#what if i killed myself? haha just kidding.. unless?

[thedeathofmin]

i am very sick and need an outlet to shitpost my life away, welcome to the hell that is myself

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

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

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

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

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

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

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

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

➸ masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

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

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

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

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for no flirting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Bros.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly. 

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He feels like throwing up. 

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

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

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

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

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

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

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think about fucking you all the time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

10:34am you: do it then

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

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

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

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

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

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

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

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

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

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

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

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

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

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—” He stops himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

[the end]

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

➸ masterlist

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@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

[petew21-blog]

Sexy revenge

I died serving my country as a mercenary all my life since I was left the school. Some might say that I did it only for money and they would be right. I did. It pass good. But I was freaking good at my job. I was a pro. And that's why they always called me back. Why I asked for more and more money and the government always provided. Cause they knew I would succeed.

But once, I wasn't the one picking my team. I always do background checks on them. But this one time I was assigned soldiers I knew but wasn't comfortable working with. Especially this one guy who would kill himself just cause his captain said so. The most loyal one I knew. I knew he despised me for the mercenary job. He did it for country, I did it for money. A loyal dog he was, I called him Rex just to mess with him. He clearly didn't like it. And to be honest, I really don't remember his name.

We were on a mission, the goal was clear. Secure the target, eliminate and get enough evidence and leave immediately.

It went smoothly. But as we found the guy, bombs around. Our squad was separated and I was left with Rex alone. We decided to find the evidence and leave. We were ambushed by a group of our enemies. Thanks to me, we managed to eliminate them all, including the target. But our team was still under fire from the roof. We sneaked up there. Rex was covering me and I eliminated the guy and saved my squad. And suddenly a shot went through my chest. I turned around painfully, just to see Rex holding our enemies weapon after firing.

"Nothing perosnal, orders are orders. You were a pain in the ass of our government. Always wanting more money, making your own rules. They know you're good, but so am I. This way, I'll get medals for saving our guys up here. While you will die here. That's where money gets you." and then he shot me in the head

And that's the last thing I remember. My body was transported back to the States. I somehow felt my prevence around it. The more time passed the more I could see the world around me. I become a ghost. I knew exactly why I didn't pass on. My unfinished bussiness was the one who shot me in the head. But how was I suppose to finish the bussiness now since I was a ghost.

Time went by. My body rotted in the ground. I was just roaming the world without no goal. But one day, I saw a ceremonial in the TV on the street. Rex was recieving a medal just as he said. "That fucker". The anger fuelled me. Revenge is the thing that let's me move on.

"I have to get to him somehow. But he is now protected. Hidden in the army. And I am still a ghost that only now knows how to make lights flicker and slightly move objects. Unless I scare him to death I won't get my revenge. I have to get a body."

The first person I tried on was a homeless person on the street. He was high on fentanyl. That made it easier for me cause he didn't fight. But staying in a body that's this high is really hard. I left his body and tried on some kid in a park and succeeded. Ok, next level. A teenager.

My luck was really great today. I picked one who was a pickpocket and was followed by a police officer. So much running after being dead and the possession made it hard for me to run from him. And I got caught. Whiel we were writing on the red light. Me, still in the teens body, I now focused myself on the police officer on the passengers seat. He was asleep, probably from his night shift, maybe that will make it easier for me.

I concentrated and then my soul just moved a bit to the front. Being accepted in the adult body. He did put up a fight even though He was sleep, but I won.

I opened my eyes. My 'colleague' was looking at me and just laughed. "Bad dreams?"

"What?" my deep voice left my throat. What a manly body I picked.

"You were sharing man. You dreamed of some chick atleast?"

"Haha, yeah that's right" I chuckled and then pretended to sleep again to not let him question me again.

I left the teen thief with my colleague and went to the lockers to change and end my shift

Taking off the uniform I found out that the police officer, Adrian Jackson, I now possesed, had bunch of tatoos, hairy chest, muscular body and satisfactory dick. Mine was better. But this one is young. Might be nice to enjoy the young fertility again

I went to the mirror to get a good look at myself

"Ooooooh, look at those GUNS!" I flexed to see what I was now working with.

"This body is really nice. If I get my revenge I could stay being you, Adrian."

Tapping into Adrians mind I found out what his adress was. And what any man, not only gay ones, would do in this situations? That's right. I went to explore my new body in the shower. Feeling the hot water running down was erotic itself. I missed having feelings.

As I was drying off my hairy dick that just shot cum on the shower wall, I knew there was something missing

I found the clothes in his closet that were slightly resembling the ones I used to wear. What was now reflecting at me in the mirror was a young, hot reflection of an adult man, very similar to me as when I was starting my mercenary career.

I took a very revealing photo for later. Don't worry, I have to give this body a nice ride. And FUCK how I wanna ride someone. Whoever it is. Man, woman, anyone.

My plans are about to proceed. I have a body I need to take revenge on Rex. Another step? Leaving Adrian's job as a cop. Becoming a mercenary again. Getting a haircut and get as close to REX as possible.

Surely he will be tempted to take down another mercenary that is just like me before.

Revenge is so sexy if you ask me

Story request from inbox: You can make a story about an old mercenary possessing a handsome young cop, and turning him into a new mercenary.

[chaosheadspace]

wip meme: Subvocals? subvocals sounds so interesting pls say more

Okay, subvocalisation is a term first coined by fanfic author Did (someone correct me if I'm wrong) for Omegaverse. It's involuntary / hard to repress sounds that express simple things like "back off / come here / I'm scared / I want you / where is my alpha / you're in serious danger of being bitten rn" stuff like that.

So this would be a Dreamling fic where everyone is part of the Omegaverse system, even the Endless. Due to his eldritch shenanigans, Dream's subvocals are in a pitch no living being can hear, so he just goes ham / he never learned how to maybe tone it down.

Cue Hob who's hearing is a little fucked. One day, while out with his friends, starts hearing those weird noises. You know where this is going, haha. Dream being called out on his bullshit by his own body, naturally.

Snippet under the cut, possibly OOC. (also, I'm not italicising all the *, I'm on mobile, I won't do that to myself)

Hob just smiles gently as his friends laugh about another story Alrin is telling, imitating the purrs and trills of his latest Omega conquest. Hob's had trouble hearing ever since he was kicked by a horse as a kid. He can't even hear his *own* subvocals, just feel the vibrations of them in his chest whenever they happen. Funnily enough, he's also grown up to really like horses. But his friends and their jokes are still a mystery to him.

So when he suddenly hears a small, discontent mewl through the din of the white horse tavern, so *clear* through all the ruckus, he doesn't even know what it is, at first. Just that it tugs at his heartstrings rather severely.

*Alone. Miserable. Hurt. Go away. Hello? No. Bad smell. Alone. Alone. Hurt. No. Don't touch. Go away.*

It's a string of sounds just a hair's breadth away from thoroughly distressed and Hob feels his chest rumble. *Hello. Hello? No threat. Here. Here. Come? I will protect. Hello?*

It's impossible to make out a specific smell here in the tavern, but Hob's eyes search frantically until they land on the most defiant man Hob has ever seen. His posture communicates that he clearly wants to be anywhere but here, his cheekbones say 'I will cut you', and his eyes say 'don't you dare'.

And the sweet, high notes coming from his throat sing *alone alone alone, please, no, help me*.

Sharp blue eyes find his and say 'do not dare. If you dare, I will kill you'. His song beckons Hob closer. Hob stands, barely registering the questioning looks from his friends, and goes to him as if drawn on a string. The high notes of the plea shift and lap over the purr in his own chest.

The stranger is silent. Hob takes a good look into his eyes, cutting himself up with masochistic joy, before saying, "I won't, you know. Die, that is. Unless you plan on killing me yourself."

The stranger tips his head, looks at Hob as if studying a mildly interesting bug and Hob knows, deep inside himself, that he could. He's fine as marble, possibly as strong, too. Hob takes a surprised breath and that's when he knows for sure that this man is not like any other he has met. He's got no smell, a weird absence of one, like fresh wind, like a torn-down forgotten memory.

And still, his body sings to Hob, sings *for* him, now a litany of *alone, alone, will you come, are you, do you, will you hold me, please, please, I'm so alone all the time*.

[senjuushi]

Valentine’s Day 2024 Lines — Antiques

Enfield

Friend Chocolate: Thank you very much! The truth is, I’ve been writing a poem to show my thanks... I’ll be ready to unveil it by next year, I believe. Yes, indeed! 

Dear Chocolate: “The shining beams of daybreak’s sun // The flowers blooming full // Let’s pick one for our love, you and I, // and from dawn to dusk, give thanks for this fleeting life.”

Snider

Friend Chocolate: ...I don’t want that. I won’t accept anything from you unless it’s special. 

Dear Chocolate: You know I don’t eat sweet things, don’t you? Tch... fine, then. You can eat it. And I’ll watch you finish every bite.

