you’ve always said his hands are your favourite, which is why he bought multiple pairs of gloves. he can’t have the hands you adore be tainted. it’s a bit sloppy to cover his traces, but it’ll do.

after all, he’s not skilled in killing humans yet. his expertise is knowing how to murder curses, but maybe he can transfer those skills to humans too.

truth be told, this has been going on for some time. if he were to recall correctly, it’s been approximately twenty-three days since his first killing. he didn’t plan for it to happen — heavens, no! it just… did.

yuta’s self control is something worthy to be jealous of, but he lost every ounce of it that night. he gifted you a new dress, one that’s perfect to be dolled up in an expensive club that’s part casino. so said, so done.

you were his woman, ever so beautiful, but like moths to a flame, you attracted unnecessary attention. the amount of men that attempted to whisk you away exceeded the number ten. he couldn’t keep count on his fingers anymore. of course, you never hesitated to reject them. you even went as far as to slip in “i’m here with my boyfriend” whenever they approached.

but they were filthy flies. flies aren’t able to read the room, nor can they handle rejection. they’ll always come back to the meal — even if all they got was a whiff of the scent. flies are known to be pesky, greedy animals. unless you see them to their death, they’ll never leave.

the night played out smoothly, but yuta’s annoyance wasn’t soothed. he wanted to relieve it physically. he needed absolute dominance over something — something that’ll be easy to register a power imbalance with. what’s better than to overpower one of the flies? they’d be drunk and yuta happened to have held his alcohol, so he’s quite sober.

once he’s assured you were in deep sleep, he quietly left to set his plan in motion. he never thought that he’d feel ‘the hunter and the prey’ emotions against a human, but here he is. life is truly unpredictable. it’s unfortunate the random fly that was singled out couldn’t predict his murder.

a death by asphyxiation. the easiest way to kill someone if it’s your first time. yuta didn’t bother to clean up, simply opting for dragging the body in a back alley. there’s been a number of violent crimes the past week, he was sure it’ll be played off as one of those crimes. in that way, he won’t ever be suspected, and he was correct.

however, yuta, too, fell to greed. the adrenaline rush, the feeling of seeing someone struggle, the continuance of the life of someone being his decision to make — he wanted more. he couldn’t settle for just one. with long eyes that yearned for more than he should’ve, yuta’s killings didn’t stop. it soon became a pattern: every two weeks he’d kill someone — it didn’t matter who, as long as they did something he deemed wrong. yuta believed he acted on justice, but he knew he was just as wrong.

he became a vigilante to some, and a serial killer to others. regardless of what the public viewed him as, it caused unrest. the only time he stopped was the day you refused to go out in fear of the increase of murders in your city. your pain is his pain, he couldn’t bear to watch you cower in fear at the thought of becoming the next addition to the kill count.

the stop only lasted for one scheduled killing. he returned to his usual activities, becoming more and more skilled. with each murder he became braver — sometimes taking a limb off depending on if he liked the person or not.

but every secret was bound to be revealed, and his almost got caught when you found a patch of blood on his sweatpants.

“yuta, did you injure yourself and didn’t tell me?” you asked him with a disappointed tone, holding up his sweatpants to show the blood.

his heart stopped, a sick feeling in his stomach bubbled up. he didn’t injure himself, but he injured (killed) someone else. it’s not like he can say that and hope you bypass it.

“oh — i, i did,” he answered, nervously laughing. “i accidentally dropped the knife on my leg, sorry baby.”

it was a half-assed excuse, but since you trust him, you’ll believe it.

“then you should’ve told me!” you pouted, jokingly thinking that he didn’t trust you.

“sorry, sorry. but next time, don’t wash my clothes. i’ll do it.” it was a sudden demand, subtly killing the mood.

your eyebrows furrowed. you found it weird, but didn’t question it. yuta knew how absurd he sounded, but he can’t have you connecting the dots. sooner or later you would’ve realised his lies.

however, even without the clothes, you still found holes in his behaviour. you kept quiet about it until you couldn’t, but that resulted in him redirecting the conversation.

you’re too smart for your own good, if you were to cast aside your trust in him and realise your worries aren’t insane, you’d leave yuta in a heartbeat. he can’t have that. he won’t settle for it. heavens know what he’d resort to just to keep you in his arms.

yuta’s your sweet boy, and he’ll continue to be. if it meant giving up the killings, he’d do it. it won’t be too hard to find a replacement to satisfy his needs. but, would he need to give it up? if you find out, can’t he keep you tied down with him? he’s the hunter, after all.

#. ae-generated: jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #yuta x reader #yuta x you #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta oneshot #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk oneshot #this isnt fluff nor angst nor smut so im not sure what else to tag 👤

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yuikomorii · 7 months ago

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I got a question but I need an objective answer please. So I saw a lot of people complain about Yui being written in a very bad way in Ayato’s routes starting with More Blood and was curious if you think that she became a bad girlfriend as the story progressed?

// I will analyze Yui’s versions from Ayato’s routes and provide an answer at the end of this post.

More Blood:

Even from the first two chapters we are aware of the fact that Yui got a big crush on Ayato merely because of his looks and pleasure he gave her. At first sight, these reasons seem very superficial, but at the same time you can’t blame her completely for that. Yui went to a normal school and used to read magazines for teens, therefore it’s obvious she would have hormones and fall in love with someone who got features portrayed as the beauty standard.

It's understandable why some found her annoying, as she repeatedly cried for Ayato's love without making any real effort to earn it. Apart from giving him her blood, she didn't try to understand what he was going through, even when she noticed changes in him that made him crave so much blood.

Nevertheless, I believe that she did redeem herself in the last chapters, where she admitted being selfish and only thinking about her own desires, instead of focusing on Ayato’s struggles too. I know she paralyzed him out of jealousy and cheated on him in the bad endings, but in the good one, she’s actually a really loyal person. Yui waited years for Ayato to wake up from the coma and Ayato searched for Yui for years in his dream until he finally woke up. This ending confirmed the genuineness of their love.

In the After Story, Ayato planned to attend university for Yui's sake, aiming to get a job and buy a house. Yui helped Ayato with his studies and praised his skills. Initially, she fell for his looks, but in the After Story, she mentioned falling in love with him again because of his caring, determined, and hardworking personality.

