#not a babysitter
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Episode 4x02 "Are You There, God? It's Me, Dean Winchester":
Episode 12x19 "The Future":
Not a babysitter, just a guardian angel.
#what is he supposed to do dean?#humans are hard to understand sometimes#especially dean#poor cas#he is not a dick#not a guardian#not a babysitter#what is he then?#what about a savior?#what about the one with a crack in his chassis?#or just cas?#destiel#deancas#castiel#dean winchester#spn 4x02#Are You There God? It's Me Dean Winchester#spn 12x19#The Future#I still don't master gif making#so be nice please
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(PART 1 WITH FULL CONTEXT AND EVIDENCE INCLUDED IN BOTH PARTS) lmao Iām pissed. Stop letting little kids get away with harassing people just because theyāre little kids challenge + stop letting 13 and under into 14 going into 15-18 DFTM/HMF spaces challenge and stop making fun of me for saying that challenge @ whoever the fuck person named Mollie who was so cringe that they made a fake point against me and tried to diss me with an Ohio meme (What ššš) for saying that I donāt want to babysit anyone or take fictive harassment challenge
Proof that I tried to be nice at first:
Once I confirmed their age I offered to send them the non-suggestive more gore-ish drawing of the rat poison. I even played along with her because she seemed excited at first and not up to some gremlin shit.
Proceeds to specifically mention that Mother is a tentacle monster before saying sheās ātrying to rizz her upā and then saying itās ānot what it looks like.ā Somehow I am the one with a dirty mind when I point out that she legit just alluded to a tentacle fetish and was trying to get me to engage. Just because sheās 13 doesnāt mean she doesnāt know what sheās fucking hinting at. You know for sure when she says āITāS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKEā and I was NOT about to take chances so I stopped her there because I was already uncomfortable. It becomes more evident that sheās using me as Character.Ai as the conversation goes on. I donāt wanna hear anything about that Iām evil for this because I was trying to be nice at first and I have clear proof. I only got nasty as youāll see in part 2 when she really started pushing me further. Proceeds to say sheās not sure if Iām a roleplayer. (Continue to part 2)
#jared warrenheim#jared warrenheim fictive#stop fucking trying me im sick of it#announcement#this has been a psa#fictive alter#fictive#being a fictive is not consent#yall know what im cool with and what im not by now#i love eager fans and i draw the line at real harassment#hold kids accountable for saying freaky shit to others and making them uncomfortable#not a babysitter#happy meat farms#dftm#hmf jared#did system#jared hmf#fictive harassment#support fictives#osdd#jaredwarrenheimfictive
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Iām doing a four hour shift in the kids crĆØche thismorningā¦.. fucking send help!
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From someone who works in customer service at a park district we are not glorified babysitters
As the holidays near (Halloween thanksgiving Christmas chanukka kwanza stuff like that) many parents tend to ignore their childrenās bad behavior and look to us to correct them so they donāt have to! Itās hard to work and make sure they arenāt yelling at their siblings or watching them every second (my boss got yelled at by a dad because HIS kid broke our window and the dad was upset we where not watching him) I also am not responsible for making sure you are on time for lessons or performances our schedules are posted if you are late because you didnāt read the multiple email s and your kid is crying I canāt help you I feel bad and will try and comfort them but I canāt change that they missed out! Just because the holidays are all magical for kids dosent mean you canāt correct them
For reference I shouldnāt from real situations
Make sure they are eating gluten free snacks from our vending machine
Making sure they are using appropriate language
Explaining to them why choking their siblings is wrong
I canāt watch your child while you go drink
I canāt watch your children because you have to go to the bathroom while I tend to another childās wounds
I cannot keep them behind the front desk unless they are lost or their is a abuse case
I donāt know where your childās equipment is I donāt have a spare pants,shoes shirt or head gear
Have to tell your child that stealing from staff is not okay even if itās a joke
Telling them to put clothes on
I can and do
Make sure your child isnāt kidnapped
Make sure your child isnāt running out the front doors into the street
Make sure your kid is under staff supervision if they happen to lose you
Have the child call you for forgotten or lost equipment
Make sure your kids are not harming themselves (sticking their hand out the elevator as it closes, trying to jump into the fire place)
Not harming others (kicking a soccer ball around in a busy lobby, not running when we have people practicing gymnastics)
Are safe if we believe you or another family member is causing them harm
Preform the necessary medical care if they are injured and make sure an ambulance is called (for free!)
Make sure your child or you have medical equipment to take home if one is injured ( I personally do this it is not required to give more than necessary I give extra bandaids,ice packs cleaning towels etc)
Make sure if a child is crying or upset if there is something I can do to help (do you need me to tell your teacher youāre late? Do you need to color or do you want me to refund you for blah blah)
Please realize we have jobs to do and I canāt keep track of five families kids while working front desk alone for five hours
I keep your kids safe not happy
#child care#customer service#jobs#parenting#customer stories#donāt make me tap the sign#not a babysitter#I keep your kids safe not keeping them happy
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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]
title. around the clock
Hooking up with your little brotherās babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.
į° pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)
į° 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 thatās besides the point). the kidās mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: donāt accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. heās pretty sure heās got a good hold on the former, but heās got no self control over the latter.
į° warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (readerās 22 & gojoās 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except thereās a lil bit of lore so itās 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
į° 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 didnāt get tagged itās bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldnāt tag them iām sorry!!
alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :ā) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! š ART CREDITS: @/3-aem
āø masterlist
2:34 pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): heyy um iām 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 yuujiās care instead of me?
2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure
2:34 pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesnāt 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 iāve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think itās 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 yuujiās sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. itās just iām kind of busy n stuff so it can be distractingĀ
2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it
2:52pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter
2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?
2:55pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird thingsā¦ i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him
2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?
