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bronx-bomber87 · 3 days

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Hello lovely fandom and happy Wednesday. We are cruising along with 6x09. Can't believe we're already on the second to last ep. Not a ton of Chenford or Tim in this one but what we do get is GOOOD. It's an all around good episode though. Let us begin.

6x09 The Squeeze

Recap of 6x06-6x08 got me all in my feels before this one even starts. Poor Tim killing me right off that bat. Always be floored by Eric and his ability to convey so much with a look. How it just makes me wanna hug his hurt away. No wonder Lucy always pulls him in for hugs. How could she not? I’m sure he hasn’t even begun to process how he feels. It’s a lot what just happened to him. It all unfolded in the blink of an eye.

Someone who he used to work closely with killing himself in front of him. Doing so because he’s a dirty cop. Not only that but taking all his secrets with him. Only thing Tim got out of it was Dr. London being dirty too. Grey shows up to the scene and startles Tim out of his thoughts. He debriefs Wade letting him know Mad Dog confessed to being dirty. That he believes Blair to be apart of it as well. Now we all know he didn’t mention her by name.

BUT it was pretty damn implied. With the awkward interactions in the hospital and the rooftop scene. Wade asks if he used her name specifically? Tim tells him no….But it was clear she was who M.D. was speaking of. Grey reminding him to be careful of accusing without any evidence. As amazing as his cop gut is that’s not evidence unfortunately. Loving the hat on Wade btw. Very fitting.

It’s not too long before the accusatory Detective Pearson shows up. Not loving him from the jump. Couldn't stand him for couple reasons. One because douche bag just comes off him in waves. Two the way he comes at Tim makes me wanna knock him on his ass. This guy coming in way too hot for my liking. Far too eager to pin this on Tim.

Makes my protective Sicilian side emerge and she’s not happy. I do love Grey being quick to Tim’s defense. No one better to have his back in this moment. Lucy would be great of course. But Wade is the superior in this moment so his 'back off ' holds more water. Gotta love this man. Always protects his people.

Wade can tell Pearson wants to have a slam dunk case against Tim. It’ll further his career to get such a high-ranking officer tangled in a dirty mess. It's why Grey tells him as such. Ugh. What a schmuck. Kudos to the actor though. I instantly dislike him so well done sir LOL The way Tim watches the body get wheeled away breaks my heart. Damnit Eric you’re too good at your job. Expressing so much in that look I just want to hug him. But that’s Lucy’s job later…

We join Celina officially moving in. This will be an interesting dynamic for s7. Especially after they get back together. I’ll be intrigued how that is all handled... But I’m getting way too ahead of myself. It's hard not to when we don’t know anything. It’s easy to daydream and speculate about the unknown. Anyways John is there and sadly not as a friend but to check in on Celina. She says he’s just making sure she’s not late for her shift.

Nolan commenting would reflect poorly on him and his performance review is coming up. Not selfish at all John….His review should be ‘Needs work.’ But we all know how I feel about him as a teacher. He asks Lucy how she is? I don’t think he expects the epic rant he receives. I mean she has healed some but not nearly enough. Her words sounding like she’s trying to convince herself. Makes me sad. Doing her best to flip all this upheaval into a good thing.

Our girl feels really lost in her life right now. All the turmoil that I don’t know she’s really dealt with. I think part of her having Celina move in is she doesn’t have to deal with it as much. To not have to be alone and sit in her feelings. Because I am the the same way. If left alone too long with my thoughts they eat at me. This scene just being more proof she hasn’t dealt with much of it at all IMO. I know the prevailing theory of the season for Lucy was she was alone. Isolated. I mentioned this in my mini too.

I think a lot of the isolating is self inflicted. Her and Tim are very alike in how they handle emotional distress. At an arms length and solo. Other than Jackson, Tim is the only one she’s really allowed close to her. Tamara yes but that's always been more maternal and not like what she has with Tim. And even him she doesn’t tell everything to and vice versa. It’s very in character for her to do this. I know people thinks because she’s bubbly, optimistic and outgoing this isn’t the case. But it is. Just like how people who are depressed don’t come off that way. When there a signs of it despite their ‘happy or sunny’ demeanor.

She was isolating herself before the breakup even occurred. Rewatching this season she was doing so from the very jump of s6. Their fight in 6x01 being proof of that isolation. She felt herself overloading and shoved him away with her accusation. That was just the start. 6x04 and her rash decisions with Jeff Budny is a huge one as well. She didn’t include the one person she should’ve in that ep. It's how we ended up in that hospital room with her. I’ve said this many times before. But her and Tim are quite alike in how they handle their emotions.

Tim’s is showcased more especially this season. It's easier to detect. If you're really looking you can see her's. Lucy’s were screaming through out this entire season as well. She is a control freak just like Tim in the way she shuts people out. Even her person couldn’t get in and vice versa. They have the same fatal flaw. It’s why their lack of communication became their downfall. Our girl has as much growing to do as Tim does. I’m hoping all this is a setup for s7 for her. To me her explosion here is an example of her not dealing fully with what happened still. Shall see how s7 is handled for her. I'm hopeful.

Their convo is interrupted by Angela calling Lucy. First off I love her looking out for Lucy. Just like she does with Tim. There was a great parallel set for this and 2x12. Angela providing comfort to them both when the other is in distress. Our on-screen cheerleader for them both and I love it sfm. Even knowing what a weird place they’re in, she knew Lucy would wanna know from her than anyone else. We love you Angela Lopez. You’re a real one.

She also knows Lucy well to tell her right off the bat he’s ok. You know her heart stopped when she began that sentence. We watch Lucy instantly go into wifey mode. Both in her body language and tone of voice as Angela explains. How she turns her back to the others when it’s about her person. Needing a moment to herself as she absorbs this information.

Melissa crushing it in this scene with everything she does. From closing her eyes taking in the severity of this situation. To the concerned wifey tone she switched to quickly. We all know she has a million and one thoughts rushing through her brain right now. Mainly was he ok? Does he need her? The worry for him settling into her soul and growing rapidly by time the call ends. Once Angela hangs up she finally turns around and updates them. Concern flooding her tone.

The wifey vibes continue when John gets a call shortly after. Tim has called him to be his union rep. (Only reason he would ever call Nolan in a personal matter...) We watch as anxiety all but pours out of Lucy. Worried wifey mode has activated and it’s not going away. Despite everything they’ve been through. Everything he’s done. Her number one instinct is worry and concern for him. It's deeply rooted. It's who she is.