Vandead Carnival & Lunatic Parade:

I really liked Yui in both of Ayato's routes and honestly, I can't find anything to criticize about her behavior.

It's not that Yui was a bad partner; it's just that Ayato was portrayed as too good, such as when he ran through flames for her or protected her from a bomb explosion. But that's likely because these are fan service games, where the love interests are designed to be your knights in shining armor. xD

Dark Fate:

I absolutely loved Yui’s portrayal in that route. It was the sweetest version of Yui I’ve ever seen, and I really enjoyed seeing her so happy and soft. Regarding her relationship with Ayato, he was truly the apple of her eye, lol.

The only problematic thing she did was pushing Ayato to face his abuser, Cordelia, even though he didn’t want to. I honestly don’t care if a character does something to another character, as long as it doesn’t affect them and the story, so since Ayato didn’t get mad at her for that, I didn’t mind it much either. However, from an objective point of view, I agree that doing such a thing is quite bad. Being in the presence of someone who ruined your life can trigger intense memories and forcing a confrontation removes the victim's agency in deciding how to cope with their trauma. Ayato might not have been mad at Yui for planning that, but if it had been Laito, I’m sure he would have shown why Yui was in the wrong.

Other than that, she was a kind and supportive girlfriend throughout the whole route, clearly having no ill intent, and I appreciate that she had an actual important role in the route.

Lost Eden:

Ok, I really can’t defend her anymore there. She literally had no redeeming qualities, no matter how many times she got the chance to fix herself. I discussed my thoughts about LE Yui in this post, but I’ll sum it up.

She tried to convince Ayato that despite Cordelia abusing him, she actually did it because she “cared about his future”, and then acted surprised when Ayato started feeling uncomfortable because of her words.

Yui knew the reasons behind Ayato’s behavior, yet when his brothers started mocking him, she didn’t even try to defend him. Everyone ganged up on Ayato, and he was on the verge of a panic attack, yet she remained silent.

Another terrible scene was in one of the last chapters, when Ruki admitted to turning the Vibora Clan and Church organization against Ayato out of envy, aiming to kill him. Instead of criticizing Ruki’s actions, Yui justified them and spoke ill of Ayato behind his back. I wouldn’t like to date someone who claims to love me but keeps hurting me without learning anything… It felt as if Ayato only continued being together with her because he had no one else. No wonder he didn’t marry her there.

Chaos Lineage:

I found Yui quite boring in CL in general, but she started off as determined and sweet in his route, so I liked that.

For most of the route, Yui’s entire personality seemed to revolve around Ayato, and she didn’t do much. There were many cheesy moments between them that made me cringe. Still, I’m sure a certain audience enjoyed those.

My only complaint is that when his brothers started treating Ayato unfairly, despite the fact that he came up with the idea of breaking the glass floor of the church, Yui did nothing to defend him, again.

However, I do appreciate that she gave him that adorable monologue. I just wish she had done it in front of others instead of only acting when Ayato was already insecure and sad.

Now… let’s see what kind of girlfriend Yui was in each route by judging her progress:

MB: Good

VC: Good

DF: Very good

LP: Good

LE: Very bad

CL: Decent

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #dialovers #komori yui #admin

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cloverapple · 17 days ago

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do you have anymore advice? your post helped me so much pls I need more

The Restaurant Analogy For Reality Shifting

Aghhh I told myself I wasn’t going to post anything else, yet here I am XD. Hopefully this is helpful.

You already know how to shift. “Oh, but I—” nope. Nope. You already know how to shift. How do I know that? Because shifting is simply the act of becoming aware of your desired reality. And how do you become aware? By focusing, by choosing what you want to become aware of. When your focus and intention are aligned with your DR, you’re already shifting.

“But the symptoms—“

Oh to grab and politely shake you until you realize that “becoming aware of XYZ” is merely focusing on that thing, becoming aware of it. Are you laying there focusing on your DR? Congratulations, you’ve become aware of your DR.

(There’s a very popular post on here (that I can’t find rn bc I’m rushing as I type this) that states your awareness shifts first and then your senses follow. I cannot stress enough how true that is.)

When you lay down to shift, you don’t need to overcomplicate it. Just focus on your DR and allow it to come to you. Let yourself shift. Sure, allowing it might involve slipping into an altered state of consciousness, using methods, counting or affirming—if that feels natural to you in the moment. But ultimately, it comes down to self-trust. Your mind already knows how to shift. Maybe your issue is that you just need to step out of your own way and let it happen. Which in that case:

Deciding to shift is like deciding to go to a restaurant and sitting down.

Choosing your DR is like selecting a meal from the menu.

Letting your subconscious do the work is like trusting the chef in the kitchen to cook your meal.

What happens next? Inevitably, the chef brings out your meal—you become aware of your DR.

Now, what NOT to do:

You don’t march into the kitchen and grab the ingredients from the chef. You don’t argue with them about how they’re making your meal. Your chef, your mind, knows how to cook. You don’t pace back and forth from the kitchen to your table, spiraling in doubt, wallowing in self-pity, or crying to everyone in the restaurant about how you’ll never get your food and how you’re doomed to starve. You don’t leave the restaurant altogether. You sit down, relax, and trust the process.

“But what if my meal takes a year, or two, or even more?”

Well, think about it—what have you been doing during that time? Have you been running into the kitchen? Losing faith in the chef? Accusing him of not knowing how to cook? Your beliefs shape your reality. What you believe—what you truly believe—is what manifests.

This even applies to the “restaurant.” If you believe your meal will take forever, it will. If you believe the chef isn’t cooking, they won’t be. If you believe you’ll never get your meal, then you probably won’t.

But that’s the beauty of going to the restaurant. No matter how much you doubt, the meal comes eventually. Why else would you have sat down at the restaurant?

And there’s another thing: some meals may take longer, and that’s completely fine. Even if you’ve been patiently sitting here waiting for it and it’s been taking forever in your mind, that’s completely fine. Let go of this atattchment you have to time.

So what if the meal took a year to reach your table? 2 years? 3 years? 4 years? 5 years? Has all that time passed since you’re reading this? Awesome! So why are you still focused on it?

All the time you’ve spent shifting, you will get back and more once you start shifting. 2 years? You gain it back. 3 years? Back into your hand it goes. 4 years? There it is again. 5 years? You got it back.

