#still no name for this guy or his friend o|-(
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tw : stalking, borderline crime attempted, abrupt ending, assault, shitty ex, SA, DEAD DOVE : DO NOT EAT
Soap x reader
You were being followed.
At first, you thought you were just paranoid, but you're sure of it now.
This was supposed to be your night, partying to your heart's content at the club, celebrating your promotion at work with your girlfriends.
The thumping of your heart climbed up your throat. You regretted denying one of your friends who offered a ride home before. You felt stupid, thinking that it would be okay since your apartment wasn't far anyway.
Looking back, your held your breath at the sight of a man in a hoodie who tried to act casual, standing by the bus stop.
You couldn't really see his face, but then his eyes locked with yours and you froze.
It's your ex.
He seemed to realize that his cover was blown, since he now starting to approach you boldly.
You should run. But your feet were frozen at the spot.
And when you finally snapped out of your fear, it was too late. His hand gripped one of your wrists when you tried to flee.
"Calm down, it's just me" He grumbled, still not letting go of his hold.
"What do you want?" You snapped back at him, looking up with a glare.
He sighed, sounding like he genuinely regretted everything. But you knew better "I miss you..".
The hair on the back of your neck stood up.
"I already have someone" You then hissed without thinking. And after you managed to get his grip off you, you stomped away.
His footsteps followed behind.
"Oh please, who else would want to tolerate you?" He said mockingly. "Come on.. while I'm still nice" He then added in a purr as his hand reached out to purposefully brush against your ass.
You jumped and let out a squeal which made him panic. His hand claimed your mouth shut and you continued to struggle.
Trashing around, punching and kicking at him as much as you could. But you were losing, feet digging onto the pavement as he tried to drag you to some dark alley.
As your movement became more frantic, you started to tear up and lose hope until suddenly- your ex let go of you to hold his cheek which was now red, a cut forming at the side of his lips.
Your ex glared at the direction from where the punch came "Who the fuck-".
A man loomed over you two, bright blue eyes pinning your ex on the spot, highlighted by the contrast of the night shadowing his figure.
"This is that someone I'm talking about-" You suddenly said without thinking and immediately stood beside this savior of yours. With your hands circling his arm, you pressed against his side. And you felt relieved when he didn't seem to mind.
You didn't know why you said that, desperation maybe, and the fact that he just saved you.
He didn't look bad after all, despite the glare directed at your ex, he seemed like a nice guy.
"My boyfriend um- John.." you said, saying the first basic name that came to mind.
You sensed your savior glanced at you for a split second before returning to glare at your ex.
"Aye, back aff" 'John' growled and pulled you closer by your hip.
His voice was deeper than you expected, giving you a different kind of shiver down your spine. A pleasant one.
You shook that thought of your head immediately. Not the time.
Your ex snickered, but was smart enough to know that he wouldn't be able to take this guy. "Really?" He asked to no one in particular.
None of you responded.
"Listen here, buddy" Your ex started. "A bitch that dressed like that, act like that.. is only want one thing," He said mockingly.
"Dinnae think it's any o' yer business." 'John' rumbled.
And before your ex could say anything in response, your savior got in his face. "Back. Aff. If she e’er feels unsafe aroond ye again, ye’ll learn firsthand whit it’s like tae be truly afraid"
The color in your ex's face drained at that. You watched him hesitating before finally stomping away after sending another glare your way.
The grip on your hip loosened when the piece of shit had gone far enough.
"Are ye alrigh', lass?" He turned to you, the rumble in his voice turning into something softer.
You could only nod in response, your heart was still racing in your chest as you tried to calm down now the threat was gone.
"..Thank you" You murmured after a moment.
"Let me walk ye hame, aye? It’s no safe for a bonnie lass like you tae be oot at nicht alane" He offered with a smile that made you blush.
"O-oh, alright then.. thanks.." You answered, thinking that it would be best to accept since you didn't know if your ex was truly gone for good or not.
His smile widened in response and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you two started walking.
Oh you.
Sweet yet foolish birdie that you are.
Falling into his palm just like that.
You should've thought twice before guiding some random man to your address.
You just said it yourself. He's your boyfriend now.
And he definitely won't let his new girlfriend out of his sight.
Or do you really need a lesson on how not to trust a man? Because he would show you why.
...
im ashamed to say this is inspired by one of those ridiculous novel ad, BUTTT I CAME UP WITH MY OWN PLOT
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Fighting for his TK
Following the breakup, Buck gets support and advice from someone unexpected.
****
Buck had never felt so numb after sex before. Objectively, the sex hadn't been bad—it had been pretty amazing if he was being honest. He and Taylor knew each other's bodies well, falling into an easy, practiced rhythm. Still, as his mind caught up to his body, all he felt was an overwhelming emptiness, a hollow ache where satisfaction should have been.
He felt his breathing begin to quicken as he lay next to Taylor's warm body. This wasn't right. None of it was right. He didn't want this. He tried to focus, tried to center himself, but it felt like he was sinking into quicksand, each panicked breath pulling him deeper.
"Buck?" Taylor asked, concern flooding her voice. "Are you ok?"
"It's—it's all wrong." He stammered, his chest tight with rising panic. "I'm not supposed... not supposed to... you're the wrong TK, Taylor."
Taylor began to rub his back gently. It felt nice, even as he longed to have strong biceps wrapped around him instead.
"So who is he?" Taylor asked quietly.
Buck's jaw dropped at the pronoun. "Wait. How did you...?" he trailed off, his voice barely a whisper.
"I've known since the first time we got together," she said with a shrug. "You were not subtle with the way you flirted with and checked out guys, but I figured if you didn't know, it wasn't my place to point it out."
"I was so blind for so many years. It wasn't even denial—I just never even thought it was an option for me," Buck said, his voice thick with realization.
Taylor nodded supportively.
"His name is Tommy and he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I thought he was my endgame, my happily ever after, but after six months he just walked away." Buck's voice cracked. "I asked him to move in with me and he got so, so sad and said I was still figuring myself out, and that he was my first but not my last."
"First of all, you have got to stop with the moving in thing," she began exasperatedly. "And secondly, what happened when you chased after him?"
"I—I didn't," Buck said quietly.
Taylor's expression flooded with concern and confusion. "You didn't? Buck, that's crazy. You always fight for what's important to you. It's one of your most endearing qualities. You never give up."
"I was hurt and confused and so caught off guard. I thought he needed space and would come to his senses and reach out to me. I think my friends and family thought so too because they told me not to call him. I think they thought he would contact me once he worked through some of his baggage," Buck said, his voice tinged with regret.
"I've wanted to call him so much," he continued, staring at the ceiling. "But I tried to push it down. I took up baking as a distraction. Every time I wanted to call him, I baked something, and soon I had enough pastries to open up my own bakery."
"You want to know what I think?" Taylor asked, shifting to face him fully.
Buck nodded.
"No offense, but you and Tommy are both idiots. You broke up because you both desperately wanted a future together, and then you've both been too cowardly to try and fix it," she said, her tone gentle despite the harsh words.
Taylor had a point, regardless of how much the truth stung.
"It's been months now. I don't even know how to reach out to him at this point," Buck said, running a hand through his hair.
"Why complicate it? If everything you've told me about him is true, he wants to fix it too and he's just scared. Go to him and ask to talk, and then sit down and be vulnerable with each other," she said, squeezing his shoulder.
"You really think that will work?" Buck asked, hope creeping into his voice.
"Trust me," she said. "And I bet you'll get some mind-blowing make-up sex out of it."
Buck blushed. "Thanks, Taylor."
"Go now, before you lose your nerve," she said, giving him a gentle push.
"O-Ok," Buck stammered, visibly nervous. "I can do this."
"You can," she said firmly, conviction in her voice. "And keep me posted."
"I will," Buck promised, already heading for the door with renewed determination.
A few hours later, Taylor's phone buzzed. She opened it to find a picture of Buck and a gorgeous man snuggled together in bed, both beaming at the camera.
Buck: The idiots are back together.
Taylor: I'm so happy for you. Now don't screw it up again, Buckley.
Buck: I wouldn't dream of it.
And looking at their faces in the photo, how they seemed to fit together so perfectly, Taylor knew he meant it.
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Let Me Us Help You
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Milgram ❤︎ Haruka Sakurai x Reader x Mikoto Kayano
Synopsis: Haruka has had a crush on you ever since he met you in Milgram but he never had an example of a healthy relationship growing up so he isn’t sure how to confess. He gets the help of one of the few adults he trusts, Mikoto. But after watching Haruka stumble over his words humiliating himself while he confessed to you, Orekoto/John decides the blue hair boy needs a push.~
On the menu: yandere, smut, multiple personalities (John referred to as Orekoto but I might change that), non-con~❤︎, one swear word (Orekoto is angyyy), kinda-poly if you squint (but Orekoto and Haruka don’t get each other off…), uhhhh manhandling, double penetration?, just yummy smut~~~, Orekoto is freaky af (but it’s hot so he is forgiven), Haruka lied about his age, he is actually an adult, uhh Orekoto is also toxic and rude, reader is referred to with fem pronouns
Guide: Smut only starts after the pink hearts ❤︎❤︎❤︎ you can stop there to skip smut.
A/N: I added a BONUS next day AFTERMATH! Where Mikoto comes back and doesn’t remember anything his other personality did!
Amongst the prisoners in Milgram, you were different. You were the first to notice Haruka. First to talk to him. Asked him simple things—Did you eat today? Do you need help with that?—things no one else bothered to ask.
The attention was addicting.
The way your voice softened when you spoke to him. The way you didn’t laugh when he fumbled with tying his shoes or struggled with writing his name. The way you always waited for him. The way you forgave his crimes, seeing his regret…
You weren’t just nice.
You were perfect.
Soon, Haruka found himself watching you more than he should. Memorizing your schedule around the prison. Finding excuses to be near you. Walking the same prison hallways you did, sitting at tables where he knew you’d pass by. Even when you weren’t looking, he was always there—lurking in the background, watching from the corner of his eye, his heart skipping a beat whenever you smiled.
You were perfect for him. Even if you thought your we’re doing nothing more than showing simple kindness due to the scary circumstances in Milgram, he saw it as way more.
He needed to make you his but he had no idea how to confess. He never saw his parents get along well in a loving relationship so he had no example of how it worked. So he went to one of the adults in Milgram he thought might know how to help.
“Just t-tell her…?” Haruka’s face burned as he fidgeted with the hem of his oversized prison uniform sleeves, avoiding Mikoto’s amused gaze.
The older guy leaned against the wall of the prison common area, arms crossed, watching Haruka with a smile. “Yeah, Haru-kun. You like her, don’t you? Then tell her.”
Haruka squirmed. “B-But what if she s-says no?”
Mikoto chuckled. “Then you have to accept that. I’m sure you two can still be friends!”
Haruka paled like the idea was unthinkable. “B-But I—”
Mikoto sighed, ruffling Haruka’s hair like an older brother. “Listen, Haru-kun. Confessing isn’t about making her say yes. It’s about being honest. If she doesn’t feel the same, then that’s how it is.”
Haruka bit his lip, eyes darting away. That’s NOT an option. You had to feel the same. You had to.
Still, he nodded, pretending to take Mikoto’s advice to heart. “O-Okay… I’ll try it.”
Mikoto grinned. “Atta boy.”
It was supposed to be romantic…
Haruka had practiced in front of his rabbit plush a hundred times in his cell—how he’d stand tall, how he’d look you in the eyes, how he’d say your name in a deep, confident voice.
None of that happened.
Instead, he was a stuttering, shaky mess.
“I-I—I w-wanted to s-say—”
You blinked at him, tilting your head in confusion. “Haruka? Are you okay?”
Oh god. You looked worried. Not flustered. Not excited. Worried.
Haruka’s breath hitched. This wasn’t going right. This wasn’t going right at all.
From around the corner, Mikoto crouched and watched, his expression twitching with secondhand embarrassment. “Oh, my—!” His fingers scratching through his scalp in stress. “Haru-kun, you’re killing me here…”
Suddenly a flicker of something dark passed over Mikoto’s face.
Then he stilled and closed his eyes.
When his eyes opened again, they weren’t the same, the previous gleam lower in his pupil.
A smirk curled at his lips, his posture shifting into something far more domineering. “Tch. You really can’t do anything right, huh, Haru-kun? That’s ok, I’ll help you out.”
This wasn’t going to be just Mikoto helping anymore.
Before you could process what was happening, a strong arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you flush against a broad chest. The scent of Mikoto’s usual cologne was still there—but something in his demeanor was off.
It was oddly aggressive compared to the Mikoto you’d known. And it was terrifyingly forceful.
Your breath hitched. “Mikoto—?”
“Tch-” Orekoto mouthed in annoyance. His arm around you tightened, his smirk widening as he turned to Haruka, who was staring in shock and embarrassment. “You were taking too long, so I decided to help out Haru-kun.”
Haruka’s lips trembled. “B-But—”
Orekoto rolled his eyes. “What? You wanted her, didn’t you?” His fingers trailed along your shoulder, making you shiver. “Then take her.”
You tensed, trying to figure out if this was some prank the two men were playing on you. “W-Wait—”
Orekoto ignored you, his grip on your wrist tightening as he started walking. “Come on. We need somewhere private for you two, come one Haru-kun.”
Haruka hesitated for half a second before following, his heart hammering in his chest. His confession hadn’t gone the way he planned.
But maybe… maybe this was better. He couldn’t help the shy grin he had as he followed behind Orekoto and your smaller body being pulled along.
❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎
With a sudden, forceful motion, Orekoto grabbed your wrist and dragged you towards Haruka’s prison cell. He threw open the door and shoved you inside, causing you to stumble and fall backwards onto the narrow prison mattress.
"Mikoto, what are you- ah!" Your protest turned into a gasp as he crawled over you, pinning your wrists above your head. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours with a hunger that made your heart race.
"Be quiet!" he said, his voice a low, dominant growl. One of his hands released your wrist to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Right now, I'm going to help Haruka claim what's his. I'm going to teach that fucking virgin exactly how to make a girl feel good."
