#i took my mom to go see it and she loved it and is now a hardcore gelphie stan

[charmed-asylum]

Girl u taking words out my hod damn mouth huh girl mmm u and I can do a pod cast w way this chapter went. Side note honey boo boo I know the feeling girl it be hard af you wanna just read your stories but got a 15 page paper due by Monday on some boring ass philosophy topic. ( and my ass planning on going to get my doctrine) 🤧😪🤧😪🤧😪🤧😪🤧😪🤧

Honestly idk who I’m more mad at. The father or Ward. “ No one ever took you seriously anyway” Is Rafe really even the dark one ( on fence but he sure as hell a manipulative perk) if you got both a father who okay you might think your doing the right thing which in all turn for you to be a fuckin cop out and wait til your dead dirt still freshly laid to do this to your legacy to your blood to your daughter or Ward who can’t put any respect to it simple more emotions what if this was Sarah or W who had this happen to you but no no u don’t. I love that while it’s stats: dark!grey!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, the reader didn’t seem to bimbo in 1st part.. in all it’s just not the right time for this but damn u make us so invested into this story. Like” Three bedrooms, a wrap-around porch where you’d once dreamed of watching your children play in the yard as you rocked in your chair, and the old, red barn that had weathered time alongside them” so sad because maybe she can have this with Rafe but but it’s not gonna be the same because of a man selfish and lack of respect for a woman or another then themselves it gonna be twist with a sour tastes Ward lit came in busing in like he own it like shit bring a grief counselor or something, You knew you couldn’t lose it, but you weren’t sure how to keep it either. This statement kept repeating its self over and over again. She said it he said I’m sure as hell know dad thought it but is it true sorry but what can Ward or even Rafe know about the land compare to over . ( let me stop my podcast on this one part alone lol) I do want to ask she talks about her mom a lot how long was she alive before he died to have so much confidence on the dad and men oh they can’t be bad daddy care about me and mommy this or that honey your dad was a man 1st dead beat on the horizon second. Shit she could have stay at college hello or something.

“Why do you think he sent me?” He smiled devishly, “I’m the one you gotta worry about, darlin’.” 

That got me in a chock hold like man again for a bimbo reader she got to much smarts on her to be a true bimbo but I gotta say trying to escape to a shack and getting bored and coming back with a daisy crown and a bundle of flowers hehe.

“I didn’t forget your horse,” He spoke calmer than you expected, though his tone still had an edge to it, “She’ll follow. Unlike you, she seems to have a decent amount of common sense…This wasn’t the escape you wanted. Not even close

What a piece of shit huh

I wonder if this was first time he saw her when he was following her: And maybe that was true in some ways, but you were more than he had anticipated. He followed you, watched as you handled the horse with ease, and found himself intrigued. Your confusion, innocence, even your stubbornness drew him in like a moth to a flame. Also so you telling me he waited til she got bored went pick a bunch of flowers and made a crown til he decide to say something lol I also do wonder why this like Rafe said this is like a slap in face with a fish deal for him or this a test also I’m worried when he said this : But perhaps his father had seen exactly what Rafe was seeing now. You were raw, so unpolished, and that meant you could be shaped. 

In all he stated he how power and this idea of to be shaped idk even if he does manipulate her she obviously has more common sense then they think does she do it right mostly no but I hope and feel won’t be so easy. But I can see away he can get to her way Ward is with him. No lie he play his shitty hand right she might give him a pass or two. —> Proving himself to Ward was a constant battle, every choice scrutinized, every misstep noted. To run the ranch one day, Rafe needed to show he could manage it all, the land, business, and now a wife. Building a home and keeping you in line was just another test.

Okay so John B works for the ranch oooo ooo ooo. Idk but I’m thrilled about this. Also can u imagine the fit he had lol

Also is he upset this was more worried about the horse then him or she talk to John B in general: Rafe only glared at the worker, jaw tight. 

What a perv: Please, that made Rafe brow furrow. Rafe took the opportunity to cop a feel, of course, he had to know exactly what he was working with. You were his future wife, after all, “Rafe! I don’t like being upside down!” idk I feel he so all over the place you mad but 1st chance you get to touch her u do . You get mad she talking to a boy and mostly what he call having brat behavior

Huh that whole car scene had me crying and throwing a fit huh huh huh I think W gonna be her new bestie and a reminder for Rafe. Fuckin manipulated the fuck out of Herve this shit mmm mm mmmmmm !!!

“To your room,” He spoke low and firm. There hadn’t been any rough grabbing of your limbs or unwanted rides on Rafe’s shoulder since your kiss in the car. You hadn’t fully let you guard down but you preferred when Rafe was calm, and so you remained calm too, “You can settle in.” Because it’s after that and the other moments yeah he still him but idk more he gonna be w her I think it’s gonna see it change to a different vibe.

Also u know he love playing w her and with this proud love for her daddy girl u about to get a whole new daddy girllllll : Whiskey and mint, “You always did what your Daddy said, right?” 

Hate me but that talk about wild horse idk idk but huh i feel hear me out that a threat andddddddd a challenge and maybe ( smack lips) him saying he turn on.

Damn damn damn I hate it bc lets be real we know as rafe drew lovers that he soooooooo bad so bad so naughty so huh all these things and still like a sour candy we go for another huh ( dramatic fall to a chair) damn damn damn that oh u want another kiss we’ll get doll up for me shit smh he gonna do that to her and it was her 1st man o man let him realize that shit. He gonna be baby oil in his hand with lighted candle and some RB music in background fuckin ready . We screw we screws.

You stared, dumbfounded and frozen until the young rancher casually turned and walked out of the room. Your fists clenched at your sides as a storm of emotions swirled inside you, anger and fear. One emotion simmered quietly beneath the surface, unwelcome and disorienting. Anticipation.

rough hands, soft chains [1] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!grey!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, future smut, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: This is an au I'm trying out where Kildare County is actually in Montana and all the pogues and kooks exist within a ranching community. Hope you enjoy!! I would really appreciate feedback, reblogs are most appreciated!

In which your dying father struck a deal with Ward Cameron, he promised the family land in exchange for your safety. But protection comes with a price, and that price is Rafe Cameron.

word count: 5k

rafe cameron masterlist

After the funeral, you flopped down on the old leather couch in your living room, absently twirling a lock of your hair as you stared up at the cracked ceiling. Your black dress, meant for the sweltering summers, fell just below your knees. You’d paired it with a shawl you found tucked away in your mother’s dresser, a pretty, soft thing with little patterns you didn’t understand, but it smelled like her, so it felt right.

People at the funeral said you looked “so grown up” now, which filled you with a sense of pride. They said nothing about the dirt under your nails from wandering around the yard barefoot earlier that morning or the way your mascara smeared from crying too much. No one ever took you seriously anyway. 

The quiet of the house was deafening, pressing in at you at all sides. The lack of his presence weighed on you. He’d built every corner of this house, your mother painted every wall, and you were grateful for the life they’d built you. Three bedrooms, a wrap-around porch where you’d once dreamed of watching your children play in the yard as you rocked in your chair, and the old, red barn that had weathered time alongside them. You knew you couldn’t lose it, but you weren’t sure how to keep it either.

A loud knock at the front door made the house shake and snapped you from your daze. It was not the knock of a kind neigbor delivering a sympathy caserole, the knock was firm and authoritative. You half expected the sheriff to be behind the door but instead found yourself staring back at Ward Cameron. 

You pushed back the curls that had fallen into your face. He stood before you, tipping his finest black cattleman hat with deliberate grace, lifting it from his head and placing it over his chest in a quiet gesture of respect. His square jawline was sharp, his striking blue eyes unflinching, and though the gray streaks in his hair hinted at age, they only added to his rugged handomenss. 

“Miss,” he greeted you smoothly, his voice as sharp as the crease in his shirt. He looked out of place here, too clean, too polished for the worn edges of your family’s ranch.

Your anxiety peaked, “Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You gripped the handle of the door tighter than you expected. 

“I think you know why I’m here.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s time we talked about your father’s arrangements.”

Arrangements? You shifted nervously, trying to make sense of his words. You knew your dad had debts, but it wasn’t like he told you all the details. You knew that a significant amount of your father’s debt was to Ward. It humiliated your father to lease the Cameron’s grazing rights but he only did it to keep the ranch afloat. Money and paperwork were never your thing, and your dad always said not to worry about it. “I—I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. I’ll figure out how to pay you back, okay?”

Although Ward wasn’t the tallest man, most people towered over you, and as he leaned in the doorway, you knew he had your stature in mind. 

Still, his smile was empty, “Why don’t we discuss this in your father’s office, hmm?” 

“Um, no thanks,” you said quickly, shaking your head. But before you could shut the door, his hand pushed it open with way too much ease. You stumbled back, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as he walked in like he owned the place.

“Excuse me! You can’t just barge in here!” you squeaked, hurrying after him, his expensive boots, tapping against the creaking floor of your home. 

He made his way down the downstairs hallway, barging into the room that not even your father wanted you to step in. Immediately as you stepping inside, a coldness touched you. he heavy oak desk sat like a monument to your father’s stubbornness, papers scattered across its surface in disarray. Just looking at it made your brain feel fuzzy. Ward moved behind it as if it were his own, his hands brushing against the chair’s worn leather.

“I offered to come speak to you, before all of this drama, but your father insisted I wait until he was gone,” Ward gestured to rickety chair that sat in front of the desk, “Sit.”

You ignored him, crossing your arms in stubborness, “What are you talking about?”

“Do you know how much exactly your father owes me? How much you’d be taking on?”

His words, like they had certainly intended to, made you feel stupid. Your father made sure you were uninvolved in the ranch’s finances and he had just passed this week, you hadn’t thought about entering his office and disturbing his things. 

You blinked, your mouth opening and closing. “Well… um… I know he owed some money, but he didn’t really tell me how much.”