Focus on the now; sit at the restaurant, enjoy the live music, talk to other patrons, flip through the menu and browse because maybe you want to change your meal or try an appetiser.

“Changing the meal (my DR) means it’s going to take even longer!”

Who told you that? I don’t know what kind of cooking you guys are doing IRL, but afaik, if the stove is already on and the pan is warm, searing that stake is going to be just as quick.

“Clover, but you just implied that arguing with the chef messes with your meal!”

Arguing with the chef (your subconscious) is very different from politely poking your head through the kitchen doors and informing him that you want a different meal.

“But how do I focus on my DR?”

I love this question! When you’re sitting at the table, expecting your meal, what are you doing? You’re probably thinking about your food—imagining the flavors, the texture, the sensations of eating it, the satisfaction of finally having it. That’s how you focus on your DR.

When you’re laying there doing your shifting process, think about what it feels like to be in your DR. Use your senses. Imagine the smells, the sounds, the things you’d touch, the things you’d hear. Visualize, ground yourself, and do what feels natural for you. There’s no right or wrong way to focus—just let yourself become immersed in the idea of your DR and trust it’s coming to you.

What you need to do is simple: select your meal, sit down, and know that it’s coming. I’m not even telling you to wait for it—just know that it’s already on its way. The moment you ordered, it became yours. That’s all there is to it.

#reality shifting #shifting #shifting community #shifting blog #shifting motivation #shifting reality #permashifting #shifting methods #shifting success #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #shifters #shifting storytime #shifting tips #respawning

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sandorswhore · 1 year ago

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can you write a matt smut that starts out as reader cockwarming him while he plays his game and he loses and moves around and reader moans from it and it continues from there?

good luck charm

summary: matt’s been playing video games for too long, you get bored

warnings: cockwarming, soft dom/daddy matt, humiliation if u look close enough

somewhat inspired by @somethingheavenknows “gaming chair”

“matttyyyy” i whined “im bored”

my boyfriend had been playing fortnite for hours, no exaggeration, and i needed attention.

normally i had no issue with him playing video games, it gave me a chance to just hang out in his bed and go on my phone, occasionally color or play a game myself. but ever since “og fortnite” came back, he was always on his pc.

“wanna come sit on my lap?”

i groaned but it was better than nothing, then i got an idea. i slipped off my sweatpants i was wearing and unclasped my bra, pulling it through my sleeve. this left me in matt’s pink hershey bear tee and some black lace panties.

i walked over to him, sliding my hand on his shoulder and arm before he looked at me, quickly turning his attention back to the game. then, just as quickly, he looked back at me, his eyes going from my face, to my chest, then my thighs and back up again. i gave him an innocent smile and he smirked in return. matt patted his lap. i obeyed, awkwardly climbing over him and adjusting myself until i was comfy.

“better?” he asked genuinely.

“a little” he gave me a sweet kiss before i nuzzled (xD) my head into his neck, his scent filled up my lungs, intoxicating me.

after another ten minutes, i got bored again, short attention span i guess. i lifted my head slightly, so i was level with his ear, and pulled off the headphone covering it.

“can i give you a hickey daddy?”

he put his headphone back over his ear, which i assumed meant no. i rested back where i had been, trying to hide my disappointment.

“hey guys, i’ll keep playing but i don’t wanna be on call anymore, you’re too loud” i smiled, hearing the guys on the other side protesting.

“bye guys” he said, taking off his headset and unplugging it.

“you wanna mark me baby? make sure everyone knows i’m yours?”

“yes daddy” i whispered into his ear. i could feel him hardening under me.

“go ahead my love”

as soon as matt gave me the green light i began placing kisses all along his neck, making him chuckle lightly. i picked a spot everyone could see and began sucking my mark into him. i could feel him getting harder by the second, only amping me up more. i wanted more, i needed more.

i ground down into him, pulling a groan from him before he moved one of his hands from the controller to my hip and squeezing. hard.

“you gotta stay still baby”

“i need more daddy please”

he was quiet for a second, thinking of ways we could both get what we want. a smile crept up on his face.

“you wanna be my cockwarmer?”

i pulled back, a smile forming on my face while i nodded. he already knew the answer, seeing as it was one of my favorite things to do.

“words princess”

“yes, want you inside me daddy”

he gave me a quick kiss before placing his controller on the desk in front of him. he smacked my ass lightly, his way of telling me to sit up so he could pull his sweats and boxers down. he moved my panties to the side, feeling how wet i was in the process.

“aw my poor baby, you’re soaked” he teased.

i just whined, pulling him into a kiss as he used my arousal to slick up his cock. he lined himself up, pressing my thighs and making me sink down on him. i tried to pull away from the kiss to let my moans out but he bit my lip and swallowed my noises.

once i had bottomed out, matt pulled away from the kiss and brought his hand up to my face. he had such a hard grip on my face that i couldn’t look anywhere but him.

“wanna play a game baby?”

i looked at him confused, pouting a bit because i did not want to play video games.

“you’ll like it i promise” he smiled, staring into my eyes. “i’m gonna play another round with the guys, you’re going to sit here and be a good cockwarmer” i frowned. as much as i loved cockwarming him, i needed more, i just wanted him to fuck me already.

“and if you’re a good cockwarmer, which means no moving, no sounds, no clenching, then daddy’ll fuck you however you want.”

i perked up, my eyes meeting his again. i smiled and nodded, this was gonna be fun.

“i’m gonna get back on the call, you’re gonna be silent. you wouldn’t want everyone hearing your sweet noises” i might actually want that.

“or maybe you do, maybe you want everyone to know what a little slut you are for daddy” fuck, he can read my mind.

i nestled my head in his neck again, feeling my cheeks heat up from embarrassment.

“either way, you’re going to be silent, be good for daddy. understood?”

“i understand daddy” i squeaked out, knowing he would want verbal confirmation. “my smart little girl” i smiled at the praise.

i let out a big sigh, getting as comfortable as i could while matt opened the discord (LMFAO) app on his phone and hopped on the channel with everyone.

“hey i’m back” he said, placing his phone on the desk and grabbing his controller.

“why?” someone whose voice i didn’t recognize asked.

“i got bored” lie

“what about y/n?” i tensed up when i heard nick say my name.