2:56pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): yeah he was always āaccidentally sexting meā n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah
2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Iāll go beat him up
2:57pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): iām not saying youāre 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 yuujiās sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuujiās 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 āno offenseā thatās literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy
3:04pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the āohhh i wanna look good for instagramā 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 Iāll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourselfĀ
3:06pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE
3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? Iām not sensing any emergencies here
3:11pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(
3:16pm Gojo Satoru: Iāll let the kiddo know you say hi šš¼Ā
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 isnāt something heād admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that sheās entrusted her five-year-old sonās life to the hands of an underground boxer.Ā
But he needed the money. A night-time job didnāt 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 wasnāt stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was.Ā
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 wasnāt 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 Gojoās 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. Heās got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like heās geriatric, heās 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.Ā
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, itās the tactic heās 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 enoughĀ 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 heās found has worked, since heās been undefeated thus far.Ā
He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings whoāve 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 boxerās chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if theyāre even able).
He doesnāt pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but itās a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.
Itās not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep theyāve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasnāt 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 heās not proud of what he does, he canāt deny the fact that itās 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 heās a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend heās the kingās most trusted appointed knight, or heās the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe heās 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 heās had his bowl of spaghetti-Oās and is ready to play. Lately, the kidās been really into space. Theyāve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojoās day, he just had a good olā Buzz Lightyear.
āOne rule, thatās it: donāt accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Donāt flirt with my daughter.āĀ
Thereās a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows heās up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didnāt 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 thatās the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like heās up to no good? Heās not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuujiās life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ā¦ā¦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 heād argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, heās got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyoneās in college now or doing a masters or theyāre working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that heās 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 canāt exactly own up to the identity of his craft.Ā
Anyways, the point is, heās not used to seeing other people his age anymore. Thereās the occasional hook-up with girls he hasnāt seen since Mrs. Tracyās 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.Ā
So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuujiās 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 couldnāt 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 deanās list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that sheās proud of her daughter, but doesnāt that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.
āHere,ā 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. āIs this what you want?ā
He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you werenāt 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 wasnāt for his boxer reflexes, heād 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.Ā
āI didnāt know you were my little brotherās babysitter,ā 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. Heās never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.
āItās fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.ā
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?Ā
He knows he shouldnāt 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 youād 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 motherās 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 yuujiās 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 yuujiās 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 anyĀ 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shitās crazy
7:10pm yuujiās 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 yuujiās 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. heās chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isnāt he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?
7:20pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(
7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh
He tried to keep his word though (although he doesnāt 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 heād ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story.Ā
But a little texting here and there wouldnāt 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 brotherās babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, heāll 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. heās ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you werenāt trying to preserve propriety. And when youād occasionally visit every other weekend, heād do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and youād 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.Ā
4:55pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(
5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]
5:08pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!
5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll itās fake. Weāre working on his halloween costume
5:09pm yuujiās 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 yuujiās sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something
5:13pm Gojo Satoru: Iām not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him
5:14pm yuujiās sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. youāve deranged his brain.
5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.
Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, heād say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows itās close to neither. Heās no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, heās a con artist thatās tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because heās trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given heās not knocked dead before then for the crimeās amusement.
But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojoās 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 kidās the only thing thatās made him question any of this. Maybe thatās what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that youāll 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.Ā
āDo you like my sister?ā 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.
āUhh,ā Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. āYeah, sheās cool. Youāve got a cool sister.ā
āBut. But.ā 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. āDo you like her like you wanna kiss her?ā
Gojo grabs the block from the kidās hand, for a moment questioning Yuujiās decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kidās concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it.Ā
Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isnāt 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.
āNo. I donāt want to kiss your sister,ā 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 heās putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.
āItās ok. You can kiss her if you wanāed to. You can marry her too,ā 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 heās smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.
āWhere the fuāā¦where the flip did that come from?ā he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.
Yuujiās small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. āI want a papa.ā
Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what itās like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojoās 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 heās seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.
Heās 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 dadās 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 canāt 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 Yuujiās 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. āBuddy. If I married your sister, weād be brothers. I wouldnāt be your dad.āĀ
Yuujiās eyes light up at the word brother. āBrothers? Me and you?ā
āYeah. Bros.ā
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.
āJuice!!ā 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. āYeah, yeah. Iāll get you your juice, you little demon.ā
The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids donāt really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them.Ā
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.Ā
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 yuujiās sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuujiās sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y iāmĀ
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 yuujiās sis (no flirting): i drunk :(
The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly.Ā
1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell
1:10am yuujiās 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, youāre texting him? Must be a really boring party.
1:11am yuujiās sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?
1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldnāt sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Donāt you have a midterm in the morning?
1:14am yuujiās sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that
1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge
1:15am yuujiās sister (no flirting): im so fucked;ā;(((
He snorts. Heās 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.Ā
1:16am yuujiās sister (no flirting): can i tell u smethingĀ
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 mustāve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up.Ā
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 thereās the noise of another ping. Actually, four.
1:14am yuujiās sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuujiās sis (no flirting): i thikn ofĀ 1:14am yuujiās sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuujiās 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 amygdalaās been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet heās 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 heās stiff around the edges once more.
āSatoru! Youāre up, man,ā 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. Youāre off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain youāll regret every life decision youāve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors youāve 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.Ā
Thereās 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? Heās never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while theyāve 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. Gojoās got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.
āHey,ā 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, āwhatās in for this fight?ā
Danny glances up at the ceiling. āTarpās bettinā tonight, so it canāt be anything less than ten grand for you. Iād say tops fifteen?ā
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. Heās 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 heās 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 dudeās face into the floor until theyļæ½ļæ½ļæ½re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because thatās the kind of action the spectators wanted.
Danny reads his line of sight. āThatās Gale. Newtonās new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. Heās undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,ā Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. āChances are heāll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. Iām talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this.ā
āUh-huh,ā Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Dannyās 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 Gojoās name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojoās chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena.Ā
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 Gojoās 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 heād 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 theyāve 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. Thatās what the sanction was called. Lionās 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. Gojoās always thought the nicknames were tacky, and heās 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.Ā
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 Gojoās 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 wasnāt a good one to be up against.
Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldnāt win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and heāll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guyās face, grin wide like heās some cannibalistic beast.Ā
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!
Thereās 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.Ā
Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasnāt really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. āThis is enough, right?ā he asks.
The referee nods. ā1-0, next round.ā
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 heās a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he wonāt 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 ribsā
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.Ā
What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. Thereās 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 canāt help it. Canāt 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 mindās 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 itās 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. Whyās he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe thatās what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although heās 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 itās 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 Gojoās eyes widen at the sight above him from where heās still lying on the wood.
āShitāā 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.Ā
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, Gojoās already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guyās chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before heās 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.Ā
Gojoās eyes flit up towards the lionās 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 canāt make out because he doesnāt 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. āDude. Go.ā He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. āGo fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I donāt know, get some more blood out of him.ā
āWhat?ā Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Dannyās grip. āThe fuck are you saying?ā
āI told you, man, Newtonās here and heās got his eye on you. Go give him a show,ā Danny says, ādo it.ā And when he sees clear frustration on Gojoās face he sighs. āTwenty-five grand, consider that, will you?ā
Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Dannyās feet. āGo fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.ā 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 heās 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 doesnāt 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 heās out here or in the ring? Heās a babysitter by day. Heās a āpartā of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. Thatās it. Heās no five-year-oldās caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldnāt be thinking of you when facing big, burly men heās 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 heād 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 doesnāt have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight.Ā
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: Thatās nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the timeĀ
āand then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.
ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«
Youāre 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.Ā
āMmā¦ā 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.Ā
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.Ā
Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldnāt have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam ināyou checked the time on your phoneāabout an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache thatās 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.Ā
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 (yuujiās 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 brotherās hot babysitter.
Fuck.
Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you donāt even remember what you said, and so you donāt 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 thatās only because you thought heād find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that heās more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man youāve ever met. You didnāt 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 couldnāt you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJād 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 soā¦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, yāknow? Never had to fake it ātil 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. āStupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,ā 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 gaspingā
3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuujiās babysitter): I think about fucking you all the timeĀ
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 devilās hour. Whatās he trying to tell you?Ā
Oh come on, youāre not stupid. And you know he isnāt 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 heās trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when youāve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojoās sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. Thereās 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.
Butā¦ you donāt know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And sheād 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 heās no good and she thinks youāre too good. You know sheās 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 heās probably so fucking awkward around you whenever sheās there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so heād 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 wouldnāt wish on any woman, but thatās 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 doesnāt 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 doesnāt 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 heād 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 youāre 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 youāre making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.
But you got to college. Youāve already made it this far. Youāre on deanās list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. Youāre 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. Youāve 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.Ā
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 saysā
10:34am you: do it then
āthen shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life iāve been good, but now, ahhhh iām thinkinā what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.
ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«ā«
Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but heāll thank them for it later once his balls are empty.Ā
Heās 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 wasnāt ideal, but heās 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.
āFuck, youāre so tight,ā he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but heās 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 heās balls deep, āyou on any birth control?ā
āUh-huh,ā you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.
āI can cum inside then, yeah?ā he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.
āLetās get there first, and then weāll discuss,ā you breathe out.
āIāve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,ā 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 momās 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 sheād told him to.Ā
āHarder,ā 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 heās 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 heās fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue.Ā
The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment heās lost all sense of control. He wasnāt 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.
āGood,ā 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, āgoooood, keep squeezinā me like that, fuck.ā 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.
āOh, oh my god, Satoruāā you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.
āFuck, Iām gonnaāā His hand finds itās 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. āIām gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.ā
āIn me,ā you moan, ānowhere else.ā
He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, āAtta girl,ā he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as theyād 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.Ā
āOh shit, shit, shitāā 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 canāt 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 werenāt stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.
āWant a taste?ā he asks, casually.
āMhm,ā 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 doesnāt want it getting out. Heās then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find heās met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, ābet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.ā
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. āFlattery wonāt make me suck your dick.ā
āAlright. So? How is it?ā he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until heās hovering over you again, ātaste good?ā
āItās cum, Satoru.ā
He shrugs. āBad?ā
āNo,ā you say, and you canāt make eye contact, āgood.ā You sigh. āHot. I donāt know. Salty, sweet. Iām the sweet. Youāre the salty. And this conversation is obscene.ā
He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste whatās on yours. āI like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.ā
Thereās the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.
āSaāā you stutter, āSatoru.ā
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 seeā
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.
āShit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,ā 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. Youāre trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, heās still sad he canāt freely stare at your tits anymore. Youāre 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 itās better than being balls deep inside his bossās 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.
āMom! Youā¦youāre home so early,ā he hears you squeak out.
āYes,ā your mom says, āThe rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured Iād come home when thereās less traffic.ā
Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.
āI see, I see, how was your day at work?ā you ask with a tremble in your voice.
āFine.ā And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasnāt really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means sheās suspicious about something. āDarling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.ā
Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. āOh, um, I just went to pee. Mustāveāā¦mustāve got caught when I pulled it back up.āĀ
āI see,ā your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. āYou know, I really donāt like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe itās just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.ā
āMom,ā you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.
Your mother sighs. āIn any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I donāt have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.ā
āOh gosh, I donāt know,ā 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 youāre pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizesā his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldnāt put your panties on fast enough.Ā
Shit. Thatās 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 doesnāt 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.
āWhat?ā your mother says, āwhat do you mean you donāt know?ā
āIāve just been watching TV this whole time,ā you say, ālast time I saw himā¦he wasā¦um, in the backyard pulling weeds?ā
He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad.Ā
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 heād be inside of you.Ā
āIām going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,ā 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.
āOkay, I think sheās in the shower, I hear the water running,ā you whisper at him, āyou can go nowāā You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. āWhatāā¦Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!ā 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.
āYou talkinā to your mom while your pussyās stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing thatās ever grazed my lizard brain,ā 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. āNow keep quiet while I do this, ākay?ā
āOhāā you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, āokayāā you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before heās 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.