“It’s more than the farm is worth, Y/N.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between you, thickening the already suffocating air in the room. You clenched your jaw, refusing to show any sign of the panic tightening in your chest. The farm, your father’s legacy, your mother’s dreams, was supposed to be yours to save.

“That can’t be right,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “My father would’ve told me if it was that bad.”

“Would he? It’s nothing you should’ve worried your pretty head about,” Ward continued, his eyes sharp and assessing, “We parents try to protect our children. But he was too prideful. Pride doesn’t pay the bills and banks don’t wait forever.”

“The bank–”

“The bank would’ve taken the entire property if your father hadn’t already signed the land over to me.”

Your heart sunk into your stomach at Ward Cameron’s words. Your breath hitched as you stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said. You shook your head in disbelief, “He wouldn’t do that.”

The land was the only piece of your father that you had left. A hundred acres that your family and only a few ranch hands tended to.There were dwindling amounts of livestock, mounting debts, but it was your home. Humble in comparison to the Cameron’s thousands of acres but it belonged to your family. Even if you were the only one left. 

“This all would’ve been easier for you if your father had explained all of this to you before. I think he was scared of you hating him.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ward’s expression didn’t falter. If anything, he looked almost bored with your responses, “We came to an agreement a year after his initial diagnosis. Instead of losing it to the bank, he would sign it over to me.”

“I promised to take care of you.” Ward’s words were slow, deliberate, as if he were explaining something to a child. “You’re unmarried, no prospects, and this place is a sinking ship. Someone was bound to take advantage of you eventually. You don’t have the resources to rebuild.”

“T-take care of me?” you stammered, your face scrunching in confusion.

“You’ll come live with my family for the time being. And eventually you will marry my son, Rafe.”

Your eyes went wild, “Are you crazy?”

Ward’s expression didn’t change. If anything, he looked even more smug. “This arrangement keeps the land in the family, ensures your safety, and gives you a future. You’re not equipped to handle this ranch on your own, Y/N. Your father knew that. I’m offering you a way out.”

You gaped at him, your thoughts spinning too fast to make sense of anything. “I… I want to talk to a lawyer or—or see his will or something!”

“You’re out of options. It’s either this arrangement or being out on the streets. I’m tossing you a lifeline.” 

 “I didn’t agree to this,” you said, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“No,” Ward admitted, standing and adjusting his cuffs. “But your father did. And a Cameron always honors their agreements.”

You wanted to scream, to tell him to leave and take his deal with him, but the weight of your father’s decisions pressed down on you. The debts, the ranch, your future—it was all tangled up in a web you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll give you until tomorrow to pack your things,” Ward said, placing his hat back on his head. “Rafe will come by to collect you.”

He turned and walked to the door without another word, leaving you standing alone in the office. The walls seemed to close in around you, and although you’d be crying for a week, you cried again. 

You thought that if you weren’t at the house when Ward’s oldest son came to collect you, they might just give up and leave you be. Maybe you’d slip through the cracks of their plans, vanish into the quiet of the countryside. You could disappear for a little while and return in a few days. It would be rough surviving outside but you could make it on your own. You’d packed a small bag of essentials and took Juliet, the chestnut-colored mare that had belonged to you since your fourteenth birthday.

“Okay, Jules, we’re gonna go on a little adventure,” you whispered as you fumbled with her saddle. 

Her large, liquid-brown eyes blinked at you with trust as you led her down the south path, the one behind your family’s ranch, overgrown from years of neglect. You left before the sun had a chance to rise. You didn’t want Ward Cameron or his scary son to find you, after all.

You tried to dress for comfort. Your long jeans would keep you warm, and you layered a jean jacket over a soft white cotton shirt. Perched atop your head was your trusty white cowboy hat, its wide brim offering protection from the sun, taming your unruly curls, while keeping your face shielded.

Juliet made a snorting sound, and you patted her neck. “Don’t worry, girl, we’ve totally got this. Like, what’s the worst that could happen?” You glanced back at the ranch, its dark outline fading behind the trees. 

You mounted Juliet after deciding the direction you were going to travel in. You wanted to be much farther away by the time the sun came up. The air was cool and crisp, a reminder of the coming morning. You looked behind you although you were sure no one was following you yet. 

The path twisted and turned. “Okay, so if we head toward the old fishing shack by the river, we can stay there for, like, a day. Nobody’s used it in forever.” You spoke out loud, pretending that Juliet could respond. “I think it’s... that way.”

You continued down the path in the direction you remembered the fishing shack to be located. The sun rose slowly, bringing light to the dark path. The shack was tucked away on the outskirts of the ranch, sitting in the bend of the river, most of it shielded by tall grass. The water flowed gently, the sound caressing your ears, it’s hues reflecting the red in the sky. 

A clearing sat nearby covered in wildflowers, the bright colors splashed against the muted landscape. You hadn’t ventured this far out since the previous spring and were surprised to see how the flowers had held their vibrancy, defying the chill of the cooler months. 

You hopped down from your saddle, taking Juliet’s rein before you tied her to a nearby tree, allowing her room to graze. The shack was small and weathered, and you rested on a rickety cot that you had to clear of cobwebs. It felt safe. At least for now. 

If only staying still was your strong suit. A few hours later, boredom quickly got the best of you. You could only talk to Juliet for so long and you’d failed several times to nap inside the dirty shack. The silence pressed in on you. You decided to wander out into the wild flower fields, tugging your cowboy hat low over your curls. The vibrant colors were calling to you. 

An hour later, you held a thick bundle flowers in your arm and a crown of daisies wrapped around your hat. Before you knew it, the shack was almost out of your sight and you faced a long trek back to Juliet. 

You didn’t hear him at first.

“Hell of a hiding spot.”

The deep drawl froze you in place. Slowly, you turned, heart pounding, your eyes landing on Rafe Cameron sitting tall on his horse a few yards away. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, though the tight line of his jaw hinted at something darker.

Rafe’s quarter horse was even more intimidating. It’s coat was midnight black, sleek and imposing. There was a wild, untamed quality to him, a fire in his eyes that mirrored Rafe’s own.

“I… I was just…” You stepped back without thinking, the urge to drop your bouquet and bolt creeping up. You’d seen Ward’s son from across a room before, but no one had ever bothered to introduce you. Still, you knew enough from the whispers and rumors. He was wild, always getting into trouble with the Kildare County police, and everyone said he was gonna take over his dad’s power and influence one day. 

He was older than you remembered, more rugged, and definitely more muscular. His black button-up shirt clung to broad shoulder and his sleeves rolled up to reveal sculpted arms. A baseball cap sat atop his head, the bill slightly bent, with the Cameron Ranch sigil stitched on the front—an emblem of a stallion rearing. His light brown hair peeked from beneath it, slightly tousled. 

“You’ve been wandering around all morning. Half the town’s already seen you,” Rafe leaned forward slightly, eyeing you curiously, “If you were gonna run, thought you’d go a little bit farther.” You gained the courage to finish your sentence, “I wasn’t running …or hiding. And you can’t tell Mr. Cameron that.”

“Why do you think he sent me?” He smiled devishly, “I’m the one you gotta worry about, darlin’.” 

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe watched you take another step back. His jaw clicked before he swiftly hopped down from his horse. His heavy boots hit the dirt with a thud that seemed to echo, and you couldn’t help but notice the sheer size of him. Though he wasn’t much older than you, it was clear he towered over you, his presence demanding attention in a way that made your knees feel weak.

“I’m not coming with you,” You stated with all the strength you could muster, “It’s not right. You can’t make me.”

He stared back at you. Where Ward was bored by conversation with you, something about your Ward’s made Rafe’s eyes fiery, “And I guess you’ll make your living by what … selling flower crowns?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. You hadn’t considered that an option. In fact, you hadn’t dwelled long enough on what you would do once Ward gave up on this arranged marriage nor did you have any idea of how to make the ranch profitable again. The idea seemed wrong. Flowers weren’t the key, were they? 

“I’m kidding,” Rafe spoke again after a moment of watching you reflect, “That’s a bad fucking idea. You know…I think your father might’ve been right about one thing in his life. You do need someone to look after you.” 

“You don’t know me,” You looked away, your face heating up with embarrassment, “And I don’t want to go with you.” 

A yelp escaped your lips as he started to close the distance between you, his long strides closing the gap in a matter of seconds. His smirk widened at your reaction, and quickly, you dropped your bouquet and made a run for the fishing shack. Rough hands easily snatched you up by your waist, lifting your feet off the ground, and making your head spin, “You’re real cute, darlin’,” Rafe drawled, hardly breakin a sweat as he dragged you back towards his horse. His grip on your waist was firm, unrelenting, and no matter how much you kicked or squirmed, it didn’t matter. He only hoisted you higher. 

Heavy boots crunched against the dirt. You could hear your breathing and the sharp pounding of your heart in your ears. You lost your hat and subsequently your flower crown in the struggle. Scared that you might spook Rafe’s horse, you found yourself succumbing to his force, letting him lift you onto the saddle. 

“Please, let me down,” You whispered, tears beginning to fall. Rafe was next, hoisting himself onto the black stallion, squeezing himself behind you. You were pressed against him so much that you could feel the flexing of the muscles of his stomach. An arm wrapped tightly around your waist. 

Rafe shushed you, and surprisingly, you felt him settle your hat back on your head. You hadn’t even seen him pick it up. You were never supposed to ride without a hat, that’s what your father had taught you. You barely had time to process it before he urged the horse forward, the powerful animal's hooves pounding the earth beneath you as Rafe held you tightly, “M-My horse, Juliet!” You remembered, panicked, “I won’t go without her, Rafe!”

“I didn’t forget your horse,” He spoke calmer than you expected, though his tone still had an edge to it, “She’ll follow. Unlike you, she seems to have a decent amount of common sense.” 

He kicked the horse into a gallop, the powerful animal responding instantly, the sound of its hooves hitting the ground like thunder in the otherwise still air. The wind whipped through your hair, stinging your face. You gripped the saddle tightly, to anchor yourself, despite knowing that Rafe’s grip was strong enough to keep you from flying. 