She loves him so much still. That is written all over this scene and her reaction. That instinct to be there for him coursing through her like a powerful current. I love her stopping Nolan before he goes. The worry seeping out of her tone. Asking how he sounded? Nolan just replying ‘Tight.’ Which is apropos for Tim in situations such as this tbh. The reason she asked this was that she could gather everything she needed to know about his state of mind from that information alone.

When she hears Nolan’s reply her worry increases tenfold. Melissa is killing me in the best way in this scene. Props to her and Eric once again for this season. I can't praise them enough honestly. It hurt so much but hot damn if they weren’t giving their A game and more every single episode. Holy hell. Not that they don’t always. Just with such limited episodes they did really good with the material. Writing was superb for them. They rose to the occasion and then some.

Tim is so anxious waiting for Nolan it’s making me anxious. He is wound so damn tight right now. Not that I blame him but we can feel the anxiety just seeping out of him. The tapping of his feet, hands, and whole body is tense before Nolan arrives. He pops right up the minute John enters the room. He doesn’t look at all prepared for what Tim is about to thrown down at him.

Nolan tries to ask him questions but Tim doesn’t have time for it. Immediately let's him know what’s going on. That they’re going to want to hang this on someone. Now that Mad Dog is dead their scape goat is gone. All that is left is Tim. He’s STRESSED they’re going to hang this around his neck. That he needs Nolan to take over the investigation. I said this in my mini and I'll say it now.

My first thought was I don’t trust Nolan with this….That I wouldn’t have chosen him to spearhead this whole thing. But Tim doesn’t have a ton of options atm. So he’s gotta go with what he’s got. And that happens to be John Nolan right now. He asks Tim who to investigate? Tim tells him to look into Blair London the rookie police department shrink.

That he’s been seeing her and so has Aaron. That he thinks she had leverage on M.D. and that’s why he jumped. I wanna pause here and say how proud I am of Tim in this moment. Look at him reaching out for help this time. Not trying to quarterback this alone. Handling this completely differently than how he handled Ray. Not isolating himself and trying to figure this out solo. He’s going through the proper channels this time. Not wanting to do a OP and segregate himself from everyone.

To say it sucks Dr. London is dirty is an understatement. Because my greatest fear would be what she does in this episode. BUT I am forever grateful to her in the same vein. Because despite her being dirty she truly helped Tim in short time he had her. Look at the growth in this moment right now. I’ve said this many times already but I truly hope we continue his therapy journey. The results are astounding and I need more of this growth. It’s just like Chenford ship crack to me. Tim growth is my other drug of choice haha Give it to me writers LOL

We see Pearson is under Dr. London thumb. (Monica’s really) It leads up to this next scene that makes my blood boil. I hated watching this scene the first time and I didn’t love it any better second time around. It makes me sick to my stomach to watch unfold. How Pearson comes after Tim like a dog with a bone. The way he uses Dr. London to solidly his reasoning makes me all kinds of angry. I'm seeing red.

I HATE them using his sessions and twisting them for their own gain. It was like I said earlier this was my biggest fear of her being dirty. This right here. Gotta commend Danielle Campbell though. She does a really good job in this scene. Even though this was her idea you can see the conflict raging in her. Because she is the one who convinced Tim to go to therapy. For pure reasons actually. To help him out. Which she did. We know that’s why she’s under Monica thumb.

She used her need to help people against her. That she is only doing this because she is being coerced. Doesn’t excuse a damn thing, but explains her hesitation and almost tortured look in this scene. Especially when Pearson comes at Grey. Accusing him of favoritism. Saying he cares more about that than this city. You can see the restraint on Wade's face not to knock this punk out. How very dare you come at him and Tim like this. Makes me wanna rage so much.

This scene right here is why love Angela Lopez so much. That fiery passion she has for those she loves. How she is unwaveringly loyal to those she holds dear. Tim being that person in this moment. Not gonna lie that’s why I love this moment so much. Calling her husband. Love her of her life to chew him out to defend her brother. Her first instinct just like Lucy is to protect him.

To make sure if he’s charging Tim that she better know first. Hot damn Angela. Tell us how you really feel. haha This man is so lucky to have this fire ball in his corner phew lord. Telling Wes she stands by Tim a thousand percent. That he’s family. Ugh my heart. Gonna make me cry. I love their friendship so much. Give me more of them in s7. Their dynamic is fantastic and I need far more of it in my life.

We arrive at the best part of the episode. After nearly fifteen minutes filled with tension…We need this hug as much as these two do. My god. I adore her being so attuned to him. Lucy sees him and knows she needs to go to him. She can see how tense he looks. The clench in his jaw very evident. Her look damn near mirroring the worried look she had in 5x19. That same longing look to reach out to him surging through her. Worried Lucy is a fav of mine and we got to have that a lot in this episode.

This time she doesn't stop herself and we all love her for it. She worries about him, regardless of the state of their relationship. It’s what drives her to go after him before his elevator closes. That magnetic pull she can’t explain nor describe. All Lucy knows is she needs to be near him and comfort him. That even from afar she can tell he needs her. As I said earlier Lucy is so attuned to Tim and what he needs. It’s a beautiful thing to witness.

To say Tim is shocked when she keeps the elevator from closing is an understatement. Not only that but stopping it so they aren’t interrupted. Wanting to ensure they have a moment alone. Even when she says to be clear she’s still mad. That this doesn’t change anything. He’s still clueless as to what is going on here. You can see it all over his face above. He has zero idea why she is in here right now.

Because in his mind there is no way she’s thinking about him. Let alone wanting to be there for him in this moment. Which breaks my heart. The last thing he ever expected was for her to care for him. Or about him in any way shape or form. Also the 4x09 vibes coming off this hug had me losing my friggin mind. This hug is everything. It showcases their bond, the intimacy that still exists between them, the vulnerability has me reeling and how they are each other’s safe place still. *happy sigh*

The way she pulls him in reminiscent of the 4x09 hug. Tim standing there not expecting this moment of comfort and getting it. It’s the way she draws him into to hide in her arms. Just like she did in ‘Breakdown.’ I’m fine….Only difference in this hug from that one is the way he just melts into her arms. The face smoosh into her shoulder. Once again mirroring that infamous hug. We watch all that anxiety and stress just drain out of him. The tension he was carrying into the elevator leaving his body once he's in his happy place. Closing his eyes and surrendering to the comfort she brings him.

He immediately wraps his entire body around her. Melding into her. Easily falling into this hug and her arms. Like two puzzle pieces that are meant to be together. Fitting back together so effortlessly after time apart. Encasing her back in his hands and snuggling in for good measure. Clinging to her like she is his emotional life raft. Because. Well she is. Holding her as close as he physically can. Cherishing this moment. Because I’m sure he never thought he would experience this again. Holding her in his arms like this. Feel her comfort and love.