“she’s good” he placed a kiss on my cheek, letting me know i was doing well, “she’s zoned out on tiktok” another lie

i held back a giggle, amused by his very blatant lies.

it had been about twenty minutes and if we’re being honest i was a mess. i was basically drooling all over matt’s shirt but i was being good. i hadn’t moved or clenched and i stayed silent. it was hard but i just focused on how good it would be when he finally fucked me.

at one point, matt started button mashing, tensing his cock inside me. out of instinct and desperate to not make any noise, i bit down on his shoulder. i expected some reprimand from him but he said nothing. i decided that might be a good way to distract myself.

i started slowly placing wet kisses down his neck and shoulder, seeing if he would stop me. he didn’t though, he kept playing his game, making small talk with his friends. i began sucking small hickies into his shoulder and neck, his tank top allowing me access to more skin. it was a good coping mechanism, until they lost.

“damnit chris!” matt shouted, the other guys making similar remarks. in his anger, he pushed up into me, making me bite down on his shoulder again to hold back any noise.

matt leaned forward and ended the call, leaving his controller next to his phone.

“‘m sorry daddy” i felt bad, tears filled my lash line at the thought of him being mad at me.

“it’s okay angel, it’s not your fault i lost, if anything you helped, my little good luck charm” he rubbed my back, giving me a kiss on my head, still buried in his neck.

matt pulled my head back, cupping my face in his hands. he looked into my eyes and must’ve saw the tears because his expression dropped.

“hey, hey baby, don’t cry. are you okay?”

“jus don’t want you to be mad at me”

he pulled me into a sweet short kiss before disconnecting out lips and pressing his forehead against mine.

“daddy’s not mad sweetheart, you were so good for me” i could hear the relief in his voice, knowing i wasn’t hurt.

“and because you were so good, daddy’s gonna fuck you however you want. you still want that baby?”

i nodded frantically, him stilling my movements by kissing me. matt stood up, holding right underneath my ass. i gasped into the kiss, which was muffled in his lips. matt kept kissing me, fighting to explore my mouth with his tongue. there was no need though, i parted my lips, letting him in with no resistance from me. he kicked his bottoms off and placed me on the bed, hovering over me. he moved his kisses down my neck, nipping at my skin.

“how do you want me to fuck you angel?”

i honestly hadn’t thought about it, despite how much time i had, but the feeling of his weight on top of me, the thought of our chests pressed together and being able to watch his face contort in pleasure made the choice easy.

“fuck, like this daddy please, wanna see you” i grabbed at his shirt, pulling it up his torso as much as i could before he yanked it over his head.

matt pulled my shirt up and lifted it gently over my head, careful not to get it stuck on my nose or ears. i blushed at the simple gesture, he was always so gentle with me, even when he wanted to ruin me, matt made sure i was comfortable.

he finally began thrusting into me, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. i was getting the pleasure i had been craving for the last hour, and it was incredible.

“god you feel so good baby, so warm and tight” his words drove me crazy and he knew it.

i could feel my orgasm approaching quickly, matt’s deep thrusts becoming too much.

“daddy, ‘m close” i whined.

“gonna cum already baby? is daddy making you feel that good?”

“yes fuck feels so good”

“let go for me princess, be a good girl and cum on my cock” he sped up his thrusts.

i let out a moan that could almost be classified as a scream as matt fucked me through my high. but i quickly realized, he wasn’t stopping.

“daddy! s’too much” i yelled, clawing my nails down his back and along his arms.

“you can take it baby, you’re gonna cum one more time for me okay? whenever you’re ready”

i let out the most pathetic, lewd noises known to man as matt ruthlessly pounded into me. the only term to describe it was euphoric, i was seeing stars every time i closed my eyes. i could feel my orgasm creeping up on me again, i wanted to warn matt but i couldn’t form a sentence. i babbled at him, parts of words coming out between whines and moans.

“close again angel?” i just whimpered at him, hoping he’d know what i meant.

“go on baby, i wanna feel you clench around me then daddy’ll fill you with his cum” he whispered into my ear, speeding up his thrusts even more if possible. i needed him to cum inside me, i felt like i’d die if i didn’t feel him fill me up.

“please” i managed to squeak out.

i let out a loud cry before matt placed his lips on mine, absorbing any noise i made. as soon as i came, i felt his hot cum coating my walls. he fucked me through both of our orgasms before collapsing on top of me. it was the most incredible feeling i’ve ever experienced, i felt like i was floating, despite his weight on top of me.

matt propped himself up on his elbows and began peppering my face with kisses. i giggled, pulling my hands up to my face to try and cover it. he grabbed my wrists moving them away and placed a passionate kiss to my lips. it was the kind of kiss that says ‘i love you, i cherish you’ without any words. matt pulled away.

“you okay my love?” he asked, finally pulling out of me. i felt so empty without him, it was such a strange feeling.

“mhm” i nodded.

“you wanna take a nap?”

“yes please”

matt began to pull out of me but i wrapped my legs around him, my feet kicking his butt. (lol) he looked at me confused.

“can you stay inside me?” i looked up at him, making the best puppy eyes i could. the thought of him pulling out, not being filled by him, honestly made me sad.

“are you sure baby?” he knew i liked cockwarming but not this much.

“please, i feel so full, it feels so fucking good” he giggled at me, kissing all over my face again.

“do you know how much i love you?” he placed a kiss on my forehead, “how cute you are?” a kiss on my nose, “how goddamn sexy you are?” finally kissing my lips.

“i think i have an idea”

#sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

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phlurrii · 4 months ago

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Alrighty! Some quick updates, my house’s water pipes exploded and we lost 3 rooms, including both main bathrooms…. Not an ideal living situation -3-

We’re going to be displaced for about 2 months whilst still attempting to do school/work, so I don’t really have a stable living situation anymore and that’s been messing with me due to a lot of personal reasons I won’t get into. Beyond that, the rooms we lost contained alot of my late father’s belongings I am being forced to sell given we don’t have the space to store them anymore. Which has been the worst part and I am pathetic about getting rid of my dad’s collectables given how much they mean to me. My dad was really fucking awesome, genuinely the best father I could’ve ever asked for, so having both my home and what I have left of him get taken is very not fun to put it in simple terms.