This wasn’t the escape you wanted. Not even close. 

Sure, he’d heard the rumors that you were a little …daft. And maybe that was true in some ways, but you were more than he had anticipated. He followed you, watched as you handled the horse with ease, and found himself intrigued. Your confusion, innocence, even your stubbornness drew him in like a moth to a flame. 

The last thing Rafe wanted was a wife. He resisted the way his father felt like he could stll make decisions for him. Rafe was losing with this arrangement. Your father’s hundred acres was nothing in comparison to what he family already had and would acquire. But perhaps his father had seen exactly what Rafe was seeing now. You were raw, so unpolished, and that meant you could be shaped. 

Once you were under the Cameron’s roof, Rafe had the power to do whatever he wanted. 

Proving himself to Ward was a constant battle, every choice scrutinized, every misstep noted. To run the ranch one day, Rafe needed to show he could manage it all, the land, business, and now a wife. Building a home and keeping you in line was just another test.

That morning, Rafe had never expected to chase after you on horseback. He had arrived in his truck, scouring the house for any sign of you, only to realize you were already gone. In frustration, he called John B., one of the Cameron ranch hands, and sent him to bring Trigger, his horse, to the Y/L/N ranch.

When you both returned, John B. was already there, waiting. Thunder cracked above, a sunny morning turning into a dreary afternoon. Rafe barked orders to ensure Juliet and Trigger were both stabled at the Cameron’s ranch.

He lifted you down from the saddle, his grip firm on your wrists before you could bolt. It only took a second for him to realize the urgency in your voice as you spoke, trying to talk to John B., who was already taking Juliet and Trigger’s reins. “She gets nervous when she’s in new places. She doesn’t like to be rushed,” Rafe overheard, catching the panic in your tone.

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow with her,” John B. assured her although Rafe only glared at the worker, jaw tight. 

“Come on,” Rafe pulled your arm, “We’re leaving.”

Your small hands grabbed where he’d wrapped his hands around your arm. You dug your boots into the gravel in front of the house, “Wait, I don’t have everything. I-I need to grab some things,” Rafe’s gripped only tightened as his irritation grew. 

“You should’ve thought about that before you made me chase after you,” He took one more look at your teary-face before he snapped. Taking you home should’ve taken thirty minutes, not four hours. Without warning, he scooped you up over his shoulder, ignoring the surprised gasp you let out. 

Your legs kicked in the air, “Hey! Please put me down!” Rafe didn’t spare your house on John B. a second glance as he trudged over to his dark, blue truck. Please, that made Rafe brow furrow. Rafe took the opportunity to cop a feel, of course, he had to know exactly what he was working with. You were his future wife, after all, “Rafe! I don’t like being upside down!” 

“Scream all the way there for all I fucking care,” He muttered under his breath, his voice cold as he finally reached the truck and tossed you into the passenger seat.

Rafe sped off moments after he pressed start engine on the vehicle. You went quiet and he hoped to be alone with his thoughts, soothed by the soft pitter patter of rain on his windshield. Fifteen minutes down the road, he heard your breath hitch. He looked over to see you were staring straight head, eyes wide and wet with tears. Smudged mascara beneath your eyes. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and you clutched your hands tightly in your lap. Your lips were shaking, moving as if you were whispering something to yourself. 

Your legs began to jitter, restless, and Rafe looked away. He managed to tune out your obvious panic for nearly an entire minute. He had a rare feeling. One he didn’t fully understanding. The angel on his shoulder was telling him to reach out, to try and comfort you. He thought about what Wheezie might think if this was the disheveled state he brought his future wife to meet her in. He let out a quiet sigh, knowing it was only going to get worse as the reality of your situation set in.

“Hey,” He spoke without that sharp edge, channeling a voice he might use with his youngest sister, “I didn’t mean you’d never get your things. We can come back, when you’re more settled …And I’ll send someone to get all your keepsakes. Okay?” 

“Okay, okay, okay,” You repeated though your voice sounded empty, “Okay.”

He thought those would be the magic words but you hadn’t even turned to look at him. You were doing the same thing, shaking like a leaf, barely taking in enough breath, “Fuck,” Rafe cursed. He pulled over to the side of the road with a sharp jerk, the gravel crunching under the tires as the truck slowed to a stop. Without thinking, he shifted into park and turned to you.

Rafe needed to be more deliberate in his actions. He had eyes on him, his entire immediate family, and he wouldn’t have them thinking he couldn’t handle you. 

He tried to calm you, squeezed your hand, told you to breathe over and over again. Nothing. You were spiraling, letting your thoughts consume you. Rafe had been too rough. It was all too much too fast for you. He wanted to mold you, not break you. 

He leaned in, taking your face in his hands, and pressing his lips to yours. You went frantic but he only deepened the kiss. He held your hand and slowly felt your tension lesson. He entwined his fingers in yours and slowly felt you move your own lips against his. You tasted like cherries, dark red, and perfectly ripe. His hands moved to the back of your neck, his fingers pressing lightly, urging you to focus, to let go of the panic.

He pulled away only when you stopped your heaving. 

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’re okay now. Breathe with me.”

He waited for you to come back to him, cradling you there. You had no one left, Rafe realized in that moment, the truth settling heavily in his chest. And maybe that was why he couldn’t bring himself to be cruel. 

No, taking care of you wasn’t just an obligation, it was an important responsibility. One he’d shoulder completely. Whether you liked it or not, Rafe would make sure of it.

Rafe Cameron tasted like whiskey, with a faint hint of mint that lingered now even as you stood in the foyer of your new home, Tannyhill Ranch. The white house was sprawling and pristine, situated amidst of sea of green fields. Windows sparkled even in the storm that was coming down, and although the roof’s shingles were weathered, it was hard to believe the property had been there for more than a century. 

Workers, chefs and maids, bustled by but no one spared you or Rafe a glance despite the dry tears on your face and disheveled appearance. 

The interior was grand, the hardwoods polished until they shined, and the ceilings were higher than the ones at church. Everything screamed old money. You felt a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the grand entrance hall and then up one side of a grand staircase. Portraits line the walls, serious faces, Camerons and previous owners of the estate. 

Their eyes watched you, “Rafe, where are we going?” You asked him quietly. 

“To your room,” He spoke low and firm. There hadn’t been any rough grabbing of your limbs or unwanted rides on Rafe’s shoulder since your kiss in the car. You hadn’t fully let you guard down but you preferred when Rafe was calm, and so you remained calm too, “You can settle in.”

Rafe led you down the upstairs hallway, stopping at one of at least six bedroom doors, and pushing it open. The room was breathtaking, a four-poster bed draaped in white linens, oak furniture, blue-white toile patterns, and large windows that overlooked the property. It was beautiful, yes, but none of this belonged to you. 

Your fingers absentmidnely traced the fabric of the bed’s comforter before you got a grip, turning around to say something in protest, “Don’t look at me like that,” Rafe interrupted, hands tucking into the front of jeans as if to give off a non-chalant appearance. The position emphasized the silvery belt buckle that sat on the middle of his waist. 

“I don’t want to live here,” You spoke softly, your voice still weak from all the crying. 

“I know,” Rafe continued, sounding exactly like his father, “Your father did though. You still love your Daddy, don’t you?” 

Rafe’s words made you think. Really think. Of course you loved your father. He was a smart man and he always did right by you and your Mother. However, deep down, this all still felt wrong. You stood there, caught between the beauty of the room and the unease of what you felt.

You nodded, “But–”

“But this is what he wanted, darlin’,” Rafe spoke in a way that carried a sense of finality. Rafe stepped closer and suddenly his body was a brick wall keeping you from leaving the room. His lips pulled into a smirk and he leaned down to speak in your ear, his breath fanning over your cheeks. Whiskey and mint, “You always did what your Daddy said, right?” 

“Yes,” You answered too honestly for your own good. 

“Now you’ll do what I say. That’s how it works. A young lady belongs to her father, and one day, after she grows up, she belongs to her husband,” He straightened up and you blinked your big eyes up at him. Slowly, your eyes traveled down to his lips, “You’ll thank me, one day.” 

Gently, he tucked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it even higher. You held your head exactly in the place he placed it, making something flicker in Rafe’s eyes. A heat bloomed in your core. You could only think about that kiss, your first one, despite the fact that he was one of the men completely ruining your life. 

“You ever seen someone break a wild horse?” 

His question caught you off guard, and your brows furrowed slightly as you searched his face for meaning. The smirk on his lips deepened, and his hand dropped from your chin.

“Takes patience. Takes strength. Takes knowing exactly when to push and when to pull back. But eventually, the horse figures out who’s in charge.” His blue eyes darkened, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place, ”Out on the ranch, when we get a wild one. It’s my favorite thing to do. Watch em’ go from fighting you to starting to trust you. Really, there’s no point in fighting. The one’s who don’t submit, we don’t keep em’ around. They’re dangerous.”

“Oh,” You managed to say, shifting uncomfortably, “That sounds … hard.” 

Rafe chuckled in response, “Hard? Yeah, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Rafe’s smirk returned, sharper now, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You want me to kiss you again. I can tell.”

His words sent you stammering immediately, “No!” 

“Tell you what,” Rafe interrupted smoothly, ignoring your denial as if it hadn’t even registered. “If you settle in, get all dolled up for dinner…” His voice dripped with false generosity. “I’ll give you another one.”

You stared, dumbfounded and frozen until the young rancher casually turned and walked out of the room. Your fists clenched at your sides as a storm of emotions swirled inside you, anger and fear. One emotion simmered quietly beneath the surface, unwelcome and disorienting. Anticipation.

Reblog and let me know your thoughts to be added to the taglist!