George

Friend Chocolate: Wow! This chocolate is so cute!☆ I can tell you put a lot of joy into making it. Thank you~♥

Dear Chocolate: Whoah... this is too good to eat. Oh, I know! Let’s take a picture of the two of us next to the chocolate! It can last forever that way!☆

Kentucky

Friend Chocolate: Oh, this friend chocolate’s super cute! Thanks! Ha, haha... huh, no, I’m not crying! Just tearin’ up a bit from joy! 

Dear Chocolate: Th-This, this i-is... Master, from today on, I’ll be goin’ around actin’ like I’m your favorite, y’know. Is that okay? 

Pennsylvania

Friend Chocolate: Oh... what a coincidence. I was just thinking I wanted somethin’ sweet to eat. Thank you kindly for the gift. 

Dear Chocolate: That looks delicious... thank you. To show my gratitude... hm, a hug wouldn’t be enough. If something sounds good, could’ya tell me...?

Charleville

Friend Chocolate: Wow, what a cute chocolate lollipop! Merci, Master.♥ And here, chocolate-covered dried fruits, from me.♪

Dear Chocolate: Wow, amazing! ...mm! This is the tastiest dessert I’ve ever eaten! Will you make it next year too? And the year after that? 

Chassepot

Friend Chocolate: F-Friend chocolate... I see I haven’t done enough to convey my feelings to you... Well, thank you. What a lovely gift... 

Dear Chocolate: Master... I was hoping for this. Getting something so special from you...! Ahh, the whole world seems brighter now! 

Tabatiere

Friend Chocolate: Haha, what lovely chocolate. I’m usually the one thanking you anyway, but... thank you, really. I’m sure it’ll be delicious. 

Dear Chocolate: I get Master-chan’s homemade chocolate all to myself? Haha... you sure this isn’t some kind of mistake? This much happiness might kill me, you know... 

Dreyse

Friend Chocolate: Thank you. However... this sort of snack seems rather childish. Wouldn’t I look strange eating it...? 

Dear Chocolate: What a wonderful gift...! I hardly know how to express my joy... perhaps a lap around the school with you on my shoulders! 

Jitte

Friend Chocolate: Oh, thanks for the lovely gift. Mhmm, a bit of chocolate right now sounds awfully sweet!

Dear Chocolate: Even with so many options... you’re really choosing me? Oh, dear... this is supposed to be romantic, but I’m starting to tear up. 

Karl

Friend Chocolate: Oh, chocolate. Thank you. If Margarita were here, this would certainly be a merry day... 

Dear Chocolate: Ah— thank goodness. I’d forbidden myself chocolate for the last month in hopes of a gift from you. What a blessing this is... I’ll enjoy it! 

Lorenz

Friend Chocolate: My thanks, Test Subject #2. You didn’t forget to prepare some for Karl-sama as well, correct? Make sure his is the best of the bunch.

Dear Chocolate: I had predicted this occurence, and yet... now that it’s happening, why is my heart in such a frenzy!? Do you know the answer, Test Subject #2...!?

Cutlery

Friend Chocolate: You’re giving me friend chocolate? Thanks. Some chocolate from Charlotte came in too. I’m happy to get so much...! 

Dear Chocolate: Huh... this is for me!? You’re kidding... I can’t believe it. Getting something like this, I’m amazed... *sob*...!

[hylianengineer]

im sososo normal about your OC i am not scratching at the walls of my enclosure because i ran out of Owen&Cate fics to read. haha.

perhaps.... you would consider... posting more??? 👀

haha just kidding... unless?

(only if you want to!!! not trying to pressure you at all!!! i just. i know you already have more written so if you're waiting for someone to tell you how much they love them and encourage you to post more. this is that. huge cate and owen fan over here!!)

This is the best possible ask any writer could ever recieve and I am SO HAPPY that my bizarre little characters have resonated with you! The fact that someone besides me cares about a person I made up is so so weird and awesome!

I promise I will post more fic for you as soon as Real Life calms down and I have time for such things, hopefully tomorrow. Although I should probably warn you, a lot of what I have written about these two is not as fluffy as what's been posted so far - I do write dark stuff sometimes, but it will all be tagged accordingly of course.

To tide your over, a hint of what's to come: I have an entire AU whose premise is these characters meeting much sooner in their lives, as university students, and proceeding to become found family about it. Torchwood comes into the picture eventually, and so does Katie Russel - who also joins the found family and doesn't die like in canon (or at all. I hate killing characters and I'm too fond of her now). It's a weird polycule thing in which Owen and Katie are romantically in love and then everyone else is platonically/queerplatonically in a relationship with each other. It's kinda messy timeline wise but frankly I'm about to say fuck timelines and post chunks of it anyways.

Yes I did in fact get myself into a situation where there are two main characters named Cate and Katie, yes I regret this, but no there is nothing I can do about it now. It was very unintentional, as I never intended to write about Katie Russel - she just waltzed into my story and decided to stay. And the OC's name could not be changed at that point - it had stuck. Hopefully this does not come across as too weird/implausible/annoying, because it's out of my control.

Yes I know I'm the author and allegedly like god to my characters but look, sometimes they just do stuff and I have to write it down and yell things like "hey! You broke my plot!" while frantically restructuring the entire story around their shenanigans.

[l0viez]

May I request a reader who feels like they're falling behind in life? I feel this profound sadness when I realize others are further along where I want to be.

I'd like Kaeya for this one (And Zhongli if you have time).

Really sorry that im late for this! i had a busy scheduleT.T!, also sorry in advance if some of my writings is abit.. confusing? or not rlly that understandable! im still a newbie at these! This was in a rush so if i have some extra time ill rewrite and make it more better^^

This can be seen as romantic or platonic!💟

🗡️Kaeya! ;

Kaeya's first and honest reaction was .. kind of mixed

He felt abit little bitsy upset for the person you always look at and compare yourself too

He felt alot of concerned and sadness , concerned because of the fact you would stop talking or just go to your own world whenever you see them

He was very saddened over the fact you look and felt miserable just because of it

the first time he knew about your situation and what you were feeling these days

He felt guilty and mad at himself because he didn't get to manage to see it more earlier

Kaeya WILL visit you daily with flowers!

Theres are no ifs or buts

you will see him at the front door waiting for you

it will become a daily thing until you finally feel better again

(unless you want him to visit u everyday🤭! just request him xox)

Kaeya will be inviting you to tavern to make you feel calm down and to distract you from you feeling upset

knowing kaeya he will still tease you but he will lower it down too make sure it doesnt say anything to tigger you

he isnt a afraid to make himself look like a fool just to distract you and make you laugh

he will even skip some of works to hang out with you to distract you from all those stress or

a little headcannon : since he got em 💵💵💸 whatever your hobbies are he will buy you the items needed for your hobbies!

Cooking? you have a whole kitchen for yourself to make foods and make your own recipes!

Singing? He will rent out a whole year room just for you to sing, it has a mic and everything

Drawing? .. yeah he would probably ask albedo for some tips on what to buy good materials LMAO

Kaeya is the type of person who would distract, make you forget about your worries, spoils you rotten, be more 10x clingy, make you laugh during your bad times❤️

Kaeya is super supportive of you and respects your decisions but sometimes he worries to much for you thats why he's always looking out for you!

He will even take you to some sceneries or areas that you havent went before and explore abit !

he just wants to express his love to you and to tell you everyday that your more than good enough and that what ever you have or got is something to cherish for and that one day you will be like someone you idolize!

he will wait for you to succeed to the things you want to be in life, he will be there at your comfort <33

he's honestly so proud of you like he would be like "yess💅🏻thats my boyyy/girll!" (hes a silly lil goofy man dont mind him) if you ever surpassed or succeed on the things you want to be or you want to succeed in

(he would even throw a celebration on it too😭‼️)

He's that hype man you didn't ask for but still (thankfully) got/jk

(he gives me that "its us againist life"/jk im unfunny like cyno im sorry)

" Oh (n/n), took you long enough, almost thought Id have to spend this night by myself.. drinking (your favorite drink) by my self... Ow! that was a hard one — hey hey! I was just kidding you didn't have to hit me that hard haha.. here come sit with me! .. what's that? you still have work to do? heh. Your staying here with ME tonight. Relaxing! The night is young, how about you relax abit? Don't worry I'll help you with your problem tomorrow! Would it really kill you if you don't work for one day? "

His first reaction was most likey confused..

Dont blame the poor old man he is still learning

Ofc he would be also half upset bout it too

Cause like.. what his DEAR IS UPSET? HE is UPSET as well😤‼️

Zhongli would be so confused because like he will catch you looking down or feeling down

he would ask you if you were alright and you would tell him you were okay

but more days went by he FINALLY gets the clue

He brought you both to a fancy expensive looking restaurant (ofc childe payed for it)

When both of you got comfortable now

He legit straightward asked on what was goin on with you for the past few days

he would give you the most OBVIOUS things and asks you the most OBVIOUS things as well (his trying his best😭💔)

(but then again, I feel like he will get it already but he will act like he wouldn't just cause "communication is the key" and he didn't want to be rude and assume on what was going on so he has to make sure of it"!)

When you confessed on what was going on and how you felt down because of it

he will also visit you everyday like kaeya's! but no flowers.. well probably a pretty rock but who knows

he will use his wallet/childe to get you both in some fancy resturants whenever you both have spare times!

