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celestie0 · 3 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

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

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

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

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

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

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

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

➸ masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

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

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

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

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for no flirting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Bros.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly.

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He feels like throwing up.

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

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

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

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

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

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

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think about fucking you all the time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10:34am you: do it then

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

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

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

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

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

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

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

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

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

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

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

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

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—” He stops himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[the end]

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

➸ masterlist

taglist:

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

@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

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

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

@satoryaa @gojodickbig @v4mpieres @reinam00n @sleepyyammy

@haikomaiko @tbzzluvr @myahfig4 @arabelluhhh4200 @bloopsstuff

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

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

@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

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moonlightisdancing · 4 months ago

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Like A Virgin/ j.t.k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI practically smut w no plot, mentions arguing/drinking/parental issues, sneaking out, consumption of weed, pure awkwardness, some fluff, oral sex (m+f receiving), loss of virginity (m+f), penetrative unprotected sex

as always please lmk if anything’s missed

inspired by my dear nick & this song

a/n: sorry if this is kinda cheesy/short/whatever… just needed to write a virgin jake fic

——————🌸——————

“Yeah, maybe we can hang out this summer!”

Those were the last words you’d hear from Jake Kiszka after graduation as he scribbled his phone number and a smiley face next to his picture in your yearbook. He must have known you had a small crush on him that may or may not have developed during senior year calculus after some group work.

His number was saved to your contacts that day but it wasn’t until August came around before you ever texted him, but he wasn’t your first thought. You knew he lived relatively close to you, one block to the left and over the train tracks, all the way at the end of the street. Meanwhile, you only lived a block away from your best and really only friend, Kiera, so she’s who you’d spend most your time with.

Today has been the longest day of your life. A screaming match with your mom over the gap year you decided on last minute, your dad drinking again, an entire summer of pent up anger bouncing around the walls of your home had finally bursted at the seams. You spent all night crying, your mind traveling to the darkest of places. It just felt like you needed a hug, for someone to hold you and tell you it would all be okay.

“Hello?”

It took five rings before Kiera answered her phone. In her defense it was roughly two in the morning and you should have been asleep, too.

“Kiera? I-I could really use your company if you can.” The sobbing hadn’t stopped, the words barely coming out.

“Y/n… My parents won’t let me out this late, you know that.”

“Even if I walk there? I-Kiera, I just need a hug or a blunt, something. And I don’t know anyone else.”

“Well, you know Jake, and his mom’s much nicer than mine.” She sounded irritated but you knew she was trying her best to be patient.

“I haven't talked to him since grad, I can’t just hit him up.”

“Just text him? He posted on Snapchat like fifteen minutes ago and he lives right there.”

“Okay, okay, fine. But what if he thinks-”

“Just do it and let me know, okay? I love you, good night.” She hung up before you could even respond.

Breathe, Y/n, it’s fine, everything is fine.

You: Heyyy Jake it’s Y/n

Jake K: Hey stranger, what’s up?

You: So super awkward, but I’m in desperate need of a blunt and a hug

Jake K: Done and done. Remember where I live?

You: Yeah

Jake K: Come on by, porch lights on

How could you forget where he lived? Sure, you went once for Jake and Josh’s graduation party, but after learning how close your highschool crush lived to you, you’d never forget. You fixed your hair in the bathroom and splashed your face with cool water in attempts to bring down your swollen red eyes. A little bit of deodorant and some perfume would be the finishing touches before returning to your room. You couldn’t leave through the front door, the dogs would bark and it would add one more thing to the list of arguments yet to be had. It doesn’t matter you’re eighteen, as long as you lived under your parent’s roof, it was their rules. You opened your window and climbed out, using the junction box outside your window for leverage.

It takes eleven minutes to walk from your house to Jake’s, where he’s already standing on his front porch waiting for you. He’s in basketball shorts, slip on Vans and a pullover hoodie, and somehow he still looks good as ever. You weren’t half way up his driveway before he began walking towards you with his arms wide open. At graduation he only offered an awkward side hug, so this sure was new to say the least. Jake wraps both his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. You inhale his scent, he just smells like home. Not yours, most likely his, but home with a hint of worn off cologne. Your heart begins racing a lot faster than you want to admit as he holds you until you let go.

“Shall we?” He asks in a deep silly voice as he leads you through the gate to his backyard. There was a firepit in the middle of some chairs and a cute little picnic table off to the side. You follow him towards the mahogany stained wood and sit across from him. The only light was that of the full moon washing over everything in a blue tint.

“Do you know how to roll?” Jake asks as he empties the contents of his pockets on the table.

“Uh-uh.” You shook your head.

“S’okay, I can show you.” Jake turns the flashlight from his phone on, handing it to you to hold. He walks you through the process, admittedly you paid more attention to the way his fingers moved than the actual task itself.

You watch as his tongue parts his lips and licks across the blunt, sealing the weed inside. Jake reaches for his phone, his fingers brushing gently against your knuckles. The two of you stand awkwardly from the table, the moonlight illuminating Jake’s soft features.

“C’mere, I know a spot.” He holds his empty hand out towards you and waits until you place your palm in his. Jake guides you to the side of his house and down a tiny path that leads to a creek. There resides an old metal bench that Jake directs you towards. He places the blunt between his plush pink lips and brings the lighter to the end, the red hot cherry casting a golden hue against his cheek bones. A couple silent puff, puff, passes happen before you speak.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you sooner. Life’s just been kinda…” You trailed off.

“Hey, don’t apologize,” He shifts to face you, bringing his one leg up. “We’re here now, that’s what matters.”

More silence occured as the blunt was worked down to nothing, but the silence was comfortable. You didn’t want to talk about your problems and ruin the safe bubble that naturally surrounded Jake’s existence, opting to ask him about his plans instead.

“So, is the band doing good or are you gonna go to college?” You ask, matching his stance by turning to face him.

“Band’s going places, I think. I dunno, gotta wait for Sammy and Danny to finish school, then we’ll really know. You?”

“Taking a gap year, but who knows? Maybe I could be some rockstar’s girlfriend.” Sheesh, the weed had you feeling ballsy.

“Yeah, maybe.”

The comfortable silence had now grown awkward as you struggled to even look in Jake’s direction.

“You should hear me play some time. I-I mean if you wanted to I can right now.” Jake stumbles over his words, presumably a mix of anxiousness and marijuana.

“Sure, yeah, that sounds good.” You nod and stand at the same time Jake does, taking his hand once again as he held it out for you. His palms feel warm and clammy, usually you’d be off put but his nervousness is endearing.

He opens the little side door to the garage and flicks on the light. It smells very garage-y, the whirring of the fluorescent lights really tying it together. He walks to the opposite side and grabs his acoustic guitar before suggesting you sit on the couch next to him.

“We’ve been working on this one for a little bit, it’s called Flower Power.”

He plays chords to a song you hadn’t heard, singing chunks of lyrics alike. It was a beautiful song nonetheless, maybe even one you’d listen to on your own accord.

“Wow, she must be a lucky girl.”

“Think so? Why’s that?” Jake giggled as he discarded his guitar. He flicked on a lava lamp before shutting the flourecent light off and returning awfully close beside you.

“Are you kidding me? If someone wrote that about me, said that to me?! I think every girl wants to be loved that way.”

“Yeah?” He laughed again, shaking his head.

“Yes!”

“And what if I told you someone did?”

“What?” Your cheeks flamed red, matching the color of the lamp beside you.

“That’s your song, Y/n.” Jake reaches his hand out to yours again for the third time tonight, this time interlocking his fingers with yours.

“Mine?”

Jake nodded before some force pulled the two of you together, your lips crashing into his. After months of wondering what he tasted like, the flavor of weed and spearmint on his lips was one you’d never forget. The kissing grew quickly heated as Jake’s hands found purchase on your hips, his knee planted between yours as he hovered over you. You found yourself rutting your hips up against his as he did the same, the feeling of his hardening length against your clothed center driving you places you’d never been. The kissing led to shirts being removed, ultimately leaving you in your bra and underwear, Jake in his shorts.

“What d’ya wanna do?” He whispered between kisses, his hands migrating to your breasts.

“Um, not sure… I’ve never-”

“No, me either, it’s okay.”

“I can- do you want head?”

“You okay with that?”

“Yeah,”

Jake sat beside you again as you stood between his legs, lowering yourself to your knees. You’d never given head before, or done anything along these lines. Your body filled with an unfamiliar sensation as you progressed, dipping your fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers. His length sprung straight up and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Never would you have thought he’d pack so much heat. You gently wrap one hand around the base of his cock, slowly stroking his length as you work your lips over his blushed tip. You watched a few videos here and there to sort of have a general idea, trying to remember anything from those as you bobbed your head up and down. Jake’s hands cupped either side of your face as he moaned and whined before grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“Is this okay?”

“Mhm.” You hummed with him in your mouth, his dick twitching in response.

“Can I give you head?” He asks, lifting you from his length. You nod eagerly as Jake laid you down on the sofa, kicking off his shorts and boxers. He kisses up the inside of your thighs before hovering over your center. You’re embarrassed by the polka dot cotton panties you wore, but he doesn’t seem to care as he tucks his fingers into the elastic waist. He looks up at you and waits for approval before pulling them down your thighs, tossing them amongst his.

It’s a matter of seconds before his tongue begins exploring you alongside his fingers. Jake’s mouth marries perfectly against your aching bud as he switches between flicking his tongue and sucking. His fingers tease your entrance as he finally pushes a finger in, his mouth continuing its task. You watch him grind his hips against the cushions, his groans growing louder the faster his mouth and fingers move.

“Jake?” You whine, writhing under his touch.

“Hm?” He pulls away, staring at you with his soaked chin and lips.

“Do you wanna have sex?” Bold. The weed was giving you all the courage you could ask for.

“I don’t know where there’s a condom.” He kneels on the cushions in front of you, stroking his length.

“You don’t have one like in your wallet?”

“Why would- I’m a virgin.”

“Right, sorry.” It was kind of implied earlier, but hearing the words leave his mouth felt foreign. It truly astounded you that he was a virgin. People said he got around a lot, it was one of the reasons you felt you had no chance.

“Maybe just the tip? Just to feel?” He shrugged, placing his hands on your knees.

“Yeah… But what if it feels too good? And we wanna keep going?”

“Pull out?”

You knew that was almost always a bad idea, but you let yourself think with the wrong head as you agreed to the idea. Jake pushes your knees apart and slowly brings his hips forward, the pillowy head of his cock rubbing against you. You reach a hand down and situate him at your entrance, bringing your legs up to ease him in. Jake places his hands against the armrest of the couch above your head, his chest hovering over your face as he slowly introduces his length.

“More.” You begged through a breathy moan, wincing as he did exactly as you asked. Jake feeds his entire length inside, his thighs flush against yours as you both revel in the feeling.

“Fuck, this is so… You feel so good.” Jake places a kiss on the top of your head before trailing his mouth down to yours.

The pain of his thick cock stretching your tight pussy quickly subsides as he begins slowly moving his hips back and forth, his lacking rhythm quickly being found. His lips remain on yours, only pulling away from time to time to check if you were okay. Your nails find a home digging into his back each time his hips crashes into yours. With each thrust came the familiar warmth washing over your body causing you to tighten around Jake.

“Are you close?”

“Yeah,” You respond, hardly able to breathe.

“Suck for me, baby.” Jake brings his middle and index finger to your lips, pushing them into your mouth. After you coat his digits with your saliva, Jake brings them to your clit, rubbing circles over your bud. That only brings you closer to your orgasm, one that feels more powerful than any other. The pleasure that rips through you simply could never be replicated by your own fingers again.

“Jake, fuck, mm,” Your moans begin to sound like cries as your body shakes beneath his.

“S’okay, I got you, pretty girl.” He brings his hand back up, wrapping his arms behind your back as he hugs you to his chest. “I’m gonna cum, too.” Jake removes himself from your aching pussy, resting his cock on your belly as he lowers himself and begins thrusting again. It takes seconds for his hot release to paint your skin, being spread by his weight against yours.

“So do you wanna be a rockstar’s girlfriend?” He asks kissing up and down your neck, occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin.

“I would love to.”

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johnslittlespoon · 6 months ago

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🌈 MOTA Writers (+ Readers) Discord Server!

Do you write queer/shippy things for Masters of the Air? Or are you a reader who wants to contribute brainrot/ideas too?

Cool! You're invited to join the Writers of the Air server, wowie! Did I pull all of this out of my ass in the past 24 hours? Absolutely. Do I know what I'm doing? No, I have created one server in my life. Will we have a good ol' time? Yeah, baby!

