#(​except for kids ofc lol)

[zhongrin]

the way you can just see where i taped the nail picks orz....... (other hand's thumb for comparison)

li come kiss it better ;<

[knightelf]

feeling complicated things this wednesday at 2pm

[grimgummies]

YIPPEE MORTIS ANGST!!! :D

HELLO you want to see my poor son suffering,, Enduring the worst times of his life,, Dealing with everything he was put through on his own cuz he had literally NOBODY to go to

Because if so...

So do I lol

[luxraydyne]

honestly thinking abt it i’d definitely have preferred if danganronpa v3 had actually fully committed to the “fiction that hates you and mocks you and wants you to question why you still enjoy it bc you become brainless amoral voyeurs whenever you engage with it, you people kinda suck ass tbh actually” reading all the way to the bitter salted earth end. like i doubt i’d have *liked* the weird superiority complex vibes from it and the whole deflected creative ennui onto the audience still. but i’d for sure have to at least *respect* the gumption, the sheer full-chested audacity of the choice, especially in the context of this specific franchise, if the writing didn’t spend like an extra hour pussyfooting around doing a watered down, sugarcoated little backpedal into “oh no, not you actually bc you specifically are special and nice and good and don’t count”. this trial is way too fuckin long anyway like pick your bit and stick to it binch. call me a sucker to my face binch come on!

[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

taglist:

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

@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

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

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

@satoryaa @gojodickbig @v4mpieres @reinam00n @sleepyyammy

@haikomaiko @tbzzluvr @myahfig4 @arabelluhhh4200 @bloopsstuff

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

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

@milkm4nz @athinasaurus @sashisuslover @welldamnsatoru @aeriiixhh

@crystalymin @dcvilxswish @miakxn @satxoru

[golden-moony]

king of my heart | smau

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader | pato o'ward x fem!reader

summary: y/n is an F1 content creator loved among the grid and the fans, and more than one person ships her with lando due to how close they've always been. but when y/n goes to her first IndyCar race, the last thing she expects is being involved in rumours with another mclaren driver.

warnings: love triangle? kinda.

author's note: i might turn this into a mini series but i'll see how it goes. btw english it's not my first language so if there's any grammatical error please let me know so i can fix it, ty🧡 now enjoy!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

------------------------------------------------------

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; it's indycar weekend in Long Beach, babyyyy!] [caption 2; time for practice and snacks🌞]

patriciooward

liked by indycar, zbrownceo, yourusername, and 83,527 others!

patriciooward INDY500 colors and back in the streeetz🤩

user1 lookin' goooood🔥

arrowmclaren it'll look even better with confetti covering it😉 user2 admin knows a win is coming!! 💪

user3 Este es tu año, cabrón! VAMOOOOS 🇲🇽

user4 is it a requirement to be handsome to drive in mclaren? cause daaaamn

user5 same girl, same

yourusername black is the new papaya fr 🔥 can't wait for tomorrow!

patriciooward hopefully you'll be wearing #5 user6 OMG?!?!!!??? yourusername can't show favoritism! i'm a professional, sir patriciooward it can be our secret then 😉 user7 OH MY- HELLOOOOO? user8 landonorris come get your girl bro!!! user9 omfg mr o'ward i wasn't familiar with your game user10 y/n sweety, wrong mclaren driver landonorris 🤨 user11 she really said i want a mclaren, don't care which one😭 user12 and she's so real for that

user13 let's goooo Pato!! 🦆🧡

user14 y/n and pato's exchange?? NEW SHIP HAS ARRIVED!

user15 i feel like i'm betraying my roots but pato and y/n would be the it couple fr user16 SO TRUE user17 pato and lando deserve sooo much better.

user18 NOT LANDO REPLYING TO THE COMMENT 😂😂

user19 f1twt is about to have a blast with this one 🍿 user20 they already have #teampato and #teamlando hashtags going on 😭😭

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; preparation for ✨qualy day✨] [caption 2; that's how you arrive in style]

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, alexanderrossi, shelovesformula1, and 76,088 others!

yourusername First IndyCar race ✅ can't explain how incredible this weekend was! I’ve had the pleasure of chatting to so many cool people, discovering so much about this series and meeting so many of you! 🧡 can't wait to show you everything soon 😘

user1 what a babeeeee 😍

frosenqvist so great to meet you! hope you come to another one again soon! 🏁

arrowmclaren we second this! user2 she's an indy girl now 😎 tkanaan especially after all the fun we had last night😜 yourusername oh i'll definitely come back for more races (and parties ofc🙊) user3 she's part of the family now! love to see it user4 mclaren team 🤝 us: being in love with y/n

user5 PATO INTERVIEW??!! WE WON

lissiemackintosh so happy to have met you!! 💖

yourusername can't wait to see u again 🥹 user6 MY FAVES 🤩🤩 user7 girls supporting girls 💞 user8 we need a colab!

landonorris y/n get out of there. That's not your family!