Zhongli would be like your spotify premium but instead of music he is like a radio.

He will tell you stories non stop to "distract" you from feeling upset

good thing his voice is calming

so while your doing your thing he would be talking in the background

Zhongli will probably even give you his specialty dish just for u<3

zhongli will be the type of person who likes to think that making things from your heart or homemade is more special that buying

(he just dont wanna admit he has no cash to buy you gifts/jk)

just like kaeya he would maybe take a day off to spend time with you

Instead of buying you newest items you wished you had, he will give you some items they used before when he was still a archon younger!

Unlike kaeya who likes to distract you and make your worries clear off ur mind, Zhongli will instead give you some "wise" advices on what you want to get good at and be more more supportive of your decisions!<3

He understands that there's a huge difference between a human and an archon but that won't stop him from giving all his best to help you get what you think its missing from you‼️

He's that "proud father" or "proud old grandpa"

He's more layback and chill than kaeya, like he will also tell you to relax and to not overwork yourself as well

If you manage to overcome or succeed or surpassed the people that you used to look at with sadness

Zhongli will most likey to celebrate that and even invite some people from liyue!

He will even take you on a peacefully calming date while you tell him about what happened

Zhongli is willing to listen to you 24/7

he will probably request you to do your hobbies or the things you love infront of him

and he will even act dense about it (sly mf)

" Greetings (Y/n) , I have some plans for us to visit somewhere special. Ah ah. *holds your hand* don't even think about going back and overworking youself now. You don't have to rush yourself always you know? Im worried about you, you might even get a fever from thinking too much.If you ever need someone to comfort you I'll be there at your call now.. I ordered us some relaxing tea at Yanshang Teahouse, let us go and grab it shall we?

This is just a little bonus message, if you ever feel sad about people who are futher along where you want to be in. Remeber to not pressure yourself to becoming a "improved" you. to not overwork youself for it. Don't be hard on your self because sooner or later you will be on the top or be the version you wanted to be. Dont rush and try to have fun along the way and to stay safe always<3.!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Father knows best; Matt Murdock x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Okay well this was a certainly a LOOOONG wait in the making, truthfully I had almost forgotten this but after leaving the last part on such a cliff hanger I couldn’t just leave it like that. So this chapter will be broken down into two parts and this will be the FINAL update to Guardian Devil mini-series.

Warnings: murder, grooming, Kilgrave’s manipulative controlling, Matt acts a little OOC (like how he wanted to kill Kingpin in s.3 but in the end didn’t, here I believe in a case like this for the sake of my fanfic, Matt would actually WANT someone like Kilgrave dead). 

FINAL PART

Taglist:

@your-not-invisible-to-me​

@queensdivas​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queen-paladin​

@austynparksandpizza​

@gay-and-ready-to-cry​

_____________________________________________________________

*Flashback*

The sound of a struggle could be heard from an apartment along 42nd street.  It was Friday night and as always no one was home unless they were passed out drunk already from a hard week’s work.  A window was shattered as a body began falling down until it landed in a large dumpster bin.  Another body jumped out and scaled down the fire escape almost acrobatically until they landed on their feet.

The person that fell in slowly got up with a groan but not before a hand grabbed them and forced them out of the dumpster and had the man rolling along the floor after a swift kick to the gut to ensure he didn’t run. Blood covered half of his face and his left knee was at an odd angle.

“What do you want? I didn’t do anything to you.” The man groaned in Japanese.

“The Kingpin says you’re a loose end. And loose ends need tying up.” At the mention of the Kingpin’s name the man reach into his pocket but with a clean throw of the baton, the sound of his finger bones cracking rang out as he let out a cry of pain.

“Wait. Help me! I can pay you twice what he’s giving you. Weapons, drugs, anything!” he pleaded.

“What I want, you can’t give me.” She replied in English as she took back her baton and stood over the Japanese man.  She raised the baton and with a hard swing, the sound of his skull cracking sounded off as he lay there dead.

*My POV*

Two victims in just under a month and with 4 months of training by some of The Hands’ personal best made me ready for these types of missions. But killing these guys gave me no pleasure, Kingpin says this is only practice, well I’m done with practicing.  I want him. I need the man who killed my mother!

“Alright! Yes!” I heard a man’s voice say as clapping was heard. My eyes widened and I quickly turned to see a man in a deep purple suit standing at the entrance of the alleyway with two gorgeous women at his side as they too applauded.  “That was absolutely tremendous! I thought I was good haha! You are a sight to behold. Wasn’t she amazing?” he asked the two women who nodded. “You bore me, leave.” And they did as he asked.

Shit! Kingpin said no witnesses, I reached for my shuriken but he told me.

“I’d keep put both hands at your sides where I can see them.” Suddenly I felt my arms go at my sides and they felt like lead as I couldn’t move them.  “If you’re worried about me turning you into the police, don’t worry. To be honest one less of them yakuza rats to worry about. I’m cool.”

“Yeah you’re cool.” I found myself saying.  He gave a slight tilt of his head before he said.

“Come here and take that mask off so I can see your face.” Again against my own will, I felt my hands reach for my Bobcat mask and removed it as I walked closer to the man.

He appeared to be around Matt and Foggy’s age, maybe even a bit older.  He had dark brown hair, a five o’clock stubble, and his eyes a dark, empty brown.

“Jesus you’re just a kid. A kid willing to do that much damage to a man twice her size. I can see it in your eyes.” He cupped my chin and had me look up at him.  “Ohhh yes. I know those eyes anywhere. Rage, vengeance. Just like me at your age. Tell me how old are you?”

“16.”

“16. Yes the prime age for a young woman but here you are. Kicking ass and taking names.” The smile that spread across his face sent a shiver of fear up my spine as his empty eyes shined a slimmer of a crazed, psychotic look.  “Tell me this, did you enjoy killing that man?” he asked as he finally let go of my chin.

“Yes.” I responded coldly.

“Hmm-mm, why’s that?”

“Because it gets me closer to my goal.” I replied. “Avenging my mother.” His eyes slightly widened as he was gobsmacked at my statement before he said.

“Well…..so sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”

“Bobcat.”

“No, no, no not your superhero name, your real name.” I hesitated until my name suddenly rolled off my tongue.

“(Y/n) Perry.”

“Perry? Well…..no wonder why you looked so familiar. You are practically a resemblance of her.”

“You knew my mother?” I asked as my heart skipped a beat.

“It seems we have a lot to talk about. There’s a good Thai restaurant around the corner, join me for supper.” He extended his hand out to me. I stood there in my spot looking between him and his hand. “Come on.” He softly ordered and soon I walked up to him but just before I could take his hand, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and guided me down the dark streets of Hell’s kitchen.

When we got to the restaurant, he ordered all the costumers to leave and told the workers to bring out everything they had and to not question my attire.  I ate the last of my fried rice before sipping my water.

“Yep. Nothing like a nice meal after performing feats of vengeance.” He said to me.

“How do you know my mother?”

“Oh wow straight to business, okay fine. Guess I’ve kept you in suspense long enough.” He cupped the side of my face. “God you really do look so much like her when we first met. Same eyes, same mouth, even your skin feels like hers.” I got uncomfortable hearing that part.  “Been 16 years late to say this but, (Y/n) Perry….the name’s Kilgrave, I’m your father.”

My heart stopped, my eyes widened and my head was swirling.

I quickly stood up but he ordered me.,

“Sit back down.” Immediately I sat back down and even scooted my chair back into the table, my eyes never once leaving him.  “I know this is all a bit of a shock, believe me how do you think I feel? But it’s true.”

“How do you know? Any man could claim they’re my dad.”

“True. Most men could, but they can’t say they’ve got official records, can they?” he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his purple jacket and slid it over to me.  “Go on, take it.” I took the paper and unfolded it to reveal what looked like an official copy of my birth certificate.

Now I have seen the copy my mom had but for some reason she had the name of the father blacked out.  When I was younger, I did ask about my father but she always refused to tell me about him until one day she told me that he left us with nothing and wanted nothing to do with us.

But this certificate didn’t have my father’s name blacked out and there I saw his name. Kevin Thompson.

“Kevin Thompson is my legal name but I’ve longed forbidden anyone from calling me that.” He told me.

“It could’ve been forged. I have friends who could do this and make it legal.”

“You’re a smart girl, I’ll give your mother that much for not raising an idiot.” I narrowed my eyes and softly growled. “Stop that.” He ordered me as he then took out another piece of paper.  “This here is an authentic, 100% guarantee DNA test. Performed by the Hell’s Kitchen ancestry agency. Don’t ask how I got yours just know I have my ways.” He handed me the paper which I took and opened it up.

According to the Ancestry and Family Bonds society of Hell’s Kitchen, the tests show that (Y/n) Perry and Kevin Thompson, provided DNA hair samples, are 99.998% a match.

I was in shock.  I leaned against the chair dropping the paper to the ground as I said solemnly.

“She lied to me.” Kilgrave, who had gotten up and got himself some liquor from the back and poured himself a drink.  “She told me that you abandoned us.”