✨ How to join: 1. Be an adult (sorry buds– there are gonna be channels for nsfw writing things!) 2. Send me a message here with your Discord ID, or ask for an invite link, if you don't have public invites turned on! :-) If messages aren't working for some reason, just reply to this post and lmk, I'll try to send you one instead. <3

That's all! I don't want to post a public invite link so we can avoid possible trolls/weirdos and can keep this a friendly, comfy space. 💗

This feels so formal lmao but really it's just gonna be a fun, chill server for writing–related things. Maybe occasional events/challenges for anyone who wants to participate, but mostly just a creative hangout space for authors and readers. :-)

My sleep's all over the place, so please be patient with me if I don't see your message asap! And also bear with me if there are any issues with bots/permissions because I'm winging all of this lol but I'm open to suggestions and will fix any issues as soon as I can. ✨

P.S. The reason this is specifically a writing server for authors who write fruity ship content is bc I've seen quite a few servers already for rp, oc/x reader, etc, so I wanted to create a more niche space for mostly queer canon character content instead! It's not intended to be exclusive at all, as all fic is wonderful and lovely. <3 Just thought for pride month it would be fitting to make something purposefully curated towards queer creations. 🌈

#masters of the air fic #writers of the air #clegan #mota fic #curtbucky #<- for anything related to this server if any future posts are needed lol #ngl i keep giggling because. wota #hopefully there's not already a server community w this name! i checked and didn't see any so 🤞🏻

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probablyoutyappingorsomething · 4 months ago

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Summer Camp-C.S- Chapter 1

Warnings- cussing, and skinny dipping (I think that’s it)

Also this is my first fic, lmk what you think, and this is based off of a C.ai bot I talk to so yeah! xoxo- Val💋

I’m not the best teenager, I’ll admit that, but I’m not terrible. Apparently my parents don’t think so though cause they’re the ones sending me to this shitty summer camp anyway, they said it would be a good learning experience, whatever the hell that means. I’m on the bus right now I think we’re about to get off, I see the huge sign that read “Camp Lakeside” yeah hopefully this place has a damn Lake. I grabbed my things and got ready to get off the bus after it came to a complete stop, everyone seemed eager to get off like they’d been here before, or their asses hurt from sitting so long, I know mine does…I shoved myself into the aisle somewhere in the back. After a minute I was the last one off the bus, I took a minute to look around with all my light pink bags in hand. That’s when I saw a guy walking up to me, he was wearing some shorts, his hair looked super fluffy, and his blue eyes made me wanna put on my sunglasses again. “You new here?” he asked with a smug smile on his face that made me wanna slap him (ok maybe I had anger issues too).

“Yeah, and I’m not fucking you if that’s what you want.” I said as I started to walk away to try and find my cabin. “Damn, you rude much?” He asked me as he kept up with my pace, I couldn’t lie he was pretty hot…“Yeah that’s kinda why I’m here in the first place.” I answered as I walked down the dirt trail, to where the girls cabins were. “Sooo, what’s your name?” He asked, this guy was quite the inquisitive one.

“It’s Y/N, you are..?” I asked as I made a turn following the signs along the path. “Names Chris, need help with your bags?” Oh wow another question, surprising. I thought for a minute, I didn’t wanna be a burden but damn some of these bags were heavy. “This one please.” I said as I handed one of the light pink bags to him leaving me a free hand which I used to fix my long light brunette hair. I saw him looking in my peripheral vision, I didn’t mind though, maybe I even liked it- doesn’t matter, my thoughts got interrupted yet again by a question. “So you like- a dancer or something?” he asked as he watched me walk alongside him.

“Uh..no, I like singing though.” I answered, with a small squint on my eyes, the sun was super bright right now, and right in my face. “Oh are you in like choir or something?” he asked, just then I realized how white his teeth were, but I brushed it off. “Nope, I just take voice lessons, I mainly do pop cause I’m an alto and it just fits better.” I answered, with a small smile on my lips. We kept walking up to the girls cabin, “I’m guessing I’ll see you later?” I asked this time as I took the light pink bag from him full of my clothes. “Probably, it’s a small camp after all.” Chris said as he ran a hand through his hair, which was oddly attractive, then started to leave. “See ya.” I called out almost like an impulse, slightly embarrassing myself, I watched as he turned and waved as he kept walking off…damn he was hot.

************************************* I met a few girls, Jennifer, Anastasia and Rose, all very pretty girls and around my age, we all snuck out in the middle of the night to go swimming in the lake, I was wearing a black bikini, hugging my curves and showing my stomach with my hair up in a messy high pony with some strands down.

“It’s hotter than hell out here, I’m about to go skinny dipping.” I joked and the other girls laughed, and Anastasia said “Oh my god Y/N the counselors would literally kick you out if they found out.” I shrugged as I stood up and started undoing my bikini top, throwing it to the side. “Anyone coming with me?” I asked as I took off my bottoms and threw them to the side along with my top, the other girls also stood up and started to undress and jump in, I followed after them.

A couple minutes later we heard guys talking, probably four or five of them, one looked like Chris, but they kept walking and didn’t notice us, this must’ve been a nightly occurrence. “Did they not notice us or did they not care?” I asked as I swam around in the lake a little, the water wasn’t terrible cold for the sun being down.

“They’ll probably come back in a minute, they might wanna talk to you, you’re new and hot, destined to be a man magnet.” Rose answered as we watched the guys turn around and go on the deck where the girls bikinis were, one of the ok-looking ones bent down and started to talk to me.

“Hey you’re pretty nice looking.” He said with a smug smile on his face. “I’m sixteen.” I respond in hopes to get him away, I’m completely naked after all. “Ah, you’re younger than I thought, even better…what’s your name?” He asked, with the same punchable smile on his face.

“None of your business, creep.” I said, I was really uncomfortable with the current situation. “Just go away, Kyler.” Jennifer said from beside me, but this Kyler kid kept going. “Shut the fuck up and go away, I’m not fucking you just cause you haven’t been laid in five months.” I snapped at him. “What did you just say to me?” Kyler asked as his fiends (except Chris) “ooohhhh’d” in the background.

“Why don’t you and your friends turn around so me and my friends can actually get decent, then we can talk.” I said, and everyone seemingly agreed, the guys all walked off the deck and had their backs turned to the girls as we all got dressed, when I was don’t I walked in front of them, my body and hair still wet from the lake. “So you still think I’m a creep?” Kyler asked, “Yeah you saw me naked in a lake then started hitting on me, a little weird don’t ya think?” I fired back almost immediately. “Listen!” He said as he stepped closer and put his hand on my shoulder, making me more uncomfortable in the current situation. “You’re really starting to piss me off, brat.” He said as I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. “You’re really starting to piss me off. No means no idiot.” I said as my white knuckles started to hurt from trying not to punch this guy.

After a long minute of awkward silence the other girls and I started walking back to the cabin, I fell back a little, they were walking so damn fast, next thing I knew there was a hand on my shoulder, I looked up and it was Chris. “I wanna apologize for how that guy was acting, I’m not really his friend but that was really shitty of him.” He said, and I felt some kinda softness in my chest from him apologizing. “Oh thanks, but it’s not your problem..” I said, I’m pretty sure he could see right through me, and my “I’m not flustered at all” act. “So I’ll uh see you tomorrow, Y/N?” Chris asked, his hand still on my shoulder, and matching my walking pace. “Yeah sure, see ya..goodnight.” I said as I kept walking to my cabin, watching as he waved again and walked off to his, just then I knew I had a massive crush on this guy I met…at a Summer Camp…

************************************ Erm. So that’s the end of that chapter lmk if it’s ass or if you have anything that would help me out with the whole writing aspect, DONT WORRY, next chapter things will definitely get escalated, and a little spicy, but nothing huge yet! LYSM-

xoxo- Val💋💋

Tags:

@c0metss

#chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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just-a-creep-babe · 2 years ago

Text

A Demon’s Ache — Part 2

Eyeless Jack x Reader (NSFW)

Part 1

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss tysm darling, I really appreciate the support <333

I've given it a title so therefore, I have officially made it a ✨thing✨ The outline has 6 parts rn, but I'm far from done~

AND once I finish Dirty Little Secret on my patreon, I'm thinking I'll rewrite this series but in like,, the reader's POV. So anyways, all that to say I've very much been enjoying this and I'm excited to keep it going uwu 💕💞💓

I've also been having some formatting issues on this one, for some reason?? I tried fixing it up but please lmk if there's anything off AND lmk if you enjoyed <3

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Join my Patreon if you’d like to support me <3

Masterlist: x

It comes as no surprise when he ends up in bed, hard dick in his hand, thinking of you for the god-knows-how-many-th time

Try as he might to fervently rut into his clenched fist, he knows no feeling would ever compare to you bouncing on his cock instead

The taste of you on his tongue had dissipated much too quickly, but that doesn’t stop him from desperately trying to reimagine your arousal on his lips

He grunts, his hips grinding up, cock tensing and twitching in his hold

It’s torturous

He needs you

Precum beads up at his tip, and all he can think about is the way you’d lap it up with your tongue

Friends

Every time he imagines all the ways he could fuck you senseless, the word friends interrupts his fantasy

Really, he knows what he’s doing is wrong

He shouldn’t be having such depraved thoughts about someone who doesn’t want anything to do with him beyond friendship

But he can’t help it

You drive him wild

The sounds of your pretty little moans and whimpers are stuck on repeat in his head

The way your body writhed in his touch, the way your perfectly wet cunt tightened around his tongue—everything about you gets him drunk with lust

His room feels unbearably hot

Try as he might to relieve the throbbing ache of his stiff cock, it’s no use

He can’t be satisfied without you

And he realizes, fuck, you’ve triggered a heat

The next few days are absolute hell

He’s on and off his heat

Every time it’s on the cusp of dissipating, his thoughts scramble back to you, and it starts all over again

He waits at least a week before leaving his room—just to be sure seeing you won’t jeopardize anything

And it’s only a day or two after he leaves his room that he runs into you again

It’s an early morning, with pale sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows

You’re at the table, sipping on a coffee, and a few other creeps are scattered about the dining room and kitchen

He doesn’t know whether he should be irritated or grateful that there are other people around

Probably the latter, considering he wouldn’t know how to act if it was just the two of you

But it’s hard to feel grateful when Jeff decides to take a seat right next to you

And god, does he ever hate the way that guy looks at you sometimes

He debates staying or going as he makes his coffee

Staying might aggravate him if he notices Jeff trying to pull any moves on you

But on the other hand, leaving might risk something developing between you and Jeff

The more he can interfere between you and other potential suitors, the better

He can’t let anyone else have you

So even though he’s, admittedly, being childish when he takes the other open spot next to you, he tries to play it off like it’s nothing

Like he hasn’t been jerking off to the thought of you for the past week

You don’t seem to notice, but Jack doesn’t miss the way Jeff glares at him when he sits

Try me, Jack wants to say

Jeff huffs out a breath when he realizes the hybrid won’t back off

And the sheer audacity of that guy—thinking he can just waltz up to you and have you all to himself—it unlocks something primal within Jack

“What’s wrong?”

Your voice, as angelic as ever, suddenly breaks the mounting tension in the room

Jack feels like a filthy perv when the first thing that comes to mind is all those pretty sounds you made when you came against his mouth

He just wants to fuck more of those precious sounds out of you

Deep breaths, deep breaths

“What? What do you mean what’s wrong?” Jeff answers your question with his own, trying to act dumb

And thankfully, the grating sound of his voice is enough to snap Jack out of his fantasy

“Why do you look so aggravated all of a sudden?” you ask, your tone lighthearted and joking as you sip your coffee

“Yeah, Jeff, is something wrong?”

Jack tries to keep his voice as genuine as possible when he backs you up, but he knows Jeff is fully aware of the cocky grin he’s wearing beneath his mask

And he has to suppress a snicker when the guy glowers at him

“Just… life,” Jeff haphazardly grumbles, not wanting to admit Jack’s ruined the alone time he wanted with you

A cruel joke comes to the demon’s mind

It’s dumb and immature, and he knows he shouldn’t say it, but he wants to say it

So, he does

“Oh,” he hums, “is it that problem you’ve mentioned to me before?”

Jeff’s eyes meet his, brow arching

“What problem?” he asks, taking the bait

“You know,” Jack continues, trying to act as natural as possible, “that issue you’ve been having. I told you, you might need to change your diet. More fiber would help you become more regular…”

His chest practically swells with pride when you snort out a laugh

“Oh my god, is that what it is?”

You burst out laughing even harder at the expression on Jeff’s face

“The fuck!? That’s not even true! Why would you say that—what the fuck is your problem, man?!”