[iwantazzifudd]

Under the Stars

Word count : 4.6k Pazzi

Hii friends this is a young Pazzi one shot, I’m not sure if I like it but it took me so long so I just wanted to finally get it out there, enjoy 😚

Paige and Azzi had spent almost everyday this summer together trying their hardest to ignore the day Paige finally had to leave to go to college.

It was officially only 2 weeks until Paige had to go and Azzi was determined to make them special. So she planned a surprise for the two of them with the help of her mom Katie

“Are you sure she’ll like it mom” Azzi bit her lip nervously “Of course she will honey, honestly I think she’ll love anything as long as your there” “Moom” she couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up her neck. Her mom just put her hands up, feigning innocence.

…

Paige was disappointed to wake up in Azzi’s bed with no sight of the curly haired girl. She got so used to waking up with the warmth of Azzi cuddled into her, their legs tangled together.

That was something she was going to miss more than anything, simply waking up next to her best friend could be the highlight of her day. God she was really gone for the girl. Loving Azzi was so easy. Being in love with Azzi and not shouting it from the rooftops was a million times harder.

Paige just hoped that one day she’d have the courage to tell her but now was not the time. She couldn’t risk things with Azzi changing right when she was about to move. What if Azzi didn’t feel the same and things became awkward? Paige couldn’t even handle that thought. So she decided that it would be best to just keep it inside until the perfect moment came.

She checked her phone to see a few messages sent by the curly head girl

Az💗: good morning p 🤗

I’ll be home soon but in the meantime I’ve got an outfit on my dresser picked out for you

Be ready 😉

Paige ran her hands through her hair suddenly nervous and shot her a text back and headed to the shower.

…

“Paigey?” Asked Azzi as she entered the room wondering where the blonde was. Then, Paige suddenly came out of the bathroom not in the outfit Azzi had picked out but wrapped in a towel with her hair dripping on the floor. Azzi let her gaze linger on Paige’s wet skin for a beat too long and both girls flushed.

“Hi sorry” Azzi adverted her eyes now trying her best to look everywhere but at the girl across from her

Paige on the other hand, let her self take in Azzi looking her fully up and down. “Wow Az you look great” Azzi had made sure to put on a little bit of makeup today. Attempting to what, impress Paige? She felt crazy. “Thank you” she gave the blonde a flirty smile. Paige’s tongue ran over her bottom lip and suddenly there was tension in the room. Azzi just looked in amusement at the girl's flustered face, and she tossed her her clothes.

“You didn’t think I was capable of picking shorts and a t-shirt?” Paige teased

“No dummy, I just wanted us to match, now hurry up!! We don’t have all day” the brunette rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help the smile on her face as she left to let paige get dressed. Azzi was wearing a sporty black tennis skirt and a blue tank top, a bit different from her usual lazy summer attire, and for Paige she picked out the opposite blue shorts, and a black tee.

Today was the day she was finally going to tell Paige how she felt. And she was terrified. At first she decided she’d never do it, and that they were great as best friends but at some point this summer she realized that that wasn’t enough for her. She knew she’d regret saying nothing for the rest of her life and a spark of bravery hit her the other night. So she let that and some hope that Paige felt the same guide her to todays plan.

I mean the idea of Paige reciprocating wasn’t impossible, they’d always been closer than regular best friends. From that first fateful plane ride Azzi knew she was hooked, and as they spent more time together she couldn’t ignore the flutter in her chest when their hands brushed together or the fact that she loved just being around her. Was Paige a pain in the ass? Definitely. But that was just another thing for Azzi to fall in love with.

Today will be perfect, she thought, packed with activities. It had been a little since they had actually gone out of the house to do something more than play basketball or get food, so this would be much needed time out. Besides planning, Azzi spent the rest of her morning telling herself that even if Paige didn’t feel the same, nothing between them had to change. Even though the thought of that scared her more than she expected. She was done spending endless nights worrying about it and doing nothing. Today would be her moment.

…

The girls started their usual mornings with a nice breakfast and a workout, but today Azzi had other plans. Paige had been begging her to go on a hike all summer but Azzi had always made excuses against it. Whether it was her knee “acting up” or the long drive she just never wanted to say yes, and Paige would just accept which made the curly haired girl feel worse for lying.

It wasn’t that she was scared of heights per se, she was just constantly worried about slipping or a little more irrationally, taking a tumble off of the mountain. But she couldn’t deny that the site would be beautiful. She even had her mom hike up there by herself this morning to set up a picnic blanket, a cooler and food for the girls to enjoy, while she finished up making their plans for that evening happen.

Was she still scared? Definitely. But she knew that she’d feel safe either way with Paige by her side. And this would be a great start to lead into Azzi’s plan. Paige would be thrilled, and Azzi would be… alive at least.

“Can you guess where we’re going?” Azzi asked unable to contain the smile on her face.

“Uh the gym”

“That was such a bad guess p why would the gym be extra special” she rolled her eyes at the girls non creative guess.

“Just be prepared for the drive” Azzi was glowing with excitement and hated having to be patient.

“No way” the blonde gasped connecting the dots, she was like a puppy jumping up and down, unable to contain her joy.

“Uh huh now get in the car” the brunette rolled her eyes and teased.

…

The hike was a little over an hour and a half away, and the girls filled it with effortless chatter, enjoying the beautiful scenery along the way. Azzi felt a twinge in her knee and the clouds above seemed more present than she had hoped. She knew that rain would be possible but she had convinced herself that the heavens knew how important this day was and simply wouldn’t do that to her.

Paige could sense the younger girls unease from the driver seat and placed what was supposed to be a calming hand on Azzi’s thigh. But the gesture just raised the tension in the car, Azzi shifted in her seat finding herself nervous. The movement caused Paige’s hand to slide further up her thigh and the blonde felt her breaths become unsteady, Azzi stilled in her seat, her brain malfunctioning at the girls warm hand being so close to- both girls were brought back to reality by a loud horn blaring behind them. Paige let out a nervous chuckle and brought her hand back to the steering wheel suddenly more focused than ever on driving. Azzi couldn’t help but notice how her friend's hands gripped tighter on the wheel.

They finally reached the trail. Paige basically ran out of the car and Azzi couldn’t help but giggle at the older girl's energy. She took the time to stretch after being a little cramped in the car, her tank top riding up a bit and exposing a sliver of her stomach. Paige couldn’t help but look and swallow hard. She didn’t know that Azzi had caught her until she cleared her throat and gave Paige a teasing smile. Paige’s eyes widened for a split second worried that she was letting on too much of what she’s worked to hide for so long, or what she thought she wasn’t being obvious about, but anyone who wasn’t Paige and Azzi could tell just by being in a room with them.

She concealed her thoughts by giving Azzi a wide grin and grabbing the bag they packed filled with water, snacks, and a first aid kit just in case. She then grabbed Azzi’s hand in hers, just for safety of course, and they started on their hike.

It all started out so well. Azzi was still scared but the anticipation she felt completely calmed that worry, plus Paige’s steady hand in hers the whole time grounded her in ways nothing else could. The trail was already so beautiful and they hadn’t even reached the top yet. They walked in a comfortable silence finding peace in each other and the soft sounds of nature around them. And then against everything Azzi had hoped for, it began to rain. Hard.

“You have got to be kidding me” Azzi let go of Paige’s hand to lift her own up in shock. “Hey it’s okay, we can just try it again on another day” but the disappointment was clear on Paige’s face. “No we should still finish it we’re so close” Azzi argued and attempted to keep walking before Paige placed a gentle hand on her elbow, and she turned around to face her. “Az. It’s not safe you could slip” Paige said it with so much care but Azzi couldn’t just give in. Not when her first surprise was still planned at the top. “It’ll be fine p we just have to be extra careful” she tried to reason with the blonde but when she walked a little further and began to loose her balance Paige had seen enough.

“Azzi” the brunette reluctantly brought her eyes up to Paige’s “but-“ “please Az it’s okay. We’ve already done so much of it, it’s been great but I just want to get you back on level ground and safe okay?” Azzi wanted to cry but instead she shook her head yes and let Paige slowly lead her back down the mountain.

The ride back was silent between them. Azzi’s mind was full as she tried to convince herself that this was just one minor setback, it didn’t mean the whole day had gone to shit yet. She still planned on confessing to Paige, and the movies would work out. They had too.

When they finally got back to Azzi’s a bit earlier than her plan included, she tried to quickly figure out how they would pass the time. She originally planned on hanging out at her place for two hours, however since they were unable to finish their hike and eat up top, they had a long 4 hours to fill. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if Paige didn’t get so antsy.

“Okay so we technically don’t have to be anywhere until 9”

“Sooo we could nap, or find a movie, go bother my brothers, play a video game, all of the above, whatever it is” she continued on.

“I thought you had the whole day planned” Paige questioned.

“Well this was still a part of the plan just.. condensed a bit” Azzi responded defensively but her tone was still light. Paige raised her hands up in mock surrender. “Whatever you say fudd” she teased back.

“Oh actually I have a something special for you or us really brb” Azzi ran to her room to find the gift she had been hiding.

“Close your eyes okay?” Her voice came out less confident than she had hoped.

“Okay open.” Azzi had expected Paige to be excited but the look on her face was one of uncertainty. The curly haired girl had bought plane tickets to Connecticut so she could spend the weekend with Paige on her second week at UConn.”

“Do you not want me to come? What's wrong p?”

“No az it’s just-“ she sighed trying to think of a way to voice what she was feeling without hurting her best friend's feelings. “ I just feel like I should spend a little more time on my own before we see each other. Get accommodated yknow?” Paige wasn’t going to say it but if she and Azzi weren’t going to date, she needed to know that she’d be okay with their distance after spending so much time together the past three months.

“Oh- no yeah, I totally get it” she didn’t. “ That's why I chose the second week instead of the first” she half heartedly joked and Paige just looked at her with a pitiful look she couldn’t bear to see. So she brushed it off. “Don’t worry I’ll just return them, it'll be fine. She gave Paige a small smile trying not to let Paige’s underwhelming response hurt her as much as it was.