“Not to speak ill of the dead, but your mother has been lying to you ever since she stole you away from me when she was pregnant with you.”

“Why would she do that?” I asked.

“Because she somehow believed that I would hurt the two of you. Listen to me (Y/n), hey,” he leaned forward cupping my face in his hands. “Your mother, through whatever delusion she thought, I never once hurt her. I loved her. I cared so much for her, I gave her the world. But then she—packed up and left me. And when she found out she was pregnant with you, she did everything in her legal power to keep me away from you.”

“You loved her?”

“She was the Éowyn to my Faramir. Both of us being kept back by society or mistreated by our families. I tried….everything in my power to see you but……but then I heard what happened to her.” Tears formed in my eyes as I tried to look away.  “Ohh darling.” He wiped the tears hidden at the corner of my eyes as he gingerly shushed me.  “I cannot imagine what was going through your head the day she was found. What your heart was feeling.”

“I was lost……broken……but mostly I was angry. I’m still angry. I wanna kill him. I wanna tear him apart. To make him feel every ounce of hurt he made me feel.” I first said solemnly before my sorrow turned to hate.  

“And you believe this Wilson Fisk can give it to you?” he asked me.

“He promised me.”

“The way I see it. He can get you part of the way there. You may find the guy who did it, but you won’t get him to confess. He’ll deny it until he either dies without admitting it, or not share every last little thing he did to your mother. Things that only the killer himself knows.” I looked at him perplexed.

“You can teach me to do that?” he smiled softly and stroked a strand of hair out of my face.

“Isn’t that what all fathers do for their children? Help them achieve their goals.” He stood up and extended his hand out to me.  I took it and he helped me stand up as I asked him how he could help me.  “You can start, by getting rid of that.” He pointed to my neck.

I reached and touched the chain but clenched it in my hand refusing to let it go.  It was my mother’s Evanstar necklace, I had taken it just before they buried her (Mahoney allowed me to take it after they recovered her remains instead of it being put into evidence).

“C’mon (Y/n). you need to let it go.” My hands reached back and I unclasped the lock and removed the necklace which showed the Evanstar pendant shining at me from the light.  My father held out his hand and I set the necklace down in his palm before he put it away in his pocket.  “That’s my girl. Now c’mere and give your father a hug like you mean it.” I ran into his arms and squeezed him as tight as I could.  “I’m here now (Y/n). I’ll always be here.” He said to me as he embraced me just as tightly.

Soon I found myself being trained by my father in the act of ‘verbal persuasion’ or so he called it.  It’s basically what he can do (after sharing with me the gruesome backstory of what his parents, my grandparents) did to him.

I tried my best but nothing I said to any of the volunteers he had set up for me followed my directions.  And it would only be a matter of time before Fisk suddenly came back into the picture.  When he had sent the cops he had under his thumb into father’s house, he ordered me to run and forget everything about our meeting but that he’d find me again soon when the time was right.

After fleeing from the house, I soon forgot just why I was running, the cops took me back to Fisk, I got a stern talking to but he sent me back out into the world.  And of course you know the rest from there.

*End of flashback*

It was pitch black outside by the time we reached the cabin. Well when I say cabin it looked more like a castle.  Multi-level (2-3 levels), clear glass windows, a grand balcony on the second floor that spread pretty much across the entire house, and a stone chimney and stone pillars that held it up from the floor to the grand balcony.

Father turned the car off and said.

“We’re here.” I looked at the cabin mansion and he asked me, “Too much? It is too much isn’t it.”

“No, no I—it’s lovely I just…..”

“Just what?”

“Will they find us? They’ll be looking for me. I-I shouldn’t have left.”

“Now, now relax, hey look at me.” He cupped my chin and forced me to look him in the eye.  “They won’t find us. In fact they’ve forgotten all about your case. Remember what I told you I can do, what we can do.” My breath was shaky as I exhaled but nodded.  “Let me hear you say it, it’s all taken care of.”

“It’s all taken care of.” I repeated.

“That’s my girl.” He then got out of the car and I followed behind him.  As we rounded toward the cabin, I felt his arm wrap around my shoulders bringing me closer to him as we walked inside together.

Inside it was even grander than I could imagine.  It was like living in a castle with all the expensive vases scattered around, the paintings and marble statues that looked like they belonged in a museum.  A large staircase stood at the center of the living room.

“(Y/n) Perry, my pride and joy, I’d like to welcome you to your new home.” Said Father as he gestured to the manor.  I looked around in awe as I walked along the grand living room.

“All of this is—”

“It’s all ours. Nothing’s too good for my girl, right? And speaking of, Ivy!” soon a woman in her mid-50’s maybe even early 60’s with short grey hair came out from the back hallway and she said.

“Yes sir?” her accent was thick, possibly she could’ve been from Ukraine or Russia.

“Take my daughter upstairs to her new room and have her change clothes. Make sure to burn this atrocious jumpsuit the pigs forced on her.” He said as he came up to me placing his hand on my shoulder and giving it a rub as well as a squeeze.

“Yes sir.” He looked down at me and I up at him.

“I expect to see you for dinner in 10 minutes.”

“Yes father.” I said as I walked towards Ivy and she lead me up the stairs and into my room.

My new room was twice as big than any of the apartment rooms I’ve had in the past.  A large king sized bed, a large wooden wardrobe (that almost looked like it came from Narnia), some bookshelves with all my favorite books and authors, as well as some Tolkien collections like Bilbo’s party sign, the flag of Rohan hanging just over my bed, and some of my favorite character posters like Aragorn’s movie poster holding Andúril in front of him, Éowyn stabbing the Witch King of Angmar, and Merry and Pippin riding on Treebeard.

“Come Ms. Kilgrave, we best get you ready.” We walked in and I removed the orange jumpsuit as well as the white t-shirt and shorts I had also been given to wear.  Ivy collected the prison clothes and wound them up into a ball to be burned just as father had commanded.  She then went into the wardrobe and got out a beautiful red blouse with black leggings and black flats.  “Your father wishes for you to look presentable at dinner.”

“Do you work for my father willingly? Or did he order you to do this?” I asked her.

“Your father has done me better than my previous job. Same with the rest of employees here. I was about to be evicted from my home and have my son taken away by Child Services because of our financial situation. Your father is a good man who just wants to help you, and I’d do anything to help him achieve that. From a mother to a father.”

I nodded and got on the clothes she had picked out and then she had me sit before a large mirror that almost looked to be silver and she began to brush my hair of the tangles and knots from my lack of sleep and stress I had been through the past few days.

Once I looked more presentable, she lead me back downstairs to a grand dining area with a large, long table and a roaring fireplace to the right of the table.

“Cutting it kinda of close aren’t we Ivy?” father said looking down at his phone before glancing back up at her.

“Sorry sir, it took a while to get her hair brushed and braided.”

“Are you criticizing my daughter?”

“No! No sir absolutely not!” she said worriedly.

“Leave us now.” He said.  She nodded before immediately walking away.  “C’mon, don’t be shy darling, come here so I can have a better look at you.” He said turning his chair toward me.  I walked towards him and when I got close enough, he took my hand and moaned softly. “Now that’s much better, don’t you feel better without those horrid prison scrubs on?”

“Yes.”

“Take a seat, eat. Armani is serving up your favorite Italian dish.” Father said as I sat down beside him.  Soon the chef Armani came out wheeling our food out on silver platters on a large tray.  He set the platters down before us then removed the lids to reveal a beautifully made fettuccini alfredo with some breadsticks.

It smelled incredible and it made my mouth almost water. I reached out for the breadsticks first and took a single bite of them and immediately I fell into the pleasure of just how warm and soft this bread was.  Within seconds the breadstick was gone and I went over to the alfredo.

“Someone was clearly hungry, just what is it they serve you in prison?”

“School food is worse.” Father softly laughed and said.

“I’ll bet it is. But no more of that now, just full on 5 star meals three times a day. Like I said, nothing’s too good for my best girl.” He reached out and stroked the back of my head.  I paused my eating and felt my stomach turn in knots.  “What’s wrong? Is it not prepared right? I swear if you end up sick, I’ll have Armani cut off each of his fingers one by one!” he threatened angrily.

“No, no the food’s wonderful father. The finest I’ve ever had, it’s just…..”

“Just what?” I looked away from him nervously.  “Just what? Look at me and tell me (Y/n).” I looked up at him and said.

“What if the Kingpin stops us like last time? Or the police who aren’t under his thumb find us?”

“I told you darling, no one is going to find us. They’ve forgotten all about this case, now you just need to forget about it. Forget about what they’ve told you, who was involved, everything.”

“Even Jessica Jones?”

“Especially Jessica Jones.” I trailed off thinking about Uncle Matt, Uncle Foggy and Aunt Karen.

“And my family?”

“Your family?” father questioned.

“Aunt Karen, Uncle Foggy and…..and uncle Matt. They were all involved with the case, do I have to forget about them too?”

“Yes. You don’t know those people anymore, they aren’t your family.”