carlossainz55 y/n please hurry, the kid has missed you maxverstappen1 y/n please hurry, we can't stand him anymore maxfewtrell y/n please hurry, he gets whiny when you're not around alex_albon y/n please hurry, oscar is about to commit crime oscarpiastri that is correct, so please y/n hurry landonorris when i asked y'all to back me up, this is NOT what i meant 🙄 yourusername if it helps at all, i've miss you all 🫶 (except Lando) landonorris i hate y'all fr user9 this is the kind of content i pay my internet bill for 😂

user10 literal queen 👑

user11 she couldn't become lando's wag so now she goes to indy to try to find a man lol such a clout chaser

user12 girl stfu she's literally just doin her job user13 try not to sound so bitter next time 💋 user14 get a life, hater

user15 MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user16 i don't think we're talking enough about that last photo

user17 RIGHT?! Y/N X PATO LET'S GOO user18 nah y/n x lando >>>>>>>>

patooward Indy looks good on you 💯 i wonder who took that amazing first pic

yourusername credits to you, amateur😘 user19 you can't convince me they're not flirting user20 i truly don't know if i wanna be pato or y/n... i only know i'd hate to be lando rn 😭 user21 y/n and lando are the endgame user22 Y/N X PATO TILL THE END

landonorris posted to his story!

[caption; safe and sound where she belongs]

sooo.... y'all want part 2?

[pepper-makes-art]

MY RELATIVITY FALLS FIDDLEFORD!

ik ur technically supposed 2 start w the mystery twins x2 but god fiddles is my absolute fav so i HAD 2 start with him... <3

ive swapped him w pacifica!! (i was considering swapping him w candy buuuut i put candy in a diff role lol)

me rambling abt fiddleford in my au:

in this au, he's the eccentric hillbilly kid sort of like old man mcgucket in the og series (except he's not insane and just acts like that bc he wants to)

the townsppl constantly see him meandering abt w his MASSIVE "tea cup" pig dawdles and they get into kooky situations w/ his love of building weird, pretty destructive mechs. however, nobody knows that he's secretly the (adopted) son of the northwest family and his real name is archibald augustus III northwest!

how you may ask? bc nobody recognizes him w/o the slick northwest hairstyle. bc gravity falls ppl r kiiiinda dumb, minus grauntie mabel n the mystery twins.

fiddleford frequently sneaks out of the manor and eventually bumps into stan n ford! the twins initially think he's batshit crazy but they eventually become buddies :) eventually.

ill ofc go over pacifica in more detail on her post, but she's the "old witch of northwest" and is seen rarely, if at all. she resides presumably near the northwest manor and is sometimes seen foraging for strange things, which earned her the name of the "witch"

ill prob do stan n ford next (and mayb also dipper n mabel!)

[sl-ut]

streamer!ellie hcs

been thinking about gamer!ellie williams x fem!reader a little too much lately so here are some random ass hcs

part two | part three

she's a pretty big streamer on twitch, plays a lot of different games but she particularly likes rpgs bc she thinks they're the most fun kinds of streams to watch

she plays gta online (on nopixel ofc) A LOT

her rp character is definitely like a druglord or something lol

speaking of, total stoner

she usually smokes right before her streams to help her settle down (she gets kinda nervous before her streams)

she's up front about her drug use (just weed don't worry) w her fans, but definitely doesn't wanna smoke on stream bc she knows there are younger viewers watching

she streams at night, probably around 8:30-9pm AT THE EARLIEST

has a boss set up. she has an extra room in her apartment for streaming, has lots of fun little figurines and posters of her fav games/movies/artists, led lights (always set to either blue or red), and custom display, keyboard, and headset

off-topic, but she'd also an astrophysics major and is on the DEANS LIST??? our girl is so casually smart and doesn't even try that hard like

she's such a nerd, always been a big star wars, harry potter, and lotr fan since she was a kid

she casually drops the gf bomb on stream one day and the internet just about blows up

lesbian twitter died a little that day

she's kinda secretive about it tho, didn't even really mean to mention her gf (she hadn't even asked her to be her gf yet and she already publicly announced that she was off the market)

for plot purposes, i've always really liked the idea that y/n is also a public figure? maybe she's a small actor/singer or an influencer or something

y/n texted her during the stream saying "u got something u wanna ask me???"

ellie was trying so hard to not turn red and end the stream

a few days later, everyone's fav lowkey singer/actor/influencer happens to soft launch her new gf (everyone was a little sus but no one really assumed that it was ellie bc why would it be??? they've literally never interacted on the internet before?)