“I’m so sorry Azzi” Paige needed Azzi to know that she was being serious but the younger girl wouldn’t even look at her in the eyes. Azzi just stood their and reminded herself that the day wasn’t shit yet.

…..

The day was officially a big pile of dog shit. The girls had chosen to nap as their first time passer, one of their favorite activities over the summer but when Azzi woke up there was no blonde hair sprawled next to her,no warm arm wrapped around her waist. She frowned to herself in disappointment and walked out of her room to see Paige outside on the balcony on the phone and smiling. A lot. She couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous, wondering who her friend was talking to. When the blonde noticed Azzi she only gave her a small smile and a wave turning around and continuing on with her phone call.

Azzi mimicked the action back to her and tried to distract herself. She was about 3 rounds into Fortnite when Paige finally came back in to join her. “Hey turn on my controller for me”

“Bossy” Azzi said under her breath.

“What was that?” Paige asked back but Azzi chose to ask a question of her own as a response.

“Who were you talking to out there” she tried to keep the question casual but the nervous way she chewed her lip gave her away.

“ Oh just an old friend, Clara. Have I ever told you about her?”

“Doesn’t ring any bells”

“Oh well we were childhood friends like I’m talking kindergarten but we lost contact when she moved in the 7th grade. She like found my instagram a week ago and we’ve been talking a bit, it’s been great to reconnect” if paige thought the look on Azzi’s face was weird she didn’t say anything and just added “ apparently she lives around here, isn’t that cool?!”

“Yeah that’s great p” Azzi gave her a tight smile and tried to focus on the game. She had no reason to be upset but why had Paige never mentioned this girl, and why didn’t she tell Azzi they were texting??

“She’s real cool, I think you’d like her”

“Yeah, maybe” Azzi gave a dry response back trying to move on from the conversation. Paige shot her a confused look but didn’t press any further.

They played the game for a bit- well Azzi played and Paige tried to but she was too wrapped up in her phone to pay attention and not die. Azzi swore the blonde girl would look down every ten seconds checking a message and smiling to herself.

“Ugh Paige what’s the point of playing duos if your just gonna let yourself die”

“Sorry princess” the brunette couldn’t help but blush at the sound of the nickname from Paige’s lips

“Clara invited us to her party tonight, I told her that we’d be more than happy to go. That okay?”

“Paige but- I had the whole day planned yknow” Azzi couldn’t believe that this is how it was planning out. Paige for sure wouldn’t ask her to ditch the original plans though, right?

“Yeah Az I know but… it’s not like they other stuff really worked, can’t we just move it to tomorrow or something, there’s still two weeks to fill” Paige responded and shrugged her shoulders as if it didn’t matter. She couldn’t be more wrong.

Paige could see the tears Azzi was fighting so hard to blink away and her heart ached. Making the curly haired girl upset was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Shit I’m so sorry Az look at me, please?” The younger hair girl just shook her head in response letting out a humorless laugh. “ I just tried so hard to make today perfect for us and nothing has gone right” Azzi said while wiping the tears that were now falling rapidly.

“Shh it’s okay baby” Paige reached out to fully embrace Azzi accidentally letting the term of endearment slip, she tried to play it off but by the way Azzi tensed momentarily she knew her best friend had noticed. “Since when have we ever needed perfection to have a good time?”

“God you just don’t get it Paige” Azzi said harsher than she expected. Paige let go of her and took a small step back hurt spreading across her features. “I’m sorry I just- I just need a moment alone okay?” Azzi hadn’t meant to hurt the girl's feelings; she just couldn’t contain all of what she was feeling. She gave Paige’s arm a squeeze and walked back into the house. Paige just stood there for a moment confused by what was going on and how she could fix it.

So she went to talk to Katie who over the years became like a second mom to her. She could talk to her about anything, especially about Azzi. She found her in the kitchen cleaning up dinner.

“Katie?” She looked up at Paige with a concerned smile having seen her daughter come in tears and lock her door. The look only made Paige feel worse. “Yes dear?” “Do you know why Azzi’s so upset with me? Why was today supposed to be so special? ". She bit her lip and tried to keep her own tears from falling.

Katie gave her a knowing look, “Aw sweetheart Azzi just..” she hesitated trying to think of the best way to word things without revealing too much. “You mean so much to her, and you’re leaving so soon. She’s just scared that once you go to college you guys won’t be able to have these moments anymore.” “But we’ve done the long distance best friend thing before, why does anything have to change” Katie finally walked towards Paige and wrapped her in a hug when she let go she said “ things will change and I think deep down you know that. College is a lot different and it’ll be harder to make time for each other”

“I’ll always have time for Azzi” Paige said it with so much sincerity that even Katie wanted to tear up. “I think you just need to talk to each other. Like really talk about it. She can’t shut you out for too long, and honestly I don’t think she knows how to even if she wanted to” Azzi’s mom gave Paige a big squeeze and walked back to where she was cleaning.

Suddenly Paige had a great idea for them to end their night on a better note. “ Okay two more questions, 1, how would two people go about getting on the roof and would you be opposed? And 2. Where's your picnic basket?”

“I’ll let you up there only if you promise to be safe. It might still be slippery from the rain, and second I’ll tell you about the basket another time” she shook her head and laughed as she left the kitchen.

Paige had to make Azzi feel better and she wasn’t certain about her plan but she had to try.

…

About thirty minutes later Paige knocked on Azzi’s door before walking in. “Az?” She kneeled down on the floor to be eye level with the girl lying in her bed.

“Don’t you have a party to get too?” She rolled over trying to ignore her best friend in front of her

“What if I said I had something better planned for just us?” She was met with no response. “Come on Az pleasee” she rubbed the girls back “I really think you’ll like it.” Azzi hesitantly rolled back to face Paige ready to say no, but seeing the vulnerable look in Paige’s eyes, a sort of uncertainty she wasn’t used to seeing in contrast with Paige’s usual confidence, she just didn’t have the heart to.

Paige led Azzi through the house hand in hand not yet ready to let go.

“Do you trust me?” she playfully asked the curly haired girl trying to lighten the mood. Azzi’s eyes were red and puffy, Paige hated seeing her like this.

Azzi just shook her head but she didn’t let go of Paige’s hand so she took it as at least a partial win.

Azzi finally picked up on their location. “The roof?” “Paige you know my parents think it's too dangerous”

“Well actually I asked your mom and she said yes without any objections so” Paige shrugged like it was really no big deal.

“Can’t argue with that” Azzi mumbled and continued to the roof. When they finally reached it she couldn’t help but gasp. Paige had set out a blanket and a bag with what Azzi was guessing was food. Paige walked towards their blanket like it was nothing. The brunette though was a bit shocked and despite her mood felt her heart melt.

“It’s not much” the blonde said sheepishly , “but it is your favorite so I hope you like it.” In the bag was a plate of strawberries and Nutella laid out in a heart shape. Azzi looked at her in a way Paige didn’t have a name for yet but had seen many times from the girl, she felt her cheeks get warm.

Both girls laid down on the blanket. The chilly night air gave them a reason to lay close.

“It’s so beautiful tonight” Azzi said softly, letting herself relax.

“Yeah it is” Paige said quietly back, except, it wasnt the stars she was looking at. When Azzi looked at Paige, she found her best friend already staring intently on her, with a look of longing she thought she imagined . Her breath hitched, their closeness becoming apparent as she could feel the blondes breath mix with her own. They looked into each other’s eyes like that for a long moment until the intensity in Paige’s blue eyes became too much.

She sat up and distracted herself with the strawberries and Nutella, aware of Paige’s eyes still on her every move. Neither one of them talked for a bit but it wasn’t an awkward silence. Paige was surprised to hear Azzi’s voice finally break it.

“ I had it all planned out” she started Paige remained quiet just wanting to hear what else she had to say. “We were going to do that hike you always begged me to do, and once we finally got to the top I had a whole picnic basket of all of our favorites” “it wasn’t even supposed to rain today! Trust me I checked” she shook her head in annoyance, Paige just put a supportive hand on her shoulder. Azzi sighed and looked back up at the stars “ and when that didn’t work I was of course upset but I wasn’t going to let it ruin everything else about today yknow?”

“ But that plus the drive was supposed to take up most of the day time, leaving us a few hours to nap, or play video games or basketball, just any of the things we normally love to do. But without ou finishing the hike and eating there was just so much extra time, and who would I be to ask you to not talk to a friend when we had 4 hours before the last thing” she rambled on, just needing to finally let it all out.

She laid back down beside Paige but continued looking at the sky.

“And right about now, I had the drive through theater rented out for just us. They even let me choose our movie.” She took a deep shaky breath. Paige had a surprised look on her face but Azzi just kept going.

“And at the end of Love and Basketball” she finally turned on her side again to look Paige in the eye. Paige had been silent through all of it sitting up briefly with the girl rubbing calming circles around her back before she laid down.

Now with them both laying down Paige found herself holding her breath nervous to hear what else the brunette had to say.

“ at the end that’s when I was finally going to tell you that I’m so in love with you Paige” Paige felt her voice catch in her throat, rendered speechless by the younger girls confession.

“I have been for so long now, I’ve just been too scared I’m sor-“ she was quickly cut off by Paige’s lips crashing into her, the kiss was hesitant at first but it soon became desperate. Azzi’s hand cradled Paige’s cheek softly, which was a stark contrast to the way Paige’s hand gripped her waist, needing Azzi to become infinitely close

Azzi let out a breathy moan, her mouth opening enough for Paige to slip her tongue in. Her mouth was warm and tasted like chocolate from Nutella . The pace of the kiss picked up and Paige released a breathy moan of her own and she flipped them, hovering over Azzi letting some of her weight rest on top of her. She was drunk on the taste of Azzi. This moment was everything she dreamed of since the plane ride back from team USA.