āShhhhhh,ā he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, ātold you toā fuuuck,ā 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, ājesus christāā he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, āI told you to fuckinā keep quiet.ā
āIāmāmff,ā you muffle against his palm, āIām trying but,ā your hips move back in time with his, āfeels good, feels too good,ā you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.
āYeah?ā he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldnāt be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, āyou like it when I fuck you while your momās all clueless just up the stairs?ā 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. āGetsā youāwet, doesnāt it?ā he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable.Ā
āMhm, mhm,ā you easily agree, or maybe thatās because itās 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, threeā 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, heās given you everything he had to give.
His eyes open, he wasnāt 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.
āHoly shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,ā 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 canāt believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? Heās never been to college, his old manās been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.
āNo pics,ā you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, āthatās my one sex rule.ā
He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. āThatās the only rule you have? Anything else goes?ā he asks.
You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. āI have a feeling Iād be making up more specific rules if it was with you.ā
He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. āI also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didnāt do.ā
You blink your eyes at him. āYouāre kidding, right?ā
āWhat?ā he asks, genuinely confused, āI didnāt.ā
āHuhāā you scoff, āhow do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didnāt just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.ā
āNahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, thatās not flirting,ā he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, āthatās, likeāā¦I donāt even fuckinā know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.ā
āOh okay so Iām stupid.ā
āI never said you were stupid?ā
āWell you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean Iām stupid.ā
āPshhh. Youāre cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.ā
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 heartās beating faster show through the heave of his chest.Ā
āWhy do you have all these scars, anyway?ā you whisper to him.Ā Ā Ā
āToo many girls tryna stab me,ā he tells you.
You roll your eyes. āSeriously.ā Your thumb traces the one you had left on him.Ā
āIāā He stops himself.
Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because heās seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen heās supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesnāt know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, Iām an underground boxer might make you think heās hot? At the very worst, youāll report him to the cops and heād get fired as your little brotherās babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.
āMaybe Iāll tell you some other time,ā he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, āno hyper personal details until youāve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. Thatās my one rule.ā
You snort. āI couldāve guessed that rule from a mile away.ā
He hums. And then thereās 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.
āSatoru. I was looking for you,ā she says as she rounds the post. āHave you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.ā
āAh, nope, was just about to head out,ā he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, āsorry, I wasāā he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, āā¦pulling out some gnarly weeds.ā
She narrows her eyes at him. āI see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.ā And heās not sure how to respond because heās not sure if sheās joking.Ā
He heads out the door, the keys to your momās 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 šš but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know iām a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n itās a lil angsty (totally different au tho) iāll 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 itās been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3
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taglist:
@joemama-2 @erencvlt @pickuptruck01 @hanakotateyama @nuronhe
@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat
@sirencholia @sorcerersseestars @horisdope @to-dabi @staoru
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#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader fluff#jjk gojo#jjk gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader fluff#babysitter au#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru fluff#jjk smut#gojo satoru oneshot smut#gojo satoru oneshot#gojo satoru oneshot fluff#smut#fluff#jjk#jjk oneshot smut#jujutsu kaisen oneshot smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo oneshot smut#jujutsu kaisen fluff#oneshot smut#crack#crack smut#crack fic
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get that girl her Odo fries !!
#i wish they had more moments of obrien being a dad :/ he always felt more like an awkward babysitter around his own kids#let that guy be a fatherly father!!!#miles o'brien#molly o'brien#odo#kira nerys#comic#star trek deep space nine#ds9#star trek fanart#fanart#art
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I love the first season of atla
#baked bean originals#avatar the last airbender#atla#aang#katara#sokka#before i watched the show everyone told me he was such a silly guy but he had the biggest stick up his ass#he acted like a miserable babysitter the entire season#while katara was busy being a revolutionary and aang was busy being a silly guy or the avatar#yeah i kind of ember island ified aang here but it's for the bit
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something something babysitter!reader, price calling you to pick you up earlier because his shitty ex wife made sure he has the wrong time for the court hearing, you rush over to his house. hes incredibly thankful while horribly stressed, quickly tying his tie around his neck while on the way to the door. you, being the sweet thing you are, follow him around to help, baby on your hip, keys in the other. he takes them while you're standing in the doorframe and without thinking; call it force of habit; he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before speeding off.
#do you see the vision#another babysitter!reader based on irl#guess who's got to babysit literally 2 hours earlier outta nowhere#gothghostiie#babysitter!reader#dad!price#also prices wife isnt canon yet#i think#cod mw#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty#cod#cod mw3#cod mwiii#john price#John price x reader#price x reader#price#captain john price#captain price#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader
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heās begging kuni to let them eat pancakes for dinner
#iām sorry to everyone who followed me for skk they havenāt crossed my mind in weeks#itās just been knkdz and kunikida brainrot š#when your brat of a boyfriend asks for a kiss and u tell him no and he hits you w this face#i would slap him tbh#honestly i think itās a good thing kuni is dead bc heās finally been released from the eternal punishment of being dazaiās babysitter#i miss them so badly itās not even funny anymore#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd#dazai osamu#osamu dazai#kunikida doppo#doppo kunikida#kunikidazai#knkdz#kunizai#lotus draws#also i deadass forgot how to shade so ignore how i basically just pillow shaded this entire drawing
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<< Prev || Next>>
>Guide<
For now I will name this story "Babysitter Jinbe" but if you have any better ideas you can tell me!