“But—”

“Don’t!” he snapped angrily but caught himself and exhaled sharply.  “The only family you have is me. Okay (Y/n)? There’s no Karen you know, no Foggy, what the hell kind of name is that anyways by the way? And above all else, there is no Matt Murdock you know. Do you understand?”

“Yes father.”

“Let me hear you say it.”

“There is no Karen Page, no Foggy Nelson, and no Matt Murdock that I know.” Father’s hands cupped the sides of my face and he said.

“That’s my good girl. I’m proud of you.” He pressed his forehead against mine and I felt his strength pour into me as my mind went blank from any memories I had of those three names until there was nothing left of them.

*3rd Person POV*

In Matt’s apartment, he was pacing back and forth in a panicked manner while Foggy and Karen sat on his couch and Jessica Jones was leaning up against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest.

“This can’t be happening. First Kingpin and now Kilgrave? I can’t even imagine who is worse to have her.” Karen said.

“I may not know Kingpin as personally as you guys but if I had to put my money somewhere, I’d prefer the kid be with him than with that manipulative son of a bitch.” Jessica said.

“But why? Why does he want her? At least Fisk had a reason even for as terrible of a reason it was, but how does Kilgrave fit into all of this?” Foggy asked.

“He’s right this doesn’t make any sense. What use could he have for (Y/n)?” Karen said.

“Think I found the reason.” Jessica said.  “See I’ve been doing some digging into your kid’s mom, your former partner. Did any of you ever hear her speak of (Y/n)’s father?”

“No. She never liked to talk about it.” Foggy said.

“Yeah. One girl’s night we went out for drinks and I got curious about it and asked her but she kept trying to change the subject. She even got defensive about it telling me to drop—wait. Jessica you’re not saying……” Karen started off, then her investigative brain began to piece together where Jessica was going with it.

“What? What is it Karen?”

“Perhaps I better take over from here. So like I said, I did some digging into your partner’s past. Birthplace, credit card info, any property she’s bought or rented, everything and Murdock will you stop pacing like that?! You’re literally gonna fall through the way you’re stomping around like an elephant.”

“Stop? How can I stop when (Y/n) is out there being held hostage by someone even worse than Wilson Fisk!? Jones you promised me you’d keep an eye on her. You said you’d keep her safe!”

“And I did…..”

“Then where is she!?” Matt exclaimed frantically. “Because she’s not with Mahoney nor are you with her!? A prison riot allowed a man who has the ability to manipulate one’s mind and actions to his own will, come in and kidnap her! And the police can’t look for her because they were ordered not to! Those were your words right?”

“Look Murdock, I don’t like this anymore than you do. But pacing there festering in your pity anger and pointing the blame at me won’t help us find her quicker.”

“She’s right Matt. You hadn’t slept all night nor any time since this whole case opened up against (Y/n).” Foggy said.  Matt exhaled sharply but trudged over to his chair and sat down in a huff.

“Talk Jones.”

“You’re lucky I’m letting the attitude slide this one time.”

“Talk!”

“Matt, easy. Go on Jessica.” Karen first eased Matt before turning back to Jessica.  Jessica pulled out some files from her bag and pulled out some DNA test results, pictures of Kilgrave from over 17 years ago, and (Y/n)’s birth certificate.

“Seems your former partner had some secrets she didn’t want let out. Kilgrave is (Y/n)’s birth father.”

The three of them turned to Jessica in shock.

“Paternity and DNA tests were used by Kilgrave himself, don’t ask me how he managed to get a hold of hers you honestly don’t want to know. That creep always finds a way. But these documents of a restraining order against Kilgrave for one (M/n) Perry around the time when she would be pregnant with (Y/n) sealed it for me. I even managed to get a hold of some of the medical staff that helped deliver (Y/n). They told me how Kilgrave even showed up at the delivery to try and take (Y/n) away from her. But thanks to the approved restraining order, they immediately called the cops. Of course the bastard told them to shoot themselves before he could be taken away. That’s when SWAT was called and the hospital was forced to be on lockdown.”

“Oh Jesus.” Foggy muttered shaking his head solemnly.  He couldn’t even begin to imagine the horror his deceased best friend had to go through in order to deliver (Y/n).

“How did they finally get him to leave if he can make anyone do what he wants?”

“Tranquilizer darts. If you ask me, they should’ve put a bullet through his head though. But of course the weasel wormed his way out of trial but then he never went after them again. Until a year and a half ago I took this picture of him with (Y/n).” she placed down a photo of the two of them at the Thai food restaurant.  Karen picked up the picture and she said.

“This was taken around the time she was missing. When she was training with Fisk.”

“Seems the kid’s double dipped. Because she ended up staying with father-dearest for a good 2 months before your boy Fisk got her back.” Matt stood up and grabbed his cane and headed towards the door.

“Where the hell are you going?” Jessica snapped but Matt didn’t respond, the only response he did give was the loud slam of his front door.

He walked out before hailing down a taxi and told the driver to go to the Hell’s Kitchen cemetery.  The driver drove through the traffic, all the while Matt’s leg wouldn’t stop bouncing as so many thoughts were going through his head.

“You want me to help you find the tombstone you’re looking for sir?” asked the cab driver.

“Thanks for the offer but I got it. I—know her tombstone by touch.” After a few more minutes of weaving in and out of traffic, the cab driver soon arrived at the cemetery and Matt paid the cab driver his amount before getting out and walking forward.

Using his sense of touch he touched each and every grave stone (even though he remembered exactly where she was buried, but for the sake of those who were there, he kept up the facade).  Until he finally felt the tombstone of the one he had been searching for. His former partner’s and best friend’s (M/n) Perry.

He fell to his knees before her tombstone as tears formed behind his red shades.  His lip trembled as he said.

“I failed you.” He shook his head in regret.  “You asked me to watch over her, and I—I failed you. I’m sorry (M/n). I know you had your reasons for not telling us about her father, but he—he has her. And I don’t know what to do. I know who he is but it—the only way to stop him is to kill him. And I can’t do that, I just can’t. I don’t know if you ever did know of who I am at night but I can’t kill him. Yet he must die.”

He knew Kilgrave and Fisk were two completely different people. Fisk may have had the power of persuasion but he only does it the way normally, rich powerful people can do it. Kilgrave, he’s practically on a mutant level of a threat.  One word and he can have someone slice their throat or take another’s life.  Hell that day when (Y/n) was born he could’ve had everyone, including (M/n) shot by the very police assigned to arrest him.

And people like him don’t go down so easily unless you call the Avengers, and he most certainly did not want that.  

He reached out and touched her gravestone and stroked down it until he felt her name.  “I know God won’t answer my prayers so I hope you can, please (M/n). I need a true angel on my side, what do I do now? Tell me what I need to do.”

But all he got was the soft whistle of the wind, other than that all was quiet.  He shook his head angrily as he sighed heavily and gripped the grass beneath him before standing up and walked away.

All throughout the day both Jessica, Foggy and Karen were doing research in order to find just where Kilgrave could’ve taken (Y/n) all the while Matt was getting changed into his Daredevil suit to go out and look for her.

“Any of you ladies coming up with something?” asked Foggy.

“Nope.” Replied Karen.

“I’ve been hacking into the security cams all around Hell’s kitchen but I’m coming up with jack shit. Can’t find the car he drove in or anything. Slick bastard must’ve had someone delete them beforehand.” Right as Matt came out placing his gloves on and holding the mask underneath his arm Karen stood up and said.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait I think I got something.” Everyone gathered around her and she opened up a security footage from the Forest Lodge hotel in upstate New York.  The very same cabin lodge where Kilgrave had taken (Y/n).  “This was taken sometime last night. A man coming in carrying a huge suitcase. See there he is giving it to the manager. And next thing you see is the entire staff leaving the lodge.”

“That’s him. That is him the bastard. He must’ve bought the hotel and removed the staff. He pulled this move with me when he bought back my childhood home. The bastard’s grooming her.”

“We have to call Mahoney and get the police up there.” Foggy said.

“No it’s too risky. We can’t risk any innocent people getting killed or becoming killers themselves.” Jessica said.

“She’s right. I’ll go.” Matt said.

“By yourself?” both Karen and Foggy said.

“You can’t take him on by yourself Murdock, trust me. And with your whole ‘no kill code’ he’ll play you on that weakness.” Jessica said.

“Then maybe that’s what I have to do.” At hearing this, Foggy and Karen’s hearts sunk and they were taken back by what Matt had just said, while Jessica was stunned to hear such a confession from the ‘good catholic boy’ Matt Murdock.

“You can’t be serious Matt.”

“He’s not like Fisk, Foggy. He’s not powerful in the sense of money or who he is, he’s powerful for his power. Much like Jessica….”

“Do not compare that asshole to me!” Jessica snapped furiously.

“He was forced to have these powers. One word is all it takes for him just walk freely and no one would be able to question it. This is what (M/n) wanted of me to do to protect (Y/n).”

“But it was also to show her that revenge isn’t the answer!” Foggy snapped.  “We’ll get her back Matt, but we need to think this through carefully.”