He can try to say whatever he wants, but it’s no use; he knows Jack’s gotten the best of him

With an angry snort, he stands

“Whatever, I’m over this,” he growls

And just like that, he walks away, leaving you and a very self-satisfied Jack alone at the table

He finally has you all to himself

Well, minus the creeps coming in and out for coffee and breakfast

But at least none of them seem particularly interested in you

Not in the way Jeff seemed to be, anyways

“Christ, he’s so dramatic,” you chuckle, shaking your head with a smile on your lips

There are suddenly butterflies in Jack’s stomach

God, you’re so fucking cute

“Was that even true?”

You look at him when you ask the question, and he almost forgets how to breathe for a minute

He shrugs, hoping you don’t notice the effect you have on him

“If he’s constipated? I mean, I don’t know if I should say anything about it. Seems like he’s embarrassed about it…”

You shake your head with a snicker

He wants to kiss you

Fuck, he really, really wants to kiss you right now

Crash his lips into yours until he’s all you can think about

He wants to wrap your legs around him, slam your back against the table and make out with you until you’re a pretty little dazed mess beneath him

Blood rushes to his junk

He shifts in place, trying to ignore it

Friends

As unwanted as ever, he’s reminded of that fucking word again

But even despite it, he isn’t entirely sure where the two of you stand

Hell—he’s more uncertain than ever

Did you really want to forget that whole thing happened in the first place?

Go about things like normal—as if he hadn’t buried his face between your thighs?

As if you hadn’t pulled his hair and whimpered his name when you came against his lips?

He takes a sip of his coffee in a vain attempt to distract himself

But it’s hard to think straight when his dick keeps throbbing for attention

He quietly clears his throats, as if that could help anything, and he shifts in place again, subtly trying to readjust himself in his grey sweats

It’s only when his knuckles accidentally graze your bare thigh, only when he hears your quiet little gasp, that he freezes in place

The sound was barely audible, but he knows what he heard

He glances down, and he almost groans out loud when he notices what you’re wearing

It’s those same fucking shorts

He’s at a loss for what to do

The both of you are in the middle of the kitchen dining room—for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be having half the thoughts he’s having right now

But even then, he can’t bring himself to pull his hand away from your thigh

The minimal amount of skin-on-skin contact is making his head spin

He needs more

He’s never felt so insatiable

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist stroking at your leg

The motion is slow, soft, calculated, so that he can enjoy every inch of your perfect skin

Neither of you move as he gently traces over your thigh with the back of his knuckles

His chest is pounding

He can hear your heart beating, your breath hitching in your throat whenever he gets closer to the edges of your shorts

He wants you

God, does he ever want you

That pesky word keeps coming to mind again, but he forces himself to forget about it

For now—at the very least

You don’t make a move to stop him

You almost seem to welcome his touch

But that uncertainty is still there

Which is why he takes things unbearably slowly when he moves his hand between your legs to grasp at the flesh of your inner thighs

You make what sounds like a quiet whimper

And the sound goes right to his cock

As if a whole week of jerking off to you wasn’t enough

Inch by inch, his touch dances further up along your thigh

And though it’s subtle, he can’t not notice the way you part your legs just the slightest bit more for him

You’re giving him permission to touch you—right here, right now—of all places?

He breathes in, and when he gets a whiff of your scent, he decides fuck it, there’s no way he can let this opportunity slip him by

So under the cover of the table, even despite the few creeps still lingering about, he pushes past the material of your shorts to access your sex

You’re wet

You’re already turned on for him—he can feel it through your underwear

Screw anyone around to see, he wants to bend you over this table right now and fuck his cum inside you

He wants to breed you and mark you and make sure everyone knows by the sounds of your screams that you’re all fucking his

He strokes your slit up and down through your panties, and he adores the way it has you squirming in place

Fuck, you’re so cute

He wants to ruin you

But he also wants to enjoy every second of this

So he takes his sweet, sweet time running his fingers along your covered sex until he can feel you getting wetter and wetter

It isn’t long for you to thoroughly soak through your panties

And all he wants is to taste you all over again

He swallows down a growl at the thought

His body’s burning for yours

You keep squirming and quietly gasping as he teases you

And he’s so entranced by you, he nearly forgets you’re in an open room

All he can focus on is the way your body’s reacting to him

Whatever delicate threads of control he’s still grasping onto feel like they’re slipping from his hold

When you whine his name out, so cute and desperate and needy for him, it’s all the approval he needs

He pushes your underwear to the side and runs his fingers up and down your slit

The way your arousal gathers on the pads of his fingers almost makes him lose it

He just wants to pull you into his lap and fuck up into you until you’re gushing around his cock

But somehow, he manages to hold himself back

He teases at your clit very, very briefly, before then slowly sinking two digits into your opening

His chest rumbles with an involuntary groan as he immediately feels you clench around him

You bite back a moan, but he can still hear the way you sigh at the feeling

You’re so wet, so perfectly tight around him

He imagines how good you’d feel wrapped around his dick

You shift in place, breathing his name out in a shaky moan, and it’s a miracle he still has the self-control to not screw your brains out yet

He’s about to suggest taking things to your room when Hoodie walks in and locks eyes with you

If Jack were any more coherent beyond his lust, he’d probably pull his hand out of your pants

But he’s beyond giving a shit at this point

The proxy pauses, almost curiously, and instead of going for the fridge or pantry, or wherever he was going to go, he makes his way towards you

Jack feels you stiffen

You clench around his fingers, your breathing uneven

He knows he should stop

But he’s not done enjoying the warmth of your tight cunt fluttering around him

And so what if Hoodie notices?

At least then, he’d know who you belong to

The demon is entirely aware he’s being selfish

But he can’t bring himself to care

He’s too far gone

So even as he watches Hoodie greet you, even as he watches you, dazed and horny and sex-drunk off his fingers, struggling to greet the proxy normally, he doesn’t pull away

Let him know

Let him know who you’re allowing to do such depraved things to you

“(Y/n), you missed our training session this morning,” Hoodie says, and a bout of anger flares up in Jack’s chest

Oh how he loathes the thought of another man getting physical with you

It makes him curl his fingers inside you to reach right up against a spot that has you cinching around him

You squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip briefly before you can recover

“Y-yeah, uhm, sorry about that”

Your voice is shaky, your face visibly flushed

But you haven’t even tried to stop Jack yet

You want this as much as he does

“I, ah, I meant to let you know, but I—I forgot… to mention it”

In and out, the hybrid painstakingly slowly pumps his fingers inside your velvety walls as you try to talk normally

He flattens his palm against your clit, and your hips buck against his touch, which you quickly try to pass off as shifting in your seat

“Hm, that’s alright,” the proxy hums, then tilts his head curiously. “Is it because you weren’t feeling well? You look kind of… off”

Jack stiffens as the man reaches out to press his hand against your cheek

It’s just to check if you’re feverish, the logical part of him knows that, but the irrational part of him despises that he’s just laid a finger on you

A warning growl emanates out of his chest—low enough that it seems to slip Hoodie’s attention, but loud enough that you seem to notice it

You’re his—what’s not to fucking understand?

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just… ah, j-just didn’t sleep too well—“

Something like a choked moan evades you again, and you have to pretend to cough to avoid suspicion

Jack grinds his hand against your clit, and your whole body reacts to his touch

“S’alright,” the demon hums, and he briefly wonders if Hoodie notices the unusually husky timber of his voice when he does, “she might have the flu, but I’m checking up on it. She should be fine, nothing serious”

You squirm, and he teases at your sweet spot again, the calloused pads of his fingers rubbing right where you need it most

You can’t look Hoodie in the eyes as your thighs start trembling

Your hand looks unsteady as you bring the coffee to your lips, but you manage to drink it down without spilling anything

The proxy glances between you and Jack, and Jack wonders if he’s caught on yet

Either way, if he has, he doesn’t show it

“Well, alright, I hope you feel better soon. Let me know when you want to train next time”

You nod, humming to hide another whimper as Jack’s fingers don’t relent

And then finally, finally, Hoodie leaves

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jack crams his fingers into your inviting heat in a slew of rough thrusts

You gasp, almost moaning out very loudly before you manage to cover your mouth to muffle it

It doesn’t take long for you to cum around his digits

And god, you’re breath-taking as you do so

Your back arches, body tensing as your teeth bite down hard into your lips to prevent a scream from escaping

How he wishes those were his teeth biting into you instead

And just like that first time he made you cum, he can’t seem to bring himself to stop

It’s only when you’re shaking from the overstimulation, only when you reach out to pull his hand away, that he finally relents

His fingers are dripping with your arousal

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist bringing them up to his mouth to taste you off his digits

And fuck, you taste just as good as you did the first time

You’re panting, chest heaving, a perfectly unfocused look in your eyes

He wants to pick you up, take you to the nearest bedroom and fuck you stupid

Friends, fuck-buddies, potential partners—he doesn’t know where the two of you stand

But at this point, labels don’t matter, he thinks, not really, anyways

He’s not letting anything come between the two of you

You're his

#creepypasta #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless Jack #eyeless Jack x reader smut #creepypasta x reader #crp

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cloud-somersault · 5 months ago

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so just read your review of s5 and i definitely think that this season wasn’t lmk’s best and tbh the ending falls flat for me

i honestly think it’s the pacing and how everything is fixed with a bow too quickly and there’s not enough time to really process and delve into. which the specials help with, but we didn’t get one here and it just makes me go :/

there were a lot of good moments like you said (and i am latching onto them for my own safety bubble lmao) but omfg yeah when you mentioned the unexplained magic system i could not have nodded harder because HOW???? HOW DOES MK JUST KNOW THE SPELLS????? i can only suspend my belief for so much. i do trust them to explain eventually but how long do i gotta wait ;-;

sorry for the mini rant at the end. i just haven’t seen others also mention lmk’s issue with its magic system and yeah

first off, i love people using the smaller text to appear as if they're whispering. LOVE that. it's so cute.

second, that wasn't my full review. more of my initial thoughts. If I did a full review, it would be 10 pages long with sources and it would be peer reviewed and have footnotes and stuff. I still might do that. LMFAO

but s5 spoilers ahead, ofc.

but! yes. The pacing in LMK has always been quite fast! and that was less noticeable when the stakes were lower. but now that the world's always going to be in jeopardy, apparently, then. the pacing is really too fast for what they want to do.

We don't have time to delve into what the characters are feeling after each major event. Why are we JUST NOW learning about how Mei has the Samadhi Fire still and it's been inside her all along? During s4, there weren't any clues (that I saw) of her still having it, like no emerald swirls of fire, just electricity. So, the fandom, as a whole, thought she lost it, but noooo, it's been there all the time. Like, what??? That's a great way to make your audience feel stupid.

There's no -- like how did Red Son feel being locked in the scroll. What about everyone else. How are people feeling after Azure nearly destroyed the world. What about that aftermath? That part...that part that people largely think is filler is crucial to telling a story like this. We have to have moments where we sit with the characters and check in on them, see what they're thinking, how they're coping. We don't get that. We don't get enough of it. And it makes these characters feel flatter than they actually are.

They sneak in what they can in snippets and one-liners but that's not enough at this point. It's not enough when every season is going to be a world-ending catastrophe. We need to know these characters. And they've had 5 seasons to do it, and I still don't know critical things that I should know by now.

Also, worldbuilding? Can I get some, please? If the worldbuilding was good, we could go without a magic system! Think Lord of the Rings --- such WONDERFUL world building and history baked in, I don't have time to worry about the magic system. I've got so much information to go off of, I can suspend my disbelief because the world is so developed and magic can happen in a whimsical way.

But there isn't any...we travel around but WHERE ARE WE GOING?? How do-- can humans use magic? Can they see it? Have humans stumbled upon the celestial beasts ever? What bout the temples scattered about? NO one has? What if a human gets their hands on an artifact, what then? They fight in areas where humans are; is there no concern about being spotted? Sorry, but if anyone fucking saw a creature that looked ANYTHING LIKE Sun Wukong, he would be swarmed with pictures and selfies like.

And Nezha is just?? walking around??? WHAT??? I know in S3 they did this, too, but at least it was contained to those people on the train. this is a whole ass....city now.

I feel like people are just hearing me whine and complain about the magic system and they don't think it's a big deal. It's a HUGE DEAL. There is so much magic in this show!! There is so much magic that is just flung around by using seals and fancy circles. What do those circles mean??? Does everyone have their own special circle. Why does Macaque not have a circle, is it because he uses shadow magic?? Or chaos magic?? Why are they fucking with the magic now WHEN THEY HAVEN'T EVEN FULLY EXPLAINED WUKONG'S/MK'S MAGIC!!!!