These two make me insane in the best way. Also let me once again point out Tim's growth. He didn’t even try to fight her like he’s done in the past. He sees this for the gift that it is and absorbs this moment. Savoring it really. The peace you can see on his face floors me. Eric at it again. You can tell this is first time in long time he’s felt whole. This hug is beautiful on some many levels. You can feel the raw emotion coming out of them both.

The concern that’s been building up in Lucy since this morning coming out in waves. She is tucked in TIGHT to him. Clinging to him as much as he is clinging to her. I'm not ok. You can hear the immense worry in her voice as she asks him if he’s ok? Despite everything she felt the draw to be there for him. The way she looks like she can finally breathe as she asks him that question is EVERYTHING.

We get some good hands hands hands in this hug. I can’t stop staring at her thumbs in that gif either. The soothing way she is running her thumbs up and down on his back and arm. Methodical in her soothing of him. Gah I cannot you guys. Her remarkable empathy shines through in this moment. This was a balm my soul needed so much. That all of us needed. We all know how much our boy longed for this.

Can't get over her face pressed so tightly into his neck. Doing this, as she asks him what she’s been dying to since she received that phone call. Like she couldn’t breathe until she knew the answer to this question. Look at the concern on her face when she does. I’m reeling and sobbing. Lucy looks on the verge of tears herself. Their hearts are just starting to mend in this glorious hug. You can feel it. Ours too.

No one does hugs like our ship does. They’re always top tier goodness. Holy hell. They’re just breathing each other in. Calming one another down. The anxiety that was raging in both of them cooling down to a simmer in this embrace. He has melted into her like butter at this point. Reveling in the comfort and empathy she's providing him. The way he says ‘I am now.’ Reminiscent of 5x21 and their phone call in the alley. How he wasn’t ok till he heard her voice.

Song remains the same in this moment. He wasn’t ok until now. Until she had her arms wrapped around him for this hug. Didn’t know he was holding his breath till she released it for him. It’s how he sways with her and sinks even further into her arms. Smooshing his face even farther into her shoulder. It’s so sincere his reply back that I am just a puddle of emotion. He’s so vulnerable in this moment with her.

Letting her know he wasn't ok until she was there. Imma scream at how much I love this growth in him. If there was any more doubt in Lucy’s mind of his feelings for her, this hug and his reaction to it should clear that right up. That is a man who is still so in love with her. Letting her know he wasn’t alright until she came and found him. I’m not crying you are…. Find you a person who knows what you need when you need it. Even when you’re not in the best place. That’s Lucy Chen for this man. Reigniting him falling in love with her all over again in this moment.

Lucy picking up on this growth reflects in her reaction back. Gah it’s the way she tightens her arms around him after she hears this. Closes her eyes and tries to bring him even closer. Trying to wrap him up in her arms even tighter. Absorb any stress he is carrying right now. The sheer relief written all her face. The way she shuts her eyes knowing he’s ok because she is there. *sobs*

Just melting into this man as she holds him as close as she can. Clinging to him as much as he is to her. I’m not ok in the best way. I remember thinking this hug would feed my soul into the hiatus. Just gonna scream into a pillow how much I love this moment. Their chemistry is insane and with a hug? Even more so my god. We are blessed to have a ship where our hugs are this amazing.

I love this faraway shot of their hug. They are in-sync as they part. How do they do that? We can see how deeply entangled they are. Nary an inch between them. You can see how they were just clinging onto each other for dear life. Look at Tim’s arms/hands. How gentle and intimate his are placed.

Having her as close as he can. It’s the hand gently wrapped around her lower back that has me losing it. It’s just so intimate I can’t get over it. Lucy is retuning the favor in kind. She too is just as intertwined as he is in this moment. Arms clinging to him and her face buried in his neck. Their chemistry on massive display here.

You’d think the hug alone would be enough to make me squee to death. Lucy follows it up with fixing his collar. I’m dead. The most wifey move of all moves. Reminded me of the lint picking from 5x12. Such an intimate coupley thing to do. I’m losing my damn mind over it. Wife energy coming off her in waves. Just seemed so automatic and natural when they part.

Also she touches her arm before reopening the door. She can’t keep her hands off him and I’m here for it. Tim looks like he’s going to cry in that elevator. I also love Tim putting his hands in his pockets right after. Because if he doesn’t he’ll never let her go. They’ll never get off this elevator. He could've stayed in that hug all day.

Basked in the comfort she had to give him. So he puts his hands immediately in his pockets after they part. Ugh my heart. They miss each other so much and this hug is screaming that. Also screaming how they didn’t miss a beat. How natural and wonderful it was. *happy sigh* This hug giving me true hope for the first time.

They re-open elevator to find Angela and Harper waiting for them. They look like they’ve been caught. Like they didn’t just have this deeply emotional embrace. The looks they share before Lucy leaves are LOADED. The expression on Angela’s face... She knows they interrupted something. I adore her saying she can get him extradited if he needs it. Love this woman so much. We know just like Lucy she is willing to do anything for this man.

Makes my heart so happy. All these women in his life want is to support and protect him. You can tell Angela wants to be tagged in so badly. Tim telling her won’t be necessary. He didn’t do anything wrong. That she had his back last time. He has different forces at play this time. Adore her saying 'Different isn’t me.’ Not it’s not ha Sadly last of Tim for this ep. *pouts*

Another telling scene for Lucy. Really really need s7 to clear these things up for her. Because despite being wonderfully empathetic human to Tim. She is still lost in life and not sure who she is. I NEED UC and some other things clarified for her next season. I really do. Just because she’s amazing at UC (and she is) doesn’t mean it’s her path. I do love this scene because it’s just Lucy being Lucy.

Having EIGHT covers ready to go. Our little nerd in action here. I adore it so much. It’s the most Lucy Chen thing she could do. Telling them it takes twelve off duty hours to grow. I love her so much. It’s not a mystery why Tim is so damn gone for her. Their faces as she explains cracks me up. Tim wouldn’t be shocked in the least. Hell I’m sure he was there while she was growing some of them.

The detective line is just another stab at our hearts though. Hoping for clarification and goodness for her career in s7. Manifesting it. As much as I need their reconciliation.(and I need it bad) I need her path resolved just as much tbh. For her to find her purpose and grow. Because once her and Tim do this. That reconciliation is gonna be even sweeter because of it.

I will say I was impressed with Nolan. Enjoy this it won’t last ha He handled investigating Blair really well. Rattling the cages of the potential dirty cops she was seeing just by showing up to her office. I forgot seasons 1-2 Nolan was a good cop. He just got really annoying after s3. LOL Also roping Smitty in was hilarious. He was already there for the food so might as well use him.