Please, consider support me with a Ko-fi
#Babysitter Jinbe AU#one piece#luffy#monkey d luffy#one piece sanji#vinsmoke sanji#artists on tumblr#one piece jinbe#jinbei#first son of the sea jinbe#op jinbe#strawhat pirates#jimbei#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro#strawhats#sanji#opfanart
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black vampires + witches
akasha, queen of the damned (2002)
louis & claudia, interview with the vampire (2022-)
tara thorton, true blood (2008-2014)
blade, blade (1998)
marcel gerard, the originals (2013-2018)
sarah fox, my babysitter's a vampire (2011-2012)
alex & camryn, twitches (2005)
rochelle zimmerman, the craft (1996)
bonnie bennett, the vampire diaries (2009-2017)
vincent griffith, the originals (2013-2018)
marie laveau, american horror story (2011-)
macy vaughn, charmed (2018-2022)
#black vampires#black witches#akasha#louis de pointe du lac#claudia#tara thornton#marcel gerard#sarah fox#alexandra fielding#camryn barnes#rochelle zimmerman#bonnie bennett#vincent griffith#marie laveau#macy vaughn#queen of the damned#interview with the vampire#true blood#blade 1998#the originals#the vampire diaries#my babysitter's a vampire#twitches#the craft#american horror story#charmed 2018#tvedit#filmedit#dailyflicks#horror
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Reformed!Pariah Dark + Royal Advisor/pseudo-son!Danny
Danny: *just got back from escaping the GIW, barely holding on* I'm back, your majesty.
Pariah: ....
Pariah: ..We're throwing earth to the sun.
Danny: Your majesty, no.
ā¢
*Justice League negotiations meeting*
JL: ...And those are the agreements of our truce.
Pariah: You fools must be insane to think that Iā
Danny: *kicks his leg*
Pariah: *groans*
Danny: āwe'll gladly take up on it!
JL: ...?...????
#alternatively: Danny becomes a babysitter for a reformed tyrant#this was funnier in my head I'm sorry#dp x dc#danny phantom#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#danny fenton#dpxdc#dpxdc prompts#batfam#dc x dp#dc x dp prompt
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ā” babysitter
oneshot - inspired by that one edit
fandom: five nights at freddys (movie)
paring: mike schmidt x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw 18+, dry humping, sexual tension, kissing, friends to lovers, cumming in pants, submissive mike, foul language, teasing, smut, riding, dom reader, consensual sex, age gap, minors dni..
You've heard a lot about him from Abby, mainly bits and pieces that she's told you, but nothing really about him and the only thing he really says to you is that he's eventually going to pay you back. But you always refuse.
The old couch squeaks softly as he sits beside you, a gentle hand goes to reach your face but hesitates.
Heās been very busy for a while now that he has started his new job at a security guard that was shut down ages ago. When he comes home he's always so tired, like he's a different person. As if he cannot relax. You hear the door open and slam back as it he closes it.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you come back.." You whisper, groaning whilst you move out of the position you had been in for a while. Yawning as you gently wipe your eyes.
Mike looks at you, half-smiling as he leans against the cushions. He's tired, you can tell. "Sorry if I woke you, you looked exhausted, so I just wanted to cover you," he whispers back, stretching his arms. "Did Abby go okay for you?" he asks.
"I told her it's bedtime an hour ago, but you know how it is with little ones." You joke.
"Abby was great, she missed you, though.." You smile sheepishly, shifting on the coach to face him. "How was work?" You ask, seeing the slight bags under his eyes.
Mike chuckles softly, leaning his head back and letting out a deep sigh as he stares up at the ceiling.
"It was long," he sighs. "I mean, I've gotten used to it, of course, but god, it's draining..." He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, looking off to the side and fiddling with his fingers, trying to find the right words to explain what just happened at work. He seems hesitant to say.
"You okay? You can talk to me if something is bothering you." Hesitantly placing your hand on his shoulder, slowly forcing him to look at you. You've known him for years due to babysitting Abby, but he's never opened up.
"Well... it's just..." Mike sighs again, still not meeting your eyes. "...Abby asked me some questions about stuff today."
He rubs the back of his neck, shifting in his seat as if he's about to say something and then thinks better of it. He leans back against the coach, letting out a frustrated grunt as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. "I... I just can't tell her."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" You whisper, staring at him, waiting for a response.
Mike's face softens a little, looking over at you before he sighs, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Abby asked about the job, and... well, it got me thinking..." He shrugs his shoulders again, still looking off to the side.
"Look, I'll tell Abby about it myself, I don't... I shouldn't put it on you..." He sighs one again, staring at the floor.
"If you need me, don't hesitate." You place your hand on his thigh, squeezing it for reassurance. Gaining confidence, you slowly move your body off the couch and sit on his lap.
"Oh..." Mike says quietly, his face turning bright red as you place your hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, his expression of uncertainty on his face changing as his eyebrows rise.
He's speechless, frozen in shock at your touch, and his entire face is practically bright pink. He's suddenly a lot warmer, his chest heaving as his heartbeat picks up speed. "... Y- you're..." he says with the last of his breath, his brain having trouble finding the right words to say.
"Is this okay..?" You grind against his lap, whispering against his ear.
"Shit..." He stammers, his brain desperately trying to process what you're doing. He looks confused, his eyes drifting down to you as his mind races.
"What... what are you... n- no, it's... we can't..." Mike stutters, trying to find a way to reject you. But the longer you're in his lap, the harder it is for him to say no.
"Just relax, Abby is fast asleep in her room.." You grind harder against him, using your index finger to tilt his chin up, making eye contact when you suddenly hear him whimper.
"T- this isn't the time..." he mumbles in response, his eyes closing at the sensation and his whimpers becoming more noticeable.
"W- we shouldn't be doing this..." he whispers, his arms hesitating in the air for a moment before they eventually wrap around your waist. He's still torn between going along with it or saying no, his heart racing as he gazes at you.
"Beg for me to continue." You stop moving your hips, feeling his arousal throb against your ass. Wanting to see how he would react.
"P- please... God.." he whispers, the breath catching in his throat and his voice turning raspy.
He looks at you, his eyes pleading, his body quivering under your control. His heart is pounding out of his chest. He swallows, looking up at you as his entire body screams for you to keep going while his mind fights back.
"You can do better than that.." You tease, breathing against his neck, gently creating bruises as you feel his slightly breath hitch.
Mike whimpers loudly when he feels your bites, his muscles tensing as he tries to relax.
"H- I- please, don't stop..." he murmurs hoarsely, sounding completely different than you've ever heard before. He whimpers again, his head tilted back as he tries to hide the pleasure in his face. He can't believe what he's doing, but he can't turn away.