“I can’t wait anymore Foggy. I—I made a promise to her. To both Perry’s. I already lost one I—can’t lost another one. I can’t.” he put on his mask and without another word, he quickly raced up toward the staircase that led to the rooftop and left them in the dust.

“That stupid fucking idiot. He’s gonna get himself killed. I’ll go after him, you two stay here and call your detective friend Mahony but also get in touch with Hogarth. I don’t like the bitch but she’s got something that might help with the officers arresting Kilgrave safely, if he isn’t already dead.”

“We’re going with you!” Karen said.

“I already got one idiot out there, I don’t need two more. You two are clearly smarter than Murdock is right now. Look I know where his head’s at cause I’ve been there. And if Kilgrave can control him, he’s gonna need me to snap him out of it. If by some miracle he can’t control Murdock, god save him from the wrath of the Devil that’s coming for him.”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. But it’s nothing compared to the fury of a father willing to do anything for his child.” Foggy said. “Ever since we first met her, Matt’s always been closer to (Y/n) than I have. I always see the way he looks at her, talks about her. He loves her like she was his own daughter, and ever since (M/n) died, he always kept saying how he promised her that he’d protect her. Be the parental figure she has left.”

“Cute. But it’s logic like that that’ll get you killed. When you’re not thinking clearly. Now both of you. Stay here! I mean it!” Jessica then left through the front door and quickly raced out of the apartment and followed Matt’s trail to Upstate New York.

[asktheahogesandblondes]

Ah yes m/a over! See guys it wasent that bad now was it? Though junko did bring up a good point it completely slipped my mind I forgot to ask if makotos luck followed his soul when he went in junkos body or if it stayed in his body and junko had it, curious how that work, oh well to late to try now maybe next time…. Hahahah I kid I kid…. Unless…. Haha just joke I wouldent do the same thing twice so soon…maybe later for now

WHOAZAAAA!!!

*cake*

I give you a magic cake for putting up with body swap, see it’s magic because I was originally going to give you chocolate but I didn’t know if some of you might not like chocolate so instead I magiced it so when you cut a piece that piece turns into your favorite flavor of cake

So since the cake is about to answer I might as well ask…. What’s your favorite flavor of cake?

Natsumi:And just like that, all his forgiven.

Miu:Oh that's the good shit, now this use of magic I can get behind.

Junko:*Speaking while eating*I did actually try to kill Makoto while he was on my body, but it didn't work, then I tried Killing myself on his body...but that also didn't work...damn this taste really good.

Makoto:*Speaking while eating too* I think my luck also protected my body because I was eventually gonna return to it, I think if it was permanent then my luck would have followed me completely to Junko's body...Man this is a good cake, thank you for it.

Hajime:I hope this doesn't happen again, don't get me wrong it wasn't that bad but I'm in no mood to repeat that again, also thank you for the cake.

Shuichi:Me too, who knows if we get as lucky as this time and it blows out early, oh, and thank you for the cake as well.

Miu:Heh, blows~

Shuichi:*Sigh* anyways, my favorite cake flavor is Strawberry.

Miu:Mine is Ice Cream.

Hajime:Mine is cookie.

Natsumi:Mine is Molten Lava.

Junko:Mine is Marbel.

Makoto:And mine is Chocolate, more specifically German Chocolate.

[lary-the-lizard]

In my early stages of depression when I was 11-12ish I used to suffer in silence because I had romanticized the noble lonely heroes as a child and learned as a very young child that inconvenient truths would simply not be acknowledged. At 14–15 I made a huge deal because my mental illness had bumped up 2 levels and I was dealing anxiety and dissociating regularly. Then I went back to being quiet to test whether anyone actually wanted alive at all, thinking that if people cared about me they’d notice my absence. It turned into a type of meta-level revenge, where I’d purposely hurt myself and hide it for days and weeks only to reveal it when was so bad that it’d require intervention and my loved ones would have to acknowledge that they were neglecting me. It was like waving their flaws around in their face being like, “haha, it’s the fucking truth I don’t matter so if I kill myself it’s your fault.” Which is indirectly true but also not because my life is ultimately my responsibility. But mental health is a community responsibility and it’s a community failure when an individual has care for themself on their own for the most part. When I got to 19-20 I had grown out of a lot of toxic thought processes and practiced believing that people cared about me and giving them the opportunity to act on it. Through that time to 21 I was consistently suicidal and my mental health was a group issue.

It wasn’t until then that I realized how fucking pathetic and stupid silent suffering is.

I practice good person behavior all the time, I have done this since I was a very young child but recently it’s started to make a lot more cognitive sense than it used to. I used to be nice because I wanted to be admirable, remembered well, someone that people could idolize when I was gone. Then I was nice because I wanted the kids around me to have who I didn’t, someone that’d believe them, support them and protect them. Then I was nice because I needed to be needed. Now I’m nice because everyone deserves to be treated with basic human decency and I just like making people happy.

My kindness and my silence are correlated. Before I didn’t talk about my suffering because my pain made me good, I used it to romanticize the type of person I wanted to be. Now I’m not quiet (unless I forget to talk about it) because I am who I want to be. That’s not to say that I like myself all the time, but I know who I am and what matters to me, I don’t need to make up a story or personality to emulate. And this makes it so much easier to not be self centered prick. I was focused on myself because I needed to be important. I needed reasons to matter, but when I act on the belief that I do instead of trying to make someone I think is lovable, I have so much more energy to just be kind and receive kindness.

The lesson here is, take care of yourself but focus on your existence outside of yourself. If your world is made of up entirely on your inner self of course you’d hate yourself, you are all there is to feel anything about. Suffering in silence does not make you selfless or romantic. It makes you self centered and annoying. You have to think about others to be kind.

[aroacee-of-spades]

nyx im losing it over the last episode if good omens the timeframe makes no sense

hi sorry i took a day to respond to this!! (btw part of the reasoning for this is that ur ask pushed me to finally create a table listing every single time that aziraphale's clock displays throughout s2, which is why most of this will be abt the clock)

i will actually launch into essays abt the timing of the last episode i'm not even kidding

to be perfectly honest with u at first i thought it was trying to mimic books, when timing would change to fit a scene (and not to point fingers at writers who do this ig but i just don't typically like stories like these lmao) but even that doesn't explain the damned clock (i am so done with the clock, its presence haunts me) + why would Neil ever have any reason to mimic amateur writing???

anyway, i'm killing myself over any way to make sense of the timing in that episode rn.

like unless if the way time works in the uk has changed since i last lived there, and if aziraphale changed time during the Halo Scene (this also brings up the question of How Much and What Else did he change, which to the latter i don't think he changed Anything) which btw in the Halo Scene, its 6am and while i can't find the exact time at the start of The Ball (if u can pls tell me i'd love to expand on this, rn it's just a bunch of ramblings put into a google doc) or- more technically i found One tiiiiny scene from the bts clips that MIGHT be the correct time but i have yet to check this lmao (according to the clip it's 6:30pm which, if true, only adds to the utterly bewildering timeframes)

BUT ALSO everybody seems to have a sense of time (as seen in the nina, "i havent slept in 30 hours, order accurately & fast") which means that MAYBE IT'S JUST US?? which makes this whole thing so much more confusing bc if thats the case then why. whyyyyy. Why would you EVER use a working clock??????

i have SO MUCH to say abt the timeframes at the END especially. but before i do, i really wanna know what u think (btw this isn't me trying to pawn my answer on u i just really wanna know ur opinions on Everything gomens related haha)

i also wrote this during my breaks as i worked and i'm now done and am Very Tired and cannot fathom doing anything other than resting on the sofa and rewatching gomens:)

[ukulelekatie]

ukulelekatie, the queer dating scene in boston is slowly killing me....what do i do

what if we just dated each other? haha just kidding... unless?

seriously though, you're definitely not alone. I deleted all dating apps out of frustration in 2019 and then a pandemic happened and I've been too busy ✨working on myself✨ to even think about dating since then. but maybe check the events at Trident Booksellers? I went to a queer lady board game speed dating event there once. didn't have any luck but it was at least a fun time playing jenga with strangers.

anyway if you figure it out, let me know!