Paige finally broke the kiss and rested her head on Azzi’s letting both girls catch their breaths. Neither girl could stop the smiles on their faces. Azzi looked so stunning like this with her pupils blown out fitting under Paige like she belonged there.

“You’re perfect” she tucked a loose strand behind Azzi’s ear and couldn’t resist placing another soft kiss on the brunette's lips.

“And we’re both so stupid” she laid back on her side and giggled. “Azzi. I have loved you since the day we met, there’s no one like you. and there’s nobody I’d rather spend my days with, no one I’d rather bicker with, and definitely no one I’d rather ask to be my girlfriend.”

This time it was Azzi who leaned in. This kiss was tender and filled with all of the words they shared, and everything yet to come.

“We really missed out on doing this all summer” Paige shook her head with a grin

“I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time now” Azzi teased before pulling the girl back on top of her. This time they took it all in, hands wandering everywhere, and if it wasn’t for the chilly night air they would’ve stayed forever.

[lovebittenbyevans]

When We Meet Again | One Shot

Maybe I’ll see you in another life if this one wasn’t enough – florence + the machine

Summary: Before leaving Paris, you wanted to take in the city one last time, but everything changed when you saw Lewis—someone from your past who somehow exists in the present. His presence feels like an unexpected second chance, bringing back emotions you thought were lost.

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader (Bloom)

Warnings: age gap (lewis mid-30s and reader mid 20s), cursed words, slow burn, flashback of past.

One Shot

Paris, France — 2022

“I’ll be back, Mom!” you shouted as you slammed the door behind you.

You were scrolling through Paris, capturing a few pictures with your phone, trying to take in the beauty of the city.

One thing’s for certain: you never believed Paris was the “City of Love” that everyone claims it to be. Deep down, you never bought into the idea of love at first sight or soulmates.

You stopped by this cute coffee shop and ordered yourself a cup of coffee even though the sun was going down slowly. The coffee shop was charming, with plants filling every corner. As you waited for your drink, you skimmed through a few messages from your cousin Ariel.

Ariel: I can’t believe him!

Ariel: He is a piece of shit! I should of listened to you 🥺

Ariel: Thank you for always being there for me, cousin. I miss you ❤️

“A medium ice Café Glacé.” The woman said with a French accent as she placed the drink on the counter.

You thanked her, took your drink, and walked out the door, sipping it as you continued on your way. You visited the Luxembourg Gardens and were captivated by the stunning flowers that caught your eye.

You take your phone out of your pocket and turn the camera toward the screen, ready to snap a photo. Just as you’re about to click, someone bumps into you. “Oh, shit I’m so sorry.”

You turn around to see who it was, about to reassure them. “No, it’s—” You pause as the person interrupts. “Bloom?”

You blinked for a moment, staring at the person in front of you, his face familiar but still surprising. “Uh… Lewis?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips as he gazed at you.

You were unsure of what to make of it. His face seemed familiar, like you’d seen it before, but this time felt different.

“Uh…” you hesitated. “Hi.”

Lewis opens his mouth to speak, then pauses, closing it as he carefully thinks about how to phrase his words without sounding awkward. “How long are you staying in Paris?” he asks.

You take a sip of your coffee before responding, “Today’s my last day. I was just visiting my mom for the week.”

He gave a nod. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I'm leaving soon.” You tell him.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets when the two of you heard a voice. “Lew, we are going to be late for dinner.”

You saw the woman holding onto Lewis’s arm as he glanced at her. “Right, uh…” He paused for a moment before looking back at you. “Well, I’d better get going.”

You clear your throat and nod. “It was nice seeing you, Lewis.” He nods in return. “Yeah, you too.” As you turn to walk away, you think you hear his voice again. “But hey, maybe we—” You keep walking, taking a sip of your coffee, and hear faint giggles in the background.

You shake your head as you walk through the garden, lost in thoughts of the “what ifs.” You can’t help but wonder how things might have turned out if the woman he was with hadn’t been there. Each step you take feels like a reminder that maybe you shouldn’t be getting your hopes up and should just keep quiet.

Paris, France – 2025

It’s hard to believe you’ve been living in Paris for a few years now, especially after all those years of traveling back and forth to visit your mom. The friends you’ve made over time and your mom’s joy at having you nearby make it all feel so worth it.

You open the door to your apartment, hoping to get rid of the awful smell, only to find Lewis standing there. “Lewis…hi.”

He stood there, hands in his pockets, staring at you. “Can we talk?”

“Oh… uh,” you muttered, turning around and calling out to your friend Kim, “I’ll be right back, Kim!”

You step out the door, closing it gently behind you, and follow Lewis down the empty hallway. Leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, you ask, “what’s going on?”

He stood before you and said, “A few years ago, I feel like I should have done better.”

You gave him a puzzled glance. “What do you mean?”

“3 years every time we passed each other I always remember your face. Your face always pops up in my mind.” He said, honestly. “You are always so kind and sweet, bloom.”

You wonder where he was going with this. “But, you were with someone Lew.”

He nods. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I stopped thinking about you.”

Fuck!

Your heart begins to race as you sense where this conversation is headed.

“And I told you I don’t do love and relationships.” You remind him again.

He clears his throat and steps closer to you. “Well, maybe…” He places his hand on the wall above your head. “You just haven’t found the right one yet—someone who can change that for you.”

“Lewis…” Your voice barely a whisper as his gaze lingered on your lips. “Do you know why I call you Bloom?” He leaned in closer, his nose brushing gently against yours.

“No, I–I don’t.” You murmured, heart racing, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation flooding through your veins.

He smiled, just barely before his lips hovered over yours. “Because like a bloom, you’ve unfolded into something. Beautiful and Wild.” His voice dropped to a hushed, intimidating tone. “And I just can’t stop watching you be your true self.”

His words were tender and sweet. Your eyes fixate on his lips as he leans in, closing the distance between you both. “I am falling in love with you, bloom and I want to give us a try no matter what universe you live in.”

“I—” You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, all you could do was press your lips to his, your hands tangled in his hair.

In that moment, all that echoed in your mind was, “Fuck it.”

[toasttt11]

not alone

August 18, 2023

Ophelia was sitting on the couch snuggled under a throw blanket Ellen gave her as she watching a preseason NFL game with Jim.

Ophelia obviously has watched a football game before but it wasn’t really a sport she’s been interested even if she is from Seattle. So Jim has been sitting with her watching preseason and explaining more of the game to her.

The lake house was mostly empty just Ophelia with Jim and Ellen as Quinn and Luke went to pick up Jack from airport as Jack has been in LA for over the past week.

“And that’s what they don’t want to happen?” Ophelia asked Jim as a play happened on the screen.

“Correct.” Jim gave her a proud smile.

Ellen watched fondly, she knows how much Jim has been enjoying teaching Ophelia everything about football especially because he misses the time he taught the boys about sports and he gets another chance now.

“The favorite is home!” Jack loudly called out as he walked inside making Quinn and Luke shared a fond eye roll.

Ophelia perked up seeing Jack and she got up and walked right over making Jack beam and he quickly hugged her and spun her around making her giggle, “Hi Jacky.”

Jack gasped softly at the nickname and squeezed her even more, she hasn’t called him by a nickname yet, “Hi Bee! I missed you!” Jack softly cooed rocking her back and forth.

“Missed you too.” Ophelia softly whispered back, she’s not use to missing people that aren’t who Dad but it isn’t a bad feeling.

Jack just kept beaming and eventually after squeezing her to death he let her go.

“Now it’s time for a boat ride.” Jack decided easily. Ellen and Jim shared a knowing look.

“I’m driving.” Quinn smirked at Jack and Jack groaned.

Luke grabbed a spare hoodie that’s Jack’s off the front entrance hooks and handed it to Ophelia making her give him a small smile and slip the hoodie on before grabbing the throw blanket too.

Ophelia walked next to Jack down and onto the boat and Jack sat down next to her and Luke sat across from them and Jim and Ellen to the left of Ophelia and Jack and Quinn driving.

Quinn drove them out into the lake and once they found a spot he stopped the boat and they anchored.

Quinn got up from his the captain chair and sat on the other side of Ophelia, he smiled softly seeing Ophelia bundled under her blankets with the hood on her head.

Ophelia leaned her head on Quinn’s shoulder looking out at the water and the sun that was just starting to set.

Her Dad would have loved it out, He was always the one who loved the water and that’s where Ophelia gets her love from.

Ophelia took a deep breath licking it her lips nervously and didn’t even realize she was fiddling with Jack’s bracelets, “My Dad would have loved it here.”

Her words made everyone on the boat pause and Ellen was the one who spoke up, “Did he like the water?” Ellen asked her gently.

“Loved it. He bought a house on the lake in Seattle after he moved there.” Ophelia shared with them.

“Where did he move from?” Luke asked her next giving her a soft reassuring look.

“Oregon.” Ophelia paused and let out a breath deciding to tell them more, “Dad was born there but after he found out he was gonna have a kid, his parents kicked him out and he was offered a job offer in Seattle.” Ophelia shared with the family she has grown to trust completely.

Quinn softly rubbed her shoulders encouraging her to keep sharing if she wanted.

Ellen and Jim shared a sad look at her Dad was kicked out because he was going to become a father.

“What about your Mom?” Jack softly asked her next letting her play with his bracelets.

Ophelia scoffed slightly and for the first time the Hughes all saw genuine annoyance on Ophelia’s face, “She didn’t want me, Hates me even more because she was kicked out of her family and being pregnant paused her career.”

Ellen and Quinn both frowned in unison looking identical. Ellen gripped Jim’s hand.

Jack’s jaw dropped slightly, how can anyone not want Ophelia?

“Well we want you Bee.” Luke gave her a small little smile making her blink back tears.

“You can stop if you want Bee.” Quinn softly whispered to her noticing her getting a bit upset.

“It’s okay.” Ophelia softly shook her head, she needed but also wanted them to know.

“She was mostly gone for most of my childhood only being home for a day or two but it was clear she hates me.” Ophelia admitted.