Haruka stood nervously at the foot of the mattress, his cheeks flushed a deep, mortified red as he watched Orekoto manhandle you. His hands fidgeted and twisted on hem of his uniform, unsure of what to do with himself.
"M-Mikoto, is this okay?" Haruka asked, his voice small and hesitant. "Aren't you being a little too rough with Y/N?"
Orekoto shot Haruka an exasperated glare over his shoulder. "Rough?! Haruka! Do you want her or not?!?! Earlier you were a blabbering mess and she couldn’t take you seriously. You need to assert yourself, show her that she belongs to you."
Turning his attention back to you, Orekoto gripped the bottom of your top and yanked it up and off in one swift motion, exposing your bare skin to the cool air of the Milgram prison cell. His calloused hands skimmed over your flesh, leaving tingles in their wake.
"First things first," he purred, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. "Get her worked up. Touch her like she's the only thing that matters. Like she's your whole world."
Haruka took a small step closer to the mattress, his eyes wide and uncertain as he reached out a shaking hand to cup your breast. He squeezed softly, marveling at the supple weight of it in his palm.
"L-Like this? Mikoto? Is this right?" Haruka asked, his voice pitching higher with nervousness. His thumb brushed over your nipple, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.
Orekoto smirked as he watched Haruka's hand explore you. "Not bad Haruka. Now, don't be shy. Really touch her," he growled, his voice a low, dominant rumble. "I want to see you slide your fingers inside her tight little cunt. Get her dripping wet and desperate for your cock."
Haruka's breath hitched at the crude words, his face flushing an even deeper shade of red. With a shakey nod, he trailed his hand down your stomach, his fingertips dipping teasingly beneath the waistband of your panties. He could feel the heat from your core showing how ready you were.
"I-I'm going to put my fingers inside now, Y/N... Okay?" Haruka said, his voice barely audible. He hooked his fingers into the side of your panties and tugged them down your legs, baring your glistening sex to his hungry gaze.
Orekoto grunted in annoyance. "Stop asking for permission, Haruka. Take what you want. Claim her."
With a deep breath, Haruka pressed a finger against your slick folds, feeling your wetness coat his digit. He slowly pushed forward, watching in awe as your tight walls stretched to accommodate him. He couldn't help but let out a soft moan at the incredible feeling of your silky heat enveloping his finger.
"Y-Y/N... you're so tight," Haruka gasped, slowly pumping his finger in and out of your clenching sex. He added a second finger, then a third, stretching you open as he curled them inside you, stroking along your inner walls.
Your back arched off the mattress, a loud moan escaping your lips as Haruka's fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Your hips bucked against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction.
"That's it, Y/N. Take his fingers like the needy little slut you are," Orekoto taunted, his voice a dark, dominant growl. He could see how close you were to the edge, could tell your body was tensing and quivering with impending release. "But don't you dare come. Not yet."
Haruka looked at you with wide, worried eyes, his fingers stilling inside you.
Orekoto's eyes flashed with dark intent as he watched you teetering on the brink of climax, your velvety walls clenching desperately around Haruka's buried fingers. He could see the needy, almost painful desire etched into every line of your body, and it only fueled his own growing arousal.
“Stop," he commanded, his voice a low, authoritative bark. Haruka froze, his fingers still knuckle-deep inside your fluttering sex. "Don't let her come, Haruka. Not yet. You need to mark her first, claim her as yours properly."
Haruka whimpered, he felt his dick twitching in his pants, holding back his own desperate need. With shaking hands, he withdrew his fingers from your dripping core, ignoring your whines. He fumbled with the fastenings of his pants, his cock already straining against the confines, eager for freedom.
"I-I need to...I need to put it in, Y/N?" Haruka asked, his voice high with nerves and anticipation. His cock sprang free as soon as he tugged down his pants and underwear, slapping against his stomach. It was flushed a deep, angry red, the tip super leaky with need.
Orekoto smirked at the virgin Haruka struggling to hold back his desperation. "Yes, Haruka. Claim her cunt. Bury yourself inside her and don't stop until she's overflowing with your seed. Until everyone knows she belongs to you."
Haruka nodded, positioning himself between your spread thighs. The head of his cock nudged against your entrance, slipping through your slick folds to catch on your opening. He looked down at you, his eyes wide and pleading. Though he kept hesitating… afraid to hurt you…
"I-I'm going to...AH!" Haruka gasped.
Growing impatient with Haruka's hesitant pace, Orekoto had moved over to behind Haruka and placed his hands on the small of Haruka's back, pushing the nervous boy forward so he smashed into you. The force of Orekoto's actions drove Haruka's cock deep into your tight channel, forcing you to stretch to take in his girth.
"A-Aah! W-Wait..." Haruka gasped, his eyes widening at the sudden tightness of your walls.
“Shut up and fuck her already," Orekoto growled, his hands gripping Haruka's hips tightly as he helped to drive the boy's movements.
Once he started to get a pace going for himself and Orekoto slowly backed away. Haruka could feel the way your velvety walls gripped and fluttered while his cock split you open.
"Don't hold back. Ravage her cunt until she can't walk straight. Until she's dripping with your cum and everyone knows she belongs to you." Orekoto instructed.
Orekoto's dominant words spurred Haruka on, and he began to move with more urgency, his hips slapping against yours as he drove his cock in and out of your dripping sex. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small Milgram prison cell, mingling with your needy moans and Haruka's increasingly desperate panting. Thankfully everyone else was enjoying their food in the dining area and had no idea what was happening in prisoner 001’s cell.
To keep you from trying to get away, Orekoto reached out and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with a grip that was just shy of painful. He leaned down, his lips curling into a smirk, his breath hot against your skin. "That's it, take Haruka’s cock like a good little slut. Don't you dare try to run away from Haruka's dick."
Haruka moved his hips slamming against yours with increasing force. The head of his cock kissing your cervix with every powerful thrust.
Watching the erotic scene unfold before him, Orekoto couldn't help but grow harder by the second. The sight of your restrained form writhing on the prison mattress, impaled on Haruka's desperate cock, was almost too much to bear. He could see the tears of pleasure streaking down your face, hear your needy moans and cries as Haruka pistoned in and out of your soaked cunt.
With a low, almost feral growl, Orekoto reached down and freed his own aching erection from the confines of his pants. It sprang out, long, hard, and already leaking with need. He grasped your chin with his free hand, turning your head to face him as he tapped the leaking crown of his cock against your tear-stained cheek.
"Open your mouth, slut," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Put that pretty little mouth to work."
As if in a trance from the undeniable pleasure, you parted your lips, allowing Orekoto to slip his thick length into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the head, lapping up the salty essence leaking from the tip. Orekoto groaned at the sensation, his fingers tightening in your hair as he began to slowly thrust his hips, fucking your face with shallow pumps of his cock.
The lewd slurping sounds of the blowjob seemed to drive Haruka wild, spurring him to pick up the pace of his own thrusts. He pounded into you with renewed vigor, the force of his movements causing your body to slide up the mattress with every snap of his hips. The new angle allowed him to drive his cock even deeper, the thick length kissing your womb with every pass.
Haruka's breathing grew ragged and shallow, his rhythm faltering as he rapidly approached his peak. With a strangled cry, he slammed his hips forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your spasming cunt as he found his release. Thick, hot ropes of his seed painted your insides, filling you with his essence as he shook and shuddered above you.
“Y/N! I love you so much! You always gave me attention and I haven’t been able to get out you out of my mind. I won’t let you leave me or deny me ever. I only need you and you only need me!” Haruka whined as he came.
The feeling of Haruka's cock pulsing and throbbing inside you, pumping you full of his cum, was enough to push you over the edge as well. Your inner muscles clamped down around him like a vice, milking every last drop of his release as your own intense orgasm crashed upon you and you passed out.
Orekoto groaned low in his throat, the erotic sight of you and Haruka lost in passion pushing him over the edge of his own release. He yanked his throbbing cock from your slack mouth, aiming it at your face as thick, hot ropes of his seed erupted from the tip. Pearly strands of cum painted your unconscious cheek, marking you as a possession, a toy of their shared use.
With a satisfied grunt, Orekoto wiped the last drops of his essence from his softening cock, smearing the excess over the swell of your breast. He tucked himself back into his pants with a smirk, the evidence of his debauchery written all over your peaceful, sleeping face.
Turning to Haruka, who was still buried to the hilt inside your limp form, Orekoto patted his shoulder. "You did well, Haru-kun. I'm happy you were able to confess your feelings to Y/N. If you ever need any more…’help’…with your relationship in the future, don't hesitate to come to me. I’m sure I will gladly be able to help you again."
Haruka looked up at Orekoto, his face flushed and glowing with happiness. He couldn't stop smiling, reveling in the knowledge that you were finally, truly his. "Thank you Mikoto" he said softly, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.
With a satisfied nod, Orekoto turned and walked out of Haruka’s cell, leaving you and Haruka alone together in the aftermath of your shared arousal. As the door swung shut behind him, Haruka curled his body around yours protectively, holding you close as you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
BONUS Next Day!:
The next day, Mikoto woke up in his own cell as he blinked awake with a soft yawn, his mind foggy and confused like he had forgotten something... He could feel a strange, unfamiliar dampness in his pants, and he wiggled uncomfortably on the mattress in his cell.
Rising from his mattress, Mikoto stretched and got himself out of bed. He went to brush his teeth and got on a fresh pair of pants and underwear deciding to discard the previous wet ones embarrassed that Es or Jackolope might comment if they saw the obvious wet patch during an interrogation.
Mikoto decided to head to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. He made his way out of his cell and towards the communal dining area.
As Mikoto entered the dining area, he spotted Haruka sitting alone at a table, snacking on a fluffy mound of cotton candy.
"Hey there, Haru-kun! Mind if I join you?" Mikoto asked in his usual cheerful tone as he approached the table where Haruka sat, completely oblivious to what his other personality had done the previous night. He pulled out a chair setting down his tray and sat down across from Haruka.
Haruka's head shot up at the sound of Mikoto's voice, his eyes wide and anxious. He seemed to tremble slightly, a flicker of uncertainty and guilt in his expression. It was clear that he was wondering whether Mikoto remembered the details of their shared encounter with you the previous night.
"U-Um, h-hello Mikoto..." Haruka stammered nervously. "You... you want to sit with me?"
Mikoto tilted his head in confusion at his nervous voice. "Huh? Of course, Haruka. Why wouldn't I want to sit with you?" he asked with a soft chuckle. "We're friends, aren't we? By the way how did your confession with Y/N go yesterday?"
Haruka told him it went fine and you accepted thanks to his… advice. And Mikoto hummed satisfied with himself, having no clue of what Orekoto had forced upon you, or the role he had played in your defilement…
Now your sleeping body is hidden, tucked under the blankets of the mattress in Haruka’s cell hugging his rabbit plush, for him to now be able to enjoy all of your attention.
A/N: YANDERE HARUKA SAKURAI. KINDA POLY MIKOTO KAYANO. OREKOTO IS FREAKY. MORE MILGRAM SMUT SINCE NO ONE WANTS TO WRITE IT. Like serrrrrriously we have a series about criminalsssss and noooo one wants to write dark content? Fine. I will make it.