That aside, everything’s kinda just…. A lot. Right now. Nothing is exactly stable and while I know it’ll be fine, I just lowkey don’t love existing at the moment XD

So the only thing I really wanna do is draw transformers and cope, as always patreon content and general doodles/one off comics will still exist, but I’m just not gonna be worrying about the main comic until all of this™️ goes away. Thus, you all are getting a dosage robots alongside your cats, or I’m gonna cry XD

#mod speak #update #sona doodle

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damagedcoda6669 · 9 months ago

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hiiiii!!!! i was wondering if u could share some of the most common to least common bpd symptoms?….and maybe ones u struggle with??? <:3

ive been thinking i have bpd for awhile,, (since i was 15,i’m almost 18 now) BUT i dont wanna self diagnose bc i don’t wanna offend anyone……is that offensive? to self diagnose? idek <:p

there isnt rlly least 2 most common, bpd is a spectrum and has a wide range of experiences!!! but i will list the diagnostic criteria 4 u, and explain it in a way some1 first learning abt bpd can understand ^w^

u must experience at least 5 of the 9 symptoms from the criteria in order 2 be diagnosed!!!

1: frantic efforts 2 avoid real or imagined abandonment; this does not include suicidal or self mutilating behavior covered in criteria 5.

this means an intense fear of abandonment. if u have bpd, being abandoned by those u love is most likely ur biggest fear. ik its mine!!! xD this can look like a number of things. this can include an avoidant attachment style, pushing ppl away becuz u feel a need 2 abandon them first b4 it happens 2 u. u might do the opposite and cling rlly hard. u might resort 2 manipulation tactics n threats 2 try 2 get them 2 stay even if its not in their best interest (not every1 w bpd does this, and not every1 w bpd doing this is doing it on purpose. ive done this in the past b4 i reflected on my own behavior and realized it was wrong. we r not abusers by default and we dont have bad intentions.) u might beg them 2 stay, promise them things, try 2 change urself 4 them, yell at them 4 wanting 2 leave. its terrifying what the fear might do 2 u.

2: a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes of idealization and devaluation.

this ones pretty simple, consistently unstable relationships throughout ur life!!! but it might get a lil confusing at "extremes of idealization and devaluation", so ill try 2 explain that using a term from the bpd community, "splitting". splitting is when u switch from one extreme view of a person, object, character, pretty much anything, 2 the opposite. it USUALLY means going from loving some1 2 hating them, but it can mean the opposite (hating 2 loving), and it can apply 2 anything, not just a person. a good example of splitting is when ur fp (favorite person, another term from the bpd community) disagrees with u abt smth, or u see them hanging out with other ppl, u mightve viewed them as perfect b4 and now u feel an intense hatred and can only see them as a bad person. 2 other ppl, experiencing such a drastic change in perception over smth so small is seen as ridiculous, but rlly its entirely valid. its part of the disorder, its okay.

3: markedly and persistently unstable self image or sense of self.

u dont rlly know who u r a lot of the time, u dont have a strong sense of identity, if any at all. u might change styles often, change the way u talk, the jokes u make, ur beliefs, ur interests, ur hobbies. u might find urself basing ur entire personality on those around u. a common experience is that when ur favorite person or favorite ppl leave u, u dont know who u r anymore, becuz ur entire sense of self was mirrored from them. its like being a chameleon, but ur constantly mirroring other ppl, and ur nevr rlly ur own person.

4: impulsivity in at least two areas that r potentially self damaging (the examples listed in the DSM-5 include spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, and binge eating, but i will provide moar examples!!!); this does not include suicidal or self mutilating behavior covered in criteria 5.

this ones also pretty simple!!! but personally i find that i become moar impulsive while in a bad headspace, or while im having a bpd episode/suicidal outburst. moar impulsive actions may include property damage, physical fights, running away, cutting contact with ppl, getting in contact with ppl who u know r dangerous, etc. those r all i could think of off the top of my head and they may not be the best examples, srry!!! :(

5: recurrent suicidal behaviors, gestures, threats, or self mutilating behavior.

i would like 2 say that self harm doesnt just mean cutting!!! self harm includes burning, hitting, ripping out hair, picking at skin, stabbing, and many moar. personally ive always been a cutter and i started when i was 9 or 10, but i want every1 2 know that all self harm is valid and this is a safe space 2 discuss it. im not gonna make any1 feel ashamed of it <3 also!!! suicidal threats and gestures may come across as manipulative, but that is almost NEVR our intention. we may act out in suicidal ways becuz its the only thing that gets us any sort of attention or care that we desperately need. i dont give a shit abt "ew theyre threatening suicide 4 attention, lets ignore them" becuz attention is a basic human need, and some1 threatening suicide REGARDLESS of their intentions is always a concern. whether its a call 4 help or not, they need help. dont disregard their mental health becuz their suicidal ideation doesnt present in an "acceptable" manner. all suicidal ideation, IS suicidal ideation. whether its passive, 4 attention, active w a plan, its all valid and requires attention and care.

6: affective instability due 2 a marked reactivity of mood (eg, intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely moar than a few days)

intense mood swings!!! u can feel happy one moment, and then switch 2 being depressed or anxious, and then go back 2 "normal" 10 minutes later. sometimes it just happens 4 no reason!!! absolutely fucking sucks

7: chronic feelings of emptiness.

this one is hard 2 explain and can mean varying things 4 different ppl. 4 me, it means i will never be happy in the long term (maybe with medication, but.. rawdogging life? bad idea) nothing gives me any sort of long term joy and i dont feel like i have a purpose. its like theres a hole in my chest that will nevr be filled. nothing will make me complete.