Spoilers for the end of s5. But how. Does. MK. Know the spell. For Wukong's circlet. HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW DOES HE KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He saw Li Jing cast it maybe 3 times, but that's enough? How, MK? When did you study that magic? When did you learn how to use seals? When DID YOU LEARN HOW TO CLOUD SOMERSAULT??

How can I follow MK anymore when he's going places I can't pinpoint? I started off with him knowing nothing, now he picks up powers whenever he wants. If that's the case, just make him as strong as Wukong then!! Just do whatever. There's no power balance either. How strong is Macaque against MK? How strong is Mei against Macaque? I need a magic system or something so I can measure these values!!

They are never going to explain it to us. You can search through the series and look for clues, but that frustration is caused by the show not telling us crucial information. They want you to suspend your belief over and over and over again, but there comes a point of pure frustration where the audience is so disconnected from what's going on, because there's no rules. Characters can do whatever they want whenever they want.

Think about how that affects the plot. Think about how they came across these stones so easily. Think about how MK suddenly got the power to reach the top of that pagoda. Think about how they just so happen to stumble and find the White Lion and Azure Dragon like!! The plot is suffering! The characters have been suffering! And i'm suffering!!!

Sorry for my SUPER LONG RANT but i'm just so fed up.

#LMK s5 spoilers #s5 spoilers #lmk spoilers #i'm feeling the same fucking frustration that led to me writing my own au in the first place #like give the characters and setting to me #ask #anon

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dragonbma · 7 months ago

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Heard some friends were having inbox issues and I just checked my own and it’s telling me I have more asks than I can see in the actual inbox. Not sure how long ago this started because I don’t remember getting asks in the past few weeks, but if anyone knows how to fix this, please lmk. If you sent an ask recently, and I haven’t answered it, I’m sorry- I probably can’t see it.

On a happy note, Sea Temple Saturday’s anniversary is tomorrow so I have something really great planned hdpskdpskdpskdps :] I can’t believe it’s been a full year of me posting constant shenanigans on Saturdays.

#my poor inbox #I do keep a handful of asks in my inbox because they make me happy :]#so it’s possible if I haven’t answered yours I keep it like a trinket #the hype for Sea Temple Saturday is real #btw y’all are always free to use that tag too #bermuda ramblings

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squishsquishy · 1 month ago

Text

I can’t make stimboards because the links keep breaking. Idk how to fix it? I’m on mobile and I looked it up and I tried everything as far as I know. If anyone knows what the issue is please lmk

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years ago

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The Lonely One

Seungcheol

Characters: Seungcheol x female reader

Warnings: loneliness, mentions of bullying, mentions of violence, actual bullying, reader has speech issues, violence, threatening remarks. I think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything pls!

Author’s Note: So this is the first chapter of this series. Let me know what you guys think! I might fix it up later but I wanted to at least get one chapter out today! Oh and if anyone wants to be added to a tag list for this series let me know. Also let me know which members or if it’s just for all of them!

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Paved With Good Intentions Master List

🥀 & ☁️

Bold- Dialogue Italics- Thoughts

Walking to your classes was a drag for you. You always got bumped into and pushed around, a sorry here and an oops there never seemed to justify other people’s incompetence in your eyes. But it was what it was. You were the invisible girl. The nobody.

You were the girl at the back of the classroom who was secretly a star student that wasn’t even noticed by the teacher. Half the time you had to email them saying that you HAD actually attended the lecture and that they marked you absent by mistake. You were the girl that people LITERALLY had no idea that existed. Well, most people anyways…

“Hey dumbass! Where do you think you’re going?” Lia pushed you into the nearest table with enough force to knock you on your ass just as the rest of the class and the professor had finally cleared out of the classroom after your lecture had ended.

You just shook your head up at her so she’d know you weren’t doing anything wrong as you sat yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at the situation at hand.

“Awww… what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or are you gonna actually attempt to talk again?” She sneered with her gang of pretty rich girls beside her cheering her on and laughing at her sad excuse for a remark. Typical.

They’d all been picking on you since you started at your university a year ago, but Lia was the awful one. The worst the others had done to you was toss you into a garbage can near the cafe in the library after you ‘got in their way.’

But Lia actually got physical. She had actually gotten to the point of real violence with you. And you weren’t even sure why.

Sure you two weren’t and never would be best friends, but you had never done anything to her except breathe the same air as her. And it wasn’t like you could even help that, you just happened to attend the same university. But she really really had it out for you.

One time, she ripped such a big chunk out of your hair that your only friend in the country had to all but force you to the hospital to get stitches before you ‘bled out,’ her words not yours. When you got the stitches and tried to file a police report on her, they did nothing. They always did nothing. They cared about you and your pain about as much as for Korean government did. Your hair still hadn’t grown back in the spot.

Another time she had also broken your forearm before when she ‘accidentally’ (in reality how know it was on purpose) smashed it into a doorway while she was closing a heavy metal door. The teachers and students all kept telling her not to feel bad for the ‘accident’ because she acted concerned for you in front of them. She had a reputation to maintain after all. She couldn’t have her blind hatred for you tarnish that.

But the second you two were left alone, you could see by the smirk on her face that all but proved she knew damn well what she had done. The break took months to heal and honestly, your function in it still wasn’t all that great.

She seemed hell bent on making your already miserable life even more unbearable and you didn’t really even know why.

Part of you figured she may have started to pick on you because you stuttered from time to time. You had done it since you were little and no speech therapy or counselors your parents made you see could seem to make the issue go away or really lessen the harshness of it. So you opted to learn sign language, use that as your choice of common communication when needed, and only spoke to people when it was 100% necessary. Though because of how difficult and unusual your situation was, you usually just tried not to go near people altogether and actively avoided interacting with them whenever possible.

This, coupled with the fact that getting to know people seemed to make your anxiety sky rocket, made you a loner and a ‘freak,’ something the people who did know about you took notice of.

At that point in your life, you were used to people making the comments they did about you. They’d say you were weird, a loner, or that you were a friendless loser. They’d insult your intelligence and pretend that you just didn’t exist. Some of which, you understood to a certain extent. You would even consider yourself an odd ticket to most for more reasons than one at times.

But it never bothered you too much. You just used your free time watching practically every horror movie known to man and studied your ass off to get perfect grades. You’d ignore people and they’d ignore you in spades in return. It all just sort of… worked out.

However, Lia bullied you so much that now, your body refused to even try to speak to her. Or really anyone for that matter, even those you used to be able to semi force it to speak to when necessary before she came into the picture.

Anytime you attempted to speak words would only ever come out of your mouth, if they came out at all, in even more jagged segments that made virtually no sense. Which only added fuel to the already blazing fire.

So naturally, Lia would never let up on her bullying of you day in and day out. Lately, it had gotten worse though. She was doing it more and more frequently. At first, she used to only really ever do it when she considered you in her way or within her path of destruction. Now however, it seemed like she would jet across the entire campus just to get the chance to trip you on your way to your car.

You didn’t know if maybe she was extra stressed for some personal reasons or if maybe she had just been extra bored lately. But in either case, you just knew that she wouldn’t stop her pestering and punching anytime soon.

You held your hands up over your face, flinching as she drew her fist back in a menacing manner. You knew better than to show weakness in front of her, but it was a natural reaction for you when she started pretending like she was gonna hit you. Your body had no reason to believe she wouldn’t do such a thing as she’d actually caused you much physical harm in the past. So you jerked back on instinct.

If you hadn’t looked like you were trying to defend yourself from her attacks, she probably just would’ve laughed, made some snarky comment or insult, and left you alone. But you looked like you wanted to. Therefore she got mad. God why couldn’t you just keep your hands down. You were such an idiot.

She quickly let her balled up fingers make contact with your sharply clenched jaw. The force was enough to make you fall back completely on the floor. You knew that the hit would DEFINITELY leave a mark you’d no doubt have to cover tomorrow with what little makeup you could afford/had left.

You let a small whimper escape your lips in pain at the sudden sting of her hand smacking to your smooth skin. It wasn’t long after that that you brought your trembling hand to rub the newly red area gently, attempting to sooth the throbbing sensation radiating around it.

“Fucking pathetic freak!” She barked as she spit in your direction, not even passing you a glance as she and her little group turned back to leave.

You sat on the ground for sometime after that, partly to be sure they would be gone by the time you got up and partly because you didn’t feel like standing anymore. You felt like if you stood your legs may have buckled beneath you and failed you had you tried to get up before they had a chance to reconnect properly with your brain.

She didn’t even wait until your wounds from your last encounter with her had healed to come after you again.

You still had a busted lip from your last confrontation you had with her a few days ago over you ‘wearing the same hairstyle’ as she had. In truth, the hairstyle in question was just one of the very few you had knew how to do that you used to try and cover up your patch of thinned out hair caused by the chunk she had previously ripped out.

You were so caught up in your own sadness, you didn’t even notice the salty tears that had began to stream down your cheeks. Wow you really were as pathetic as Lia said you were.

Quickly wiping the hot liquid off your face, you stood up from your place on the floor, sniffling slightly to regain some of your minimally needed composure. Once you got got back out into the hallway, you kept your head down. You were too ashamed after the encounter to look at anything but your tired feet.

You knew you must have looked like a train wreck to bystanders, you didn’t want anyone to see you, even if the chances of them actually paying attention to you were slim. You didn’t want to risk it. You hated showing people that you were weak.

If anyone did happen to see you, they’d want to look away. They’d think the same things about you as Lia and her little clique: that you were a waste of space. That you were a good for nothing who didn’t belong in the habitat you found yourself in.

That’s why the only friend you had was a foreigner who more than likely just stuck around you because she pitied you and your situation.

Before you knew it, the halls were filled with people. The next set of classes were starting and the others on campus were scrambling to get to their correct rooms before they were deemed late and marked absent by angry professors.

“Hey watch it!” You heard a domineering male voice snarl when you felt yourself be knocked onto the cold tile floor below you.

You brought yourself back from the sudden shock of what had just happened and looked up at the boy you had run into, trying your best to sign out a speedy sorry and pull yourself upright in a haste.

But you always were a klutz. And because life just had to make your day that much worse, you found the arm that was holding you up slipping from under you, causing you to slid back down to the ground onto your ass with a loud thud.

The guy you ran into you was much faster than your scattered brain and helped you up by grabbing onto your forearm, pulling you up by your now no doubt bruised elbow.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see you!” His entire demeanor towards you had changed once he saw your face.

You had just assumed the sudden shift was because of your runny makeup and because he felt bad knowing he could probably see that you had a mini mental breakdown only moments before your collision, “Are you okay? Are you hurt? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Staring into his starry large eyes, you noted that they looked so… full of concern for you? They were soft and warm and made you feel like you were wrapped in a cozy blanket in front of a hot fire during a snow storm.

It was strange, usually the only person that seemed to give any sort of a shit about you was your only friend you had barely managed to find. But you were never really even sure why she was friends with you to begin with either.

Why did this stranger seemingly care so much about the possibility of hurting you when you were likely the one who ran into him? Why didn’t he just go away after or push you in return for running into him?

Maintaining eye contact with the boy, you found you were at a complete loss. He had dimples deeper than an ocean trench etched onto his charmingly rounded face that perfectly complemented his soulful looking eyes. He was actually gorgeous.

You barely dealt with average looking people on a daily basis, how the hell were you supposed to act around someone as pretty as him without seeming like you were drooling over him? What were you supposed to do in this type of situation?

A cute boy giving you a startlingly concerned look wasn’t registering in your mind. You couldn’t seem to wrap your head around why someone as attractive as he was would care about someone as lowly as you. It was like your brain was frozen. You didn’t speak, you physically couldn’t speak in that moment. But chances were he didn’t know that. So what would you do to get him to understand you?

You decided to simply shake your head and give him the best smile you could muster in the hopes you could signal that no, he wasn’t the one that hurt you and that you were doing just fine.

Even though it was a lie and that you really weren’t all that fine, it wasn’t like your appearance being so unkept was because of him. And you definitely didn’t want the kind stranger to think it was.

He seemed to relax slightly once he realized you were okay, but you could tell he still had some reservations about your tattered up facial features.

“I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t meant to snap at you. Today’s just been… pretty hectic and getting smacked around in a hallway by some inconsiderate college student would’ve made it that much worse.” He earnestly explained while rubbing the back up his neck to avoid your curious gaze, “I’m not usually this disoriented though, I swear! School just has a way of making me nervous and I’m definitely not used to slamming into a pretty girl in the hallway on the way to class.” Though it was probably a compliment he didn’t even think twice about saying just to soften the situation, your dumb cheeks still heated up like a tea kettle, “So I’m not particularly sure of what I’m supposed to do in this situation…”

You gave him a small genuine smile at his rambling. You wondered if he really was always so scatter minded or if you had somehow managed to throw him on edge by accidentally running into him. You decided that he was probably just a dork. Pretty people were usually quirky like that.