It’s the first time in what feels like a long time I enjoyed John. He enlists Nell too to help him with data from dispatch. Maybe it’s Bailey that makes him extra irritating to me. Lmao Sorry Jenna....lol Anyways quite the miracle Nolan pulled off in this ep getting me to like him. Not only that but commend him on the job he’s doing. Helping out Tim in a major way and I can’t deny that.

Nolan’s plan works out like gang busters. He went to her office to rattle a dirty cop into revealing himself. Pearson does it perfectly. Losing his mind about finding out they were in Mad Dog's apt. Like I said earlier I commend John on his work in this. Had Tim’s back and then some with his investigation. If they wrote him like this more wouldn’t dog on him so much lol

The other part that is so great is Grey. He is a papa bear ready to devour anyone messing with his work kids. This part was so cathartic to watch after earlier. Watching him dismantle Pearson like the schmuck he is. Was sick of him stomping around the station. Acting like he can just be top dog when he's really on a leash.

Rubbed me the wrong way being disrespectful to Tim and threatening Wade. Watching him attack Nolan/Celina is Grey's final straw. Puts that turd in his place. We watch him visibly shrink as Grey tears him a new asshole LOL All but telling him to stay in his own lane. Get em’ Wade! Nolan putting together the connection of Pearson and Blair due to this. Was fun to watch them piece this together.

Scenes like this give me agita like no other. My heart was beating in my chest for her. Lucy did a really good job despite the toy. Unfortunately it’s one of those loud musical ones. That not only gives away her position. But possibly her cover in the process. He find it’s on the floor. Looking menacing af. This man gives me the creeps on so many levels. I hated this mission for her on so many levels.

Unfortunately they’ll need her going back into the house. Now that Monica is in play it’s crucial she is there. Especially with Batista investigating who tried to kill her. Lucy is worried they’re going to blow her cover faster with her involved…But it’s a risk they have to take. If Tim knew about this he would be feral. Oh Feral Tim how I miss you. I need more 2x11 feral Tim in my life. That's a wishlist for s7 I suppose.

The ep ends with Nolan making a deal I’m not sure he can make lol But he was good in this episode so I’ll give him a pass. You can see how panicked she is. I am impressed John got her on this bench I will say. Getting her to almost spill her guts to him. Saying she didn’t think anyone would get hurt. That's what they all say....

I will say I missed Tim a lot in this ep after he was gone. That's my man. But it was a good episode. Reminded me of what a good ensemble cast we have as a whole. That's all she wrote for this one.

As always thank you to everyone for reading, liking, commenting and reblogging these means more than you’ll ever know. Shall see you all in the finale with 6x10 :)

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

We get more insight in how Dr. London is being leveraged. Of course it’s a Monica connection because she is the absolute worst….

It’s great to see Pearson get nailed to the wall at the end of the ep. Prick.

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innerfare · 3 hours

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Blue Balls - Eustass Kid: Part 2

Summary: Captain Kid takes care of his blue balls; text below the cut

Pairing: Eustass Kid x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: penetrative sex, dom Kid, sex on the deck of the Victoria Punk

Word Count: 1,591

For a moment, Kid stood there in the alleyway with his dick in his hands- quite literally. His cock and balls throbbed, ached like he hadn’t fucked you in weeks despite you two having had sex two days ago. Of course, two days was a very long time for the two of you, and Kid had to wonder if that was part of your plan.

He stuffed his cock back into his pants and zipped them up. He gritted his teeth, thinking he could kill a man as he took off after you, the chore of running made so much more difficult by his heavy balls. As he ran, he thought of all the ways he was going to fuck you, all the ways he was going to have you crying beneath him, begging for the release you had denied him.

The edges of his vision were red and blurry, and he had so much pent up energy he knew he’s start a fight with anyone who stepped between him and the Victoria Punk. Luckily, nobody did, and he caught up to you on the deck of the ship.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and swung you around, grinning as you screamed. You wiggled in his grasp and kicked your feet in an attempt to get away, but he didn’t loosen his grip for even a second, knowing damn well you would take off again and leave him to deal with his problem himself.

“Kid, put me down.”

He refused, holding you off the ground with ease.

“You didn’t actually think you could outrun me, did you, spider?”

“I thought I could at least find a hiding place before you caught up to me,” you admitted, still struggling to break free. Your chest heaved from the run to the ship.

His chest heaved, too, his heart hammering not just from sprinting the distance from the alleyway to the ship but also from the hormones working their way through his body. The pressure between his legs was almost painful. “I can’t believe you just made me run half a mile with a fucking erection.”

“I’m sorry, Captain.” You didn’t sound very sorry. “Let’s go back to your cabin, and I’ll make it up to you.”

“Fuck that.” He set you back on your feet but kept his vice grip on you, holding your back flush against his bare abdomen. “You wanna play games, I’ll play games.”

“Kid-”

“I’m gonna fuck you right here on deck,” he growled in your ear, “and if the crew gets back, they’re gonna watch.”

Your eyes widened. “Kid!”

He clamped his hand over your mouth and pressed his erection into your lower back.

“What’s wrong, spider? Don’t want them to see you get fucked like a little whore? As if they don’t already know the nasty things I do to you every night. I’m sure they’ve gotten off to the sound of your moans before. Please, daddy, cum balls deep inside me,” he mocked.

You wanted to call him an asshole.

Instead, you whimpered. “Kid, we can’t do this on deck.”

“Of course we can.” He yanked your shirt up, relinquishing his grip on you only as long as it took to pull the garment over your head, exposing your breasts in the night. He squeezed one of your breasts and let out a low sigh of relief. He pressed his erection into you harder and groaned. “We can do whatever we want.”

“Kid-”

“It’s my ship,” he interrupted. “I’m the Captain. You’re not gonna tell me what I can and can’t do on my ship. Now, how about you do something with that pretty little mouth that doesn’t involve lying or complaining.” Keeping his metal arm wrapped tight around your midsection, he shoved his fingers into your mouth. “When you told me you weren’t in the mood last night, and again this morning, was that part of your little plan?” He rutted into you when he thought of the morning wood he’d woken up with. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, thinking you can tease me. I’m in charge, remember?”

You tried to say something but only moans spilled out of your mouth as he fucked it with his fingers, saliva running down your chin. With your breasts exposed, your nipples erect from the chilly night air, Kid’s threat of the crew coming back and catching you in such a vulnerable, compromising position seemed all too real. And it only made you wetter.

You tried grinding against his erection, but the height difference made it such that you could only hump his thigh, not that you minded. Kid had the best thighs, thick and muscular, and he let you get yourself off on them all the time. But that night, he pulled away.