[theinvisiblemuseum]

do you have any pandalily headcanons or fics you could share?

bury a friend has given me brain rot :(

ok so i suck because i literally haven't read any fics in foreverrrrr BUT i'm always willing to provide some pandalily headcanons bc i love them more than life itself <33

i'll split it into modern/au vibes and canon vibes bc those differ greatly in my mind (and ill put it under the cut in case this gets long)

(spoiler, it did get long and i’m not sorry)

canon vibes:

so funnily enough in my view of 'canon' pandalily isn't a thing, i have a wholeeeee version of what i consider canon etched in my head and that's never changing but for the sake of the argument i DO have ideas

everyone is on a mission to keep these two apart at all costs

marauders & co know that lily’s a little bit crazy if properly encouraged and slytherins & co are well aware that pandora Can and Will be insane at any given opportunity

therefore, they must be kept apart, for everyone’s sanity

pandora and lily do what they want, more than anything

i like to believe they bonded over being fascinated by the same groteque subject, and they met up in the restricted section to make out

lily teaches pandora loads of deadly hexes, and pandora introduces lily to terrifying magical creatures

they both ride thestrals together, but neither of them can see them

something tells me that they discovered the whole deal about the chamber of secrets and solved it, and that’s how the marauders figured out that tom riddle was voldemort & then that in turn led regulus to research horcruxes but i’m getting too far ahead of myself here

sometimes they’d curse people off their brooms during quidditch matches

pandora is as big of a prankster as the marauders but she’s smart enough to get away with it & doesn’t take credit or leave a trace but if she DOES she uses lily’s head girl privileges to get out of trouble 

lily would look the other way when evan committed acts of arson

evan proposed to lily so he could be evan evans and pandora encouraged them to Get Married For The Bit

if pandalily were together in canon they wouldn’t have died period they would have rocked voldemort’s shit

they both realize after the war how down with murder they are

they start a little wizard hit man business they sneakily kill people and get super rich for it, i’m right i know i am

all their friends support this, because they’re killing shitty people and getting revenge for their friends that did die

lily refuses to take the last name rosier because she refuses to be lily rose and pandora refuses to take the last name evans because of her brother 

i haven’t actually properly thought about canonverse pandlily before but now i’m thinking so many thoughts oh no oh no

au vibes:

cannibalism

literally will graham lily and hannibal lecter pandora if you don’t see my vision i cannot help you it’s divine intervention you’re not ready for don’t worry one day you’ll see the light

intensely codependent

they saw each other, decided they’d kill for each other, and the rest is history

neither of them is allowed to die unless the other person kills them. in a romantic way. they will go hand in unlovable hand or not at all.

pandora’s family loves lily 

sometimes they’ll fall off the face of the earth for a little while, come back looking like hell, and their friends take bets on if they had sex, committed murder, or both

no one actually knows if their jokes about murder are jokes or not

like. they haven’t killed anyone. they just have a dark sense of humor. right?

haha. right????

“i stand with my cancelled wife”

dinner parties. human meat may or may not be on the menu

i think they’ve been to the met gala. at least twice.

they’re both night owls, but lily can wake up early and pandora would rather die than wake up early

they’d never have kids but they’re AMAZING aunts to their friends kids 

they give the kids weird shit that they definitely shouldn’t, like human brains in a jar or voodoo dolls

they’ve got some kind of telepathy, they alwaysss know what the other is thinking

they sometimes pretend they’re getting divorced just for fun, they go through a whole process and everything only to be like nvm :)

their lawyer hates them

they have an Attic. no one goes in the Attic. but everyone has a story about what they Think is in the Attic.

pandora has cloud tattoos all the way up her arm & neck and lily traces them while she tries to fall asleep

they play “how would you rather die” before bed every night and come up with stranger things every time

oh god this is getting so long i’ll be done now i promise

also yaz is writing a pandalily fic that’s dropping the first chapter on xmas and i’m very excited for thattttttttt and everyone else should be as wellllll <33

[trashcatsnark]

TW: suicide mentions, one mention of SA and human trafficking

So,while reading early kbtbb stuff, I often have the thought "man if I was mc I'd just kill myself" which idk if that says more about me or the shit mc goes through. But I absolutely think I had that thought the most in rereading hikaru's main story. Which, to be clear, this is not me shitting on Hikaru or saying he's the worst cause I mean... this is an otome about being human trafficked into romance, none of these men are free from sin.

It's more like, his mc seems to objectively had the worst life. Like, she was bought by but didn't fall for any of the og bidders, so for literal years she's been stuck working her ass off for the worst most undeveloped versions of them. Baba like once says something like "oh but we've been through so much" but like, they genuinely all still treat her fully like their errand girl/punching bag when they wanna tease her. And I know they're always shit heads, but genuinely it rarely if ever felt friendly and like I felt no implication that they gave a fuck about her. Like genuinely felt really cold and cruel

Then Hikaru immediately suckers into doing his grunt/spy work, he isolates her, constantly threatens to kill her, punches walls by her head, does that voltage trope of 'hey, what if i threatened to SA you, haha just kidding....unless?' and is a edgelord butt face until Oh no he has feewings. And yes, there are moments where he and mc embody my favorite bickering old married tsundere tropes and I genuinely love aspects of their chemistry but like....

If i was mc, I'd probably just jump off a bridge.

[burgiethewriter]

Asks for a Fic Writer! 🔆

Tumblr really didn't want to show me this, the fiend, but I was tagged by @randomsquirrel (thank you!)

How many works do you have on ao3?

Oh only about 1,365 (6 if I remember to post another tonight)

2. What's your total ao3 wordcount?

2,676,845 I am very mentally well thank you for asking

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Whatever ones the brainworms are currently wiggling in. So currently it's ffxiv and ffxvi and a little dash of sso

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Breakfast NSFW Stranger Things steddie. Which is actually the sequel to the second most kudosed one but I guess we're all sluts for domesticity.

Monster in the Bed more NSFW Stranger Things steddie. The lines of kudos emails I got from those two were fantastic.

Sunny-weather Snuggles and now for something COMPLETELY different, SFW mlp appledash. I used to have this little tradition, I suppose, of starting a new '30 day otp challenge' for every ship I liked. Don't think I ever finished one though.

Garden Party which is another SFW mlp fic but this time rarijack (I love their dynamic).

Odd Tattoo NSFW wtnv cecilos, god knows why I gave it the mature rating. I actually had this on ff.net initially, it's THAT old. But wtnv is just that popular I guess (for good reason! Night Vale my beloved).

5. do you respond to comments?

I do now after sitting there making flustered noises for a good ten minutes.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Funny thing about me, I never remember my fics. Ever. Legit I surprised myself one day discovering a stash of estimeric fics that I just. Don't remember writing. I feel like there was one though. It could be Frozen Wasteland SFW ffxiv which is about the bloody banquet at the end of arr which. Yeah. The saddest part is that I never went anywhere with it because then I started sb and met Lyse and um. Yeah.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Starlight Kittens sfw ffxiv Lyseka I think. There are probably happier endings but that's the one that immediately springs to mind.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Sometimes there are weird 'this is so cringe wtf' comments but hey it's not my fault if they don't embrace the cringe.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I was called sin mother for a time for a REASON okay. All kinds, vanilla, kink, monster, you name it. Very much into a/b/o and monsterfucking but I keep overthinking it and that kills the mood so fast.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

[hides the ffxiv/ffxvi one under the bed] I mean yeah. Craziest one was probablyyyyy the Gotham x SSO one. I can't remember what happened but I remember the crossover.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge but it's not like I go looking. Wouldn't surprise me if someone had stolen an sso one though, some of those kids man...

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Again not to my knowledge but I also know that ffxvi is very popular in other languages so honestly I'm waiting for it.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

I swear to god I have but I can't find it (unless Jack posted it??? It was years ago though) but I suppose the Wild West AU also counts? Green-eyed Drake's Revenge was the last one (god I miss that era so fucking much I met some of the best people but also the worst but I just really loved being a part of such a big project).

14. what's your all-time favourite ship?

The answer probably would've been easier before I played ffxvi but uhhhh yeah it's Terence/Dion from FFXVI. Which you wouldn't know from my fics for that fandom (I keep getting distracted by other ships) but like. Canon gays. Hello. How can I resist. Ship that makes me go 'eeee' and then think about for a while after I see it.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Haha what unfinished WIPs I don't have those scattered everywhere. I would like to actually finish Frozen Wasteland (linked above) someday but there's also a phoenixflareknight fic that I'm slowly pecking away at but it has no real plot or anything so I don't think I'll finish that. And the aforementioned ffxiv/ffxvi crossover.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Making anything look good, baby. Or so I've been told. Sheer determination? Dialogue maybe?

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

"And where is all of this action taking place?" Shrug emoji. Descriptions.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I think it's fine as long as there's a translation somewhere.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Sonic. I don't think I published any of them though. It's probably better that way.

20. favourite fic you've written?

There are a few that spring to mind but I associate them with an ex-friend so ew but Lost and Found is the ffxiv/ffxvi crossover fic I do have published where I put my character and her sister and the arr-era Scions into the world of ffxvi. I love it and wish it got more attention but maybe the time's just not right yet, idk.

I tag @tiredassmage @trusted-friend-ffxiv and @sso-eden-dawnvalley

[sideofcalimary]

Everyone Meet... Toshi

Katsuki: The fuck's got you in a good mood? Finally won something from the Dead pool?

Rody: Denki is still unsuccessfully flirting with people and getting his ass kicked, so that's a no

Rody slides Katsuki a drink and hums a tune as he wipes down his bar

Katsuki raises a brow and takes his drink: Since when did you start shitting rainbows then?

Rody: Since I met a lil cutie at the scrap yard

Katsuki: Wow, great romance story. Did you guys lock eyes while picking up the same shit covered toaster? Rody: Haha, unlike you, my potential love interest actually reciprocates

Katsuki: Fuck off. So your scrap rat likes you back, so what?

Rody: So nothin, KittyKats. Can't a guy just be in a good mood?