#IchigoP Milgram#IchigoP Haruka#IchigoP Mikoto#milgram#haruka sakurai x reader#mikoto kayano x reader#milgram x reader#Milgram smut#milgram headcanons#mikoto kayano#orekoto#john Kayano#mikoto Milgram#john kayano x reader#john milgram#john milgram x reader#milgram haruka sakurai#sakurai haruka#milgram haruka#Haruka sakurai#haruka sakurai smut#sakurai haruka x reader#yandere smut#sub yandere#dom yandere#yandere x reader
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Every time I think Sasuke’s clear and obvious homosexual obsession with Naruto might be maybe a little one sided, Naruto will do something absolutely insane like walk into his childhood room after two years, grab his dusty picture of Sasuke, gently brush it off, fingers lingering for a moment over Sasuke’s face, and lovingly whisper “Sasuke…I’m home…”
#n-naruto….on god what the hell is wrong with you#SITTING ON HIS BED HOLDING SASUKES PHOTO AND WHISPERING HIS NAME???#H O W does ANYONE watch this fucking show and now IMMEDIATELY clock these two#I’m at the point where I’m starting to think it’s .. just what the author intended#like….who wrote this. and why#I could easily look it up but my fav explanation is ‘person into shonen who had or had a crush on his childhood best friend’#‘and is still working some things out in regards to it’#anyways#I have a theory that this is why classic anime ‘bro’ types don’t like sasuke#they are unable to reckon with the sheer magnetic force of their extremely obvious love for each other#I think it scares them#DOESNT SCARE ME BITCH#NARITO GO GET HIM BACK FROM ORROCHIMARU SO YOU GUYS CAN KISS ITS IMPORTANT#naruto#sasunaru
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[backlog] [25/04/2024]
Thinking about him, realized I hadn't posted this yet
He chomps :3
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r.une is so awesome! he's the kindest guy ever and I always drop by the thieves guild whenever I'm not doing anything just to hear his pretty voice
#ash rambles 💚#and he's handsome!#steal me away 🐉#ugh it's been so long since i've played s.kyrim#or uh. anything other than c.yberpunk#school keeps me busy and#i also got some wisdom teeth removed today! and two other teeth! it's... not the most comfortable! I'm trying to stay chill about it but#FUCK i miss solid food so much#anyways I'll try my best to get some sleep! I'm trying to downplay it but it's probably not a good idea to like. not rest after all that#so yeah if i havent been as activate as of late it's just a mixture of that + school + me trying to platinum cy.berpunk 2077#i think I'm at about 75% trophy achievement? which isnt bad at all#sorry i was talking about r.une#s.kyrim has ass lighting but. his eyes are actually green! i just think he's sooooo handsome!#I can't really kiss since my face is all swollen but i am mentally kissing him all over! he's just such a sweet guy! i know i ship with a#lot of men that are a little rough around the edges but. not him#he's just a genuinely nice guy#(ignorethat hes part of the thieves guild)#oh speaking of I've started to play o.ctopath 2 again. starting to drag myself out of my gaming slump#it's just... been such a crazy last few weeks. with school and life and my mouth... and the roadtrip in which our tire went kaboom in the#middle of nowhere.. everyone is okay but it's still definitely a moment that made me go 'what the hell is wrong with ash's life' LMAAAOO#gonna save that story for the grandkids! BAHAHAHAHAA#oh speaking of kiddos. i've been developing the kiddo for s.eifer a lot as of late! her name is selena + she wields a gunblade like her pap#and just like how her papa has a thing for s.quall (/hj) she has a thing for s.quall's kid LMAAAOO#ah shit it's almost 3am.. I'm gonna go to sleep! i should rest after today#good night my friends#or. well. good morning. since you know. it's so late ajdkahsjq#I'll get back to the regularly scheduled f/o posting eventually <3#your knight until the end 🤍#also also I've been reading john koenigs the dictionary of obscure sorrows and annotating it like the nerd i am. fucking hell it's so good#apologies to all my friends who keep getting spammed with me analyzing it LMAAAAOO y'all are the best
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#personal#lmao around this time last year i decided to give up on him n LMAO girl if only you knew#i should have just talked to him but djdjjdjdjd idk it felt weird. but he even like. complained one time that we didnt talk all summer#like LMAO..... bro its two ways. u could have messaged me too xjdjjdjdjdj#tho to be fair i think he did show up to a dinner but i wasnt there bc i had just had wisdom tooth surgery n was 1. blown up like a balloon#and 2. so high on pain meds i couldnt function JFJDJJDJDJDJDJ#n e way whatever jdjdjdjd im just laughing at myself bc how did this man become my closest friend from college Zhfnnddnnd#our relationship is so weird. not in a bad way but in an unexpected way#we sat beside each other an entire semester n never talked til the last day like thats so FUNNY IDK#i even said to him that time. bc we were talkin in the hallway n went to sit for the exam n sat in our regular spots of being one seat awa#y and i was like... you know its so funny that we sat beside each other all semester and only talked today#and he was like.... hahha yeah#i was gonna introduce myself but it felt so stupid JDJJDJDJD#i didnt even know his name LMAO#i had him narrowed down to 2 names. bc he was one of like 2 guys that Always showed up in another class' zoom#and LOL i was right. he WAS one of those 2 shjdjsjsj#n e way. then the next sem came n i didnt know whether to say hi to him or not bc we talked ONCE#and i was still wearing my mask at this point and so id try to smile at him with my eyes but never got a response HDNJDJD and so i got soooo#annoyed with him. and even more so bc i kept making friends with ppl and they KNEW HIM??? and i was like WHO IS THIS????#then one time he came up to me n my friends before class n we just talked and i was like o lmao this annoyance im having??? its a big ole#crush BDNNDNDND#and in community college its hard to like. know ppls ages and that day i found out he was 2 years younger so i was like o ok 26 n 28 isnt#bad at all#but thinking back.... first things we exchanged that time was age and i think he was also trying to fish for whether i was single bc he was#talkin about this other guy havin a baby n a wife n i was like o wow !! i didnt know!!#jdjxjdjdjdk god when he found out my age he was like... oh i never would have guessed you were older. you look young ZFHJDJDJDJDJD#oh so you were Looking is that right HJXJXJXJZJZJ GOD LMAO#i look back on so many moments n im like oh duh... he must be interested#but for me its like. i will literally more easily believe literally any other theory so i thought he just liked one of my friends Zhjxjx#ya i dont think so anymorem but i thought that up until like mid january HDHXJJXJDDJJDJ
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Going that insane route of trying to piece the stories together through game's special cut ins before battles (p much one of few of its small ways to provide story/characters context), official little descriptions and pixiv logs We're really in it now
#shut up seraph#I'm doing great fantastic even there's only 1 I can't get because it was either short or not much people gave a shit orz#everything else tho think I have more or less base outline?#feel like my fave story is either tragedy of dragon folks or a knight guy with some anger issues going on a quest to save his corrupted#other knight friend...a mage named Merlin is also there#3rd be of musketeer who yeeted himself back in time to fix the present and left his “not” gf in past. As past got “fixed” she lost memory o#him but the soul still earns. And he got into dark route back in the past without her. love is real without each other you make urself wors
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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]
title. around the clock
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Hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.
ᰔ pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)
ᰔ summary. when underground boxer gojo satoru becomes a little strapped for cash, he gets a day job as a babysitter for a five-year-old kid named yuuji who most definitely has adhd (but that’s besides the point). the kid’s mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: don’t accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. he’s pretty sure he’s got a good hold on the former, but he’s got no self control over the latter.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (reader’s 22 & gojo’s 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except there’s a lil bit of lore so it’s kinda porn w plot, uhh having sex with risk of getting caught, gojo beats people up at night & then plays father figure to a 5 y/o during the day, mentions of violence/alcohol/drugs/blood/cigarettes
ᰔ word count. 12.6k
a/n. hiiii friends jeez it feels like FOREVER since i've posted some good ol' smut (still has plot tho xd)...hopefully you enjoy n see ya at the bottom! lmk if i missed any warnings! if you asked to be tagged but didn’t get tagged it’s bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldn’t tag them i’m sorry!!
alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :”) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! 💕 ART CREDITS: @/3-aem
➸ masterlist
2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): heyy um i’m sorry if this comes off kinda rude i just am kinda bad with this but i was wondering if you could text my mom for questions about yuuji’s care instead of me?
2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure
2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesn’t know much ab how to take care of him bc i was the one that took care of him for a while but i just really want to separate myself from that guardian role now that i’ve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think it’s not my place anymore. i just wanna be big sis now haha
2:46pm Gojo Satoru: I get it. Sorry if I was making you uncomfortable with my texts
2:48pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. it’s just i’m kind of busy n stuff so it can be distracting
2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it
2:52pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter
2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?
2:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird things… i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him
2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?
2:56pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah he was always “accidentally sexting me” n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah
2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll go beat him up
2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i’m not saying you’re like him tho i just think maybe less texting unless its an emergency okay?
3:00pm Gojo Satoru: Are you sure because I will totally go beat him up for you
3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): also no offense but you dont look like you could beat someone up
3:01pm Gojo Satoru: WHAT 3:02pm Gojo Satoru: Tf you mean “no offense” that’s literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy
3:04pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the ‘ohhh i wanna look good for instagram’ way and not like real man muscles yknow
3:06pm Gojo Satoru: Ok princess next time you visit home and go on one of your stupidly large grocery hauls I’ll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourself
3:06pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE
3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? I’m not sensing any emergencies here
3:11pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(
3:16pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll let the kiddo know you say hi 👋🏼
The irony of it all was that, if Gojo really wanted to, he absolutely could beat the shit out of someone. And he has, hundreds of times, pseudo professionally. Although that isn’t something he’d admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that she’s entrusted her five-year-old son’s life to the hands of an underground boxer.
But he needed the money. A night-time job didn’t really make daytime money, not when they could easily replace him with the next dude the second he gets knocked out of the ring more than twice, let alone if he let it happen once. And although he sometimes made large sums, it wasn’t stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was.
The babysitter working nights at unsanctioned dojos and gyms located in the back of cartel blocks, knocking teeth out of men twice his size, would put any decent mother into a coma or induce some episode of syncope, hence why it wasn’t something he put on his resume before he got hired. Not that he even needed to provide a resume; your mom seemed desperate to cover the position as fast as possible, that promotion at work was moving faster than she wanted to, and Gojo’s beneficial attribute that he possessed as a candidate to look after her son, compared to all the other potential hires, was that he had a penis.
He likes the kid. Yuuji. He’s got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like he’s geriatric, he’s really only the ripe old age of twenty-seven, but the immortality and infinite stamina that a five-year-old boy has on him is enough to have him huffing and puffing at the end of every single evening shift he takes on with the rascal.
Fighting is all sprint, and no stamina. Sure, there might be some more seasoned boxers that might disagree with him, but for someone as young as him in the field, it’s the tactic he’s been forced to gain. If he draws a fight on for too long, he'll get killed by a forty-two year old man with steroids clogging up his adipose tissue and enough testosterone to grow a full-body beard by the time the sun starts to set. No, his strategy is to knock them out within the first fifteen seconds. Use their weight against them, and whatnot. A tactic he’s found has worked, since he’s been undefeated thus far.
He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings who’ve gained millions the night before from selling crystal meth only to lose it all the night following in the second Gojo hooklines a solid punch to their betting boxer’s chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if they’re even able).
He doesn’t pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but it’s a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.
It’s not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep they’ve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasn’t doing all of this to feel some sense of work-life pride, no, it was just sustenance. When basic needs are not met, humans resort to the most animalistic of all behaviors, and while he’s not proud of what he does, he can’t deny the fact that it’s turned him into an adrenaline junkie that gets a rush in his veins every time he knocks a jaw loose.
But balance was key. And hence why he’s a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend he’s the king’s most trusted appointed knight, or he’s the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe he’s the evil power ranger (he always forgets which color that one was) that is determined to make the world a living hell by smashing mr. potatohead against the bunk bed post a billion times for all the other toys to see. Or whatever other imaginative hyperfixations Yuuji imposes on him in the later afternoon once he’s had his bowl of spaghetti-O’s and is ready to play. Lately, the kid’s been really into space. They’ve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojo’s day, he just had a good ol’ Buzz Lightyear.
“One rule, that’s it: don’t accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Don’t flirt with my daughter.”
There’s a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows he’s up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didn’t read the slight swell to his eye and the healing gash across his cheek as anything other than this boy is trouble and I want him nowhere near my too-good-for-him daughter of reproductive capacity since that’s the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like he’s up to no good? He’s not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuuji’s life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ……right?
The first night he met you, it was awkward to say the least. Gojo spends most of his nights performing deadly stunts for middle aged men with potbellies, and most of his days hanging out with a five-year-old (one who he’d argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, he’s got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyone’s in college now or doing a masters or they’re working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that he’s been working in insurance for the past two years. Listen, in fairness, he probably makes the same amount of money as an insurance broker would anyways, but he can’t exactly own up to the identity of his craft.
Anyways, the point is, he’s not used to seeing other people his age anymore. There’s the occasional hook-up with girls he hasn’t seen since Mrs. Tracy’s homeroom period back in sweet two-thousand-sixteen, or his twice-a-year hangout with Suguru where he only learns the day of where he's visiting from since the guy moves around more than Gojo can keep up with. But save for that, he mostly just sees your mom and then Yuuji.
So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuuji’s half-finished GoGurt back in the fridge was startling to say the least. When the sight of a woman startled him, he knew he needed to start getting out again.
You were on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab at something over the fridge, and wearing these ridiculously short shorts to where he could see the curve of your ass, his line of sight trailing down the skin of your bare legs. He couldn’t see anything of your form above your shorts, given you were wearing an extremely baggy t-shirt with NYU on it in big bolded university letters. As far as he knew, you were a senior at NYU, studying psychology, made dean’s list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that she’s proud of her daughter, but doesn’t that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.
“Here,” he said, pressing his front to your back, maybe just to get a feel, as he reached over to you to finally grab the box of cereal you were swatting for, the one that he purposefully placed at the back because Yuuji learned how to climb counters recently. “Is this what you want?”
He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you weren’t expecting some random man to be in the house right now, and your first instinct ended up being to grab the knife out of the kitchen knife block and lunge it straight at his torso.
If it wasn’t for his boxer reflexes, he’d have ended up at the ER that evening. Or dead. All depending on the strength you could pack into a stab. But instead, he deflected it, though not without a gash to his torso through the fabric of his shirt, one that you spent the rest of the evening profusely apologizing for and eventually mending to with cotton balls and neosporin.
“I didn’t know you were my little brother’s babysitter,” you mumbled with a small wince on your face as you dabbed ointment on the wound while he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his shoulder. He’s never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.
“It’s fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.”
He remembers the curl of your eyelashes while you stared down at his bare upper half, something he imprinted on his memory rather than the concern in your face as your fingertips traced the scars across his chest. He hoped they made you feel better about the one you just slashed into him, because after all, what was one more?
He knows he shouldn’t have, but he kissed you that night. Two minutes before your mom came home, and right after you bid him goodnight with one more apology, he backed you up against the door of your bedroom, his hands on your hips pulling you towards him, and his lips pressed against yours. Something seamless, from candid conversation that was heading towards an end, to full fledged making out against white-painted wood, his teeth nipping at your lip and he wondered just how touch-starved those university boys were leaving you given the desperate way you’d clinged to his shirt for dear life as he deepened the kiss.
The moment only lasted one minute and fifty-seven seconds, and in the remaining three, your mother’s key pushed into the front door and he had to pull away. Always, on the dot, 10PM, she was home. It was how he knew he had two minutes left to make a move in the first place.
So much for no flirting.
6:57pm Gojo Satoru: Bahahah I accidentally forgot where yuuji’s epipen is 6:58pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 6:59pm Gojo Satoru: Turns out this can-o-soup was just covering it in the cabinet
7:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): ??? why did you need to find his epipen
7:08pm Gojo Satoru: Oh he accidentally took a bite of my pad thai 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: I freaked cuz I thought it had peanuts in it but I remember I asked for it without any 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shit’s crazy
7:10pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY THE FUCK DIDNT YOU TEXT ME????????
7:12pm Gojo Satoru: YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT ME TEXTING YOU UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY ?
7:13pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): SATORU YOU THOGHT HE ATE SOMETHING W PEANUTS IN IT AND YOU FORGOT WHERE HIS EPIPEN WAS THATSS A FUCKIGN EMERGENCY
7:15pm Gojo Satoru: THE KID IS DOING FINE HES ALIVE JESUS LEAVE ME ALONE 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: See. he’s chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isn’t he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?