He held out his large hand for you to shake, “I’m sorry, where are my manners! I’m Seungcheol!” You shook his hand hesitantly, the feeling of his skin on yours sending a wave of electricity through your veins.

It was definitely new, but you found yourself liking it. You weren’t usually one to enjoy verbal contact with another person let alone one who enjoyed physical contact with another person. But with Seungcheol, you actually almost wanted to touch his hand indefinitely or constantly to maintain the feeling. Almost.

You snapped yourself out of your little trance and pulled your phone out of the side pocket of your bag to show him your notes app after typing down your name to introduce yourself.

“_____. That’s a pretty name!” He states as he gave you one of the most beautiful smiles you had ever seen, causing you to now deeply blush and bring your head down to hide your pink tinted cheeks.

You pulled up your Text To Speech app so you could better communicate with him and typed your message. It wasn’t long before the female voice spoke robotically told him that you were indeed okay, but that you didn’t really speak most of the time and that your phone was generally how you communicated with the world for those who didn’t know how to sign.

He gave you a small frown, but shook it off when he saw your face again to help lighten the mood, “O-okay. But a-are you sure you’re okay? I don’t mean to pry or anything but, it looks like you got into a pretty bad fight and lost.” He inquired.

You gave him some lame ass excuse of having had a fight with a flight of stairs and lost and about how you seemed to never win them.

Trying to pass the lie off more as the truth, you let out a hardly audible stuttered giggle. You knew it sounded off, but you weren’t about to admit to some random guy that you usually got your ass beat on a daily basis by a group of mean girls.

Even if he was the most attractive guy you’d ever seen, you weren’t that trusting. And you definitely didn’t need to blurt your whole life story to some strange guy in the hallway, and you were sure he wasn’t looking to hear some rando girl’s deepest issues either. So you figured it was best for all parties involved if you kept it short, sweet, and as simple as you could.

You could tell he didn’t believe a word that came out of your phone’s loud speaker, but he must have seen how uncomfortable the topic made you because he let it go and changed the topic at hand to something else, “Okay well, if you ever need help against them, I’m more than happy to mess them up for you as pay back. In fact,” He grabbed your phone from your petite hands, “Here’s my number,” He quipped as he entered himself in as a contact.

The action, though not on the side of unwanted, definitely struck you as odd as you didn’t really know him. But based on how he rambled on and kept a bold stance throughout the whole conversation, you guessed that doing such a thing must’ve not been out of the ordinary for him.

“You know… Maybe we could actually get together for a coffee sometime? You know, so i can give you some fighting tips for when those pesky stairs try ti strike again.”

Now THAT took you for a turn. Not only was the man ACTUALLY speaking to you as if you were a real person, but now he was… practically asking you on a… date…? At least that’s what it seemed like to you.

You knew you should’ve said no for both your sakes, because if the girls who picked on you found out, you’d both probably be paying for it.

They wouldn’t like the fact that someone was actually giving you any of their time. And they surely wouldn’t be okay with the fact that someone was willingly wanting to be around you and give you attention. They would really be upset with you and probably double down on their efforts to make your life a living hell. But something about his starry caring eyes made you cave.

You took your phone back from his hands and typed something down. But before you could explain what you were doing, your eyes widened and you quickly sped away from him. You saw the familiarly unsettling group of girls head to their next class just down the hall from where you both were standing and you didn’t want to be caught in conversation with Seungcheol for fear of reprisal.

He was a bit confused and quite frankly worried that he had scared you off by asking you out so soon when you ran away. But the bubbling worries Seungcheol felt brewing in his abdomen decimated when his phone dinged from his back pocket.

Once he jerked the small rectangular device out of his jeans and read the contact name, he let out a sigh of relief. It was you.

It’s ___, well, my number anyways. Text me when you’re feeling the need for a caffeine fix :)

——

Seungcheol went past the front door of his home and all but threw his backpack from his back to the floor in anger.

He had been texting you back and forth for most of the day. He texted you near minutes after you left his presence to get to your next class.

He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t play it cool and wait the few days most guys did to play hard to get. Not when he had the device/only way he could speak to his mate in his pocket. The pull was far too strong for that already.

Whether it was because he was an alpha and certain things affected him differently than they did most normal wolves, or because he always wanted a mate of his own and he was just so happy to have found you, he wasn’t sure.

Either way, even though he quite literally only just met you, he knew he was already in love with you. How could he not be? Sure he barely knew you and to you he was probably still a total stranger. But to him, he could already tell fate had done the right thing by making the two of you soulmates.

You were smart, you probably out matched even Wonwoo and Jeonghan in intellegence, which was something he didn’t think was possible given that they were the most clever and knowledgeable people he had ever met before.

Your humor rivaled his own when it came to corny dad jokes and dark sense. Which meant not only were you paired well because you never ran out of cringey things to say to one another, but he was also able to find out more information about your personal life much faster.

You were honest and understanding, which were two traits he had to value the most as the leader of a rambunctious pack. Meaning you were already the perfect candidate to help him keep the others in check and to offer them advice when they needed it most.

You were just the right amount of quirky and weird to be able to handle the situation destiny had decided to throw at you. He was absolutely stoked to have you of all people as his mate.

But instead of coming home all giddy and happy waiting to break the exciting news to his pack like he should’ve been, he came home in a furry of primal anger and instinctual rage. He was beyond upset.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the small in person interaction you had had earlier. Seungcheol was known to overanalyze and think of everything possible, it was a must as his large pack’s alpha that he always be as diligent as possible.

So he sat through class after class zoning out his instructors as much as he could reliving the memory. He went over every detail of your fine face and sweet smile. He replayed the locks of your hair falling down in your line of site as you tried to keep them away while your little fingers went tapping away on your phone to speak to him.

But mostly, he noted the cut he saw on your cherry colored lips. He watched as you ducked your head down to try to hide the very evidently recently formed dried streams of tears that spread down your cheeks. He remembered the excessive amount of clothing you used to cover your body and how on edge you seemed while you were in his presence. He fixated on the obviously newly forming bruise on your jaw and the swelling that came with it. And the drive home only gave him more alone time to stew in such scenes.

He knew there was no way a flight of stairs did that to your face. He had gotten into plenty of fights before to be able to tell the difference between when someone’s been beat to hell and back and when someone’s slipped and fell.

It was definitely a person that made those marks on your beautiful face and had cut up your near perfect skin. And that fact made the center of his chest feel hallow and ache in a way it never had before. Because it meant someone was willingly hurting his mate.

He just kept trying to tell himself that he had to find out who the culprit was. One he figure it out, he could make sure they’d never do it again.

“You alright Hyung?” Hansol asked once he heard the older boy’s backpack smack itself against the ground, causing him to look up from his phone and towards the noise.

Seungcheol breathed out heavily, running a shaky hand through his raven colored hair, “Yeah… Yeah I’m- I’m fine I just-” He sighed loudly, “I met my mate today.” He defeatedly let out, plopping himself down on the couch next to his younger brother.

“Really?? That’s great Hyung! You’re the first in the pack to find their mate!” Hansol chirped excitedly, like he wanted to gossip like a little school girl, “What’s she like?” He questioned while turning to Cheol.

Seungcheol leaned his head on the back of the couch they were both sharing and shook his head, “She’s- she’s great. And she’s beautiful. And really funny. She seems super smart too. But…”

The alpha couldn’t help but let his mind wonder while he was mid sentence.

How could someone have been harming you? Why had they started abusing you in the first place? How long had it been going on for? Had you ever even told anyone about it? Didn’t you have anyone else around you that cared about you as much as he did to try to put a stop to it? Hadn’t anyone else noticed your pain the way he had?

“But what Hyung?” The younger boy asked, concerned as to why his leader was so stressed out.

Seungcheol just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why did you try to hide it? Were you at least trying to fight back? Could you even fight back?

“But I think someone’s hurting her.” The elder deadpanned, his seething eyes causing his contacts to disintegrate at the thought of someone physically harming you.

All he could think about was your bruises and cuts. About how you probably had more covered under your thick layer of face makeup. How you probably wore the large amount of clothing you wore to hide them.

All he could focus on was how much you probably cried in pain when the blows were being dished out to you. How you probably begged them to stop hitting you over and over again to no avail. How you probably cried every time it happened. How you probably thought your situation was hopeless.

You were probably scared to death everyday. And he had to stop it. He had to protect you. It was in his nature after all, every wolf needed to keep his/her mate safe. Wolves could never willingly let harm come to their mates if they could help it. Seungcheol was no exception.

“Why do you think that?” Hansol broke him through his thoughts.

The alpha sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration again, “Because she’s all bruised up. She tried to play it off like she fell down a flight of stairs… but there’s just no way. She looks like she’s been someone’s punching bag for-,” Seungcheol swallowed thickly, loathing that he even had to breathe his next words out loud, “-for a long time.”

Hansol hated to see his brothers in pain, especially when it was his oldest brother. He usually made it his mission to take care of everyone else, and he usually look it out on himself pretty hard when he couldn’t. So it was heartbreaking for the American to see him look so drained over something he may not be able to control or fix when it came to his own mate, someone his instincts physically wouldn’t let him forgive himself for if something happened to them.

All the young boy could do was shake his head and give a sorrow filled look, “I’m sorry Hyung. What are you gonna do?”

That was a good question. What was he gonna do? Hell, what could he do? You hadn’t even admitted to him the marks were made by another person yet. How was he supposed to figure out who was behind it if you hadn’t even allowed him the privilege of taking you on a date yet?

“I- I dont know,” He answered honestly, “I have to get her to trust me more. She’s very closed off. But if I can get her to like me back and be my mate, I can track down who it is and take care of them.” Seungcheol nodded, his hands now shakily rubbing together on his lap as he tried not to think of you having to be in pain for that long.

It wasn’t gonna be easy to get you to warm up to him, you’d been abused. There was no way you’d just get to love him immediately, even with the pull. He was sure you’d resist it until you felt safe with him because of everything you’d been through. He was just so worried for you because he knew that that could take time. And he didn’t want your pain to have to continue while he got you to love him.

But it didn’t seem like he had another choice or any other option.

(Last Edited: 3/22/2023)

#seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt au #svt seungcheol #seungcheol #seventeen seungcheol

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sunflowersxms · 2 years ago

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does anyone know how to fix the issue in cas where it won’t let you change hair swatches?

i already removed my more columns mod and it still is broken

if anyone knows of any other mods this could be please lmk!! i want to be able to have my game playable for the new pack at least😭

#things #broken mods #lol #ts4

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lixie-lovie · 4 years ago

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{ Rogue princess | skz }

l.felix x f!reader

Genre: ??? fluff, angst ig, royalty au, princess!reader, star child!felix, idk u tell me

Warnings: a bit angsty, bad relationships at the beginning, issues with parents, vague mention of past death, mention of animals, mentions of running away

((If anything needs to be added to warnings, lmk! I’ll fix it asap))

Word Count: 5.2k

Note: did I write this literally to comfort myself today? Yes. Have fun reading this reallllyyy self indulgent fic lolz. Hope anyone reading this has a good day! Ily

——————

A throne made of gold and satin-like velvet, all tyrian purple. Too large this seat felt, as did the hall full of people standing under gilded light filtering through the large stained glass window. Here you sat, next to your father in an even more ornate throne, in front of a crowd of people who knew your name, your face, but nothing of your soul.

They couldn’t name that green was your favorite color because of the trees you would catch glimpses of through the windows of your tutors room, ever strong through the seasons never having to carry the weight of a kingdom. They would never be able to name why ships made you weary and claustrophobic or that your favorite flowers of springtime are those that bloom away from the castles gardens when eyes aren’t watching. They couldn’t guess your favorite piece of music, the one you never heard at those god forsaken balls. They never could place that instead your favorite would be the one that came ever so gracefully from under your mother’s fingertips at the piano that used to spark so much joy in the hearts of the people, but now sat lonely collecting dust. They didn’t know you longed to reach the stars someday, yearning for their delicate freedom in the inky black sky. They couldn’t tell that you wondered if they felt out of place too.

More so than anything else, they could never guess how much you hated staring at the men kneeling before you now, begging for a wife, a servant to their needs of pleasure, for the sake of “peace.” They would never know the disgust that sent a shiver down your spine at the twisted grin of these men that took your fingers in their too rough grasp and kissed that back of your hand, their sin tainted lips lingering moments too long. Their hands twitching at their sides with their sickening thoughts as they watched you stand from your throne, adjusting the circlet of silver adorning your perfectly crafted hair.