“And then Dad got sick.” Ophelia’s voice wobbled as she kept her eyes trained on the floor of the boat.

Luke couldn’t sit away any more and got up sitting on the floor in front of Ophelia making her glance over at him and he gave her a reassuring smile.

“He was sick for a while and eventually stayed in the hospital until January 2020 and he passed.”

Jack grabbed Ophelia’s hand realizing just how young Ophelia was when all of this was happening and she was all alone.

Quinn kept his arm over her shoulder holding her to him protectively.

“She uh filed for me to emancipated the day i turned sixteen.” Ophelia softly revealed.

“You’ve been alone all this time.” Ellen looked devastated, the poor girl had to deal with her father dying with no one and then be completely alone.

“Yeah.” Ophelia softly nodded, she doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

Quinn softly lifted her head so she looked at him and he firmly spoke to her, “You are never gonna be alone again Ophelia. You’re part of our family now.”

Ophelia’s eyes filled with tears at how words.

“You’re stuck with us.” Jack softly teased but was being completely sincere as Ophelia glanced at him.

“No take backs.” Luke piped in from where he was sitting on the floor giving her his crooked smile.

Ophelia let out a watery laugh and she glanced to Ellen and Jim seeing them both nodding agreement with the boys.

“The boys are right, you’re part of this family and you always will be.” Ellen firmly but kindly told Ophelia with Jim nodding in agreement smiling at her.

Ophelia let out a small sob making Quinn pull her even closer and rubbing her back softly, Quinn gently kissed the top of her head and just hugged her letting her cry.

Luke rested his head on her knee and Jack gently squeezed her hand letting her cry into Quinn’s chest.

Ophelia sniffled and pulled back as Quinn gently used his thumb to wipe away her tears off her face.

“Thank you.” Ophelia looked so grateful looking at the Hughes.

“Always Bee.” Quinn softly said back.

Ophelia wasn’t alone anymore and she was also gaining her first family in return.

[noellawrites]

Belonging to You - dark!Gilbert Blythe x reader

part one linked here - but it isn’t necessary to understand this part <3

synopsis: your parents allow Gilbert to court you, and he has an idea about exactly the wife you should be, but he can’t wait until the wedding.

warnings: arranged/forced marriage & dub/noncon (brief). Gilbert & reader are 18+

requested by: @xxoverthinkerxx @kakamixo

As the cool autumn turned into a biting winter, you remained steadfast in your avoidance of Gilbert Blythe.

Your mother was so happy to hear of your “budding friendship” and readily encouraged it, but you hadn’t told her about the forceful kiss.

Gilbert was attending Queen’s College, returning to Avonlea whenever he could. Bash and Delphine remained in Gilbert’s house, tending to the property in his absence.

You, on the other hand, were studying with Avonlea’s new schoolteacher and helping her teach classes to the younger children. Since you had turned eighteen, your parents made you focus less on schoolwork and more on finding a husband.

Your mother’s recent attempt had been with Billy Andrews, who had brutally mocked you in school. His opinion of you didn’t seem to change, laughing as he took in the sight of your dilapidated house and sad, desperate parents.

However, your mom had announced that a special guest would be coming over for dinner this weekend. She took away your schoolbooks and made you focus on your recipes, bound to show this new suitor that you could be a useful wife.

“If this young man doesn’t want you, I think we’ll have to search through the widowers in town. I hear both Mr. Croft and Mr. Franks are looking for young wives,” your father points out as you set the table for dinner.

“Oh gross, dad. I’m not marrying some old man!” you exclaim.

“You will have to, if Gilbert Blythe refuses to marry you,” your mother snaps.

“G-Gilbert?” you squeak, a shiver of fear running down your spine. You still hadn’t fully forgotten the forceful kiss from early that spring.

“Yes. Gilbert has generously offered to court you, and we have accepted. As you know, we had to sell your dowry to keep our land, (y/n). And it’s not like any suitors are knocking down doors to be with you,” your father points out.

“I-I can pause my studies! I can go into Charlottetown and—“ your voice is cut off by a knock at the front door, and you know exactly who it is.

“Oh, lovely! He’s here already,” your mother smiles, clapping her hands.

You reach your hand towards the knob shakily, ready to greet Gilbert against your will.

“Hello, (y/n). You are looking quite beautiful today,” he smiles, bowing to you and kissing your hand softly.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you again! Come in, come in,” your mother beckons.

You feel like you’re floating outside your body through the entire dinner, nodding and smiling when anyone looks over at you.

Gilbert is seated next to you, of course, with your parents on the opposite side. Neither of them see when Gilbert places his palm on the top of your thigh. Nothing changed, and he carries on his discussion with your dad about farmland and the possibility of Gilbert buying your family’s farm.

“Our children will have lots of land to play on,” Gilbert says, turning to face you with a smile.

“O-oh— I don’t know if I want children, Gilbert,” you say quietly

“Honey! Take that back,” your mother hisses, her eyes flying wide open.

Gilbert frowns, grip tightening on your thigh. “Once we marry, you won’t have much of a choice.”

You force out a cruel laugh. “Once we marry? That’s if I even want to marry you.”

“Please stop making this worse for yourself, honey,” your mother begs. She still remembers her own lack of choices when her parents chose your father as her match.

“We have already accepted Gilbert’s offer for your hand, the deed is done,” your dad says harshly.

“What? And you’re just telling me this now?”

“Once I finish university, I want to raise our big family in my home and work as Avonlea’s doctor,” Gilbert explains, standing up from the table and resting his hand on your shoulder.

“The wedding is a month from today,” your mom tells you. You’re still in shock, processing the fact that a man you hardly knew, only from school, was to be your eternal husband.

“This is not fair,” you snap, and run up the stairs to your bedroom. You fall against your quilt, tears soaking the fabric as you realize your fate. Just another miserable woman chained to Avonlea, forced to be a mother and caregiver.

You don’t even hear the footsteps ascending the stairs and approaching your room. You are fully surprised when your door opens and Gilbert is on the other side, arms crossed over his chest, looking very angry.

“Your parents assured me that I would be receiving an obedient wife,” Gilbert hisses through clenched teeth.

You look up, turning your head to the man standing angrily at your door. “Are you serious? You expect me to be an obedient wife to you when I barely even know you?”

“You know me well enough, aren’t we friends?”

You blink, processing Gilbert’s words. You did know him, or you thought you did.

“I suppose you’re a better option than Billy Andrews,” you sit up, cracking a smile.

“That’s the spirit,” Gilbert smirks, sitting down on your bed next to you.

“But… your parents expect certain things from us,” Gilbert continues, “and I’ll need you to take care of the children and house while I finish my studies.”

“What about the land?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Bash takes care of the land and maintenance, but you will be responsible for Delphine while he works,” Gilbert explains.

“That— that isn’t too bad, I suppose. And I can visit you when you’re in school?”

“What, now you want to visit me?” Gilbert jokes, nudging you.

“I mean, if you’re my husband, then yes,” you nod.

“It’s settled then,” Gilbert says.

You still weren’t completely sold on the idea of marrying Gilbert, but you didn’t mind being courted by him for now. And if it meant your parents would stop pressuring you, you were all for it.

Gilbert reaches for your hand, taking it in his and moving closer to you.

You feel like you blinked and all of a sudden, your new fiancée was laying beside you on the bed. And when he leaned over to kiss you, all you could do was let him.

You were acutely aware that you belonged to him now, in every moment. His, as his hand inched down to the hem of your dress. His, as he slid it over your head and kissed down your soft stomach.

—

The month passed you by in a flurry of activity. Suddenly, it was your wedding day to Gilbert and you still didn’t feel ready, still didn’t want to give your life away.

Your trunk had already been moved to Gilbert’s home, sheets stripped from your bed and room lait bare in front of you.

“Honey? Why are you up here, it’s almost time. All the guests are outside,” your mom hums, standing in the doorway.

You turn to her slowly, and she sees the tears trailing down your cheeks.

“Momma— I don’t wanna do this,” you whisper.

“It’s too late,” she hisses, taking a step closer.

“Mom, it’s not. I could always—“

“Gilbert told me what you did, what happened the day you agreed to marry him. When we left you two alone on this very room,” she snaps, “I didn’t think I raised a temptress. But you sealed your fate.”

You had almost forgotten by now, but not quite. The unceremonious occasion when Gilbert took your virginity and claimed you as his, right on your childhood bed.

You gulp and nod. You had no choices left, only to commit to Gilbert fully. It was your only hope for a good life and future.

—

“I’m proud of you,” Gilbert whispers. It is nighttime, your first night in your new home.

“You told my parents that you—“

“That we,” he corrects. You nod. A husband is always right.

“Gilbert, I’ve grown ill,” you confess, and your husband moves closer to you under the blankets. His eyes light up.

“Do you think—?” he asks, excited at the prospect that his seed might’ve already taken.

“I do,” you squeak, “and I have not bled, either.”

“This is amazing news!” he blurts out, wrapping his arms around you. It is supposed to be a hug, but it only feels like a trap.

“Our children will be so intelligent, like me. Obedient like you, of course. And so cute, like you, my wife,” he sighs, stroking your cheek.

As he looks into your eyes, you see a mixture of lust and power in them. Gilbert has you, you belong to him now. His perfect life is in his clutches.

[breeberrypies]

pink goes good with green ‧₊˚ ⋅*

goes well with green.

+another sketch bc i love them

[kickassfu]

my dog might die tonight

my mom's depressed and emotionally exhausted, to the point she slurs her words and feels like a zombie most days

has said to my face she doesn't want to fix it

that soon her mom will die and me and my sister are grown so...

we don't need her

and my dog's old and sick

in pain

at the vet getting oxygen and medication

to see if he'll make it through the night

and thank god he's there, so he doesn't have to suffer

but he's not next to us

he might die alone away from us

i think there's some poetic bullshit there

he would die in pain by our side

but he has a chance to survive away from us

and if he doesn't make it till the next day he'll die alone, but without pain

i just want to take everyone's pain away

but I can't

i can't fix it

it's not up to me

i can't do shit

[liquidstar]

Between commissions I finally managed to finish this OC set of parent characters! If the looks aren't enough to show you who their kid is, the background colors match them ^_^ but of course more details below!