7:20pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(
7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh
He tried to keep his word though (although he doesn’t recall ever giving it) out of the respect he had for your mom. She was a hard-working lady, single mom of two who went from working three jobs to now being a major administrator at a big law firm near the outskirts of town. It was an underdog story if he’d ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story.
But a little texting here and there wouldn’t hurt, right? Or so he thought, until you told him to cut it out with the contact. Maybe you were just trying to be the good one in this situation. After all, hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, he’ll eventually get your replies to his which shirt should Yuuji wear to the park? and look, the toothfairy gave him the butt of a joint and a couple thumbtacks for his front tooth. he’s ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you weren’t trying to preserve propriety. And when you’d occasionally visit every other weekend, he’d do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and you’d fill up your nights with hangouts with your hometown friends to avoid spending too much time with him at the house. A silent agreement to not fuck each other, it was.
4:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(
5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]
5:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!
5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll it’s fake. We’re working on his halloween costume
5:09pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY DOES IT HAVE BLOOD?!?!?!?!?!?
5:10pm Gojo Satoru: He wants to be a baby xenomorph and I'm his parasitic host. You know that iconic chestburster scene from the old school alien movies? yeah
5:12pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something
5:13pm Gojo Satoru: I’m not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him
5:14pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. you’ve deranged his brain.
5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.
Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, he’d say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows it’s close to neither. He’s no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, he’s a con artist that’s tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because he’s trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given he’s not knocked dead before then for the crime’s amusement.
But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojo’s grown attached to him too. He taught the kid how to tie his own shoes and piss inside the actual toilet like a real man. And that kid’s the only thing that’s made him question any of this. Maybe that’s what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that you’ll stick around to see your kids get older. The thought that there are eyes on you now, eyes that are innocent and hopeful and learning, and because they know nothing at all, you feel the responsibility to protect them from everything. For fucks sake, remind him to never become a dad.
“Do you like my sister?” Yuuji had asked him out of nowhere one afternoon after he just got home from preschool, stacking a blue cube over a yellow one at the dining table.
“Uhh,” Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. “Yeah, she’s cool. You’ve got a cool sister.”
“But. But.” Yuuji stutters, trying to find his big boy words. He stretches up higher to reach the top of his stack of blocks, but he only has so much arm real estate at the age of five. “Do you like her like you wanna kiss her?”
Gojo grabs the block from the kid’s hand, for a moment questioning Yuuji’s decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kid’s concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it.
Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isn’t a kiss to a five-year-old just something their mom gives to them before they head off to preschool for the day? And not something that happens between adult men and women? Maybe he should stop watching that adult swim in front of him.
“No. I don’t want to kiss your sister,” he says, again, because he is suspicious of a wire. It was a lie and then some, because he wants to do a lot more than just kiss you.
Gojo lifts the RedBull he was nursing up to his lips and watches Yuuji in the corner of his eye as the kid stares at his growing stack of blocks with a concentrated expression on his face, his chubby fingers squeezing tightly into little round dimpled balls, like he’s putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.
“It’s ok. You can kiss her if you wan’ed to. You can marry her too,” Yuuji says.
Gojo almost spits out his RedBull. He barely manages to swallow it, a broken cough immediately leaving his throat when some of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe and he’s smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.
“Where the fu—…where the flip did that come from?” he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.
Yuuji’s small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. “I want a papa.”
Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what it’s like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojo’s not really close to his old man by any means, but he had still been a fatherly figure in some pivotal moments when he had needed it growing up. Kids need their dads. And he’s seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.
He’s also kind of shocked that Yuuji really did think of you as his motherly figure. Maybe since it had always just been him and his dad, Gojo learned how to self sustain from a young age, and he and his dad became accustomed to just looking after their own interests to avoid the headache of tending to one another. My land is my land, and your land is yours, and there was the occasional Saturday night spent together with his dad’s millions of beer bottles emptied dry on the carpet in front of the 1992 box TV as the two shared a greasy pizza from the place down the street. That was the extent of family solidarity that he knew.
But he can’t imagine being barely eighteen and having to take care of your little brother all by yourself because your mom was too busy trying to put food on the table and was too poor to hire a babysitter. Your mom tried so damn hard to keep you away from the single teenage mother life, but somehow ended up giving it to you by proxy in the end anyway. It was no wonder you wanted space now that Yuuji’s a little older and your mom can afford a babysitter. No matter how much you might love your sibling, being their effective guardian out of pure necessity had to have taken a toll.
Gojo clears his throat before he speaks. “Buddy. If I married your sister, we’d be brothers. I wouldn’t be your dad.”
Yuuji’s eyes light up at the word brother. “Brothers? Me and you?”
“Yeah. Bros.”
The kid giggles, all bubbly with cheeks rounding fully and eyes sparkling. Gojo reaches out to ruffle at his hair before Yuuji gets down onto one stubby leg at a time from the chair then bolts towards the kitchen.
“Juice!!” he yells somewhere around the corner out of sight.
Gojo sighs, staring at all the toys he pulled out for Yuuji to play with, all left in a scattered mess across the table. He gets up out of his chair and heads towards the fridge. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your juice, you little demon.”
The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids don’t really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them.
This is what he thinks of tonight when he wraps his worn out boxing tape around his hands and his wrist, tightening it with his teeth, and he can smell the sweat and grime from them. The back of the underground gym had an old dated locker room, and as Gojo stretches his neck side to side while sitting on the stiff metal bench, he eyes the peeling red paint of the locker in front of him, blurring vision making it look like spilt blood.
His phone pings with a text. He shuffles inside his duffle bag to look for it while his other hand scratches at his bare chest.
1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y i’m
He blinks at the screen, confusion flashing across his face. He types one letter, but then he sees three dots and a speech text bubble in the bottom left, so he waits for you.
1:09am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i drunk :(
The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly.
1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell
1:10am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): at a apartyyyy
His eyebrows raise slightly, the thought of you tipsy on some frat party couch flashing through his mind, yet of all things you could be doing at that frat party, you’re texting him? Must be a really boring party.
1:11am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?
1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldn’t sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Don’t you have a midterm in the morning?
1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that
1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge
1:15am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): im so fucked;’;(((
He snorts. He’s got a bit more life experience than you, five-ish years to be exact, more than enough time to master the no-hangover hangout, but just before he can offer you some advice, he sees another text from you.
1:16am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): can i tell u smething
His gaze flits up to the ceiling briefly, and he hears commotion outside the thick walls of the locker room. The previous fight was over, and fast. The guy must’ve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up.
1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure
He stands up, placing his phone down on the bench before he flexes the muscles in his arms a couple times to get the blood flowing into them. And there’s the noise of another ping. Actually, four.
1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i thikn of 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): *kissed me
His eyes widen slightly, irises dry to the ashy cigarette smoke from outside lingering in the air, and his heart rate picks up a bit. An adrenaline junkie with close to no fear in his veins due to the way his amygdala’s been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet he’s got his breath hitched from the memory of your soft lips against his. It makes the blood rushing through the muscles of his arms rush somewhere down south instead.
Loud banging on the door of the locker room jolts him out of his trance, and he’s stiff around the edges once more.
“Satoru! You’re up, man,” he hears Danny, the fight coordinator, yell at him from the other side of the heavy & poorly-installed steel door.
Gojo sighs, glancing down at the texts on his phone. To respond, or not to respond. You’re off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain you’ll regret every life decision you’ve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors you’ve engaged in tonight. He knows that responding to you might put you at ease rather than straight up ignoring you, but the feeling will pass, and he has a match to win with no more room left to stall.
He makes his way out the locker room, pushing past the crowded halls of people underneath dim flashing club lighting, some dudes angrily jerking to face him when he pushes past them with a stiff shoulder, only for their eyes to widen when they see just exactly who pushed them.
There’s strippers in the ring, doing some routine for pre-match, and Gojo narrows his eyes at the man he sees laying back over the rubber boundary rope, head tipped back up to the ceiling with a wicked grin on his face. So that was his opponent? He’s never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while they’ve been preparing to be here for weeks. Hence why boxers tend to do better when they visit a different district than they do in their own. There have been rules made to limit these types of fights, mostly over outrage that it was unfair to bid on them, but they were also usually more entertaining to watch. Gojo’s got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.
“Hey,” Gojo calls out, grabbing Danny by the back of his collar and dragging him towards him and away from the girls stepping down onto the floor, “what’s in for this fight?”
Danny glances up at the ceiling. “Tarp’s bettin’ tonight, so it can’t be anything less than ten grand for you. I’d say tops fifteen?”
Gojo narrows his eyes further, then glances off into the ring again. The man stands up, and Gojo gets a better look on his face. He’s got short hair, neon green in color with a dark fade underneath and tattoos all over his face. But those eyes. They were freakishingly red, and it made him uneasy. He knows the type. The type of boxers that do this to genuinely hurt people for thrill. Make no mistake, Gojo understands he’s made himself out to be like that too, gaining some kind of rush out of this profession, but this type of fighter was different. The type to literally continue smashing a dude’s face into the floor until they’re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because that’s the kind of action the spectators wanted.
Danny reads his line of sight. “That’s Gale. Newton’s new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. He’s undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,” Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. “Chances are he’ll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. I’m talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this.”
“Uh-huh,” Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Danny’s elbow falls from it. Forget the money, he just wants to make it out of this alive.
He sets his foot up on the square, ducking through the dividing boundary straps and the tacky caution construction tape that the gym thinks creates an exciting ambience. He hears the static of the speakers as the announcers call out Gojo’s name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojo’s chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena.
The dim overhead lights flickered, casting shadows over the makeshift ring, and the crowd pressed tight around at every perimeter area, yelling and pushing, one even tosses a beer bottle on the square and it shatters, spreading glass all across, a few shards reaching Gojo’s feet and he looks down at them with a shudder. A fight immediately breaks out in the crowd over something related or possibly entirely unrelated, and he’d have no way of knowing as he swipes the shards away with his heel.
The influential men always sat up on higher seating, off towards the back in their own VIP section where they suck in the smoke of fat cigarettes and peer through 100% tinted sunglasses to assess the boxers they’ve bid thousands on. The light reflects off the golden grills of their teeth with every snarl at any passerby that gets too close, like a lion in its den. That’s what the sanction was called. Lion’s den.
Gojo sighed, eyeing the twisted grin of this Gale guy across from him. Was that his real name? Usually, foreign district guys get nicknames. Gojo’s always thought the nicknames were tacky, and he’s accumulated some of his own over the years, but to his ears, none of them ever really landed, although The White Fox admittedly was kinda nice. Reminded him of throwback shooting games.
He sucked a breath in through his teeth, holding his hands up in front of his chest in weak fists, storing energy in them in the form of pure anticipation alone, and then the bell rang.
His opponent lunged towards him immediately, fists flying in a barrage of reckless strikes, and Gojo’s eyes momentarily widened in the briefest moments of hesitation he had been allowed before ducking and dodging every one of this guy's shots, then jumping a step back to create distance.
Fuck. He was fast. Not just boxer fast, athlete fast. There was a difference. And it wasn’t a good one to be up against.
Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldn’t win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and he’ll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guy’s face, grin wide like he’s some cannibalistic beast.
Stepping back towards the center, Gojo purposefully set himself up for Gale to swipe a vicious hook towards his head, before Gojo last minute ducked down, crouched to the floor, and swung his leg out to knock the guy off balance by his ankles, and he falls onto his back with a loud thud!
There’s a moment of momentary silence from the crowd, right before Gojo put the man in a torso-lock, twisting him in a way a human body should absolutely not be twisted, hearing the grunts of pain and the crack of spine even through the shouts of the crowd.
He can hear it. Kill him! Knock his fucking teeth out! Snap his neck like a goose, man! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM!
He feels like throwing up.
Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasn’t really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. “This is enough, right?” he asks.
The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”
Gojo lets go of his opponent, leaving him there to heave for a moment before he gets up onto his feet again. Just needs one more, and he’s a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he won’t have to come back here for a couple weeks.
Gale gets up, swiping at the spit that had trickled out the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and he had an enraged look on his face. The second the bell rang for the second round, he exploded forward towards Gojo with even more fervor than before, gritted expression with a thirst for violence fueling the storm of punches he was throwing towards Gojo but he tried to remain calm, light on his feet, swiftly duck and avoid before he can find another opportunity to clear a sharp, clean jab right to the ribs—
sometimes, i think of when you kissed me
Gojo misses his strike, leaving his guard wide open, and Gale takes the opportunity to land a solid punch straight to his jaw, sending his mouth guard flying straight out of his mouth into the air, and knocking him backwards onto the ground with a thud and then he finds himself staring up at the rusting metal ceiling and a ringing in his ears that almost matches the roar of the crowd.
His head is in a haze, dizzy like where one second could feel like a millennia. He feels a soreness underneath his chin, a pain that radiates to his mouth, and he briefly swipes his tongue over his front teeth to make sure he still has all of them.
What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. There’s no intrusive thoughts allowed in life or death situations, not when he was always just one smash to the head away from a permanent concussion. But, fuck, he can’t help it. Can’t help thinking of you. Even when his vision has gone blurry and he should really be weary about what happens next in this ring, his mind’s just thinking about you, at some frat party, tipping back shots of tequila and waiting for a text-back in response to your tipsy ones. Were you even waiting up on him? Have you already passed out on the couch, or were your friends dragging you back to your dorm? Or are you fucking some other dude right now? Has he got his hand up your top, squeezing at you, sleazily feeling you up before spilling beer all down your shirt, and are you kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, your phone now somewhere long slipped between the cushions of the couch and out of sight?
Even though it’s still sore, he tenses his jaw. Grinds his teeth, even. Tasting blood somewhere along the line of his gums, he realizes his lip is split. He licks at it, the flavor of copper more rich on his tongue, and he clenches his fists tightly. Why’s he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe that’s what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although he’s not sure why the guy across from him at the ring has to pay for it.