“You’re not off the hook just yet.” He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, but the break lasted only a few seconds, because then he was shoving his hand between your legs and getting a feel for the wetness you had denied him back in the alleyway. “For fuck’s sake, you’re creaming. But I guess it’s easy for you to play games since you don’t have to deal with fucking blue balls.”

“It’s not easy,” you whined, hands latching onto his forearm. “I was just playing around a little bit.”

Kid stroked your wet folds, but just as he pushed a dinger into your leaking hole, he felt the rubber band in his belly start to snap and pulled back to keep from cumming. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” His blood pressure was through the roof, and he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of him cumming before he even got his cock in you.

“Do what? Tease me?” You couldn’t keep from smiling, knowing full well he was right at the edge and couldn’t drag things out the way you could. “I’m sure you can manage, daddy.”

With a growl, he spun you around and picked you up, pushing you into the mast. He held you easily in his metal arm, the hand digging into your skin in case you got any ideas. “I was gonna be nice and finger you first, but I guess you’re just gonna have to take daddy’s big cock without any prep. You can manage, can’t you?”

He pulled his throbbing cock out of his pants for the second time that night and lined it up with your entrance, not even bothering to discard your skirt.

“Of course I can- fuck.” You bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out as he pushed his cock all the way into you. The length was a lot to take, but it was the width that made your eyes sting with tears. But you refused to tap out, digging your nails into his back and crying out but taking what he gave you.

“I think you owe me an apology.” He pulled all the way out and pushed back in, his breathing shallow from the effort it took not to cum right then. His balls were throbbing so hard he thought they might fall off, but he was determined to get that smugness out of your system.

You opened your mouth to say something, but as you did, he began thrusting regularly. He fucked in and out of you, the pronounced head of his cock coming to your entrance with each pull and then kissing your cervix with each push, Kid’s hips snapping against mercilessly yours.

“Say it, or I’ll tie you naked to the mast for the crew to find.”

“Kid.” You cried into his shoulder, thoughts completely scattered from him fucking you.

“What was that?”

“Daddy. Daddy.” You held onto him like your life depended on it, not even noticing the way his metal arm cut into your skin, undoubtedly leaving scrapes and bruises for you to find in the morning. Checking yourself for marks the mooring after was one of your favorite parts of being with Captain Kid, though.

“You owe daddy an apology,” he grunted in your ear.

“I’m… s-s-sorry.”

“What was that?”

“I s-s-said…” It was all you could do to hold on tight as he pounded into you. The amount of slickness between your legs would have been humiliating had you had the wherewithal to feel embarrassed. But he had fucked you dumb, and in under five minutes. “I’m… s-sorry.”

“Not good enough.”

“I’m sorry, daddy.” The tension between your legs reached its peak, and your orgasm washed over you. You clenched painfully hard on his cock, but Kid didn’t relent, not even for a second. In fact, he began fucking you harder and sloppier.

“You wanna act like a little whore, you’re gonna get fucked like a little whore.” He wrapped his fingers around your pretty throat and squeezed. “What do you think the crew would say if they saw this? Do you think they’d feel bad for you? I bet they’d be able to tell how much you’re enjoying it.” With that, the rubber band in his belly snapped, and he reached his climax. He thrust into you a few more times, pushing his hot load as deep as he could get it, pleased to know it would be seeping out of you for the rest of the night.

“I’m sorry I teased you,” you panted, placing a hand on his cheek. “But I can’t promise it won’t happen again if that’s the punishment.”

Kid grinned and kissed you.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece smut #eustass kid #eustass kidd #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass #eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass kidd x reader #eustass kid smut #captain kid smut #captain Kidd smut #captain kid #captain kidd #eustass Kidd smut

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cleo-writes · 2 days

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Hunter noceda dating hcs !!

A/n: I only watched the episodes with hunter in this bc I didn't feel like re watching the entire thing for the 3rd time

Warnings: a little rushed bc the first draft got deleted :(

Enjoy!

Okay

So hunter.

Gods he is so sweet

He's head over heels in love with you

From the moment he first saw you

He knew he was doomed

Mostly because the emperors coven has things against relationships

(In my personal hc don't hurt me)

Especially with wild witches

And also because he thought you were too good for him

And he is so scared of disobeying belos

(He doesn't wanna get hurt again.)

Especially with him already hiding flapjack

And he's head over heels in love with you

When he does his rebel thingy

Like after he goes into belos' mind

He goes to you

Whether you're a wild witch, a witch in a coven, a demon/monster, or in the emperors coven and worked alongside him

He's coming to you

Shaking, crying, unable to speak from the realizations he's come to

You try calming him down

Eventually it does work but he passes out in your arms eventually

Anyways

Hunter is like a lost puppy dog

Always at your heels

He's following you everywhere

Can't find hunter?

Go find yn he's with them

And if he's not with you

(Which is very rare)

He's either under a tree reading

It's probably about his special interest at the time

Wolves, wild witches/history of ye olde magic and witches

(Bc let's be honest this boy is autistic)

(We love him dearly tho)

Or he's carving palismen for new witches

(If it's set post-basically everything)

He's such a gentleman

Opening doors for you, being oh so polite

He does that little standing thing before you sit down at the table

Even is it's in a booth at a resturant

Or dinner at Camilas

He's also such a romantic

Luz or Camila probably showed him a bunch of cheesy romance movies

And he probably found a few books too

He reads/watches those like the holy scripture of winning you over

Bringing you roses because he thinks those are the most romantic

Picnic dates, fancy restaurants

Slowly leaning in to kiss like the lady and the tramp

Then poof

He's back in the real world.

He daydreams so much about you

It's almost weird

if he did confess the way he wanted to

He would make that little trail of rose petals,

Leading to a picnic with candles and fairy lights

(Guys idk shit abt romance is this good)

And he asks you to be his bf/gf/s.o without stuttering and in the cutest most romantic way possible

That's not how it happens tho

It's probably when ur really stressed with something

And you're annoyed at every little thing,

every noise that's made within 50 feet of you I'd unbearable

He slowly walks into ur room/workspace

"Yn...?"

"What?!"

He's on the verge of tears at your tone

It reminds him of belos when he was angry with him

He gets through it anyway

"I um... I like you ...? I-i ..I like you a lot like–like... I like you, yn."

"Oh titan, hunter..."

Of course you say you have the same feelings for him

You have to reassure this baby that it's okay and your sorry for snapping a little

Cuz he was about to cry

Anyways once you guys are in a relationship

He's really really touchy

But also flinching at every small touch

You have to take it really slow with him

Asking for consent everytime you hold his hand or to hug him

Eventually he warms up to you

Expect hugs from behind

A lot.