"Good boy.." Slowly reaching to take off your top, revealing your covered breasts as you start to grind against him, pushing your panties to the side, creating a wet spot on his jeans.
Mike looks down at you, taking in the view as your top is removed, his face getting even pinker as his heart races.
He swallows nervously in response to your wetness, his eyes trailing down your body before they eventually turn back to your face. His cheeks are bright red, his breathing heavy as he glances back down at you, looking into your eyes as you look into his. He takes a long, drawn-out breath, his entire body quivering with anticipation.
"Just take what you want, Mike, no one is stopping you.." You tease, eagerly watching his reaction.
"I- it's..." Mike starts to say, but he can't say no to you, not right now. He leans back, pushing himself deeper into you like he can't help himself, the breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sensation. His eyes are closed as he tries to ignore his own morals.
His eyes snap open, his lips parted as he whispers, "More.."
"You close?" Whispering seductively, moving harder as you feel your climax coming fast.
"Oh, god..." Mike breathes out, his face red, and his eyes roll back into his head. He moans, bucking his hips up against you, feeling himself come close to release as he cums in his pants, feeling you come down from your high.
#mike schmidt#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x reader smut#smut#josh hutcherson#josh hutchinson#josh hutchinson smut#josh hutcherson smut#fnaf#fnaf movie#five nights at freddy's#five nights at freddys#five nights at freddy's movie#fnaf smut#fluff#abby fnaf#babysitter#fanfiction#fanfic#mike schmidt x fem!reader smut#mike schmidt x fem!reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt x y/n#mike schmidt x you smut#mike schmidt x y/n smut#five nights at mikes#x reader#friends to lovers#x you smut
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strategic manoeuvre.
ā WITHā¦ART DONALDSON!
contains...babysitter!reader, age gap, 18+ MDNI, art cheats w reader but it is lowkey implied that tashi planned the whole thing, car sex, semi-public sex, head (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, inspired by this post from @traumatrios
You had never been interested in tennis before Art.Ā
You werenāt interested in sports at all, really ā you just wanted to buckle down and focus on your college work, earn some money with an easy part-time job. You didnāt have time to follow sports, or anything else.Ā
But then you got a call. You had been in the middle of a lecture when your phone buzzed against your notebook, a California number shining up at you and enticing you to pick up. Normally you wouldāve let it go to voicemail, but you had recently gone around some of the fancier hotels in your city with flyers, asking for babysitting jobs and posting your number, so you excused yourself with a wave and took the call in the hallway.Ā
You didnāt know who Tashi Donaldson was when she introduced herself, but the hotel sheād asked you to come to later that night was fancy enough that you didnāt question it. You had done an extensive google search afterwards, of course, but simply raised an impressed brow at her repertoire.Ā
Then you met Art, her tennis player husband and the father of the lovely little girl you would be taking care of, and suddenly you were pretty interested in tennis.Ā
It started when Lily had a bad nightmare and you couldnāt get her down ā well, it started when you met the guy, palm sweaty in his own as he introduced himself, but it didnāt really start until you had to put one of his old games on the TV for the girl to watch until she fell asleep at your side, tear tracks from her bad dream dry on her cheeks.Ā
You had been planning on carrying her back to her bed when she was down for the count, but you had been so fixated on Artās movements; his determined look, his arms, his legs, that you ended up dropping out too. You woke up a few hours later with a blanket over your body and Art standing quietly at the kitchen island behind the sofa.Ā
āYou looked peaceful. Didn't wanna wake you.ā Heād said, sipping at his tea, and you knew you were done for.Ā
Now all of a sudden you had time to watch a tennis match in the morning, play one as background noise while you studied. You had started following his tennis journey right from the Junior Open in 2006 ā you didnāt think you'd ever actually see him again, but you could fantasise about it whenever you remembered the smell of his cologne as he thanked you for taking care of Lily, promising a big tip would go straight into your account in the morning.Ā
(The money went in fifteen minutes after youād left).
It came as a pleasant surprise when Tashiās number popped up on your screen once more, a few months later. You had been in your kitchen, and took the call the moment you recognised the digits.Ā
āWeāre a little ways out of town.ā Sheād said, āBut Lily raved about you for days after last time, and we know you better than a stranger. If you canāt make it out here, donāt worry, but we still wanted to try our luck.ā
We sheād said. As in her and Art.Ā
You cursed yourself for lusting after a married man in the uber to the hotel.Ā
From then on out, you became their primary babysitter. Since they travelled a lot, and Tashiās mom was with them most of the time, you only really sat for them once every couple of months. The town you lived in was sunny and had a huge private sports centre for professional athletes ā a fact you werenāt aware of until Art told you over a cup of tea ā so they always came back. You were glad you could count on them coming back ā it was like magic, the way your phone lit up with Tashiās now saved contact whenever the late night bingeing of matches and interviews stopped fueling your infatuation.Ā
The guilt was almost enough to make you ignore it, say you were busy or just get a new number all together. But you never did. As much as you knew it was wrong, you always dropped what you were doing and drove to that cushy hotel where the receptionist knew your face and let you in with a smile. You travelled that same memorised route to the master suite, knocked on the door and made sure you were standing far enough away from the peep hole that you didnāt look weird and distorted when Art would look through before letting you in.Ā
It was always Art now. Tashi had greeted you a few times but lately it had always been him ā a sick part of you thought she mightāve known about your crush on him, played with it for fun because she couldnāt play tennis anymore. But that was crazy, and you really needed to sort yourself out.Ā
You would greet him with a smile, push through the small talk, lean up against the kitchen island and watch his shirt stretch around the planes of his back as he made you coffee (On those unlucky days he would be wearing a shirt. Sometimes he would be just done with warm ups and physio and would answer the door half naked and covered in sweat. Those were the good days). Then Lily would come running at you from her room, hug you around your waist and pull you in to play; Art would laugh and grin at you, sliding the coffee cup in your direction and holding your eyes before heading to his room to get ready.Ā
You would be knee deep in headless barbies and chewed up polly pocket clothes when he and would return, dressed up and ready to go. He would lean down, kiss Lily on the forehead, and press his hand to your back in a silent goodbye. Then he would leave, and you would spend the whole day trying to pull yourself together.Ā
He was married. He was ten years older than you. He had a child, and was paying you to look after her.Ā
But he always made you coffee when you arrived ā just how you liked it because he remembered. He always checked in on you, asked you how your life was while you nursed the mug that was warm from the beverage and his hands. He would tell Lily to behave for you because We like her, and we donāt want to scare her off. He would let his land linger on your back half a second longer every single time he left.Ā
But.