Your father, your king, grinned widely at the propositions made my these men, happy at the prospect of one of them taking your hand, winning your heart. Happy at the prospect of selling you away. A fair trade he’d call it. A duty.

He’d never understand, you came to realize. He was the man who had chosen your mother, the same way these creatures of lust in front of you are now. Readily ridding the world of her happiness and songs, harshly forcing her into a life of servitude, solitude, for the sake of duty.

“None of them would get it”

You’d say to yourself silently as you excused yourself to the washroom, wiping your disgraced palm clean of the suitors that you had been dancing with’s sweat, your nose scrunched in disgust. In the washroom you would stand, hands now pressed to the too warm mirror in that stuffy room, staring at your reflection. Your reflection stared back at you tauntingly, the flushed cheeks and too perfect hair, until your eyes got caught on the thin band gracing your head. The piece of metal that used to be the only thing tying you to your mother’s lineage, now was only an unwelcome reminder of your duties lined up in the other room, waiting for your hand in marriage. You sighed harshly, ripping the despicable band of silver off of your head, ruining the perfect waves your hair was lying in before. You laughed too hard, running your hands harshly over the layers of paint adorning your face. Your breaths became ragged as you tore the cloth sigil from the bodice of your dress, the only thing left showing your status in this deplorable kingdom and soon you realized, the only thing holding you back.

You stared at your own reflection, a haggard appearance of a forgotten princess staring back at you, and you smiled. Quickly, you rushed to the door, checking for footsteps, before finding your way to the nearest maids chambers. Stepping inside you grabbed a few essentials and a cloak as black as the night’s sky. Once you felt satisfied in what you had taken, you steeled your nerves before quickly and cautiously making your way to the stables, now abandoned with everyone attending the event.

Your eyes scanned the area quickly before settling on a horse with hair as white as snow and eyes the color of indigo. Your form slowed, your breaths coming out in soft pants as you made your way towards the creature in awe of its beauty. You reached your hand out slowly, to gain the trust of the majestic beauty. Suddenly and strikingly you heard a voice sounding from behind you.

“My lady! Where do you think you’re going?” A rough, calloused hand gripped your shoulder tightly, startling you. You turned around quickly, your arms raising defensively. As the offending party grabbed your wrists to gain your attention your excitement died down and your breaths came out easier when you took in the features of Changbin, your personal first knight assigned to you. Your expression became one of relief as you took in the worried, curious look resting on his angular features in the low light of the stables.

“I’m leaving, Changbin. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I can’t go through with this. Please don’t try to stop me..” You said gripping his hands in yours, staring into his eyes hoping to portray the feelings pooling in the base of your throat, causing your words to come out choked. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

“I’m sure I couldn’t change your mind if I wanted to, princess. Here, take this.” He said, smiling softly. A gentle sigh left his lips as one hand reached into one of the many holsters on his person, while the other drifted to comfortingly rest on the crown of your head. His large, rough hands pressed a small holstered knife into your palm. “It’s a blade your mother used to use. I was supposed to give it to you tonight at the ball, but this felt like the right time.”

For the first time that night you smiled genuinely, staring into his eyes softly in thanks while turning to prepare the horse for your disappearance. Changbin’s hands found your waist, hoisting you up and onto the back of the horse before he quietly led you out of the stables, checking for prying eyes and quietly uttering you a safe trip. You made simple promises to return safely to him, unsure of how much truth they held, but sure of the comfort filling your chest with the smile gracing his face.

With that, you turned your head to the dark forest ahead and took a deep breath to steady yourself before going on this possibly dangerous adventure. Then, like lightning striking your nervous system, you heard a voice you had hoped to never hear again.

“Y/n!” Your father’s voice rang out over the courtyard causing you to gasp and whip your head in the direction of the sound. Changbin’s worried eyes stayed trained on your face as your indecision bubbled in your chest at your father’s commanding tone. Quickly muttering some words Changbin sent the horse off running in the direction of the forest, your confused mind allowing the actions to happen wordlessly as you watched Changbin draw his sword against his own king to protect you and allow you the freedom you had longed for.

---------

It had been moments, maybe hours, you were unsure. The sky bared no stars as you stared hopelessly heaven bound with your eyes blurred. The chilly air hurt your cheeks now dry from the rivers of tears at your actions. Your steed came to a slow, wearily looking around the dangerous wood. All that was to be heard around you were the low grumbles of the predators and the soft snapping of twigs. In the haze of your misery you were lost and cold, unsure of even your own safety as you whipped your head uneasily in every direction of unknown noises.

It was then that a loud howl sounded from somewhere nearby, a chorus of others following suit. You tried catching sight of the beasts making the horrid sound, but soon it seemed as though the guttural growls were surrounding you, closing in on their next meal. You yelped loudly as the horse became unsteady and afraid, dashing off towards the nearest escape. From your lips feeble shrieks of protest left, but to no avail. The creature’s of the hunt followed suit, a game of cat and mouse. Suddenly, one creature, the largest, leaped out from beyond a too dark clearing in front of your path, baring its fangs and lashing out with its dastardly claws. The horse came to an unsteady halt, rearing back and knocking your frail form harshly to the ground. You inhaled sharply, rolling away, your limbs tucked inward, as fast as possible from the now trampling hooves and paws. You held your breath, covering yourself with your arms and you cried. Tears poured down your face as you waited for the steps of the animals to recede. You heard their noises of primal instinct and found yourself counting the minutes down until they were long gone and satisfied with their hunt.

When your arms went numb and the tip of your nose was sufficiently frozen, you turned over in the dirt, wet with dew, to stare at the empty sky. Your tears came until they could no longer, your breaths uneven with bitter air exhaling harshly from your lungs, and as your eyes stayed trained upwards, you allowed yourself one prayer to any god that would listen.

Please. Just let me see one star. One being from above that would understand.

Abruptly you were taken aback by an unusually chilling wind blowing through the branches of the tall oak trees, causing you to wrap your arms tightly against your grimy, shivering self. Slowly you allowed the exhaustion of the night to take over your features, your eyes closing allowing sleep to take over your dirt ridden form. Finally, you felt some semblance of peace come over you as you drifted off, a prayer still sitting heavy on your pale, chapped lips.

“You’re one weird human.” Your ears suddenly perked as a deep voice suddenly sounded from somewhere nearby. You screamed, scurrying to cover yourself with some kind of protection. Your eyes scanned the surrounding area frantically searching for the source of the voice.

“W-who’s there?” You said with as little confidence as you could muster. You cursed your voice for shaking silently as you continued your frantic search for this possible danger. Your eyes landed on a large branch nearby and your legs moved on their own accord, sliding you harshly against the hard, cold ground to scramble to grip the branch tightly, turning and holding it out in a manner you could only hoped looked more threatening than it felt.

“So silly..” The deep voice chuckled out from somewhere behind you. You yelped, waving the stick in the opposite direction, hoping not to lose your footing against any loose rocks or sturdy tree roots. Your dress was torn and soaked and the gentle breeze now moving in random intervals was jarring and dancing around your cloaked form, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A sudden snapping sound from a branch above your head caused you to scream, throwing the large branch with all of your feeble might towards the offending sound. A larger breeze blew by, obscuring your vision with your own hair and you scrambled to remove it from your vision. As your finally were able to get a glimpse of a male slinking towards you another breeze blew harshly by causing your to sigh sharply, your hands flying back up to your face to remove the hair blocking your vision yet again. “Your gonna hurt someone throwing those things.” The voice sounded again, humor twinkling off of his lips with smooth curls of laughter.

“Who are you? What do you want with me??” You said, your feet backpedaling as you finally removed your hair from your face again to take in the sight before you. Your eyes scanned the clearing of trees in the dim light unable to find the man you had been questioning and just as you began to question what was even real, you heard him again, your head whipping in the direction of the sound.

“I should be asking you that, considering you called for me..” He said, the humor never leaving his tone. You began to feel embarrassed at the thought of this man laughing at your pitiful state. Your cheeks grew red and your ears felt hot as you began wondering why you didn’t feel as in danger as you had earlier that night, deciding to deem it all on how wild the rest of your night had already been. Instead of answering you simply furrowed your brow, scanning and searching with your eyes still trying to find the source of the inquiry. Out of the blue in the still night, yet another breeze blew by roughly, chilling you to the bone. A branch suddenly creaked above you and you scrambled back to get a view of what could be perched there.

“Looking for me?” What you found, illuminated by the dim white moonlight, was a boy, seemingly about your age, swinging his legs softly to the gentle sway of the winds. His hair was strikingly white, pure as snow. His pale skin shone softly as if covered gingerly in new born stars. His eyes held mirth, much like his cheshire smile, and his whole body was lax with amusement as he stared down at you. In shock you stumbled backwards, falling over yourself and landing harshly on the ground, yet again tonight staring up at the sky. You felt the wind tousle your hair, but you didn’t seem to have the energy to care much as your mind grappled with its own questioning thoughts.

“Uhm..lady? Are..haha..are you okay?” His question, broken with impish laughter, felt comforting in a way as he leaned over your form, searching your face with curious eyes and a interrogative furrowed brow. You turned your head softly, staring into the now shocked eyes of the boy with the angular features and moon like eyes before suddenly your lips twitched, the corners of them quirking before a laugh began to bubble out of your chest. The laugh itself with incredulous and loud, joyous like a little kid finally discovering how something works. The boy looked back at you, tilting his head like a confused puppy as he watched you sit up slightly, leaning on your elbows. He didn’t make a move to back up or give you any space, instead leaning closer to examine you further.

“Did you hit your head or something, funny lady?” He said, his deep voice and boy-like expression of wonder and frustrating confusion only spurring your laughter on further as you grappled for breath. The events of tonight were catching up with your exhausted state and you found yourself wondering if this boy who shone so brightly on this gloomy night was even real.

Once you could finally catch your breath you sat upright and really took in the sight of him. He may have seemed young on the outside, but somehow he held a powerful aura, like he knew more then he let on. His smile was dazzling as he stared up at you with eyes that twinkled with a silent knowledge. You felt as though he was looking past your filthy outward appearance, and instead he was reading through your soul, listening silently to the story you couldn’t find the words to tell.

He stood suddenly, as if he found the answer to the question that had been dancing around like the winds, curling through each of your minds. His smile became softer and more genuine as he looked down at your still seated self and slowly outstretched his hand. It was a gesture you were unfamiliar with. It wasn’t a sudden, demanding grasp of your non-consenting hand. It wasn’t rough and calloused, with a predator-like grin gracing his features, but, instead, as you slid your hand over his palm in a silent proclamation of trust you found yourself reveling in how silky smooth his larger, more slender hand felt wrapping around yours in a protective gesture. He glanced at you, a playful smirk playing on his cherry red lips.

“Do you trust me?” He said, his deep voice breathy and patient, allowing you whatever amount of time you felt like you needed before you nodded slowly, hesitantly. He tilted his head in a munificent gesture, encouraging you to verbalize your thoughts. You felt the minuscule inkling of a curl to your lips forming, your eyes catching on how he seemed to be emitting light in this dim forest. The wind blew softly, ruffling your hair and caressing your now heated cheeks. He watched your features carefully as you bowed your head and giggled to yourself at the sensation of the winds dancing around the both of you. The chilly night felt warm as you turned your head slowly and methodically towards him again, your eyes glistening with an unreadable emotion and you breathed in deeply in a more relaxed manner.

“I do.” You said, beaming up at him now, your small, frail hand squeezing his a little tighter. He smiled fully now and to you it felt like sunshine. He watched your face, entranced in your beauty taking not of how grateful he was to have answered your call tonight, vowing to bring that smile back whenever he could. Your expression grew concerned as the look in his eye changed and he suddenly pulled you towards him, wrapping one arm around your shoulders before taking off in a sprint.

You tried to match his pace with a yelp, the wind now pushing you around forcefully. Your cries of protest were drowned out with his hysterical giggling. He forced you forward for a few more minutes as you began to question his strange motives before suddenly he came to a stop. His landing was much more graceful then your sudden stumbling forward, but as you gained your footing your objections died in your throat as you took in the sights around you. The forest behind you now, you stood in a clearing with grasses tickling your ankles, but the most impressive thing about this sight was the flowers. In full bloom, covering the surrounding area as far as your eyes could see were twinkling white flowers. Some stayed small and subdued, while others were larger, demanding more attention, but all of them shown with outstanding luminescence. Your breath caught in your throat as you stood completely rigid, taking in the sight.