All the time.

Every minute.

He loves hugging you

And he loves cuddling you

So so so much

Nuzzling into your neck with happy, content sighs, laying on your stomach

I think he would love just. Rubbing his face on every part of your body

Seems kinda weird but it makes sense in my head

he's just a little guy‼️

I would say it's a wolf thing that he picked up on while reading but idk if that's true

Anyways he loves you so much

Give him reassurance often

(Take care of him or else🔫)

Mini taglist:

@thementallyillapollochild @daonedaonlyskh

if you want to be added or removed lemme know !!

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ectoplasmer · 1 year

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guess who is being clinically unwell over yb and technically tkb again haha it’s meeee *SOBBING*

#i ran into the drawing refs for baby tkb. i cried #HE WAS SO SMALL :( IT’S SO UPSETTING :((#i know it’s like a Needed that he is traumatized because he is a ygo character but #man. he was just a kid. he watched everything happen :(#and i just can’t get over how after three millennia he still isn’t able to avenge them. he spends his whole life trying to and he still-#-couldn’t. he just gets ultimately destroyed or whatever #makes a pact with the literal darkness just to try and avenge his village even when it would shroud the whole earth in darkness or whatever #still couldn’t. still couldn’t make up for the loss of his family. still couldn’t get back at the pharaoh.#still couldn’t live up to what they wanted for him #just. loses himself to his vengeance and never comes back from it #don’t get me started on how the spirits of kul elna tried to protect him and literally shield him from harm i will start Crying #not that i am not already close to that >_>#everything about anything he’s been through just makes me so sad :(#i hate how much it is just dismissed in canon #i wanna hold him and make him know how much i care about it #how much i think about all he’s been through #how i probably get more visibly upset over it than he does… /hj #i would say i want to protect him but i don’t think he needs protecting #he’s strong and he’s made it this far and i’m proud of him for that but also sob crying IT’S STILL BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH HE’S BEEN THROUGH…#agajshdkxn holding him kissing him etc etc i’m an absolute fool over this man #he makes me so sad and so happy at the same time :( i love him so much…..#sorry brain worms are strong today #a thief after my own heart #four of spades

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coulrology · 5 months

Note

So what's the lore with Juniper n their relationship with Vitimir n Hettie?

WELL for both, their relationships go back to their school days! Although the difference being that Juniper and Hettie went to St. Epiderm together, while Vitimir went to a different school (Glandus at the time he met Juniper).

I’ve briefly touched on how Juniper and Vitimir met here, so that explains their first meeting. To reiterate, Vitimir was a shy kid that didn’t really have any friends growing up (aside from bugs/whatever little creatures they spent their time around) and was bullied frequently, so that single positive interaction with Juniper, though small, really stuck with him and he never forgot it. Juniper didn’t forget it either, but being the sociable type meeting and talking to lots of different people, that moment sorta blended in with the rest of their memories. So fast forward to them both working as Coven Heads at the same time, Vitimir immediately recognizes Juniper. Despite Juniper changing a lot since his child self, that one good memory left such a big impact on Vitimir as a kid that he still held that soft spot for them. So of course, when Juniper eventually approached him on their own time, Vitimir already had this layer of vulnerability. Even though they might not have recognized him, from Vitimir’s perspective, there was that sense of familiarity and comfort; Juniper might have changed, but that kind kid was still in him. Now that they have the chance, Vitimir wants to actually get to know this one person who had plagued so many of their thoughts as a kid. And the rest is history!!

As for Hettie! Again, she and Juniper attended St. Epiderm together. Hettie was just as terrifying as a kid as she is now. She was everything- a jock, a princess, a bully, a weird girl, whatever you can think of. Though she’s very open about who she is, everyone around her was always so intimidated by the fact that she was unpredictable (and the fact that she’s both the smartest AND strongest person you’d ever meet is terrifying enough on its own). Most everyone- except for Juniper. To Juniper, Hettie was always such a character. She’s always been so confident and unapologetic, able to command people’s attention without even saying a word. Her unpredictability made everything she did so interesting. Juniper so deeply admired this about Hettie. And the fact that she’s 100% his type only drew them closer to her. Hettie was Juniper’s first ever crush, and that love Juniper had for her never faded. Though as kids, they weren’t in the same social circles, they did cross paths a lot, whether it was through Sonia (Scooter Crane’s daughter and childhood best friend to Juniper, who was also in the Healing Track), or Juniper getting injured for whatever ridiculous reasons. At this age, Hettie didn’t reciprocate her feelings (yet), but she had a fondness for Juniper because he was so different from the other kids for the fact alone that they had a (very obvious) crush on her. And while their crush may have caused them to do embarrassing things, and foolishly being used as her own guinea pig from time to time to practice her magic on, Hettie had cared about Juniper. To her, he always made life more fun and interesting. Fast forward to them as Coven Heads- Hettie has grown a stronger affection for Juniper. He’s changed over the years, but he still makes life so much more fun and interesting. Perhaps now, Hettie admires Juniper for the same exact reasons they always have her. They’re still a bit pathetic around her, but Hettie finds it endearing. Not to mention, Juniper still makes for a good doll to experiment on, and she takes good care of her favorite dolls ;-)

#ask #juniper jazz #vitimir #hettie cutburn #junimir #medical mirror #I HOPE THIS ANSWERS YOUR QUESTION I tried my best to make it sound coherent and not ramble on about certain things 🙏#tried to talk about hettie more bc i don’t think I’ve explained much of the medical mirror stuff publicly yet #or. anything tbh 😭😭#BUT I MEAN I GOTTA GET EVERYONE ON THE SAME PAGE EVENTUALLY SO THIS IS A START 🙏🙏#I can always expand on anything else if anyone wants me to and is curious :3c #you KNOW how much I love yapping about my stupid peacock I didn’t put all my blood sweat and tears into him for nothin 🫰#ALSO!! FUN LIL THING I WAS GOING TO MENTION BUT DECIDED NOT TO IN THE END BC IT WOULDVE BEEN TOO MUCH-#long story short lets just say hettie chose to hang out w juniper during the night of a school dance 🤭#THAT’S ALL I’LL SAY FOR NOW ABOUT THAT i have Art Ideas for that i -really- want to get to one day #okay i gotta stfu now i told myself i was gonna hold back on the yapping 😭😭😭#OKAY WAIT ONE LAST THING-#idk if anyone actually cares but reminder that I’ve got both junimir and med. mirror playlists if you wanna get a better idea of them!!#theyre not perfect but theyre still fun Okay I’ll shut up for real fr now ✌️