He lifts his head up off the ground, and while it felt like years he had been down, a glance at the timer tells him it’s only been a solid four seconds. A solid four seconds that his opponent had to fully charge a lunge towards him with the look of death in his face, raising his elbow up into the air in time with his leap, ready to come straight down, and Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight above him from where he’s still lying on the wood.
“Shit—” he cusses, rolling his body over to the side so that the dude falls straight down onto the floor rather than elbow Gojo in the fucking ribs, and then he gets back up on his feet.
Stakes were high, he has to end this, he has to end this now, and he flexes the muscle in his right bicep, channeling everything he has into this one blow, and before Gale even really has a chance to turn around and face him again, Gojo’s already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guy’s chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before he’s sent flying backwards and slammed against the tight rubber lining of the ring to where he was half hanging over it.
The room fell silent for a split second, then erupted in a roar as the referee fell to one knee beside Gale, checking him for any semblance of consciousness, and when he found none, he waves the match off.
Gojo’s eyes flit up towards the lion’s den, the only opinions that he really needed to care about were sitting in those mahogany chairs with glasses of scotch swirling around in their hands, and he sees some of them looking straight at Gojo before leaning towards one another and discretely talking about something he can’t make out because he doesn’t know how to read lips.
He feels someone tug at his arms from behind, pulling him to crouch down and he balances back on the balls of his feet. He glances down through the ring at the floor. Danny was leaning against the wooden surface of it. “Dude. Go.” He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. “Go fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I don’t know, get some more blood out of him.”
“What?” Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Danny’s grip. “The fuck are you saying?”
“I told you, man, Newton’s here and he’s got his eye on you. Go give him a show,” Danny says, “do it.” And when he sees clear frustration on Gojo’s face he sighs. “Twenty-five grand, consider that, will you?”
Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Danny’s feet. “Go fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.” And then he ducks underneath the bands and hops back down onto the floor, pushing past people who were trying to grab at him and pull at him and lift him up and even throw him down until he made it through flashing hallways and back to the locker room.
He shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt lock into the frame so no one can follow him inside, and then he leans his weight back against the chilling steel before tipping his head back until it hits the surface too.
He lets out of a few deep breaths, then stares down at the sting he finds over his knuckles. Red and blistering from the last punch he delivered, and he’s almost certain he broke a bone in his hand. Fuck. It was bleeding across the cuts, too. He had to figure out a way to get it all healed by tomorrow, as if that was humanly possible, just because he doesn’t want Yuuji questioning him about it.
Yuuji. For fucks sake, when has he ever thought about the kid this much? When has he ever thought about much of anything when he’s out here or in the ring? He’s a babysitter by day. He’s a “part” of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. That’s it. He’s no five-year-old’s caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking of you when facing big, burly men he’s aiming to rough up, all within the dead hours of night. So then how come these thoughts are on his mind at all times, twenty-four-seven, around the clock?
He heads further into the locker room, glancing down at the bench where he’d left his phone, then picks it up, neck craned all the way down to glance at the screen as he holds his phone by his hip because he doesn’t have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight.
He sees your messages. You never sent any follow-up ones, just your horrendously typed out sonetimes, i thikn of when u kisse me *kissed me across the span of four texts, and Gojo runs a tired hand down his face.
He tips his head back to groan at the ceiling, guttural with no basis other than a release of all the pent up frustration of every sort, then he types in a couple messages to you,
3:23am Gojo Satoru: That’s nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the time
—and then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
You’re awoken to your alarm blaring heavily, and you whack your arm across your nightstand table beside your tiny twin-size bed to hit the snooze button, then rub your eye with a loose fist while smacking at the residual taste of alcohol you have on your tongue.
“Mm…” you mumble to yourself. And then the thirst hits you. The overwhelming, intense, unquenchable thirst that leaves your mouth feeling like the Sahara desert before you grab your twice-dented Hydroflask from the nightstand, twist the cap off and chug about twenty ounces of water in one breath.
You let out a deep exhale and fall back into bed, your hand resting on top of your water-filled tummy, and you stare up at the ceiling of your dorm.
Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldn’t have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam in—you checked the time on your phone—about an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache that’s pounding through your head. But your roommates insisted you went, and so go you did. You never knew what to expect, always torn between shaving your pussy before you go or throwing on a stained pair of sweatpants to keep the guys away instead. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. But last night, you ended up drinking more than you usually do, and that always led to poor, poor, poor decisions, in which all the sense of pride you had in yourself was washed down with the puke that you hurled into the upstairs toilet.
You grab at your phone again, briefly seeing that your friends had sent you some photos from the night. You immediately swiped off to the side to dismiss the notifications, because as far as you were concerned, you never wanted to see those photos in your life.
And then, in the briefest of moments, you saw a familiar name in your notifications that made you heart skip a beat.
Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)
With an immediate gasp, you pulled your phone to your chest and held it there, blinking up at the pale yellow ceiling, your heart picking up in rhythm.
Oh fuck.
That was right.
You drunk texted him last night.
You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.
Fuck.
Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you don’t even remember what you said, and so you don’t even want to see what he replied with.
You groan, rubbing both your hands across your face then kick your sheets back with your feet like a child having a temper tantrum because you were so embarrassed you had even texted him at all last night. I mean, he was hot. A little older than you, really gorgeous eyes, tall, and, yeah, you gave him shit for the Instagram muscles thing, but that’s only because you thought he’d find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that he’s more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man you’ve ever met. You didn’t want to have a flustered schoolgirl attitude because it would just seep through to his ego.
In any case, he was hot, there was no denying it, so can you really blame yourself? But still. There was collateral with this. You had to see him every other weekend. He knows your family, even your extended since they invited him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks ago. A high-risque drunk text recipient if he ever was one (of course he has been, look at that face). Why couldn’t you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJ’d you underneath your desk at the back of the lecture hall instead?
The thing that made you nervous about Gojo Satoru was that he was just so…confident? Like, in that I was raised to be this way confident and not that I fought inner demons my whole life to barely end up this way confident, y’know? Never had to fake it ‘til he made it, he just was. At least that was the kind of energy you got from him, and unfortunately for you, it was nerve wracking but enticing all at the same time.
You sigh. “Stupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair to grip at the strands.
You pull your phone away from your chest, and finally brave yourself to read the texts from your notifications screen, but not without blurring your vision a little to further stall. And then you finally refocus it to read them. The first one you see has you gasping—
3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter): I think about fucking you all the time
It has heat spreading across your cheeks, and you blink at your screen, then quickly swipe up to read the previous messages with rushed glides of your index finger on the screen to see that he had sent it to you in response to your barely coherent texts about how you still so often think about that time he randomly pressed you up against the door of your bedroom to kiss you that night you first met him.
I think about fucking you all the time
At 3 in the morning? He decided to send that text at 3 in the fucking morning? That was the devil’s hour. What’s he trying to tell you?
Oh come on, you’re not stupid. And you know he isn’t either. The sexual tension was palpable, it was there since the day you two met and you almost stabbed him, and also everytime you were visiting the house, and his shoulder brushes against yours when he’s trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when you’ve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojo’s sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. There’s even sexual tension over the phone, in those stupid texts he sends you all the time about meaningless child care stuff, and honestly, those little updates made your day.
But… you don’t know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And she’d probably pulverize him if she found out he ever made a move on you. Cremated without leaving a trace behind would be an understatement. She thinks he’s no good and she thinks you’re too good. You know she’s warned him before to not get close to you, as if she was pre-emptively expecting him to try to get in your pants like it was some canon force of the universe, hence why he’s probably so fucking awkward around you whenever she’s there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so he’d rather not risk it by just avoiding looking at you at all.
Your mom has always been protective of you. Your father was a deadbeat, one she thought she loved, only to watch him leave. And she had to raise a baby all by herself. He re-entered your lives right before you graduated high school, knocked up your mom again with Yuuji, and guess what? Left again without a trace. To be doubly humiliated by a man is a fate you wouldn’t wish on any woman, but that’s exactly what your mom went through. It was a wake-up call for her, though. No more living paycheck to paycheck like you had been your whole lives up until Yuuji was born. The kid doesn’t even know how lucky he is with everything he has right now. Your mom worked her way up the corporate ladder and made something of herself and now you guys were comfortable, so it was safe to say she had some sort of right to look after her daughter, of whom she simply doesn’t want to follow in the same naive footsteps of her youth.
You get it. She wants to break the generational cycle. But it made being with men tough on all fronts, let alone dating. You could never bring a guy home because he’d never be enough, even if he cured cancer or could make you orgasm while doing a sixty-nine handstand. And while her overbearing paranoia over what you do or where you are or who you’re with has since dimmed slightly since you officially moved out to finish your last year of higher education at NYU, you can still feel her disappointment from a hundred miles away when you’re making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.
But you got to college. You’ve already made it this far. You’re on dean’s list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. You’re the most highly decorated cello player in the state. You won Miss County pageant when you were sixteen for your philanthropic efforts towards feline leukemia. You did online community college for three years so you could stick back after high school and help your mom raise Yuuji, which meant that you had to forfeit your scholarship to Cornell. You’ve spent your whole life being good, you just wanna be bad for a little bit.
And if bad meant fucking the hot and mysterious babysitter, then so be it.
You pick your phone up, begin blasting what the hell by Avril Lavigne on your dorm room bluetooth speaker, then type a message to him that says—
10:34am you: do it then
—then shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life i’ve been good, but now, ahhhh i’m thinkin’ what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but he’ll thank them for it later once his balls are empty.
He’s got you on your back, sprawled across the couch in the living room, the first fuck being a rushed one that you offered him with before he has to go pick Yuuji up from circle time at preschool, which wasn’t ideal, but he’s delirious at the sight of you underneath him right now. Your little NYU shirt, a tighter one this time, bunched up over your bare breasts, otherwise entirely naked other than the flimsy panties dangling at your ankle, and the view of the tip of his cock looking hot and heavy against the velvet of your cunt, slowly pushing in, feeling the warmth of your walls squeeze around him paired with the sweet moan that leaves your lips, makes him fall forward with a bracing hand dug into the cushion by the side of your head because the sensation feels so fucking good he can hardly keep himself upright.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but he’s still got a couple inches he needs you to take, and so you curl your hips upwards towards the cieling to make more room for him, practically putting yourself into a mating press and soon enough he’s balls deep, “you on any birth control?”
“Uh-huh,” you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.
“I can cum inside then, yeah?” he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.
“Let’s get there first, and then we’ll discuss,” you breathe out.
“I’ve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,” he informs you flatly, because it was just the truth and you had to know it, then he feels himself twitch inside, slowly working up to a languid rhythm, almost fearfully like your mom’s going to pop out somewhere around the corner with a camera crew ready like one of those retro TV shows just to humiliate him on national television for not keeping it in his pants like she’d told him to.
“Harder,” he hears you whisper, and he rolls his eyes shut to just focus on the feeling. The feeling of your nails grazing down the skin of his chest and his abs, tracing the scars he’s collected over the years, and he feels you tightening around him. He leans down to kiss you, fucking you properly now with the squeak of the couch springs echoing across the room, your hums of moans seeping through his lips until he’s fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue.
The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment he’s lost all sense of control. He wasn’t just an adrenaline junkie that liked to rough up dudes, he was an adrenaline junkie that wanted to fuck you against all better judgement or moral compass. The way your tits were bouncing, the slap of skin on skin, his balls slapping against your ass while you wrap your legs around him tighter, all convincing him that any consequence made it worth it.
“Good,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rams his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears and he feels heat spread all the way up his neck, “goooood, keep squeezin’ me like that, fuck.” He slows down momentarily, just to take a moment and watch, really look and see the way his length disappears inside of your pretty self with every push forward, and then he works back up to a relentless pace that has you tipping your head back with a slack jaw and eyes closed tightly shut, sprained expression of pleasure spread across.
“Oh, oh my god, Satoru—” you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.
“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His hand finds it’s way between your legs, calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your clit and you jolt underneath him, gasping as your hand shoots out to dig your nails into his bicep for purchase. “I’m gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.”
“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”
He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, “Atta girl,” he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as they’d go near your ears, folding you in half and then reigns all hell into your cunt. He should really care a bit more about your pleasure, but testing your flexibility like this with both his hands holding you down was doing sinful things to his brain, and besides, you had yourself covered with the messy circles you were rubbing over your clit. It was hot to see that too, your nimble pretty fingers so close to the place where he was pounding into you.
“Oh shit, shit, shit—” he grunts when starts to see blistering white in his vision, balls straining with a pleasure that was almost painful. The moment he finishes feels like hot flashes in his brain, a heat like the cum he begins to paint inside your walls in time with your release, thrusting over and over and over, each one more staggered as he lets off a long, drawn out groan that comes from deep within his chest with the feeling of you milking him dry and the sound of you enjoying every second of it. He can’t remember the last time he came this much or this hard and even after coming down from the high, he feels the remnant pulse of your orgasm around his now half-flaccid dick.
He leisurely pulls out, hearing you let out a soft whimper as he marvels at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you and down towards the couch, before he scoops it up with a couple fingers and pushes it back inside. You grip his wrist tightly, but you weren’t stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.
“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.
“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.
He pulls his fingers out of you, coated with sex, then plugs your pussy with the fingers of his other hand because he kinda likes the idea of you walking around all day with him inside of you, so he doesn’t want it getting out. He’s then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find he’s met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, “bet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.”
Your furrow your brows at him, the pout of your lips seen in the way they were puckered to lick his fingers off clean, and when you release the suction with a smack of your tongue and his fingers were wet from your saliva now, his eyes narrow with desire. You push his face away with the heel of your palm to his forehead. “Flattery won’t make me suck your dick.”
“Alright. So? How is it?” he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until he’s hovering over you again, “taste good?”
“It’s cum, Satoru.”
He shrugs. “Bad?”
“No,” you say, and you can’t make eye contact, “good.” You sigh. “Hot. I don’t know. Salty, sweet. I’m the sweet. You’re the salty. And this conversation is obscene.”
He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste what’s on yours. “I like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.”
There’s the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.