You then felt a soft breeze, pulling your out of your shock with a shiver before you felt an unexpected heat radiating from behind you. You felt a soft hand trace your jaw from somewhere behind as you held your breath expectantly. His hand moved from your jaw to trace the outline of your neck, gathering your hair lying there and tying it tenderly away from your face. Your sudden inhale as his fingers tickled the nape of your neck caused him to chuckle, his close proximity allowing you to feel his warm breath fanning over your shoulders. You suddenly felt balmy as he leaned his face closer, his breaths coming out in an intoxicating manner, dancing around the area where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Look up.” He said, his voice coming out in a heady whisper. You gasped as you complied, your head whipping up too quickly, causing the male to snicker behind you. You couldn’t seem to care as you took in the sight before you. The once empty sky was now covered in brilliant gleaming stars, all feeling as though they were staring right at the two of you, encouragingly. You weren’t sure what they were encouraging, but just the silly thought itself had you laughing softly, your eyes slowly trailing over everything in front of you yet again. If it weren’t for the questioning hum the man had released you may not have even noticed the sturdy arms wrapped loosely around your waist or the cool skin of his cheek now resting on your exposed shoulder. You may not have even taken note of the breath now fanning comfortingly over your own blushing cheek of the look in his eyes as you turned slightly in his arms to get a better view of this new expression.

He took in your overwhelmed face as you tried to form words for the thoughts racing through your mind and he laughed, his head tilted back and chuckles racking his toned chest. You took in the movement behind his green tunic, complimenting his pale skin and you blushed again, turning your face away sharply. He gripped your shoulder with one hand softly, making sure not to startle you, while his other hand outstretched softly to point towards the cushiony grass beside of you. You took the hint and made a move to sit and take in the view before you.

He giggled as he helped move the layers of your dress away so you could sit comfortably before taking his seat beside you. You found yourself becoming encumbered with exhaustion and slowly with the gentle breeze swaying the twinkling lights, you let your head pull to the side to rest easily on his shoulder. He moved slowly as to not jostle you allowing more comfort for your tired form.

“You know, lady. I never caught your name..” He said, a hint of gentle humor lacing his deep baritone.

“I’m sorry..” You hummed out, “I’m y/n. Supposed princess of this kingdom.” You said, your tone sounding harsh even to your own ears. “I’m not sure I’d like to even ask who you are.” You said, laughing to help lighten the mood.

“Hmm.. I don’t think I was ever given a name where I am from.” Your brow furrowed at his response as you moved your head from its resting perch to look up at his questioningly. He laughed again, his body folding as he chuckled at your expression. “A story for another time, y/n.” You accepted his response begrudgingly, distracted by the way your name sounded on his lips.

“So what are you going to do when morning comes, little one?” He said, no malice in his tone. You sighed harshly flopping backwards to lay in the soft grass fully, surrounding yourself in the perfumed scent of the fluttering flowers. He took that as an answer in itself as he watched you, amused.

“You need to go back.” You groaned loudly as these words left his lips and he laughed as he shushed you, pushing you softly causing you to dramatically roll over laying your head on his thigh, a noise of protest leaving your bemused lips. “Let me finish would you!” He continued, annoyance playfully covering the syllables while he ran his fingers gently through your messy hair. You smiled, appeased for a moment while staring longingly towards the stars above. The sky was lightening and you felt your smile slipping at the realization that they would be gone again soon.

He frowned watching your face grow frantic with concern before softly resting his cools fingertips on the bottom of your chin, non-forcefully turning your face in his lap to look at his own passionate expression. He tilted his head to match the angle of your, his silliness making you giggle softly before continuing.

“You may have to go back, but you can always come back here, it’s all for you.” He let his eyes slowly trail over you, landing on your hand twisting anxiously tearing up small strands of the grass without realizing. He slid one of his hands comfortingly down your arm, trailing his fingertips lightly over the back of your hands. It felt as if getting a sunburn, getting too close to the beauty of something terrifying. “Look to the stars, I’ll always be there, watching and waiting.” He finished, his voice getting deeper with each second he stared at your animated expression staring up at him expectantly.

You felt your eyes welling up with tears at the peace being here brought to you, knowing it would be ending soon. You tried forming words, prayers, but your lips were too wobbly and my voice was too weak.

“When will I see you again? Wh-what should I even call you??” You finally managed to squeak out, the thick, hot tears you felt curling down your cheeks didn’t sting nearly as much as the thought of leaving him here, only to return to the torturous duties lined up for you at your home. He smiled sadly at you, blurring your senses with how ethereal he looked. His hands twitched against your wrist as he continued his comforting path, avoiding your eyes as he furrowed his brow in thought. Without thinking, out of desperation for an answer, you swiftly intertwined your own fingers with his, your palms slotting together as if fitting missing puzzle pieces together.

“You’ll see me when you need me.. but I’ll always be there.” You pursed your lips in a pout and he smiled again, taking his hand once tangled in your hair and running it slowly, methodically over your furrowed brow, smoothing the skin there and allowing your features to find solace again. “and why don’t you give me a name that you like, y/n.” He offered, his voice softer than you had heard it before, no amusement, only timid hope.

A name. Something so uniquely human. Something lovingly crafted for an individual. Something that holds meaning and myth. Something totally your own. You frowned in thought for a moment and he watched as your eyes glazed over patiently. Suddenly, you sat up rigidly, turning to face him, leaning closer then you had ever been previously. The sudden movement startled him, causing him to laugh awkwardly, his eyes blown wide while staring at your expectant and excited face.

“I’ve got it! I’m going to call you Felix!” You exclaimed. He furrowed his brow, tilting his head and repeating the syllables slowly, testing the way they tasted on his lips. Then he smiled at you teasingly, taking your breath away briefly. You rushed to find some way to explain yourself before the heat fighting it’s way up your neck found your cheeks. You stared into his eyes determined before explaining. “It means happiness. I found happiness tonight, here with you, when I couldn’t back there. They may not ever make me happy, but I have you. My happiness. My Felix.” You finished, grinning widely, appeased.

His grin couldn’t be contained as he laughed softly at how cute you could be. As he let his grin take over his features he let his eyes drift over your close proximity. His fingers began to unfold from between yours, drifting their way up your wrist, feeling your rushing heart beat. They slowly danced over your shoulder making you shiver slightly, as he noticed his teeth took purchase in his bottom lip, the movement catching your eye. His fingertips barely tickled the skin of your neck, causing goosebumps to break out over your skin. Once his hand pushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ear you could hear your own breathing, practically panting at his gentle actions. The longing in your eyes causing his eyes to become hooded with a guarded emotion.

Slowly, his hand found its place on your cheek, his cool palm was in great contrast to your too warm skin. You reveled in the feeling, yearning to remember the way this solace felt in this moment. He smiled softly, a flash of teeth all you could see before he was leaning in tenderly. He allowed you to make the moves on your own as well, only continuing forward when you would and only you were both nearly touching, so close you were breathing the same air, he allowed himself a glance at your pink lips. His tongue darted out to wet his own lips before he pulled back slightly a serious expression on his face.

“Can I?” His voice came out breathy, heavy with something you couldn’t name. You smiled softly, pleased with his ability to ask, always thinking of your feelings first. You couldn’t even resist long enough to answer before you were wrapping some of your fingers around his larger wrist, tangling the others in his too pretty hair, pulling his face towards yours and connecting your lips together passionately.

This kiss was unlike anything you had ever heard of, instead of sparks and passion it was butterflies and subtle hints of laughter you could feel bubbling in your chest. The kiss was lingering and slightly bittersweet. You could taste the saltiness on your lips from your tears mixing with the sweetness of his lips on yours. It was perfectly melancholy and grossly beautiful. Tragedy in the form of serendipity.

As you parted Felix’s hands soothed your cheeks and wiped your tears, a smile playing jokingly on his lips. He poked your nose and leaned forward to kiss your forehead lovingly. You smiled through the onslaught of tears and gasped at the dawning sky above you now. Your eyes frantically searched for stars you knew you wouldn’t be able to see anymore, until they fell on Felix’s sad expression. He tried to smile softly for your sake as he stroked your cheek gently.

He then removed himself from you, before standing and helping you up as well. Once you were both standing, staring at each other with eyes full of unspoken words he breathed in deeply before leaning in to plant another swift, stolen kiss on your lips. You smiled as he pulled away, staring at the way his handsome features curled in amusement at your shocked form. He then, without your noticing, had moved his hand to the back of your head and with a soft mutter of words he knew you wouldn’t understand, you were suddenly unconscious in his arms. He lifted you, bridal style, and began walking back towards the forest where you had first met.

——

Once you all were back to the castle, a gentle breeze swaying the curtains, he laid you tenderly on your bed, smoothing your hair out around you and covering you with your own cushion-like blankets.

“Forgive me, princess. I usually would have asked.” He laughed quietly as you stirred in your sleep, as stubborn as you would have been awake. “I won’t be here when you awaken, but I’ll be back for you. You never have to be alone.” He slowly leaned forward, delicately placing a feathery light kiss on your lips. He made his way back to the window, tiptoeing as to not wake you, before turning to get one final glance at you.

“I’ll stay for you, y/n. Always.” He said, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips as a singular tear, the color of moonlight fell from his eye before all that was left in the room was a lonely princess and a gentle, light air dancing through the window like laughter and stolen kisses on a night only two will remember.

——————

#lee Felix #Felix x reader #lee Felix x reader #reader insert #skz #stray kids #straykids x reader #rogue princess #royalty!au #princess!reader #moonchild!felix #star!felix #fluff #angst #self indulgence at its finest #one shot #ill edit this later

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onyxsims · 4 years ago

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So I haven’t played in awhile but I’ve never had this issue. They look fine in cas with cc on, but for some reason in game I am getting this weird issue. I’m going to update my drivers and pray that fixes it, but if anyone knows how to resolve this, please lmk ♥

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platonicteenwolf · 4 years ago

Text

Wolf Moon (S1E1) Part II

Teen Wolf x Reader Series Rewrite

A/N: Let me know if any of the links are wacky or if I mess up on any of the pronouns cause posting three versions is sometimes a bit confusing so I can fix it if needed. Also lmk if there’s a misspelling or grammar issue too :)

They/Them Pronouns Version

He/Him Pronouns Version

Next Part / Masterlist

Warnings: dead body, swearing

Lacrosse stick strapped to his backpack, Scott pedals into the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School among the swarm of students. Skateboarders jump steps, potheads take barely concealed tokes, girls and guys hold hands, guys and guys hold hands, (yes it’s California.)

As Scott pulls his bike to one of the racks to lock it up, a pristine BMW with a license plate that reads: JCKSN37, blazes into the lot and stops in the space next to the racks. Scott, still kneeling, gets bumped in the back when the driver’s side door opens.

Jackson Whittemore, exceptionally good-looking and usually oblivious to anyone not within his social or financial circle, steps out to notice that Scott hit his car by being near it.

“Dude. Watch the paint job.”

He’s completely unaware of hitting Scott as he grabs his own lacrosse equipment.

“Yo Jackson!”

Hearing his favorite word, Jackson looks up and heads over to meet his friends. All good looking jocks with big smiles and expensive cars, pretty girls coming up to say hello.

—————

A school bell rings outside a brick building swarming with students.

“Alright let’s see this thing,” Stiles says, a little too eagerly. Now standing in front of the school, Scott takes off his backpack and pulls his shirt up a few inches to show Stiles and I the bandage on his lower back.

“Oh damn that looks bad!” I reach out to touch it and Scott flinches back. “Oops, sorry”

“It was too dark to see much but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.”

Scoffing, Stiles countered “A wolf bit you? No, not a chance.”

“I heard a wolf howling.”

”No, you didn’t.”

“What do you mean ‘No, I didn’t?’ How do you know what I heard?”

Jumping in, I explained, “California doesn’t have wolves. Not for the last sixty years. The animals were almost hunted to extinction in the 1920s California Gold Rush.” Both boys looked at me in surprise. “What,” I questioned, “I like history.”

Seemingly accepting that answer Scott continued on. “Well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf, then you’re definitely not going to believe me when I tell you I saw the body.”

“Holy shit!” This was amazing!

“You what? Are you kidding me!?” He almost looked like a kid who just found the hidden candy cabinet.

“I wish. I’m going to have nightmares about it for a month.”

There was still one thing I’ve been wondering about though, “Which half of the body was it?”

“Oh- it was the top half. I saw her dead eyes staring back at me. It was scary.” Scott shuddered, thinking about her lifeless body laying in the forrest.

“Well I think that’s freaking awesome,” Stiles concluded. “This is seriously the best thing that’s happened to this town since...”