But Tashi was the one who would call you. She was the one who made you coffee the first time, told you it was the least they could do for you. She would walk out of her room with Art, smile at you and tell you how beautiful you look in that shirt. She would grin at you before leaving, waiting patiently by the door for her husband to take his hand off your back.Ā
You were evil. Truly. The guy was married.Ā
But as evil as you were, you always made sure there was an old game of his playing on the TV when they would return ā because then Art would prompt you to stay and listen to him talk about it. And you would have an excuse to lean up against that island and watch him make tea while Tashi excused herself to bed. Hours would pass before he was checking his watch and hissing out an apology for keeping you so late, and then letting you leave.Ā
The first couple of times heād simply make sure you got in your uber safely. Then he started calling cars himself, the same ones that would drive him and his family to and from matches, press events. The same sort of service celebrites used, not their babysitters. You didnāt mind ā it was a thrill, listening to him ask the person behind the wheel to make sure you got back safely.
(The bar was under the court at this point, but at least you were aware of that).
But tonight was different. In more ways than one.Ā
In the beginning, all was the same. You were left sitting on the plush carpet of Lilyās room surrounded by lego pieces, a burning in your gut and guilt in your heart. You played doctor, you made dinner, ordered room service after her relentless begging, put on a movie, carried her sleeping form to bed, came back and watched Art play tennis until he returned.Ā
You had started to run out of games to watch, ones you hadnāt already seen, so settled for an old game from 2006. He was playing against his old partner, Patrick something, and you wondered where the lesser known second half of Fire and Ice had disappeared to after that night.Ā
Then Art came back, Tashi right behind him, and you smiled at them both over the back of the sofa. Tashi watched the game, something unfamiliar glinting in her irises, before blinking back at Art, āIām going to bed.ā
He responded a little slower, kissing her goodnight and looking back at you, āTea? This game was one of my most memorable.ā
āEven though you lost?ā You teased, leaning against the marble.Ā
He paused, looking back at you. He blinked, āYeah.ā
You drank your tea. You pretended like you werenāt full of shame for standing that inch closer to him. You let him talk until he had nothing left to talk about, and watched him check his watch. You waited for him to pick up the phone and call the car ā only he paused by the phone, hand floating just before it, and retracted his steps to the kitchen, āIām gonna drive you back, if itās not too much trouble. Saves waking up my driver.ā
āOh.ā Your fingers twitched, and you told them to stop. āSure, of course.āĀ
Artās car wasnāt what you had expected. Thinking back on it, he didnāt seem like the sports car type, but his status and riches led you to assume you were about to get into one of the two seats in his Bugatti ā you didnāt. The black jeep was expensive enough for someone like him, but close enough to home that you didnāt feel like an outsider climbing into the passenger seat.Ā Ā
The drive wasnāt all that far ā twenty minutes both ways, so Art wouldāve been back before Tashi fell asleep if he hadn't pulled into a parking lot five minutes out.Ā
Your lips parted, eyes following his hands as they slid slowly off the wheel and into his thighs. His chest rose with a deep breath and his jaw constricted when he swallowed. Then he was looking at you, eyes piercing.Ā
āLily likes you.ā
You were unsure, feet shifting beneath you, the sound encasing the silence of the space and forcing you to stop and blink, āIām glad. I like her.āĀ
āTashi likes you.āĀ
You werenāt too positive that she would like you if she could feel how you were feeling now ā that all too familiar heartbeat pulsing between your legs with every one of Artās breaths.Ā
āI like you.ā He finished, tilting his head until his temple rested softly on the headrest of his seat. His smile was almost taunting when he undid his seatbelt, āWhich is your favourite?ā
āWhat?ā
āThe games.ā He clarified, knowing his question was too broad and that you would have to ask, āThe ones you watch every time youāre over. The ones I assume you watch even when you arenāt sitting for us. My games. Which is your favourite?āĀ
āOh. Um āā Slightly distracted by the way he shed his jacket, dumping it in the backseat. Heād lent all the way forward to take it off and his eyes didnāt leave yours once. āI donāt know.āĀ
āThe one you were watching tonight.ā He asked then, āWhatād you think of it? Honestly.āĀ
āHonestly?ā You swallowed, mortified that you were even entertaining this, āYou looked a little distracted.āĀ
He huffed a laugh, finally looking away and letting you breathe. It didnāt last long, because he was then getting out of the car and rounding the front of it.Ā
The breeze was cool when it hit you, Art blocking most of it from where he stood in the gap. His hand was still on the handle, but you were busy unbuckling your own seatbelt ā the message had been received, you had crossed a line and he was kicking you out of his car.Ā
But when you turned, legs swinging carefully into the cold, his hand on your knee stopped you from really getting out. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you realised you had been caged ā with one hand on the door and one hand on you, Art Donaldson had you right where you had been dreaming of him having you. It felt surreal.Ā
āMy opponent. In the game from tonight.ā He breathed, glancing around casually like you were having one of your simple conversations over tea. āHe slept with my wife.ā
Out of all the thingsā¦Ā
āWhat?ā Your eyes darted between his, but the rest of your body otherwise remained still. Even when his hand on your knee travelled upwards.Ā
āHeād slept with her before. In college. We werenāt together then.ā He was now watching his hand move, like he wasnāt the one moving it, āBut then he slept with her again, in Atlanta. After Iād already married her.ā
āWow.ā You breathed, mainly because it was the easiest word you could slide out of your mouth whilst holding your breath. His fingers reached your thigh, begged to dip between them. āIām so sorry.ā
āDonāt be.ā He was quick to respond. Your legs parted on instinct, and at this point you had surrendered to being an awful person ā although maybe youād fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream. You didnāt think youād be able to face Art if it was. You couldnāt even face him now.Ā