“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”
He gets up off the couch in a panic, and heads to the window of the living room fully butt-ass naked, then peers through the blinds to see—
Your mom was making it up towards the front door, rustling with her keys in her purse. And the last thing he sees before he turns around to face you is her pushing the keys through the lock.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he cusses, finding his boxers off of the floor, hopping on one foot with his cum & slick coated dick flapping around and slapping against his thighs unceremoniously as he tries to get one leg in through them and then the other. You’re trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, he’s still sad he can’t freely stare at your tits anymore. You’re rummaging for your skirt in a haste, looking everywhere for it, and he finds it underneath the coffee table before tossing it to you and then he side-to-side hops towards the coat closet while he pulls his sweatpants up over his ass, in time for you to quickly run and shut the door of the closet closed just before the front door of the house swings open.
The inside of the coat closet is dark, barely enough space in there for a six-foot-four two-hundred-and-twenty pound man, but it’s better than being balls deep inside his boss’s daughter on the couch when said boss just came home from work.
He hears conversation on the other side of the door, albeit muffled, and he presses his ear to it to hear better while he tucks his dick into his boxers from where it was hanging over the waistline.
“Mom! You…you’re home so early,” he hears you squeak out.
“Yes,” your mom says, “The rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured I’d come home when there’s less traffic.”
Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.
“I see, I see, how was your day at work?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.
“Fine.” And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasn’t really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means she’s suspicious about something. “Darling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.”
Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. “Oh, um, I just went to pee. Must’ve—…must’ve got caught when I pulled it back up.”
“I see,” your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. “You know, I really don’t like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe it’s just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.”
“Mom,” you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.
Your mother sighs. “In any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I don’t have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.”
“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” you chirp, and then he hears you let out a small oh no before you lean even more weight against the door, this time somewhere lower, and he realizes you’re pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizes— his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldn’t put your panties on fast enough.
Shit. That’s hot. A little fucked up, but hot. He feels his dick harden against the fabric of his boxers, and he rests his forehead against the door, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat as he slips his hands down his sweatpants and then gives his cock a firm squeeze. The thought of you discretely swiping his cum up your inner thigh and smearing it against your thin panties so your mom doesn’t catch sight of it dripping down your legs has him slowly working up to a rock-solid erection, and he almost lets out a broken grunt from the feeling.
“What?” your mother says, “what do you mean you don’t know?”
“I’ve just been watching TV this whole time,” you say, “last time I saw him…he was…um, in the backyard pulling weeds?”
He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad.
Your mother sighs loudly, and he glances down at the strained veins on his dick as he tugs it through his hand, the tip rearing and appearing flushed and dripping with precum. God, you were just on the other side of this door. Less than a few inches away, and he’d be inside of you.
“I’m going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,” your mother says in a more or less detached tone, and he can hear the stomps of her footsteps up the stairs from above him in the coat closet.
The two of you wait at least a solid minute, and just when the coast is clear, he hears you turn the knob of the coat closet and slowly crack it open.
“Okay, I think she’s in the shower, I hear the water running,” you whisper at him, “you can go now—” You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. “What—…Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!” you whisper-hiss at him.
He pulls you into the coat closet, pushing your front against the door to where it clicks shut, and you gasp when his hands pin your wrists crossed behind your back and his dick presses into the plush of your ass.
“You talkin’ to your mom while your pussy’s stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing that’s ever grazed my lizard brain,” he tells you, flipping your skirt up and hooking your panties to the side, his index finger briefly brushing against your entrance to find it still leaking from the way your walls were pulsating from his words. And then he aligns his tip to your entrance. “Now keep quiet while I do this, ‘kay?”
“Oh—” you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, “okay—” you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before he’s already stuffing himself inside of you with one solid glide of a push, making you yelp loudly and he has to instantly cup a hand over your mouth.
“Shhhhhh,” he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, “told you to— fuuuck,” he catches sight of his length covered with a mix of your glassy arousal and his white cum, now starting to cream at the base of his cock, “jesus christ—” he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, “I told you to fuckin’ keep quiet.”
“I’m—mff,” you muffle against his palm, “I’m trying but,” your hips move back in time with his, “feels good, feels too good,” you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.
“Yeah?” he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, “you like it when I fuck you while your mom’s all clueless just up the stairs?” His rhythm falters, feeling his release building, and his hand reaches in front of you to rub your clit, making you drop your head against the door with tightly closed eyes. “Gets— you—wet, doesn’t it?” he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable.
“Mhm, mhm,” you easily agree, or maybe that’s because it’s all you can really articulate, and he angles his hips up so his balls slap more fervently against your clit, making you scream into his palm while he picks up the pace of the circles he draws on your clit and in one, two, three— beats of his pounding heart, he feels you come undone around his cock, gushing wetness leaking out of you, he can feel the mess of fluids splattering on the skin of his thighs due to each of his heaving thrusts as he cusses out a fuuuuuuckkk before spilling his cum inside of you, a short-lived and thicker release this time that has you mewling from overstimulation, and in a few following thrusts, he’s given you everything he had to give.
His eyes open, he wasn’t even aware he had shut them in the first place, and he glances down at where the two of you were joined. Rings of arousal coat the length of his half-pulled-out dick, and the second he retreats all of it, a bulging push of his cum seeps out of you, dripping and pooling all over the hardwood floors.
“Holy shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,” he says, taking a step away to commit the sight to memory, your legs trembling and still slightly spread, ass pushed out and when you wiggle it a little, he lets out a huff of an exhale because he just can’t believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? He’s never been to college, his old man’s been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.
“No pics,” you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, “that’s my one sex rule.”
He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. “That’s the only rule you have? Anything else goes?” he asks.
You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. “I have a feeling I’d be making up more specific rules if it was with you.”
He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. “I also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didn’t do.”
You blink your eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“What?” he asks, genuinely confused, “I didn’t.”
“Huh—” you scoff, “how do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didn’t just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.”
“Nahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, that’s not flirting,” he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, “that’s, like—…I don’t even fuckin’ know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.”
“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”
“I never said you were stupid?”
“Well you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean I’m stupid.”
“Pshhh. You’re cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.”
Your hand slowly roams up the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching at your wrists until you uncovered up to his collar bone, and you stare at his skin. He tries to not let the way his heart’s beating faster show through the heave of his chest.
“Why do you have all these scars, anyway?” you whisper to him.
“Too many girls tryna stab me,” he tells you.
You roll your eyes. “Seriously.” Your thumb traces the one you had left on him.
“I—” He stops himself.
Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because he’s seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen he’s supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesn’t know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, I’m an underground boxer might make you think he’s hot? At the very worst, you’ll report him to the cops and he’d get fired as your little brother’s babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.
“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time,” he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, “no hyper personal details until you’ve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. That’s my one rule.”
You snort. “I could’ve guessed that rule from a mile away.”
He hums. And then there’s the sound of steps creaking down the stairs above the two of you.
You both make eye contact, eyes widening, internally yelling at each other: how the fuck did we get into this situation twice?!
This time, Gojo opens the door and stumbles out of the closet, leaving you inside of it, just in time for your mom to come down the stairs.
“Satoru. I was looking for you,” she says as she rounds the post. “Have you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.”
“Ah, nope, was just about to head out,” he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, “sorry, I was—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, “…pulling out some gnarly weeds.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “I see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.” And he’s not sure how to respond because he’s not sure if she’s joking.
He heads out the door, the keys to your mom’s minivan in his palm as he throws them up into the air and catches them a couple times. And just before he gets inside the car, he turns on his heel to face the house and pulls his phone out of his pocket to type in a message for you.
3:22pm Gojo Satoru: Send over those me-specific sex rules soon
.
.
.
[the end]
a/n. hope u enjoyed im shitting bricks posting this bc i haven't posted a oneshot smut since february but thanks so much for reading i appreciate u!! i got way too invested in the whole underground boxer thing 😂😂 but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know i’m a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n it’s a lil angsty (totally different au tho) i’ll probs post that one next but yea i really like, hmm, i really like exploring entire characters within a short amount of time i enjoy writing the obscure lore drops xd it’s been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3
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Prompt by: @shiwalkers-ineffability
DpxDc snarky danny lives in Gotham and is just trying to get a degree but keeps almost getting adopted by various members of the Justice League
“Listen, I’m not like 12 or whatever age you think I am, I am an adult that is going to his class at college, I am near graduation and would like to focus more on that then whatever issue it is you have with me.”
To be fair to Dick, the guy in front of him really did look like a middle schooler…a middle schooler that just came out of a package store with a bag filled with various types of alcohol.
The face glaring up at him still had baby fat, voice still at that young age, a little on the too thin side but not unhealthy yet…he looked like he just got back from the playground. How and why did the store owner sell him alcohol?
“I can see it in your face, it’s the same one all those other heroes had when they ran into me, I have an I.D., I have a job, I fucking pay taxes, I do not need help or supervision. Fuck off.”
And the guy was moving, short legs stomping away.
“Wait, hold on, I still have questions!”
There was a sigh and the kid turned around to stare at him, “What? I do not need the furry brigade busting into my apartment, so get what you want to ask out of the way. Fucking worse then red underwear guy back in Metropolis.”
“You mean Superman?”
“I don’t care what his name is, he thought I was a lost kid and took me to the precinct to call my parents. Got laughed at is all what happened.”
“What’s with all the alcohol?”
“College student, just aced an extremely hard and taxing test and me and some friends are celebrating and it was my turn to do the alcohol run and before you continue on with this, yes, the guy checked my ID, I’m old enough by several years. Just do your weird stalker thing and look me up.”
“Right, ‘weird stalker thing?,’”
“You are not and won’t be the last “hero” to make this mistake.”
Nightwing just smiled and tapped on his communicator, “Hey, Oracle-“
“-Tell Danny I said hi and leave him alone, this is a Babydoll situation.”
“Oh, um, Oracle says hi…”
“Glad she remembers me from the last couple of times, so tell her hello and goodbye, I’m on a schedule.”, and with that Danny was storming off.
“Oof, this happen a lot, O?”
“You have no idea.”
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stupid appendix | oscar piastri
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary; oscar piastri biggest fan (his girlfriend) goes crazy when he wins his first grand prix, and she isn’t there to see it.
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 761,305 others!
yourusername: it’s race week again, except i’m praying oscar doesn’t win because i’m getting my appendix taken out and if he wins, and im not there, i will go fucking ballistic. 
view comments below!
oscarpiastri: wow, thanks for all the support! 🥰
yourusername: i love you with my whole heart octopus, but if you win and im not there? i will never forgive you.
oscarpiastri: and what am i supposed to do if i start leading?
yourusername: stop, and let everyone pass you!
oscarpiastri: so i won’t be doing that! lovely conversation 👊
yourusername: YOU NEVER LOVED ME
user1: why’d she just call oscar octopus?
yourusername; that’s his name?
user1: no..his name is oscar?
yourusername; he was born octopus jack piastri, but got bullied a lot, so he changed his name to oscar when he was 16 😓
user1: really?
yourusername: yeah, and i would know!
user1: ig…LOL who names their kid octopus?
yourusername: RIGHT??
oscarpiastri: STOP TELLING PEOPLE I CHANGED MY NAME. MY NAME WAS NOT OCTOPUS.
user1: oh…well now i’m embarrassed
user2: don’t be, she’s done this to at least 30 fans now
maxverstappen1: don’t worry, i’ll make sure he doesn’t win 😏
yourusername: thank you max! you’re my only REAL friend <3
landonorris: excuse me?
yourusername; tell me lando, would you throw oscar into the grandstands to prevent him from winning this race?
landonorris: no?
yourusername: FAKE
landonorris: okay, you know what, it’s not MY fault that you decided to take your appendix out THAT DAY.
yourusername: I DIDNT DECIDE IT. IT WAS FORCED UPON ME.
landonorris: RESCHEDULE THE SURGERY FOR THE NEXT DAY! 
yourusername: wait.
oscarpiastri: NO. you will be having that surgery on sunday. and you will not being rescheduling.
yourusername: I HATE YOU OCTOPUS
oscarpiastri: you can hate me all you want, you’re still getting that surgery.
user3: on one hand i want oscar to win, on the other i dont think yn will recover if she isn’t there to witness it
charles_leclerc: i would try to stop him from winning but i don’t think i have a fast enough car for that
yourusername: it’s okay charles! i’m sure ferrari will bounce back in no time :)
charles_lelcerc: really?
yourusername; no…
charles_leclerc: nice talk! :(
user4: when you want to comfort your friend but you can’t lie for shit
user5: normally i pray that oscar will win a race, but today, ill do the opposite, just for you yn 💕
yourusername: thank you!!
user6: she is dead serious. she honestly doesn’t want oscar to win.
yourusername: i’ve never been so serious in my LIFE.
user7: no i get it, imagine going to every single on of your bfs races and the ONE time you don’t go he wins???
user8: i’d start to believe i’m back luck
carlossainz55: imagine having to get your appendix out 🤣🫵
yourusername: right? that’s so embarrassing 🤣
user9: you two are the LAST people too be talking
user10: oscar piastri does NOT win the hungary gp 🕯️ oscar piastri does NOT win the hungary gp 🕯️oscar piastri does NOT win the hungary gp 🕯️oscar piastri does NOT win the hungary 🕯️
user11: AMEN
user12: LOUDER
user13: preach!
oscarpiastri: @/yourusername, you see what you’ve done?
yourusername: beautiful work guys! oscar piastri does NOT win the hungary gp 🕯️
oscarpiastri: 😐
— race day!
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— post race interview!
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. . .