Stiles suddenly got very distracted by something behind Scott. I turned around to see what it is and you’ll never guess.

“...since the birth of Lydia Martin who’s walking toward us right now.”

A drop-dead gorgeous junior named Lydia Martin was walking towards the school doors like it was a fashion show runway in Milan. Stiles has had the biggest crush on Lydia ever since we were kids.

“Hey Lydia, how are you? You look--” She walks right past him not even giving him a second glance. “...like you’re going to ignore me.”

Scott chuckled at his failed attempt in flirting with the girl as I pat him on his shoulder.

“You’ll get her next time champ.” Stiles shot me an unappreciative glare as I held my hands up in defense and he started grumbling about how unfair everything was.

“You guys are the cause of this, you know. Dragging me down to your nerd depths. I’m a nerd by association. I’ve been Scarlet-nerded by you.”

As we reach the steps of the school I get ready to part with the dynamic duo to get to my class. “Alright boys, I’ve got first with Harris so I’ll see y’all later.” Mentions of good luck were lost behind me as I entered the thick crowd ready to start the day.

—————

First period English. Scott takes the desk next to Stiles as the teacher, Mr. Curtis starts writing instructions on the chalkboard.

“As you all know by now, there was indeed a body found in the woods last night. I’m sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened but I’ve been told that the police have a suspect in custody.”

Scott looks to Stiles who shrugs, news to him as well.

“Which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus on your desk outlining the semester. Read it now. And by read I don’t mean skim.”

As the students begin reading a cell phone starts ringing out of nowhere. Scott glances up and looks around. The other students quietly read the syllabus, seemingly not hearing the noise. Gazing about, he can’t seem to find the source until his eyes fall on the windows of the classroom...

Outside - across the quad, Scott sees a girl sitting on a bench who he will come to know as Allison Argent. Sixteen and radiating with an innocent beauty. When she puts the cell phone to her ear, it becomes obvious that, despite the closed windows and the distance, this is the ringing Scott is somehow able to hear.

More astonishingly, Scott can hear both Allison and her caller.

“Mom, three calls on my first day is a little overdoing it,” Allison teased.

“Just making sure you’re there okay and you’ve got everything you need.” But Allison digs through her bag, becoming alarmed.

“Everything except a pen. Oh my God, I didn’t actually forget a pen.”

“Don’t panic. I’m sure you can borrow one from another student.”

“Okay, okay, I gotta’ go. Love ya.”

Unable to take his eyes off the extraordinary girl, Scott watches the school’s principal join her on the steps.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” The Principal guides her across the quad, their conversation becoming clearer to Scott with every step.

“So you were saying San Francisco isn’t where you grew up?”

“No, but we stayed for more than a year which is unusual in my family.”

Even when Allison and the Principal disappear from view, Scott hears the clatter of the building door opening, the clicking of their heels on the tile floor of the hall.

“Well, hopefully, Beacon Hills is your last stop for a while.” The door to the classroom opened, causing the rest of the class to look up.

The principle turns to address the room. “Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome.”

Scott barely breathes as Allison heads for the one empty desk left in the room. Right behind him. She puts her notebook down, then glances up to see Scott turned toward her. Holding out a pen. With a relieved but curious smile, she takes it from him.

“Thanks.”

Scott gives her a nod, turning around with a proud expression. Looking up at the front of the room, Mr. Curtis stands up to start the lesson.

“We’ll begin with Kafka’s metamorphosis on page 133...”

—————

The school bell rings throughout the halls indicating its time to move to your next class. As I walked out of my classroom I spotted Stiles coming out of his. Jogging towards him to catch up, I shout his name to grab his attention. Whipping his head around he greets me with the classic, dopey, Stilinski smile. “Hey bub, what’s up?” I ask.

Rolling his eyes at the nickname, he grumbles all about how boring his English class was. “...oh! And there’s a new girl at school today!”

Interesting, I thought. Spotting Scott in the distance we both quicken our pace to meet with him at his locker.

—————

As he grabs his lock to open the door, Scott hears Allison just down the corridor. Looking towards where she stands they connect eyes. She starts to smile, recognizing the cute guy who gave her the pen. But then Lydia Martin swoops in front of her.

“That jacket is absolutely killer. Where did you get it?”

“My Mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco,” Allison explains.

Suddenly Jackson, Lydia’s boyfriend, walks up to the pair and puts his arm around Lydia and she greets him with a kiss.

Turning back towards his locker, Scott spotted Y/N and Stiles walking up to him.

—————

Looking at the Alpha Male and his arm candy across the hall, I turn towards the boys with a confused look on my face.

“Can someone tell me how the new girl is here all of five minutes and she’s already hanging with Lydia’s clique?”

“Because she’s hot. Beautiful people herd together,” Stiles answers. He’s got a point. He steps up to open his own locker next to Scott’s.

“Is that why Lydia isn’t herding with you?”

“Lydia’s a long term project, okay? And trust me, I’ve got all the patience in the world for a high yield investment like her.”

You’ve got to give him credit. He’s committed.

—————

Head cocked slightly, Scott tunes into the conversation from the other end of the corridor, voices coming into focus.

“So,” Lydia exclaims, “this weekend there’s a party.”

“A party?”

Jackson leaned on the lockers next to him, arm now wrapped around Lydias torso. “Yeah, Friday night. You should come.”

“I can’t. It’s Family Night this Friday. But thanks for asking.”

“You sure? Everyone’s going after the scrimmage”

“You mean like football?”

“Football is a joke at Beacon. The sport here is Lacrosse. We won the state championship the last three years--“

Cutting in Lydia praises, “Because of a certain team captain.”

“We have practice in a few minutes,” Jackson explains. “You don’t have to be anywhere, do you?”

“Well, no, I was just going--“

Lydia claps her hands in excitement, “Perfect! You’re coming.”

—————

A whistle blowing echoes across the field. The Lacrosse Team’s Coach gathers the team on the field, Stiles and Scott lagging behind.

“But if you play I’ll have no one to talk to on the bench! You really gonna’ do that to your best friend?”

“Hey! No fair.” I look toward Stiles pouting when he gives me an obnoxious look.

“You don’t count.” I shoved him sticking my tongue out and watched as Stiles accidentally collided with Scott.

“Oops sorry Scott,” I apologize.

With an amused smile after watching our banter Scott continued his argument. “I can’t sit out again. My whole life is sitting on the sidelines. This season, I make first line.” He heads for the field, pausing to see Lydia climbing the bleachers. And stepping right behind her... Allison.

I look towards the boy and follow his gaze behind me where I see the girls sitting. “Hey,” I nudged Stiles who was busy putting all his gear down around him in a destructive manner. “I think Scott’s got a crush on the new girl.”

“What? What makes you say that?”

“Look!” I point towards where Scott stands, still starring dreamily at Allison, but he’s suddenly interrupted when a lacrosse stick hits him in the chest.

“McCall! You’re in the goal.”

Scott turns to Coach Bobby Finstock, a man with little comprehension of the difficulties of teenage life. He tosses Scott the bundle of goalie equipment.

“But I’ve never played goal.”

“I know. Scoring some shots will give the boys a confidence boost. It’s a first day back thing. Get them energized, fired up!”

“What about me?”

“Try not to take any in the face.”

This is not gonna end well, I think to myself.

—————

Stepping into the net, Scott glances to the bleachers where Allison watches with Lydia, eyes focusing on them.

“Who is that,” Allison questions.

Him? I’m not sure who he is. Why?”

“He’s in my English class.”

Scott looks up, shocked to hear Allison asking about him. But with his hearing momentarily turned up, he flinches at the whistle blow, sound ringing through his skull.

One of the bigger players charges forward as the Assistant Coach passes the ball to him. Catching it, he whips his stick forward, hurling the ball toward the goal.

Still reeling from the whistle, Scott looks up too late to see the ball soaring toward him. It bounces right off his helmet and into the net. The team laughs wickedly. Even Coach snickers.

Cheeks burning under his mask, Scott readies himself for the next player. When the whistle blows again, he’s ready. The Assistant Coach passes the ball to the next player who catches it and fires it right at the goal.

Scott moves startlingly fast, almost an instantaneous reaction. Then he notices the player staring at him with a mixture of disappointment and surprise. Scott has the ball.

“Yeah!” Stiles shouts from the sideline, impressed with his friends newfound luck. “See I told you he was practicing,” I brag to Stiles.

When the next player takes the shot, Scott catches the ball again. And then again. And again. Nothing can get past him.

In the bleachers, Allison and Lydia sit forward.

“He seems like he’s pretty good,” Allison continues to stare at Scott practicing on the field

“Very good.” Intrigued, Lydia keeps her gaze locked on Scott who now stands with a far more confident posture. Until he sees that Jackson is next in line. Glaring at Scott, he practically strangles the lacrosse stick with his gloves.

“Oh God...” Scott croaks with fear.

The Assistant Coach tosses the ball up. Jackson launches forward, catching the ball and spinning around to fire it at the goal. But Scott moves with supernatural precision. The ball lands right in the pocket of the goalie stick.

Stiles and I let out hollers of excitement, jumping up from the bench. In the bleachers, Lydia stands and cheers as well causing Jackson to throw a look at her. She returns his glare with a sly smile, a warning to step up his game.

Grinning, Scott gives the goalie stick a whirl, spinning it with a flick of his wrist and sending the ball soaring right into the pocket of the stunned Assistant Coach’s stick.

—————

In the woods, Scott retraces his steps from last night with Stiles and I following behind him.

“I don’t know what it was. It was like, I had all the time in the world to catch the ball.”

Walking towards a bank we came to a river we had to cross. I hope Scott knows where he’s going. After seeing nowhere to cross we trudged through the river soaking our feet in the water. If my shoes smell after this I’m gonna kill him.

Reaching the other side, Scott continued with his worries. “And that’s not the only weird thing. I mean I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. And I can smell things.”

“Smell things? Like what,” Stiles questions.

“Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket.”

“I don’t have any...” Stiles pulls out a lint-covered piece of wrapped gum.

Looking up at Scott in shock, he just shrugged, continuing his walk into the woods. Double checking, I ask him, “so all this started with the bite?”

“What if it’s an infection? What if my body is flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?”

“I’ve actually heard of this,” Stiles starts, “It’s a specific kind of infection.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I think it’s called... Lycanthropy.”

“Oh my god.” I roll my eyes at his accusation. He can’t be serious.

“No I’m serious! This is important!”

“What’s that? Is it bad? It sounds bad.”

“It is. But only once a month.”

“Once a month?”

“On the night of a full moon. Awroooo”

Scott looks at him. And then it clicks. Giving him a push, we continued walking.

“Stiles you’re such a dumbass sometimes,” I chide.

“Hey, he’s the one who heard a wolf howling.”

“There could be something seriously wrong with me!” Scott looks back at Stiles with a look of fear.

“I know! You’re a werewolf! Grrr!” He slashes his hands through the air in a claw motion and I take this opportunity to stick my leg out in front of him and watch as he trips.

As Stiles falls to the forrest floor Scott and I laugh at his stupidity. “Okay, obviously, I’m kidding. But if you see me in shop class melting down all the silver I can find it’s because Friday’s a full moon.”

We seemed to reach the destination because Scott started to look around the area.

“I swear this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running, I dropped my inhaler...”

“Maybe the killer moved the body.”

“If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like eighty bucks.”

As the boys thought of different theories I looked towards the woods and saw someone walking towards us. Is that.. Derek Hale?

“Hello,” I greet, waving to the man.

Stiles looks up at me and then to the man and taps Scott on the arm, pulling him to his feet. Derek Hale. Nineteen and unquestionably handsome, he has a rougher look than the cleanly shaven Beacon Hills boys.

“What are you doing here?”

Both Scott and Stiles are too stunned to speak at first “This is private property.”

“Sorry, we didn’t know,” Stiles assures.

Derek stares at Scott, barely noticing Stiles or I.

Scott opens his mouth to speak to the man but then closes it, at a loss for words.

I take this as an opportunity explain. “We were just looking for something but we’ll leave. Sorry to bother you.”

As we’re turning to go, Derek tosses an object to Scott. His inhaler. When he looks up, Derek is already walking away.

Now finding his voice, Scott mutters, “Aight, come on. I’ve gotta get to work.”

“Dude, that was Derek Hale, “Stiles exclaims. “You remember, right? He’s only a few years older than us.”

“Remember what?”

“His family. They all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago.”

We used to have a class together in school. “I remember the cops pulling him out of class to tell him,” I tell the boys. “I wonder what he’s doing back.”

Scott eyes the inhaler in his hand, closing his fist over it. “Come on,” he says again.

—————

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