8: inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (eg, frequent displays of temper, constant anger, or recurrent physical fights)

angy

(also not every1 w bpd gets in2 physical fights or r angry at other ppl often, some ppl r moar angry at themselves)

9: transient, stress related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

paranoia is a symptom of bpd!!! although its shortlived in nature, and as stated above, stress related. dissociative symptoms can also present in a variety of ways!!! u can present with a fractured sense of self which may actually lead 2 u developing headmates iirc, but with them usually appearing as other versions of urself. or u might just dissociate due 2 stress or ur brain wanting 2 remove traumatic memories, 4 me dissociating feels like the whole world is fuzzy and blurry and i cant form any thoughts or emotions. i have dissociative amnesia and experience memory loss when this happens, which sucks becuz i dissociate at least once everyday. my memories r incredibly spotty and unreliable, its liek my brain is made of swiss cheese!!!

personally, i experience all of the symptoms from the diagnostic criteria, and they all effect my life on a daily basis. but that isnt 2 say that u need all of them in order 2 have bpd, as i said b4, u only need at least 5!!! there r also different types of bpd (not medically, theyre labels created by the bpd community) look in2 it if u resonate with some of the symptoms but not all of them!!! a lot of ppl who suspect they have bpd but dont present in a stereotypical way often relate 2 the term "quiet bpd", i recommend looking in2 it!!!

self diagnosis is entirely valid, and most of the ppl who r offended by it r neurotypical or they dont have the disorders that ppl r self diagnosing with. it stems mostly from ableism towards autistic ppl, specifically autistic ppl who self diagnose becuz they know theyre autistic but dont have the resources/time 2 get a diagnosis from a professional. if u believe ur borderline, and u've done ur research, i believe u. self diagnosis is not actually offensive 2 those who have mental disorders, im pretty sure the bpd community is accepting of self diagnosis!!! and if u cant find a community of ppl who r accepting of ur self diagnosis, just know that i believe u and this is a safe space 4 self diagnosis and ppl w bpd :3

bpd is also incredibly hard 2 get diagnosed with. its one of the most stigmatized disorders and often mental health professionals have a bias against it. sometimes, professional diagnosis is not an option 4 us. i knew i had bpd 4 years b4 i was able 2 get diagnosed. good luck!!!!

#jack.txt #birdie #damagedcoda6669 #bpd #bpd awareness #borderline personality disorder #mental health #bpd safe #tw s3lf harm #tw self h4rm #tw sui ideation #tw self harm #tw sh #tw suicidal ideation

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honeybubblebeeeeee · 1 year ago

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Breaking Up Slowly || Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

Gojo had broken up with you, for his own reasons but he still couldn’t stay away from you.

Part 2

You may read this and be like huh not realistic but i am writing this bec i was in this situation and it still got me messed up XD smut/hurt no comfort ://// (oral giving/receiving, penetration, creampie, nothing crazy) bad at writing smut bear with me

(also send requests! i appreciate them they help smmmm with writers block <3)

Your relationship with Satoru wasn’t ever a negative one. You two were compatible in all aspects. Your relationship was healthy. Until it wasn’t.

“I don’t understand! Just tell me what I did!” Tears were overflowing from your eyes as Satoru just stood at the door, a bag of his clothes over his shoulder. He couldn’t look at you even thought he was the one that ended things.

“It’s not you. I just don’t want a relationship anymore.” He looked to his feet and shifted uncomfortably.

You stared in disbelief. You had done nothing but give him everything. Anything he needed, you gave. You didn’t make a big deal when he was gone a long time and wouldn’t even answer his phone. You didn’t make a scene even when he was around and still needed space. You understood his job was hard. You didn't get mad at him when you hadn't seen him for weeks and when you finally did he didn't want to spend time with you.

“But why? Am I too much? Did I do something? Did I not do something?” You overthought every moment in an instant. You two had always talked when something was wrong. This is the first time there has been an issue and it wasn’t spoken about.

“No. I told you it’s not you. I just don’t want to be in a relationship. I have other things to focus on.” His blindfold masked any emotion that could be behind his eyes. It wasn’t often he wore it around you. So this felt like a punishment.

Taking in a breath you asked the hard question. “Are you seeing someone else?”

His head snapped to you and he took a step towards you but stopped himself from advancing further. “What? No. Of course not. I still want to be friends with you. I want to help you when you need it and….. and if you want we can still be, ya know, intimate.”

You scoffed at him. “You want nothing to do with me but you still want to have sex with me.”

Satoru sighed. “I still want you around. I just don’t want a relationship.”

Your heart felt like it was snapping in two. “Go. Get out.”

Satoru held out a hand. “Look Y/N, I-“

“Just go Gojo.” A flash of hurt crossed his face at your refusal to even use his name. He merely nodded at you and left.

. . .

A few days had gone by. Gojo had not spoken to you. You considered blocking his contact but it hurt too much. Part of you wanted him to take it back. To say he didn’t mean it and to come back. However part of you felt better with him gone. True feelings of how lonely you actually felt around him had risen to the surface now that you weren’t blinded by your love for him.

You were making your way to a hiking trail nearby your house when your phone started to ring. Pulling it out of your pocket, Gojo’s face lit up the screen. It felt like your heart was breaking all over again.

You considered not answering it but as the last ring started you accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey! I just had to tell you this so I’m out with Yuji right. We were walking through the market and this curse comes out of nowhere. Sukuna and Yuji switch and apparently Sukuna knew the curse.” Gojo ranted on about whatever predicament he had been in. You were too stunned to say anything but oh, okay and force a laugh where it seemed appropriate. “So yeah I just thought it was so funny I had to call you to tell you.”

“Um yeah that is pretty funny.” Your mind spun. Did you imagine him breaking up with you?

“Anyway sorry to interrupt if you were busy. I just really wanted to tell you.” He sounded as if not a single aspect of this seemed wrong.

“I uh no. I wasn’t busy. I was just going to the trail by my apartment for a walk.” Through all his talking you had made it out of your apartment and almost to the trail.

“Oh really? I’m pretty close to there. I’ll come with you. I wouldn’t mind a walk. See you in a sec.” And with that he hung up.

You gaped at your phone. You almost wanted to call him back just to scream at him. You shook your head and kept walking, maybe he wouldn't be able to find you.

Just as you entered the trail, Gojo came up behind you. He smiled and waved, his dark sunglasses on. "Hey! It's nice out today huh?" You swallowed harshly and forced a smile at him. You walked in silence for a little while, Gojo's phone ringing broke the silence. "Oh sorry let me answer this." He walked away answering his phone, you stood there still in shock of how to even react to this entire situation. He was your ex-boyfriend now. So why was he acting like nothing ever happened?

He hung up and walked back towards you. "I have to go sorry but I'll catch up with you later?" He waved to you and made his way back in the direction you had both come from. You raised your hand weakly to wave to him.

. . .

A few weeks had gone by. Gojo hadn't spoken to you much. A few 'hey' and 'how are you' texts but they never went past a couple messages. Ironically it was him that was leaving you on read even though it was him who was texting you first. You hadn't physically seen him since that day in the woods.