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liked by mclaren, lewishamilton, landonorris, and 719,014 others!
oscarpiastri: first grand prix win. incredible 🧡
view comments below!
carlossainz55: congrats oscar 👍
estebanocon: great job mate, first of many 👏
user14: oh i’m crying
user15: omg i am too, the tears just won’t stop
user16: first it was him winning, then it was him apologizing for winning, and now it’s yn not being there for him 💔
landonorris: congrats bro!
user17: OH OSCAR PIASTRI, OH OSCAR PIASTRI, OH OSCAR PIASTRI
user18: waiting for yn to wake up and raise hell
user19: she’s going to wake up from anesthesia and this is going to be the first thing she sees 
yourusername: what was the one thing i asked you not to do?
oscarpiastri: baby you just woke up, stop making your mom write for you, and rest
yourusername: ONE THING OSCAR. I ASKED FOR ONE THING.
oscarpiastri: stop making your mom write for you, she probably feels very uncomfortable right now
yourusername: i do - the mom
yorusername: STOP CHANGING THE SUBJECT OSCAR JACK PIASTRI. YOU ARE SOOO NOT INVITES TO MY OSCAR FIRST WIN PARTY
user20: i know that anesthesia is hitting real hard 
user21: i want to go to oscar’s first win party
yourusername: @/maxverstappen1 AND YOU. I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET HIM WIN
maxverstappen1: i’m sorry yn. i have failed you.
yourusername: …its okay max, you’ll get him next time
maxverstappen1: thank you yn ❤️
oscarpiastri: WHOS SIDE ARE YOU ON??
yourusername: NOT YOURS.
yourusername: stupid appendix.
carlossainz55: me and my homies all hate our appendix’s
user22: you don’t have one?
carlossainz55: 😐
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, 691,047 others!
yourusername: absolutely gutted to have not been there for his first win, nonetheless OCTOPUS JACK PIASTRI IS A FUCKING RACE WINNER
view comments below!
oscarpiastri: you will see me win in person love, i know it 🧡
yourusername: i love you octopus
oscarpiastri: i love you more
user22: he’s not fighting the octopus?? softie
user23: maybe she’s dying and wants her too be happy in her last moments… OMG YN ARE YOU DYING???
yourusername: NO??? i’m perfectly fine, the surgery went perfect!
user23: oh, then yeah he’s a softie
user24: worst maiden win ever
user25: SPEAK ON IT
user26: it would’ve been so much better if yn was there :(
charles_leclerc: glad your surgery went well yn!!
yourusername: thank you charles 👊 congrats on p4, your getting up there!!
charles_leclerc; thankfully! i could not handle any other bad week in the car 😞
user27: none of us could charles. none of us could.
maxverstappen1: can i congratulate oscar now?
yourusername: i guess 😒
maxverstappen1: YAY OSCAR 🥳🥳
user28: why is he acting like he wasn’t one of the first to congratulate him in person?
maxverstappen1: SHHHH YN DOESNT KNOW THAT
user29: “her health comes first.” oscar jack piastri you SOFTIE
user28: i desperately need a video of yn waking up from surgery and finding out oscar won.
oscarpiastri: i have one, there was lots of cussing, snot, and tears
yourusername; SHUT UP OCTOPUS YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT
user29: SHE HAS BEEN THERE FOR ALL HIS BIG WINS, AND THE ONE TIME—THE ONE TIME HE WINS IN FORUMLA FUCKING ONE. SHE ISNT THERE. GOD I CANT TAKE TJIS
yourusername: see, you get it 😞
. . .
notes; my post on oscar’s win!!! super super super proud of him <33
#oscar piastri social media au#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 social media au#f1#oscar piastri x reader
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How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)
Dick: he’s insulted.
Gutted.
He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.
‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’
He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.
He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.
Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)
Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.
It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.
He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.
Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)
Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀
When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.
You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment�� was exactly.
Damian:
As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.
Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.
So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.
‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.
Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.
So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.
He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.
He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagines#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#dc fluff#nightwing x y/n#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#nightwing x reader
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from the start !
so. . what are we ??
you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.
sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.
“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.
a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.
you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.
katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.
then your name was brought up.
at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.
he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.
you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.
you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.
you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.
“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.
“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.
you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.
“ow !”
“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.
“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.
when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.
you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”
he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.
“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”
you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.
#just a silly little thing i wrote in record time in the bus#i love him sm yall dont get him like i do#just silly boyfriend katsuki tingz#him n my oc r childhood friends in my canon so thats why i made this#i love my boyfriend#I didn’t know how to end this one either#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou drabble#bakugou fluff#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x oc
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NSFW
a/n: another kofi request. This time it’s an Anatolian guard dog smut fic! Enjoy ^^
You stood out in the snow, coffee in hand as you waited by the door of the hybrid work agency. It was nice that there was somewhere that specifically hired out hybrids who were in need of work, because it helped everyone.
Lately, your apartment building had been the victim of multiple robberies, and each time the person that got robbed was closer and closer to you. Last week, your neighbor just two doors down had their entire apartment emptied out, leaving only the old food in the fridge and some lint.
So safe to say you were afraid you were going to be next.
Several of your friends suggested getting a security system, but your neighbor had one and it did nothing. No, you needed to go another route.
“Are you (Name)?”
You jumped, neatly slipping on the slick, icy sidewalk when you heard a voice behind you. Before you could fall, a hand grabbed your arm and steadied you.
When you turned, you spotted a tall man, a pair of fluffy, black dog ears. He wore a dark suit, his gloved hand pulling back from your arm once you regained your balance.
“Y-yes, I am. And you are..?”
“The guard dog you hired, my name is Duke.”
That made sense, he even had a lanyard with his name and role on it. “Ah… okay. My apartment is nearby, I already have one of the rooms ready for you. I have a few errands I have to run first though.”
Duke nodded, staying by your side as you walked. “I will accompany you.”
For the next few weeks, you had never felt safer in your life. Everywhere you went, Duke was always nearby, inspecting the area and making sure no one even thought of interrupting your peace.
Just a few days ago you were approached by a handsome looking man who claimed to have picked up something you dropped, but Duke was quick to step in front of you and twist the guy’s arm back.
“He’s got bad intentions, I can just sense it.”
For a moment you were in shock. Of course you knew Duke was big and strong, but the entire time he’d been guarding you he hadn’t shown his true strength. All he had to do was stand around you looking intimidating.
“D-Duke, he’s not-“
A handkerchief fell from the man’s pocket, and before you could pick it up Duke growled. “Don’t touch it!”
You pulled back your hand as if it had been burned, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment and a bit of… arousal.
“It’s laced. The second you touch it you’ll start feeling dizzy. This guy has probably hurt a ton of girls using this method.”
You sat in Duke’s car as he handed the guy into the police station, still feeling a bit hot and bothered. Honestly, you were super grateful for and… a bit flustered by his protective nature.
From Duke’s pov, he had plans for you the moment h you met him. From your soft figure to your need for a protector, you were perfect.
Duke wanted a mate, and he bonded with you almost instantly. Getting to stand by and keep you safe all day aroused him to no end, and between shifts he spent most of his time fucking his hand, wanting more than anything to be thrusting into you instead.
That’s why when he smelled your arousal upon entering his car, Duke was quick to get you back to your apartment.
A part of him knew that it was unprofessional to be pushing you up against a wall and sniffing at you like a beast before covering your neck in hickeys, but he couldn’t care less.
You smelled too damn good, and he was sick and tired of everyone else looking at you like you didn’t belong to him already. “My little mate… getting all worked up, need to let off some steam, hmm?”
He set you on the bed before pushing you onto your belly, lifting your hips before lightly spanking your cunt. “Naughty thing. I’ve got to keep you safe, can’t have you all wet out there when every hybrid can smell your arousal from ten miles away.”
Duke was nearly twice your size, looming over you as his cock pressed against your tight hole. He did his best to prep you, pumping two fingers, then three in and out of your sopping wet cunt before he couldn’t take it anymore.
He pushed into you, letting out a growl when you whimpered and squirmed. “Easy, you can take it… be a good girl for me, okay? My sweet girl…”
Taking him wasn’t easy at all, in fact it took a minute for you to relax enough for Duke to even move, but once you eased up he began thrusting into you like a wild animal.
It made you see stars, the way he was fucking you stipid. You felt like you were losing yourself in each thrust, your hips moving desperately to meet his.
“G-gonna cum!”
When he knotted you after your fat cunt clenched around him, you truly understood what love was. While he stuffed you full, he caged your body under his, as if trying to shield you from the cruel and nasty world. You were just a sweet thing and he couldn’t stand the thought of anything taking you away from him.
He was so gentle, like a dog tending to the sheep he guarded. Duke groomed you and stayed inside of you for a long time, his curled tail wagging lazily.
“I’m gonna take care of you, okay? Don’t even have to pay me. You’re my mate now, got it?”
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NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi
#dog hybrid#puppy hybrid bf#puppy hybrid boyfriend#puppy hybrid x reader#dog hybrid x reader#guard dog hybrid#duke bunnis ocs#bunni ocs#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#terato#teraphilia#chubby!reader#chubby reader#fat reader#monster x you#monster x reader#teratophillia#terat0philia#monster fucking#monster x human#monster x female#monster breeding#monster oc
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May you please do yandere platonic season 2 squid game reader with 13 year old reader who wants to stay
Hi can do!
Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ Pʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ Sǫᴜɪᴅ Gᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ Tᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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(MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS)
You had managed to get yourself into the games, congratulations..! I guess..
You tried to blend in but you stuck out like a sore thumb.
So many people had questions especially this guy named Gi-hun.
For some odd reason he was very insistent on you leaving.
You just couldn’t understand why, all you were gonna do was play some silly games for some cash.
How dangerous can that be?
During the first game red light green light, you knew you had this in the bag.
That was until the first shot was fired, your entire body froze. Even with Gi-hun screaming instructions you were still frozen.
Even when people began to start moving again you stood there frozen.
Tears are down your face, you were terrified.
Then someone grabbed your shoulder, it was this lady with a lip ring(player380).
She guided you along the field.
You had 30 seconds left, the people that were at the finish line screamed words of encouragement towards you.
It was strange to have so many people cheering you on all at once.
You crossed the line finally, and collapsed into player 380’s arms.
After the game you sat on the floor, ignoring the sympathetic looks from others.
You sat there thinking on what to do.
Thats when player 388 came and sat with you, he introduced himself and his friends to you.
“Are you ok..?” Gi-hun asked in a tone that could only be described as pity.
“Yea.. I think” you said quietly.
That’s when armed guards came in, they told y’all about the voting system and how you could vote to stay in the game or not.
Everyone placed their votes when it was your turn the room became eerily silent.
You could feel everyone’s eyes staring at you. Your hand hovered over the X button but then you thought about it.
About your parents and their struggle, you thought about all the loans they had to take out just to keep you in school.
You hesitated before pushing the O button.
You heard a collection of gasps and cheers.
You slowly walked towards the O side avoiding Gi-Huns look of disbelief.
You were met with pats on the back and words of support.
Then in a flash you were pulled to the side by some purpled haired guy(thanos) he did his whole introduction.
You thought he was insane, he looked cracked out.
But every time you tried leaving he would pull you back.
He looked at you as if you were an artifact that needed safe keeping.
Fortunately you pulled away by dae-ho(388).
That was when you met player 001(frontman) he stared at you intensely studying you.
They questioned you on why you chose O but you didn’t feel like explaining yourself.
From then on you had multiple people trying to convince you to join their side. They wanted you to quit the game.
You protested you wanted to stay in, but no matter what you said they never let up.
You started to not like the people you were stuck with.
Part of the reason was they treated you like a baby, some of them even coddled you.
It was nice a first, people gave you some of their food, they lended their protection to you.
But in the end it became much more annoying rather than loving.
Around the second game is when things got really bad.
People all around you offering for you to join their team, you walked around until you got pulled onto Thanos team.
You were in charge or spinning top and all though you were good you could barely focus with all the people yelling.
You managed but not before yelling some very unkind words.
After the games you had people practically swarming you, you wanted to cry and throw up all at the same time.
Then a miracle happened, player 001 pulled you out of the crowd.
Yelling at them all while holding you close to himself.
He held you close for a while, it got kinda awkward after the first 20 minutes.
It was a very overwhelming experience being in the game, along with the killing games, people were starting to seriously scare you.
I mean they were having full on arguments over you. It was kinda insane.
Even the guards treated you differently, they gave you the occasional head pat after a game, they slipped you extra food, and no matter what time it was they always let you use the restroom.
It was nice to have so many people care about you but care becomes smothering after a while.
You started becoming the apple of everyone’s eye, everyone was just so 𝙨𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜.
A/n: I hoped you liked this one, I love u all so much bye bye✌︎('ω')✌︎
#platonic yandere#yandere fanfiction#yandere platonic#yandere squid game#squid game#front man#gi hun#thanos#yandere headcanons#yandere oneshot
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ೃ⁀➷ being jun-ho's s/o would include ¡!
in which you're romantically involved with the police officer doing his best to find his brother and put a stop to the squid games
a/n : lots of love to my dearest friend @angelseraphines for not only getting me into this brilliantly-written show, but also for looking over my fic to double-check my characterisation and to give me a second opinion on it. if you aren't already following her, please go ahead and make sure that you do so 🙏
also this turned into a full-on fic please just roll with the punches 🙏bit of a cliche first date but I fear that I have very little dating experience so you guys are gonna have to deal with that, I fear.
╰┈➤ it was the middle of winter when you met the policeman for the first time. the air was crisp and frigid, icicles were hanging from rooftops and everywhere you turned you could see colourful outfits in contrast with the white snow and hear the sound of shovels scraping against sidewalks. a kind-eyed man in a reflective green vest caught your attention at the same time a car smacked a young woman and drove off.
╰┈➤ you stepped forward to testify, wanting to help out the woman. she thankfully didn't appear to be in critical danger, save for the bruising on her hip and the apparent fracture in her left hand — and so you headed off with them to the station to give your statement. the woman was allowed to give her statement and leave immediately, due to the obvious state her hand was in and her need to visit a hospital. you were left then with the kind-eyed officer from earlier, who brought you a sizzling cup of hot chocolate and sat down to wait with you until you could sign off on your witness testimony.
╰┈➤ talking with him was so relaxing for you. it felt as if you had known him for years and the banter between you and him felt natural and light. you couldn't remember when was the last time you laughed that much — little did you know that he felt the same way.