He took the newfound space for granted, stepping between your legs and holding them open with his body. His hand on the door followed him, taking its new place on your other leg. He rubbed up and down your thighs, but you couldnāt look away from his face.Ā
āI donāt want you watching him play.ā He spoke lowly, tracing his fingertips around your waistband, āIāve seen enough of his games.ā
āOkay.ā You didnāt hesitate to let out, swallowing the hungered saliva that had built up in your mouth.Ā
He unbuttoned your jeans, pulled the zipper down ā painstakingly slow, but it allowed you time to brace your hands on the seat and the dashboard so you could raise your hips and let him slide them off you.Ā
You were stuck in your head, but Art didnāt seem to notice since he was too busy folding your jeans and hanging them over the open car door. You dared question it through a heavy breath but he just moved on to your panties, throwing them precariously on the dashboard and exposing your glittering cunt to his bright eyes.Ā
āWe shouldnāt āā It was a half-assed attempt at reconciling with your guilt, but the fact that you were half naked and spread eagle made it lose its meaning.Ā
Art shushed you, kneeling down so he was looking at your pussy, āWe can, and we will.ā Then he glanced back at you, brow arched, āUnless you donāt want to.ā
Any sense of rationale had fucked off when he put his hand on your leg, so you swallowed and said, āI want to.ā
He wasted no time, licking a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit. You knocked your head back with a gasped moan, bucking into him and hissing when the gear stick poked you in the back when you led back too far.Ā
You let out a shaky breath as he lapped you up, tongue dipping inside of you before travelling up to that sweet spot and sucking at it gently. You gasped and moaned, hands scrambling between holding yourself up and holding him down. His own were resting on your thighs ā his calm and collected demeanour was a drastic contradiction from your own.Ā
His head nodded calmly between your legs, relaxed in its position ā yours, shaky and tense all at once, neck bracing whenever you fell back. His hands tapped soft melodies on your skin whereas yours tightened around whatever was in their old, whether that be the leather of the seats or the blonde of Artās hair.Ā
When he finally came up for air, his chin was coated in your slick, and he licked his lips clean before straightening up above you. You watched, paralysed, while he unbuckled his belt, threw it over the door with your jeans, and sent you a look under his lashes that youād only seen him wear during his tennis matches.Ā
You had been keeping quiet earlier, but when he bottomed out inside you and started to piston, your mind went wild. Choruses of Oh my God and Fuck!, shouts of Artās name and whimpers under your breath ā it all came tumbling out and you couldnāt even try and stop it.Ā
Not that you wanted to; your vocality seemed to make him go faster, harder. It made him vocal, no longer calm and relaxed as he had been when eating you out, but loud and gruff. Grunts and moans you had dreamt about hearing outside of a television screen, now being huffed into the air you shared.Ā
You came with a whine and Art followed not long after, and you settled there for a moment ā legs spread in his passenger seat with him standing between them ā until you could muster up the strength to push yourself up.Ā
Five minutes later and you were both dressed, Artās black jeep parked outside of your apartment building. You hadnāt exchanged any more words, but when you turned to slam the door once you had jumped out, you found his eyes on yours.Ā
āI have a game this weekend. Two hours out. Tashi wanted you to come. A gift, for all youāve done for us.āĀ
(You went to the game. Art won. Tashi grinned like sheād made it happen and then offered to buy you a drink).
divider by @cafekitsune !!
#art donaldson#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x reader#art challengers#art donaldson smut#babysitter!reader#challengers#challengers movie#@liaās works#tashi duncan
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iām being so serious rn if assad zaman isnāt rawdogging eric bogosian on my tv screen in s2 i am going to raise anne rice from the grave and telling her that AMC is writing fanfiction and she needs to sue them
#interview with the vampire#amc iwtv#iwtv 2022#iwtv s2#iwtv#iwtv season 2#iwtv spoilers#iwtv speculation#armand#the vampire armand#eric bogosian#assad zaman#armandaniel#daniel molloy#louis de pointe du lac#lestat de lioncourt#anne rice#the vampire chronicles#why am i saying this i wasnāt even alive during the purges#born to young to experience the purges but too old to watch my babysitters a vampire#sigh#pls amc old maniel needs some excitement#armand i know u wanna#queen of the damned#sam reid
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thinking about something that happened to me while babysitting and I am unable to cope with it so obviously I have to make it something for yall
thinking about babysitter!reader being hired by price, you just go to check on the little one in their nursery. the baby is sleeping peacefully, you close the door - but the handle fucking breaks off. naturally you start to panic, the baby is in there all alone and you can't get in, so you call price in literal tears. telling him what happened, desperately scrambling around to look at the baby monitor. He tells you to take a breath, trying to get you to calm down, that its okay, he'll come home.
you're sat on the couch, crying in a panic while watching the blisfully unaware baby over the monitor until Price gets home. he comes in, making a beeline to the small utility room, then to the nursery. its an easy and quick fix, you definitely could have done it yourself you think as you watch over his shoulder. he opens the door quickly and sees the sleeping baby before closing the door with a chuckle and turning to you. you're still sniffling, babbling soft apologies, telling him youll understand if he doesn't pay or ever hires you again - but he shakes his head and leads you to the couch with him, sitting you down.
"sit, love. take a breath." he murmurs, vanishing to the kitchen, from where he comes back a minute later with a cup of tea that he hands you. sits down next to you, then gently pulls you into his side. "C'mere now. its alright bird, don't cry now."
#he ends up staying home and comforting you#this is very self indulgent sorry about that#but a girls gotta cope#gothghostiie#john price#John price x reader#price x reader#price#captain john price#captain price#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#cod mw#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty#cod#cod mw3#cod mwiii#babysitter!reader
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