It was late in the evening. You weren't tired but you didn't feel like doing anything in particular. In cases like this you resorted to weird hobbies at unconventional times, like baking at 11:00 pm. You had made a few batches of double chocolate chips cookies. One that had been your favourite and Gojo's. The man had a ridiculous sweet tooth and had always begged you to make them. You rarely had time to bake. It was one of those things you took for granted and regretted. If you had more time would he have stayed? Is that one of the reasons why he left?

Unsure what possessed you in the moment but you went for your phone and snapped a picture. Then sent it to him.

You: (Pic) i finally had time to make some more Gojo: ....are those the double chocolate chip ones that always stay super soft???!!! You: maybe Gojo: this physically pains me

You smiled at his silliness. You wanted to punch yourself for what you were about to do.

You: you could come by and have some i can even put some in a container for you to take home

He read the message and a few minutes had gone by. You cursed yourself. Gojo was your ex. Gojo broke up with you and here you were inviting him over cookies late at night. Smart. Real smart. You sighed ready to bask in your melancholy as your phone rang. Gojo was calling. You shouldn't answer right away right? Don't want to seem desperate... right?

"Hello?"

"I'm outside, buzz me in?"

You gaped for a moment before coming back to reality. "Oh right." You hung up and walked towards the pad by your front door, pressing the button, allowing him to enter the building. After a few minutes a knock sounded at the front door and of course you opened it to reveal Gojo. He had his black circle sunglasses on.

"Oh uh come in." Stepping out of the way to let him enter. Gojo slipped off his shoes and made his was to the kitchen. You shut the door quickly and followed him. He was practically drooling over the cookies. "Did you want a glass of milk or something?"

He turned to you. "Yeah but don't worry I'll get it. You sit."

You nodded as you leaned against the counter while he munched down the cookies in front of you. "These are so good. You always make the best treats." He leaned against the opposite counter across from you.

You two were really only an arms length apart from each other. You could reach over and pull off his glasses without even moving too much. "I'm glad you like them."

Gojo picked up another one. "You want one?"

"Sure" You shrugged and moved to reach for it but he moved faster and held it to you lips. You took a soft and tentative bite out of it. His sunglasses covered anything his eyes would reveal. He moved it away for a moment before feeding you the rest of it, then leaning back and simply watching you.

He took a shuddering breath before standing straight. "Did you see that movie sequel that came out? We used to watch the first one all the time." He moved over to your living room and plopped himself on the couch. You followed behind him, sitting on the farthest side from him. "Yeah... I haven't had any way to watch it though."

He smiled boyishly. "I downloaded it." He took a few minutes plugging something into the tv, where he pulled it out of you were not sure.

You sat separately as the movie started. Gojo paused it and looked to you. "Do you want popcorn?"

"Uh, yeah sure" You got up to move, but he ushered you to stay put.

"No, no I got it. Don't worry." He sauntered off to the kitchen. I guess on the plus side he knew where everything was. After a few minutes he came back, a large bowl of popcorn in hand. He sat more in the middle of the couch now. The bowl taking up the only space remaining between. Gojo slipped off his glasses placing them on his head.

The movie resumed. Both of you slowly ate at the popcorn while watching. Your hands brushed periodically and it made your skin heat. Occasionally you snuck glances at him. His soft frosty locks, his white eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. You could just barely see the crystal blue of his eyes.

You looked away quickly before he could notice but at some points you could just barely see him turning to you in your peripheral and not turning back right away. Sure, he could be looking past you but you doubted it.

The popcorn had been devoured. It was one of your favourite snacks and you knew he knew that. He placed the empty bowl on the table and subtly moved closer to you. You pulled your legs up in front of you, your feet facing him.

Your toes brushed the side of his legs. Even that little bit of contact almost had you begging for him. Mentally you scolded yourself. Swiftly, he scooped his arm under your legs and stretched them across his lap. "You can stretch out, it's a long movie." Gojo looked to you, a soft smile playing on his lips. His blue eyes dipped to your lips, your neck before snapping back up and then returning to the movie.

You swallowed sharply before looking back to the tv. Was it hot in here? You felt hot.

Gojo settled his hands atop your legs and leaned more into the couch. His fingers playing with the fabric of your pants absentmindedly as he watched on. You shivered slightly at the touch. "You cold?"

Coughing to cover your stutter, "Oh uh yeah a little." Actually your body was on fire and your heart was racing but you didn't stop him from reaching over and grabbing the throw blanket that rested on the side of the couch. Gojo strategically threw it over you both. You thought this would give you more of a barrier between you to stop his incessant touching that you were not going to out right say no to.

However to your horror or your relief his hands stayed under the blanket and continued his movements. You could feel him testing how far you would let him go. His hand rubbed up and down your shins, massaging softly. Could he hear the pounding in your chest?

Slowly the area he occupied increased, his hand running up your thigh, squeezing after a random amount of strokes. Could he feel you squeeze your thighs together every time he did? You were fidgeting. Flexing and wriggling your feet. Your hands busily picked at your shirt under the blanket.

Gojo's hand slowed and stopped. You took in a deep breath. Maybe his torment had stopped but you hated that it did. He readjusted your legs to move from sitting by his knees, to right in his lap. One hand moved to rest just above your hip and the other stayed, making taunting circles on your thigh. You forgot you were staring when he turned and looked at you. "You okay?"

"Uhuh." Swallowing you turned back to the movie. A few minutes passed. His hand on the thigh kept making taunting delicious circles while the other slowly started to move back and fourth.

You hated this, how he broke your heart, acted like nothing happened and then came over here like he still had some sort of say over your body. What you hated more was that your body didn't hate it, that you couldn't stop him. You could feel the slickness collecting between your legs. The way your body begged for his touch.

The circles above your hip had started out on top of your shirt. At some point that you hadn't noticed his thumb had slipped underneath and was toying with the skin right above your waistband. You adjusted your legs, he halted for a moment letting you move. You brushed the need that had developed in his pants. His face pinched at the contact, his chest rising and falling heavily.

As you settled, Gojo returned to his current occupation. The movie still played, you didn't even know what was happening. You pulled your legs away and stood up. The blanket falling, your eyes catching his hardness but you quickly looked away. "I um just need some water. Would you like anything?"

He spread his arms along the back of the couch, not even remotely embarrassed of his length pushing through his pants. "No, I'm okay. Thank you." You nodded quickly and moved to the kitchen. He continued watching the movie.