╰┈➤ as you headed off to leave, your eyes searched for him amongst the worn-out chairs and stacked files. you wanted a chance to say goodbye, regardless of the dread gathering in your chest at the thought that you'd never see him again. you were disappointed when one of his colleagues informed you that he had to head off back to his post — that was until you were handed a slip of paper with his name and number on it. he was far too professional to make the move himself, but his colleague could see you two liked one another and took it upon himself to push you towards him. with a grateful smile and a glint of unadulterated joy in your eyes, you left the building and headed off to meet up with the friend you'd made plans with that day. you would be a little late, but you were sure she wouldn't mind once you told her about your day.
╰┈➤ admittedly, it took you a couple of days to call the handsome officer, whose name you now knew to be hwang jun-ho. every time you picked up the phone, your legs would become jittery and you'd find yourself pacing around your room. a little seed of doubt took its root within you, but on the fourth day you finally gave in and pressed the call button. once he recognised your voice, his lips curled into a smile on the other end of the line. he was a bit concerned when his colleague gave you his number, but he was glad to see that you weren't put off by it. on that cold winter's night, you talked and talked until you both fell asleep grasping your phones, the line still on.
╰┈➤ these cozy evening calls became routine for the two of you, with him initiating them when he got off work. you learned more about him — that he was close with his mom, that he was set to get a promotion soon and that he wanted to work in major crimes as a detective someday and that he would often look in on his brother when he had some spare time. he didn't talk much about him, but you got the feeling that whatever it was his brother experienced wasn't something you wanted to press him much on — so you didn't. he made the effort to ask you more about yourself as well, so you talked to him about your job, your family, and your friends. you talked to him about your hobbies, the places you wanted to visit, and the things that made you happy. neither of you had ever really felt so comfortable, so quickly with another person — it was a lovely feeling, one that you both desperately latched onto.
╰┈➤ a couple of weeks after you started talking, jun-ho finally managed to get a day off. his tone of voice was dignified, yet dulcet as he invited you to go see a movie and then to dinner with him. you replied immediately and enthusiastically, gripping the phone so tightly in your hand that it almost felt like you could break it if you squeezed it in just a slightly tighter manner.
╰┈➤ like a true gentleman, he picked you up from your apartment on the day of the date and you found yourself glancing at him admiringly as he drove, trying his hardest to keep his eyes on the road and not on you. when you arrived at the cinema, you were surprised to see that the movie he got tickets for was the one you'd been raving to him about for weeks. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to go see it with a friend, but I figured it would make for a pretty good first date" he admitted with a hint of humour in his voice. you responded by telling him you thought it was a wonderful idea.
╰┈➤ the cinema hall was dark, illuminated only by the gleam of the screen as the opening scene of the movie was unfolding. he had to admit that the plot was intriguing, but he found himself glancing down at you every so often. halfway through the film, he found the courage to extend his hand, and you grasped it into yours as gleeful smile made its way onto your face. even as your hands began to feel a bit sweaty, you couldn't bring yourselves to let go.
╰┈➤ on the way to the restaurant, you launched yourselves into a proper conversation about the movie, laughing and joking about its points and twists as the rosy sunset gave way to a melancholy dusk. the staff and guests moved around in a lively manner, as the sound of glass and ceramic reverbated through the room — and the view from the windows was absolutely breathtaking. you could tell that he'd done his best to keep your preferences in mind when he was looking for a place to take you to. you held his hand across the table as you waited for the food to arrive, and you spent the better part of the evening comfortably talking to one another. every so often, his eyes would dart to your lips, but he made no move to reach across the table — not yet, at least.
╰┈➤ his shoes were crunching on the frozen ground as he followed you to your front door, and as you turned back to see your goodbye, he leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips — one which you eagerly reciprocated. he pressed a gentle kiss to both of your hands before he departed, and he called you once again as he got home.
╰┈➤ it didn't take long after that for the two of you to become an official couple. you began to visit him at work when you had the time, and he'd take an hour or two after work was done to slip by and spend some time with you. you would lounge on your couch with a glass of wine in your hand — if he was staying the night he'd drink a few too, and if he wasn't then he'd drink some tea.
╰┈➤ he would feel awful about waking you early in the morning when he had to return to his apartment and get ready for work, but he always made sure to write you a note and find your kettle so you could boil water for tea or coffee when you got up. he always kissed your forehead and whispered a sentence or two of affection before he left. he knew you couldn't hear him, but he felt the need to say them nonetheless.
╰┈➤ realistically, it wouldn't take long for you to meet his mother and brother. jun-ho always made time to visit her, and in-ho had given him his kidney. they were a close-knit family and he wanted the people most important to him to meet the person he was rapidly becoming more and more serious with. his brother seemed quiet and solemn, but he wasn't unkind. save for your greeting and goodbye, you only exchanged a few awkward words — most of which were just polite questions. you got the underlying feeling that he was a very tormented man, and the sight of a family photo on the counter with his arms wrapped around an unfamiliar woman confirmed your suspicions. jun-ho's mother, on the other hand, was incredibly warm and welcoming. she trusted her son's judgement, and she embraced you as if she'd met you a thousand times before. she prepared a fantastic meal, and she showed you photos of jun-ho and in-ho throughout their childhood. your joyous laughter echoed through the room as the younger of the two brothers covered his face with his hands. when it was time to return home, you found yourself hesitant to leave the warm atmosphere of the older woman's apartment — she made you promise to come visit her often. you agreed enthusiastically.
╰┈➤ when you returned home that evening, you asked him about his brother. he opened up to you then, about all the things he'd never really talked about. about the week his brother went missing a couple of years ago, about the death of his brother's pregnant wife and about the kidney he received from his brother. his voice was on the verge of breaking as he uttered out one string of words after the other, and his eyes began to gloss over. you held him close then, and from that moment on it was as if he could tell you anything — trust you with everything. it was the turning point between being two people who truly liked eachother to being partners.
╰┈➤ the change from living apart to living together was pretty seamless. at one point, you both realised that most of his stuff was already at your place and you just ended up moving the rest of it in. from that point on, he never really had to worry about going back to his place or getting up extremely early to get ready for work. you'd stay awake huddled under the blankets with his arms wrapped around you as you kept one another up to date with what you got up to during the day, and what you wanted to do as soon as you found some free time.
╰┈➤ if you're out together and he sensed that the chill from the cold weather outside is getting to you, he'd sneakily slip his jacket around your shoulders and offer you a teasing quip as he zipped it up with a light smirk on his face. your protests of not being that cold would be met with an exasperated look.
╰┈➤ you didn't hear him the first time he told you he loved you. as he kissed your forehead and whispered to you in the morning, it simply slipped out. he didn't realise it until he spoke it out loud. when he returned home that evening, those were the first words out of his mouth — and you said it back. after that, he always made to include his declarations of love in his morning notes, and they were the first and last words on his lips each time you said your helloes and goodbyes.
╰┈➤ you're there for him as he climbs the ranks in the police, and you'll never forget the look on his face when he came home with the news of finally receiving his promotion to detective. he spun you around as he placed kisses on your face, and you leaned in and kissed him with passion to show him just how proud of him you were. he took you out to celebrate that evening, and he took you to the same restaurant where you had your first date. it would go on to become your go-to place for celebrating special occasions. the following day, you went to visit his mother. tears of joy slipped from her eyes as she embraced him, and it wasn't long before she drew you into her embrace as well. it was the first time you saw something that didn't look like grief or sadness in his brother's eyes. you saw pride.
╰┈➤ he definitely wants to get married, and the two of you have talked about it, but both of you want to have a wedding when the entire family feels like they can actually celebrate. the dark cloud of grief that seems to constantly hang over in-ho's head has encouraged you both to wait a while. regardless, you two have already discussed so many of the details — the song you'd like to have for your first dance, the colour palette, the season when you'd like to have it in and where.
╰┈➤ he's incredibly observant, a trait that has helped him in both his private and professional life. he remembers the little things about you — he keeps track of the things you talk to him about, notes the ways in which your features contort when you see something you like or dislike, and goes out of his way to make your life easier in small ways.
╰┈➤ when you are both too tired to get ready and get ready for a proper date, but still want to do more than simply stay inside the whole time, he'll take you for a drive around the city. sometimes you get stuck in traffic, sometimes you get to breeze through the vibrant streets. for these dates, you have two playlists — one made up of both yours and his favourite songs, and another made up of ballads and romantic declarations weaved into music. which one you end up putting on depends on the atmosphere, but the second one tends to be the one you play when you park atop a cliff and take some time to glance at the stars.
╰┈➤ he rarely ever gets jealous, because he's confident in your relationship and he trusts you. that being said, he is incredibly protective — and he's always watching out for you. this bleeds into his affectionate nature, and the hand wrapped around your shoulder when you're out and about means two things. one, that he wants to be close to you and this is his way of expressing it. two, that he's warding off any unwanted attention and anybody who would seek to do you harm. he's a detective, so of course he's great at multi-tasking.
╰┈➤ while he mostly saves flowers for special occasions, he goes out of his way to get you baked goods when he's on his way back from work. you remarked once on how the pastries he brought you from the bakery near his station reminded you of something you ate regularly in your childhood, and he was nothing if not attentive. he didn't always bring home the same stuff — but he kept track of which treats you were craving the most and acted accordingly.
╰┈➤ if you get caught out in the rain, he's the type of guy who will keep his jacket above your head to try and keep you from getting drenched by the rainfall — or at the very least drape it around you, if you're wearing something that becomes see-through when it comes into contact with water. his focus is on your comfort in those moments.
╰┈➤ he finally proposed to you on your three-year anniversary, at the same restaurant where the two of you had your first date. while marriage was something you discussed, he still managed to surprise you with the proposal, and you agreed with tears welling in your eyes and your heart thumping nearly out of your chest. one of the first people you called was his mother, and you made sure to send the colleague that slipped you jun-ho's number a baskets of flowers and baked goods. he left a good portion of the planning to you, as busy as he is with his job, but he always offered his opinion and showed you that he cared immensely when you'd ask him for it.
╰┈➤ a couple of months after you announced your engagement, and with preparations underway — his brother disappeared. this wasn't the first time of course, but it was only the second time he didn't leave a message or let anyone know of his whereabouts. the last time this happened, his pregnant wife passed away, so naturally you, jun-ho and his mother were all worried. a couple of days into his brother's disappearance, your fiancee called to tell you that he was following a lead on his brother's disappearance — something with slip of cardboard with weird symbols and some man his colleagues perceived as crazy. after that, you couldn't get hold of him.
╰┈➤ when he did resurface, a couple of weeks later, he turned up bloodied and with a bullet in his shoulder on some old sea captain's boat. you looked after him then, tending to his wound and making sure that it didn't get infected, redressing it, and helping him with mundane tasks he struggled with now that his shoulder was injured. he was eerily secretive about it at first, and all you knew was the tidbits you managed to get from his coworkers — about some strange island and some sickening freaks making indebted people play children's games and then killing them for sport. you were confused, but you didn't press him until he was ready to talk to you about it.
╰┈➤ in the dark of the night, as he was leaning on the bathroom sink and you were pressing cold ice against the torn and injured flesh left by an unknown man's gun, he started talking to you about it. about following the strange man into a limousine where they doused all the passengers with some sleeping agent, about sneaking onto a ship and strangling one of the workers there, consequently tossing his body into the depths of the vast sea. as he spoke about all the death he witnessed, about the man with one kidney the workers cut up and whose organs they trafficked, about the sickening rich man who attempted to force himself onto him and about escaping the island, only to be tracked down as he attempted to send the proof he'd gathered and was met with horrendous cell signal and a masked man's gun. he didn't tell you about his brother, couldn't condemn him in such a way. that was the only part he kept to himself.
╰┈➤ your habit of staying up together in the night became more frequent than it had ever been. when he did sleep, he was always mumbling something about in-ho and the lines on his forehead and the manner in which he was squeezing his eyes made him look nearly as if he was in pain. you would coax him back from the turmoil he was re-experiencing in his sleep and into reality. neither of you went back to sleep on nights like those, and his grasp on you was so firm as if he was afraid you might disappear if he attempted to loosen it.
╰┈➤ he'd quit his job and went back to handling traffic then, and you understood he needed his time to grieve — a reprieve from death and the most distorted cases that hit the station's desk. you got married soon after, as the realisation that life was far too short to worry about semantics settled in his bones, and the fear of losing him intensified in you after what he'd gone through. you still kept the most important parts of what you'd planned out - the song for your first dance, the place where you wanted to celebrate, the people you wanted in roles of honour. it was a small and private affair, witnessed only by those the two of you felt were most deserving and close. you hoped to hold another celebration once in-ho returned, if he ever did — your husband already knew that he would not.
╰┈➤ once he starts working with gi-hun, he fills you in on what they're doing. he doesn't want you to worry, he couldn't put you through what you experienced back when you didn't know if he was dead or alive. you demand that they let you in, that they allow you to help them look for the man in the black mask. you couldn't stomach the thought of him setting off with you again, to do something so perilous and frightening. he's hesitant at first, and refuses to even consider the idea. upon realising that you don't intend to give up, and that you'll join him for it whether he likes it or not — he relents, but demands you don't put yourself in harm's way.
╰┈➤ on the night of halloween, as you all set out to find whoever is behind the black mask of the games' frontman, you head off with gi-hun. jun-ho worries about letting you go, but he still has faith in his brother not causing you any harm. he doesn't expect you to end up in the limo with gi-hun, as they take him back to the island for another week of twisted, death games.
a/n : thank you so much for reading this! if you find any inaccuracies with the show itself or with korean culture, please go out of your way to let me know how I may improve upon them and fix my mistakes 🙏🙏 I'm grateful to you for taking the time to read this fic, this is actually the first time I managed to finish a fic in a day (as opposed to my regular routine of taking a whole week to wrap up one set of headcanons). as always, I'm tagging other characters to increase my outreach, but the characters I'm tagging are only the ones I also write for — in case you want to request anything for them.
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