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sunbedo · 4 months

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Hey guys. gay rights

#i already made the sonic one a while bc yknow. kinnie stuff youve all seen my blog theme #but then i was wearing my Fearless Year of Shadow(tm) shirt along with it and my irl bff was like.#'why are you wearing a sonic bracelet with that shirt if you love shadow so much 🤨' *#(he doesnt know much about sth stuff but ive infodumped abt shadow and his backstory to him many times)#and i was like 😭😭 BECAUSE I DONT HAVW A SHADOW KANDI BUT I WANNA MAKE ONE. I WILL SOON #so. now i do!! taking my ad/derall on the weekends always make me want to make more kandi. its great!#and yknow what else it makes me want to do...... talk more on here >:3333 #me and my dad are gonna go to a local jazz festival this afternoon bc our jazz combo is playing at it!!#itll be fun. my dad said hes gonna get some food from this really good breakfast place on the way thwre #which is not the best part. the best part is outside the shop there is a wonderful kitty cat who hangs around the parking lot #bc hes owned by the ppl who own the bar right next door #its so great. everybody knows him (the cat) and loves him. the v/ape shop next door has a tip door set up for him even though the #bar owner ppl take care of him and take him to the vet nd stuff. my dad found a faceb/ook page somebody made for him #and apparently it just has pictures of ppl at the bar holding him. its so great and hilarious. this cat is so loved #by the v/ape shop people. by random people at this beachtown bar. by the breakfast shop people.#anyways uh. this post was abkut kandi wasnt it 😭😭😭 lol #cherry chortles #anyways the add/er/all also usually makes me want to look at and sort through my pkmn card collection. so imma do that #because my dads friend (and my friend too i guess! me and him exchange cat photos bc he has this adorable chunky cat named gremlin) that we #play bar trivia with on tuesdays (dw its not really even a bar. its mostly a restaurant) asked me abt my pokemon card collection #bc the final question was to put a few franchises (it was like. dora the ecplora and spide/rman etc. and pokemon) in order of revenue #and obvs pokemon was the top. bc of factors like the trading cards so thats how that came up #we didnt bet any of our points btw but we almost! got it right! the order was pk/mn dora spidamen friends (the tv seies) but we had spidman #as second. but we still won!! our team is on a two game winning streak!!! we always split the money so next week ill get another 8 dolla >:3 #wow i havent hit tag limit yert #lol. yall'll open the 'see all tags' thing and boom. do you love the color of the sky type shit 😭😭😭#sorry that sounds too much like aave. i (white baby) cant be sayin that #cherrys kandi #okay well i had a tag with a verse from the ultimarw showdown bc i didnt know what else to say #but with my kandi tag and these two tags i have hit tag limit. thank you folks ill be here all night

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jervis-tetch-my-beloved · 2 years

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I really wanna cuddle arkhamverse jervis so goddamn bad

#.🤍🎩🍰#he’s so adorable I want to hold his hands and squish his cheeks #I wanna snuggle my face into his neck and lay in his lap #I really want to let him know how much I love him and how much I care about him and how loved he is #he deserves the world. and I can give it to him #I really wanna give it to him. to make sure he knows he’s loved #okay well sorry for ranting

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celestie0 · 22 days

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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

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

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

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

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

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

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

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

➸ masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

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

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

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

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for no flirting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Bros.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly.

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He feels like throwing up.

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

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

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

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

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

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

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think about fucking you all the time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10:34am you: do it then

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

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

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

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

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

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

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

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

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

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

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

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

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—” He stops himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[the end]

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

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joelsgoldrush · 2 months

Text

“GUILTY PLEASURE” | 8.6k

logan howlett x fem!reader

“I want this like a cigarette / Can we drag it out and never quit?” Guilty Pleasure by Chappell Roan

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader, reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes, age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, soft dom!logan, wade being the funniest asshole, logan calls reader "kiddo/kid"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you.

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.”

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend.

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison

Allison:

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss.

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.”

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features.

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules.

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up.

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail.

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients.

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment.

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you.

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him.

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his.

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic.

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on.

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?”

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days.

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble.

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

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oreo-creampie · 11 months

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: quiet nerd!pleasure dom!choso, heavy praise/light degradation, dacryphilia, choso has a size kink, choso’s pov, oral (giving and receiving), knife play/no blood, light pain kink, pussy drunk/obsessed choso, squirting, fingering, light begging, light choking

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @vampress7; Hi baby girl I hope you’re doing well, I have an idea: nerdy, loner, and unassuming freak choso who absolutely wrecks reader after class during a study session ((I need this so badly))

‘He is wearing those sweat pants, I keep sneaking glances at his cock, I wanna see it. No need to see it, I'm dying of thirst! He can feed me his cum! I don't really care much for giving blow jobs but something about Choso makes me wanna gobble his cock till he is a whiny mess.’

‘Damn ily but you’re down too bad for a man you haven't even touched.’

‘I cant help it! Have you seen Choso?! I want to hear how he sounds when he cums.’

‘Aren’t yall supposed to study for friday’s exam you can’t fail this one!’

Writen in your text bar; ‘its hard to focus on what he’s saying. Choso’s thick arms in his black muscle t-shirt’

Choso’s cheeks are burning, his ego swelling, nerves churning, and disbelief whispering. Sliding his fingers through his hair, there is no denying you want him.

Glancing down at his cock, perfectly outlined by his thin sweats. His cock is getting warmer, longer, and thicker with each soft pulse. If you want his cock, you can have it any way you’re willing to take it.

You come back holding the fuzzy stripped criminal. “He broke my lamp, got it cleaned up but he’s ground.” You bend over for Jasper to jump to the floor, running away from you with his fluffy tail in the air.

Your shorts rising up your soft ass. “I’d hit ya from the back if I didn't want to see the face you make when you take my fat cock first the first time.” Your beautiful eyes widen, locking onto your phone in his hands.

Grabbing his hard cock, stroking himself through his sweats. You glance down. “Im torn between wanting to fuck that bratty mouth outta ya and eating you out till you’re trembling.” Your mouth looks so sweet and fuckable. You’d look so beautiful sucking his cock with tears running down your face.

“For me to be a good teacher I need to help you focus. If I help you cum will you pay attention more. We can snuggle while we study.” Holding your phone out for you to grab. Quickly discarding it on the coffee table.

His heart beating faster when you get on your knees in front of him. “If you were paying attention to the text then you’d know,” tugging his sweatpants down, “I won't be able to pay attention until I hear what sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

Moaning when you grab his cock, your hand soft, in your hand his cock has never looked so big before. “You can hear me moaning in your soft cunt. I don't think you understand nnn!” Loudly moaning when you take his cock into your hot wet mouth.