Grabbing a glass and a straw, some ice and some cold water you sat back onto the couch. What had possessed you to sit right next to him, under his arm? He threw the blanket back over you, draping your legs over his, while the arm behind the couch wrapped around you and he slipped his hand into your waistband.

You could feel his fingers running up and down the skin of your hip, if he moved anymore to the side he would have a handful of your ass.

Shakily, you sipped on your water, the ice clinking grabbed his attention. Gojo's crystal blue eyes looked down on you and you hated the way it made your core tighten.

"Thirsty?" You held the straw towards him in offering. Watching as his mouth found the straw, sucking softly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. God, you have never wanted to be a straw so bad. What was wrong with you? He let it go, water droplets on his lips. "Thank you."

A shaky hand reached up and wiped the water from hip lip with your thumb. You hesitated right over his mouth. His lips parting, his warmth breath caressing your skin. Without hesitation he kissed the tip of your thumb, taking back the water droplets, the moisture wetting his already soft pink lips.

You let out a shuttering breath, his hands gripped you. One free hand grabbed your glass and set it on the table. You couldn't stop yourself from staring at his lips, against your better judgement your hands snakes around his neck, tangling your fingers into his white locks.

Gojo licked his lips, eyeing yours. "Can I kiss you princess?" Words failed you, so you settled for nodding your head. You wanted him bad. It was wrong but it didn't matter.

He hesitated at first then in record speed gripped the back of your head and pulled you into him. You couldn't even stay you didn't also pull him towards you. You clashed in a frenzy of lips, teeth and tongue.

Tugging at his hair caused delicious moans to leave his mouth and you swallowed them greedily. You nipped at his lip and he opened easily allowing you to slip your tongue past his lips. He pulled away for a breath. Both you of gasping, chests rising and falling rapidly. The way you had looked, eyes blown, hair a mess, lips puffy, must have triggered something primal in him. He latched onto your neck biting, nipping and sucking down to your collar bones and across. You knew he was leaving red angry marks but you had no intention of stopping him.

He couldn’t take it much longer. His hard throbbing length ground into you and it only made your core flare with need. Almost as if sensing it, Gojo picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and walking you to the bedroom. In that time it became a personal mission to leave just as many red marks on him as you were sure he left on you.

He deposited you on the bed, his glasses thrown to the side and his shirt discarded on the floor. Gojo grabbed you by the thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, slipping off your shorts and underwear in record timing.

"Wait, Toru I-" He stopped and looked up as you sat up and moved away a bit. A wave of disappointment crossed his face. "Do you not want to?"

"No, I do I just.." He grabbed you again, pulling you back down. "Then lay down baby and let me taste you yeah?"

His kissed up the inside of your thighs, nipping and sucking as he went. Small gasps left you lips and you looked down to see him already watching you. As he approached your center, you both stared at each other. His tongue licked a slow strip. "Mmmm... I missed the way you tasted. So sweet." You could not control the soft moans that left you lips as he slowed licked and sucked your clit. You writhed under him, to stop you from moving away he wrapped an arm around your waist, gripping your thighs.

With his other hand, he teased a finger along your opening. "You're so wet for me baby, fuck." Whining you gripped his locks, pulling his face back towards you. Gojo chuckled at your neediness. His long index finger slowly pushed into you as he sucked harshly on your clit.

"Toru, i- fuck" Your breaths were heavy as your chest heaved. His movements continued, his pace increased as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. "Toru, I'm so close, I- I can't-"

"Come for me princess, I wanna taste you, it's okay baby" Gojo continued his assault as he pulled you over the edge and let you ride his face as you rode out your high. Your body relaxed, eyes closed as his touch disappeared. You were too strung out to even really think.

He moved around the room but you didn't pay attention to him. You were so relaxed now you could have slept. Probably better than you had since he had left.

Satoru grabbed the back of your head and pulled you up to your knees on the edge of the bed. His cock on your lips, pre cum dripping out as you took him in. "Ugh fuck baby" His hand on the back of your head encouraged your movements as his length hit the back of your throat.

He did not give you time in between thrusts, relentlessly fucking your face until you were a drooling mess upon him.

Gojo pulled out with a pop and leaned down to bring his face to your level. "You look so good with my cock in your mouth princess. Did you miss my cock?" You couldn't say much, your brain clearly was not working so you nodded at him. His blue eyes were wide with desire as he smashed his lips against yours and pulled away abruptly.

"Turn around. I want to fuck you from behind. I love the way you look when I'm deep inside you from this angle." With slow movements you turned around, he grabbed your thighs to pull your knees right to the edge. Your reflection in the mirror on the other side of the room stared back at you.

His cock caressed your folds as he pressed down on your back making you arch into position. "Look at me." Your eyes snapped to his in the mirror. Slowly he pushed into you. Groaning as he did. Holding still once he was fully seated.

"Fuck~ you're so wet, your pussy is gripping my dick so hard it almost hurts. I can tell you missed me inside you." Both of you shuddered as he slowly pulled out to the tip and slammed back in.

Your nails dug into the blanket, soft moans leaving you both as his paced increased. One hand gripping your hip and the other pushing you down, keeping you in position as he slammed into you relentlessly. "I'm going to come baby, you feel too good I can't stop..."

His thrusts became stuttered as he pushed into you with one last thrust. Bending over you as you both panted heavily. Gojo kissed along your shoulder, across your back and down your other shoulder while still being seated inside of you. After a few moments he reached for the towel and set it underneath you, wincing as he pulled out and left you in a pool of your own mess while he cleaned himself off.

Your brain was still jumbled as your sat on the towel, before you even could come to your senses he was already dressed. His white locks a sweaty mess upon his head, his black sunglasses covering his eyes.

"Oh, you're leaving?" You couldn't stop the disappointment from entangling with your voice.

"Uh... yeah. I can't stay so." Gojo kissed the top of your head and went for the bedroom door. "I'm free later in the week. We can hang out again if you like. I'll text you." Before you could usher a response he left, closing the door behind him.

Tears welled and fell and quiet whimpers turned into full sobs as you sat in the mess of the both of you. You hated yourself for giving into him, for letting him touch you and be inside you again but what you hated more was that you knew he would be over again and you knew you couldn't bring yourself to say no.

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