Katsuki: Yeah but you look fucking creepy without your shit eating grin Rody: As if you don't look like a rabid chihuahua every time you open your mouth

Katsuki: Keep talkin', bird's nest. I'm hot shit and you know it

Rody: And yet which one of us has a potential date?

Katsuki: Probably not you. Doubt whoever this is would say yes to... that Rody: ... You just gestured to all of me

Katsuki smirks

Rody scoffs: He'll say yes. We've got a lot in common. As long as I read up on those All Might comics he rambled on about I'm good to go

Katsuki paused mid drink and stared: ... The fuck did this guy look like? Rody: Adorable

Katsuki: Be more descriptive, woodpecker

Rody: What's got you so curious? jealous~

Katsuki glares: They got green hair and freckles? Big stupid round glasses?

Rody looked confused: Green and freckles yeah but he was wearing goggles. You know em?

Katsuki: Depends

Rody: on what?

Katsuki: You get their name?

Rody: And I should tell you because...?

Katsuki: I can rip your spine out through your nose and shove it up your ass

Rody: Graphic but unconvincing

Katsuki: Goddamn it, Rody. Is his name Izuku?! Rody: What- no? Said his name was Toshi

Katsuki seemed to calm down from that and downed his drink

Rody: so you're just not gonna tell me who this 'Izuku' is?

Katsuki: Not unless you wanna keep all your fingers

Rody: Alright alright. Geez. So pissy today.... . . .

Shoto: Real smooth, /Toshi/

Izuku threw a screw at Shoto and groans: Stooppp! I panicked, okay! They were really nice and kept complementing me and I just- I didn't know if I should give them my real name or- Shoto: You're acting like you're a kid who's not allowed to talk to strangers

Izuku: I PANICKED! No one's ever called me handsome like that before! A-And besides, I was covered in dirt and dust and- and AAAHHHHHH

He screams into his bed that he was sitting next to Shoto: You really are hopeless

Izuku: You're so mean to me...

Shoto: It could be worse, you know

Izuku: How?

Shoto: He could've tried to kill you for that toaster

Rody: Another toaster today?

Izuku: Oh well the one I took yesterday didn't have the right part I needed. Sorry, did you need one? I think I saw another one somewhere closer to fridge mountain, but then again it could just be another lamp in the shape of a toaster. Rody: Still can't believe we found three of those

Izuku: haha must be a market for them. There are a lot of weird scraps here that people throw away

Rody: One man's trash is another man's treasure. So far I found myself the treasure of a life time

Izuku looks at the box Rody proudly digs into it and pulls out a faded yellow tamagachi: Tada~ The battery is probably damaged but it's still a cool find

Izuku: A cool find?! That's horrible!

Rody: Huh?

Izuku: Who would throw away they're digital babies like that?! Rody seemed surprised by Izuku's genuine sadness over the toy and chuckles: hey hey relax. If it makes you feel any better, think of this as me adopting this thing. I could probably fix it with a lil tinkering

Izuku perks up at that: You can? Rody: Yeah, how hard could it be?

Izuku: Pretty hard...

Rody: So you've fixed one before

Izuku shrugs and walks to put his toaster near his bag: Tried to. I broke mine when I was young and tried to fix it before, Kacchan found out I broke his gift Rody follows and places his box down: Kacchan?

Izuku mentally slaps himself for his over sharing: Yeah uh he's a friend?

Rody: are you asking me that or..?

Izuku: He's my childhood friend. He gave me a tamagachi for my birthday and I ended up breaking it by accident

Rody: How'd you manage that?

Izuku sighs and pulls on one of his curls: I'm... real clumsy. I tripped and managed to throw it out my window when I was little

Rody chuckles: I wanna ask how that happened but I also wanna save you the embarrassment. Though it's cute when you are Izuku's cheeks turned pink. He quickly covers his face with his arms and looks away nervously: Stop calling me that!

Rody laughs: Just speaking the truth

Izuku: W-well, your truth is embarrassing! Do you always talk to strangers you meet at the scrap yard like this? Rody winks: Only the handsome ones~

Izuku whines and pulls his goggles down over his eyes to avoid eye contact. His face fully red

Rody: Okay okay I'll stop. I guess I've been laying it on a little too thick huh?

Izuku: You guess? Rody smiles and walks in front of Izuku: You're funny, Toshi. Maybe we could change the stranger thing? It would be nice to talk to you more outside a dirty scrapyard

Izuku: Really..? Even after I rambled on about All Might last time? Rody: BECAUSE you rambled on about All Might last time. I'm planning on starting the series and I wanna know where I should start from the professional All Might fan himself. Maybe, over coffee?

Izuku paused and raised up his goggles again.

He looks at Rody, then at the bird perched on his shoulder

Izuku: Well... I'll think about it if you'd consider telling me more about Pino

Rody seemed surprised as Pino twitched to life and mimicked his emotion: Hmm... Sure, why not. Soooo coffee? Izuku smiles: I'll think about it. Not sure when I'll be free though

Rody: Why don't I give you my number and we can schedule?

Izuku: oh! Great idea! I guess meeting here isn't the most effective way to communicate Rody: What gave you that idea? The pile of garbage or the pile of garbage?

Izuku laughs at that and the two exchange numbers before bidding their goodbyes. Rody walking away with a box of tech and a possible date.

And Izuku going home with a potential new future friend!

-

-

-

Eijiro: Oh, sorry lil dude! Didn't see you there! ah man let me pay for that

Izuku: No no it's okay! I should've been looking where I was going. Really it's fine

Eijiro: no really, at least let me buy you another roll. It's unmanly of me to just walk away

Izuku: It's really okay! This happens a lot more often then you think

Eijiro pouts at that and kneels down, using the dropped tissue to pick up the cinnamon roll that fell icing first on the floor: And no one ever buys you a new one?

Izuku: uh... No..? Eijiro gets back up, grinning as he tosses the poor roll into the trash: Then let me be the first! I was gonna buy one myself anyways

Izuku: but-

Eijiro: if you're worried about stranger danger then- I'm Kirishima Eijiro!

He holds out his hand in a friendly manner Izuku panics. Usually people just walk away after this happens and he's currently running on stress and adrenaline...

Plus this guy was HUGE and he's never met anyone with such sharp teeth before

Should he really trust him?

Eijiro: Uuuhh you okay? I can't really hear you Oh crap he's muttering. Izuku thinks to himself

/he's gonna think I'm annoying and wanna crush my head with his giant hands! I gotta think straight! I don't wanna cause a scene! Quick, act natural!/

• • •

Shoto: so you're just going to assume another identity? Was spiderman not enough?

Izuku: I PANICKED! He was really big and scary he looked like he could pick me up with one hand and snap me in half like a pencil

Shoto: he offered to buy you a cinnamon roll.. that you dropped Shoto takes a bite of a cinnamon stick

Izuku: I know! He was really nice but you know how I am when I'm under stress

Shoto: You lose all your social skills and revert back to first year of highschool

Izuku: correction, I turn into YOU first year of highschool Shoto: At least I didn't lie about my name to strangers. Are you going to create a back story for 'Toshi Yami' now?

Izuku: at this point I might as well get a fake ID and live a triple life. Complicate things even more. Invest in shake weights and move to Cali Shoto: sometimes I think you might be a masochist

Izuku: Did Shinso teach you that word?

Shoto takes a sip of his tea, eating another cinnamon stick

• • • Eijiro: - So I maybe have gotten overkill when buying all this

Katsuki massages the bridge of his nose, standing in front of a counter that had two boxes of different types of cinnamon rolls and coffee of varying sweetness Katsuki: All this because you felt bad for this Toshi guy?

Eijiro: He was really sweet! And I felt so bad! You would've done the same if you saw how sad he looked!

Katsuki: if you were buying him one roll then why the FUCK did you buy all this?!? Eijiro: Well, he kept going on about the different flavors while we were in line and I got really curious!

Katsuki: And what? You're just gonna eat all this in one sitting?

Eijiro: What? No! I called the gang over to taste test with me

Katsuki's eye twitches: I swear to fuck, if I ever meet whoever this Toshi guy is, I'm gonna sew his mouth shut so he doesn't turn any more of you into bumbling idiots

Eijiro: You say that now, but you'll change your mind when you actually meet him. He's real cute! Katsuki: 'Cute' isn't gonna make me wanna bend to the will of some moss head

• • • Katsuki: Gimme that, you damn nerd!

Katsuki grabs and carried the box of gadgets Izuku was about to carry and starts walking ahead of him

Izuku: oh! You didn't have to Kacchan!

Katsuki: fuck off, you'll end up tripping on your own shitty shoelaces trying to carry this Izuku: I'm not THAT clumsy

Katsuki: Yeah right. You have the peripheral vision of a blind snake. You'll end up bumping into a wall, dropping and breaking all your shit, then apologizing to the damn piece of concrete like you've disgraced it's family. Izuku laughs at that and follows along side Katsuki with a bright smile: Thanks for the help, Kacchan! I'll buy you lunch later

Katsuki: whatever. Stop looking at me like that. Your fucking glasses gives you bug eyes and it's creepy

Izuku: Meanie

Katsuki: klutz