Bobbing your head, taking him deeper with slow strokes soothing the uncomfortable tighteness building in his of his cock. “Honeybun I jerked off to the thought of eating you out before comin’.” Cupping your cheek, jerking hips fucking your soft wet mouth.

“Been slutting you out in my head since ya walked into class.” Choso leans his head back, sliding his fingers through his soft dark hair. “We can do both, Im dying to taste ya sloppy cunt. I'll gag you with my fat cock nnnn oh fuck that’s iiittt! Grabbing a handful of your hair, fucking your soft mouth till spit is dripping down your chin.

Choso is getting off on your beautiful eyes sparkling with tears that trickle down your cheeks. “Are ya gonna be my whore help me take care of my fat cock?” Pulling you off his cock with a soft pop. His too heavy to stand up, hitting his cock.

Grabbing his cock, smacking his tip on your lips. “Wish it stood up, but what can ya do?” He knees wobble when you cup his balls. Lovingly kissing along his cock, easing the ache and tension, with sweet soft pleasure.

Your hand feels so good, his cock softly tingling. Smiling up at him. He can feel his heartbeat in the quickly pulse of his cock. “You’re so perfectly thick and heavy that you hang, nothing wrong with that handsome.” Licking up his cock, swirling your tongue around his fat head. He groans when watches himself slip inside.

Letting go of your hair, slipping his hands beneath your shoulders. Picking you up, you wrap your soft thighs around his waist. He feels strong holding you close, keeping you safe. “Gonna take good care of you, and your sloppy cunt.”

Squeezing your ass, carrying you with one hand. You grab a handful of his hair, and a tingle shoots down his spine when he feels your nails. “Bedroom is the last room on the right.” Taking you down the hall. “Please all I want is you. Wanna be your whore, ruin anyone else for me with your fat cock.” Trailing loving kissing along his jaw, his cheeks burning.

Opening and shutting the door behind himself. “Ill show you how badly I've been needing ya.” Gently setting you down, closing your curtains. Taking his shirt off, dropping it on the floor.

You’re making quick work of taking your shirt and shorts off. Admiring your beautiful body Choso forgets everything he’s doing. You give him one thought when you spread your legs showing him your soft wet cunt.

He needs to make you cum.

Kneeling, grabbing your soft thighs putting them over his shoulder. “So so so beautiful.” Kissing your soft clit, gently sucking, steadily stroking you with his tongue. Making sure his barbell rubs your clit with his swipe.

Nudging a thick finger into your tight cunt. You’re perfectly soft and wet, clenching his finger. Slowly pumping his finger, he’s going to find your g-spot. Clenching his head with your soft thighs. Grabbing his hair tugging, he groans from the sweet pain.

Focusing on your sweet spot. Taking pride in how easily you tremble because of his tongue and finger.

“They say the quiet ones are freaky, what about you? What do you think about when you're touching yourself?” Choso doesn't want to take his face out from between your legs. He’s found heaven, but he can't ignore your question.

Rising up, causing you to fall on your back, your legs over his broad shoulders. His cock hangs, his tip lightly grazing your soft, wet cunt. “Wanna take you to mine, get you high, give you a safe word,” trapping your head in between his hands, “tie you up, drag a knife across your skin, see you squirm, help you cum, hear you cry and beg to be my sweet little whore.”

His cock aches from having you folded up beneath him. “I wouldn’t mind trying some freak shit, get a knife from the kitchen.” Kissing your forehead, cheeks, and soft cunt. Carefully slipping your legs off his shoulders.

Choso is quick to grab a large knife from your kitchen.

Leaning over you, “Safe word is red.” Lining his cock with your soft cunt, rolling his hip. Dragging the knife up your side, gently kissing your soft lips. Groaning, grinding his thick cock on your sloppy cunt.

Squeezing your neck, pinning your hips with his, keeping you from squirming too much. Slipping his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss. You’re so needy, and desperate, digging your nails into his back.

Loosening his grasp on your neck. “Ya good sweetheart?” Dragging the knife over your soft nipple, pulling his cock away. You’re so sexy, stuffing two thick fingers in your sweet cunt. “You’re getting so sloppy for me.” Curling his fingers, remember where your sweet spot is.

Smirking with pride when you moan, “Chooo please please please!” Gliding the knife down your stomach. Marveling at how you squirm, your cunt getting so tight around his thick fingers.

Your cunt’s lips and puffy clit wet, soft and beautiful. “I’m obsessed with how sexy you are begging’ for me, clenching my fingers.” Pressing the side of the knife to your clit, lightly rubbing your clit.

“I’ve been waiting long enough please please fuck me. Need to feel your fat cock in my cunt!” Choso’s cheeks burn with how you’re looking at him. He wants to remember the look of adoration, lust and pleasure on your beautiful face forever.

Lifting the knife off your clit, kissing her. “I didn’t prep ya enough yet sweetheart.” Dragging the knife along your thigh, adding more pressure than before testing what limits you have.

Stroking your clit with his thumb. “Nnnn oh fuck.” Pumping his fingers faster. - the pain- pleasure-I didn’t think!” You trail off moaning louder, biting your bottom lip, closing your eyes.

Holding the knifes to your neck, “Look at me or I’m stopping, look at whose making your tight little cunt feel so good.” Smiling when you look at him. “That’s it beautiful, lemme see the sweet look into your eyes when you cum. Whose slut are you?”

Rubbing your soft clit faster. “Your’s! All yours my tits, mouth, ass and cunt are all yours.” Dragging the knife down your neck, between your collarbones and swirling around your nipple.

“What are you? Need to hear you say it beautiful.” Messaging your sweet spot at a steady pace. You’re quivering, your cunt squelching, making his cock ache with how hard he is. His pulse quickens, making his head throb.

Swiping your nipple with the knife. “I’m your sexy good lil’ slutttt!!! Nnnn!” You’re squirting on his fingers, fingering your soft, squelching tight cunt. Playing with your puffy clit.

Jerking your hips away, he drags the knife down above your belly. Forcing you to have to keep still, your thick cum trickling from your spasming cunt. “There are so many nasty things I wanna do to you. I’m gonna ruin you, make your cunt crave my cock.” Gliding his fingers out.

Sucking your thick cum off his fingers, groaning from the flavor. Dragging the knife to your sloppy, sensitive cunt, sliding the knife around your sweet cunt. Groaning when your soft cunt clenches around nothing. “Beg for my cock.”

Oreo creampie’s m.list

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lymtw · 4 months

Text

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond with:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

He laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. "There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

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