Name: Thuban

Name origin: The former pole star, before the north star (Polaris), it's name means "Large snake" and is referred to as the “Dragon's tail”

Pronouns: He/him

Age: N/A

Relation: Raised Polaris, though they're not related by blood and have a somewhat distant relationship, until he suddenly went MIA

Weapon: Spear (Same as Polaris's)

Ethos (Power): N/A

Flaw power is based on: N/A

Notes: Make no phallic jokes about the large snake thing and you'll be rewarded

Name: Ananke

Name origin: A moon of Jupiter, named for the mythological spirit of necessity, inevitably, and compulsion

Pronouns: She/her

Age: -

Relation: Bella's mother, she raised her to be a warrior

Weapon: Bardiche

Ethos (Power): Indomination (The ability to freeze the movement of objects and people, and lock them in place)

Flaw power is based on: Her strict enforcement of obedience through authoritarianism, and a lack of concern for the wishes of others

Notes: She believes in tough love. It's better in the long run to give your kid strength rather than affection.

Name: Rhea

Name origin: A moon of Saturn named after the Titan known as the mother of the gods

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 38

Relation: Saiph's mother, though she gave him up to the guild when he was very young

Weapon: None

Ethos (Power): None

Flaw power is based on: N/A

Notes: Was unable to take care of a baby at the time, and gave Saiph to the guild. She wishes she'd visited beyond that but it's probably too late now...

Name: Arche

Name origin: One of Jupiter's moons, it's name comes from the muse of new beginnings and is associated with springtime

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 7

Relation: Saiph's half-brother. Neither currently knows the other exists

Weapon: None

Ethos (Power): None

Flaw power is based on: N/A

Notes: He's just a little guy. He likes flowers and playing with toys. He wants to be a cool hero like his dad

Name: Poerava

Name origin: A star in Tucana, the Maori word for a black pearl of mystical beauty and perfection

Pronouns: She/her

Age: -

Relation: Al's mom. She mostly raised him on her own while her husband was with the knights.

Weapon: None

Ethos (Power): None

Flaw power is based on: N/A

Notes: Probably the best parent of the bunch if we're being real.

[foggysirens]

there’s a sort of clawing desperation that rips you up from the insides when you’re trying to be an adult and have your own life but then the very same people who are telling you to do just that continue to treat and berate you like a child and refuse to see you as a person with adult concerns and needs and you are left trying to juggle these two selves that they want to exist as one but only if both halves are agreeable to them and follow orders but they also throw it in your face that’s you need to make your “own decisions” and i want to throw up :)

[todayisafridaynight]

Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.

i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon

[coyoxxtl]

i didnt want to put this in my prev reblogs tags but like

my dad was a us army soldier that went to Iraq, and for a long time i thought he did good over there, or at least tried. like my mom said that he had locals thank him personally for his help. though now i wonder if he’s just, lying about all that. bc not only did he literally Come Back Wrong after his third deployment, over the years he slowly opens up about shit he deliberately never told me, like the time he and a few other soldiers were left for dead by his group, and he only survived because the locals helped him, if im remembering right. however, i wonder how true that all is, or rather does that make up for the other heinous shit he’s responsible for. i remember him telling me passively he tortured a man. so i Know he has skeletons in his closet, i know for a fact there’s shit he will take to his grave.

all those times i prayed for my dad to survive and come back home, was that at the expense of innocent Iraqis? could my dad dying out there saved someone? I’ll never know for sure, but it kinda points to that doesn’t it?

[spamtoon]

(Out of nowhere, you are approached by a familiar lightbulb-headed Cog.)

Ah, it's you, cat. Thinking you're oh-so-slick. Muttering and whispering under those raggedy whiskers of yours... Thinking I am unable to hear it all...

Well, you've simply underestimated my fantastic hearing. You probably want to know the reason why I'm here, taking a 'break' from my incredibly important scientific breakthroughs? It's quite simple, really!

(She gets close, and squints her eyes.)

I know what you are.

Farewell, now!

(She then leaves the way she came from.)

(Spam giggles immensely, covering her face... it always seems like she's giggling, isn't she? This lasts... at least thirty seconds. Longer than usual.)

And I know what I am too, Sparky! You broke through something, that's for sure. Really, broke through...

(She looks down, continuing to laugh nervously.)

You know, I find it odd you Havent tried to bulb blast me into the stratosphere by now. I mean knowing how you acted with Frostbite. Is there something peculiar about me that you perhaps can't quite track? Something about me that you... don't know what I am?

I know, I know, I'm talking to nobody again. But you were there when I had a moment today with the one the only Frostbite The Bravecog. You may be remaining. Lurking in the shadows. Knowing about these thoughts that I'm thinking.

(The giggling resumes, lasting far shorter this time.)

Your brother's a piece of fucking barp, by the way

(She braces for impact for a few seconds, wincing while smiling, before comically looking around to realize nobody's there. She sighs.)

Wow, okay maybe toony superhero show logic doesn't apply in this situation. Cool.

WAIT I JUST FUCKING REALIZED WHAT SHE MEANT but like. Dude if she meant that then what's the point I mean the whole ahh sellbot department barping knows unless you're Really low on the ladder. Heheh... maybe she did mean what I thought she meant.

Oh i'm so fucking screwed. What kind of bitch gets filament fever

[cheswirls]

ah i could not help myself. checked onk for a detail on the movie arc and ended up rereading the entire movie arc, then bit the bullet and read up to current. not as many chapters as i thought considering how long ago i was "caught up" and that onk is a weekly?? i guess there were breaks. almsot made me think it was a monthly series. with how little there was

tbh if i had waited til the end of the year that would have been perfect. it rly seems like there are not many chapters left. even where i left off tho, it was enough where again i wasn't dying to know what happened next, so i can wait for it to finish if it finishes this year :) maybe spoiler-y rant in tags for past 5-6 chapters

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

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

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

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

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

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

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

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

➸ masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

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

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

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

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for no flirting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Bros.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. 

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He feels like throwing up. 

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

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

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

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

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

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

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think about fucking you all the time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10:34am you: do it then

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

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

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

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

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

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

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

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

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

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

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

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

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—” He stops himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

[the end]

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

➸ masterlist

taglist:

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

@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

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

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

@satoryaa @gojodickbig @v4mpieres @reinam00n @sleepyyammy

@haikomaiko @tbzzluvr @myahfig4 @arabelluhhh4200 @bloopsstuff

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

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

@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

[emometalhead]

.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Simon hated the tapping out ceremony. Ever since he first had to partake in one, he despised it. With no family and very few friends, he was usually the last on the field, waiting until one of his superiors would tap him out. But he couldn’t skip them either.

So there he was. The sun was beating down on the hundreds of soldiers lined up in neat little rows, standing at attention while they waited for their loved ones. And they came quickly. One soldier after the other was tapped out by their parents, siblings, spouse, and sometimes even children. But he stayed still, watching the happy reunions out of the corner of his eyes. Watching the tears and hugs and kisses. He envied the others; he was jealous of what they had, and he didn’t. But Simon had always been good at following orders, so he didn’t move, barely even blinked as he was surrounded by happiness, while he drowned in his own sorrow.

After an hour, there was only one other soldier left. Simon had barely interacted with him, but he knew his face. And just when Simon thought he wouldn’t be the only one without someone to tap him out this time, a crowd of eight people moved toward the soldier. At the front was an older-looking woman, her brown hair streaked with grey and lines on her face, indicating her age. Around her were people of all ages and genders.

“My son!” The woman let out a sob as she finally threw her arms around the soldier’s neck, causing the man to chuckle, as he hugged her back. “I missed you too, mama.”

One by one, he talked to the people surrounding him, hugged them, and kissed them. Simon couldn’t help but watch, bile rising in his throat as jealousy threatened to overtake him. And as he watched, he couldn’t help but imagine himself in the soldier’s stead. Surrounded by a happy, loud, and loving family. People who were happy to see him. Nowadays, the only people he could call family were the guys from the 141, and they were away on a mission. Still, in his mind, the scene played out. His mother, smiling, rushing toward him. Followed by his brother and his wife, carrying his nephew.

The daydream was interrupted by someone walking toward him. He expected it to be his superior, there to finally release him from the nightmare. But it wasn’t.

A young woman took timid steps in his direction. Her eyes, bright but filled with sadness. Not her own sadness, though, it was sadness she felt for him. He didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t blink. She came to a stop in front of him, gazing up with a frown.

“Is someone coming?” Simon hesitated before giving an almost invisible shake of his head. She gasped, it was quiet and he barely heard it, but he felt it. In every bone, he felt her sadness and the sorrow she carried for him. Slowly, as if not to startle him, she lifted her hand, until it was inches away from his chest. “Is…is this okay?” When he gave a slight nod, she gently pressed her hand against his chest, finally tapping him out.

A breath he didn’t realize he had been holding escaped him as he finally turned to properly look at the woman. She was still gazing up at him, a soft smile now replacing the frown on her face.

“Thank you.” She nodded in response before glancing back at her family. When she looked back at Simon, she looked determined. “We’re going out to eat dinner if you’d like to join us?” Simon was about to decline when someone called out to him.

“Oi! Ghost!” He looked up and saw the soldier, now facing him, an arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder. “Let’s go; my mom says dinner’s on us!” Without waiting for a response, he turned around and started walking toward the car park, his entire family in tow. Simon kept looking after him until a soft, small hand slipped into his own. He glanced down and found the woman smiling up at him.

“Come, my mom doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” And with those words, the woman gently led him to follow her family.

Part 2

A/N: This will be a two-parter. I hope you liked it!