except what they don't know is that ellie had been really high one night and decided to shoot her shot, sending a risky dm on insta and almost pissing herself when she saw that she had actually responded

begins talking about the relationship more on stream

doesn't reveal who her gf is for a while tho, but when she gets a text from y/n asking for her help for a sec she'll just tell her chat that she'll be back bc she needs to "go help the missus"

such a loser fr

finally hard launches on y/n's bday, posting a photodump from the past few months that they've been together

lesbian twitter died again

two of the hottest internet gays off the market? oh no

but everyone really loves it

ellie likes when she brings her snacks or a drink during the stream, inviting her to sit on her lap and chat for a bit while they're waiting to join a server or something

she bought an additional gaming laptop so y/n could stream with her sometimes

ellie does random super loser stuff when this happens, like if they're playing gta she's taking her on a long car ride around the city bc she's roleplaying as y/n's sugar daddy

loves using her platform to hype up her gf's work

always reposting new songs or casting announcements that her gf is involved in, and loves being her date to big press events

omg i might have to make a little modern!ellie fic bc i love this smmmm

[melodrangea]

Hi!

I enjoy everything you write. i was wondering if you could write a headcannon about Death the kid x stein's kid and how Stein would react?

Thank you 💖

lol now this is funny

getting right to it

----------------------------------------------------

Death the Kid x Stein's Kid

-at first Kid would be scared shitless I'm not even gonna lie

-not even scared of you, just scared of having feelings for you knowing how Stein is

-when you two first start to go out you both agree to hide it from both of your dads as long as you can (#single fathers club)

-because a.) Stein is terrifying and b.) Lord Death is a messy bitch that's here for the drama

-so most dates are lowkey, cafes, studying at the library etc...

(he keeps you away from zoos just incase you like 'biology' like your dad)

-only the main gang really knows about the two of you (except Black Star ofc)

-the way that Stein finds out isn't by you telling your father and trusting him to having a good reaction

you really wish

-how Stein really found out was by Liz and Patty accidentally blabbing to Lord Death (I am convinced that Lord Death is so good at reverse psychology)

-and then because Lord Death also cannot keep things to himself he blabbed to Stein

dude's reaction was just "....." *drops surgical knife*

-he is oddly calm yet menacing as shit when he approaches the two of you and asks how long it's been going on

-Kid is scared absolutely shitless and you are a little nervous tbh

-but you stand your ground and tell Stein to take it or leave it

-Stein is so done if I'm being completely honest

-the only upside is that he's rich and it's better than someone like Black Star

-Kid is just an oddball even by Stein's standards, little too uptight

-definitely takes Stein a few months to get used to Kid, and probably takes like a full year to genuinely like him

-I can't see Stein really liking anyone that his kid takes home so it's nothing personal

-at least the two of you don't have to worry about Lord Death because he likes the two of you together more than the two of you <3

[hana-no-seiiki]

Does aeon of dreams reader has emanators? I think someone inspired by the sandman myth would be pretty cool

AEON OF DREAMS! READER HEADCANNONS

Yes! Their worshippers in general are called Dreamers or Those that Enter the Majesty’s Domain.

Their missionaries/emanators are called Sleepwalkers. Their churches are called Chambers/Domains of Fantasies and the main one is named after their resting place “The Cradle”

Note: It’s important to distinguish between the Sleepwalkers that are completely loyal to Aeon of Dreams! Reader alone and their eternal sleep, to those that believe they should be awoken and also believe in Nanook.

There are also the extremists that force other people into perma sleep called the Heralds of the Sleeping Death. Similar to the Sandman myth but imagine an army of people throwing dust that instantly puts you into a siesta . . . except that early afternoon of yours lasts for an eternity.

There are also like - whole ass denominations that are all just based on a ship with another Aeon.

Yaoshi x Reader ? That’s the Abundant Trance / Trance in Abundance denomination that aside from vehemently shipping the two believe that sleep is the best medicine.

Qilipoth x Reader ? The Preservation of the Fantasy denomination . They believe in cryogenesis to preserve one’s sleeping state to forever dream.

IX x Reader? You think that real life is worthless and just want to sleep forever and indulge the dreams you can actually control? Join the club kid. It’s called the Void in Reality, Infinity in Dormancy.

and ofc Nanook x Reader. Sleepwalkers turned Anti Sleep Legion turned Anti Matter Legion. There are pretty chill ones that just don’t like sleep at all and are interested in ways to keep themselves awake as much as possible. But most of them believe that sleep is a cage they need to help other people to be liberated from.

And those aren’t even the extreme members that are all like “cool imma destroy everything and myself so that my two gods can live happily ever after. im gonna sleep eternally in the afterlife anyways. byeee-“

if people are interested ill edit in all the denominations based on ships lol but for now have those (im specifically hoping to write the erudition/hunt x reader denominations cause those would be interesting imo)

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[mister-mickey]

Okay okay so this is exposing me as probably the cringiest person ever maybe but‼️ descendants au!

Okay so for anyone who doesn’t know the basic premise of descendants, all the characters are the kids (aka, descendants) of (Disney) fairytale characters, both villains and heroes. The descendants movies mostly focus on the villain kids and their redemption, and that’s what the trilogy is basically about (ignore the new movie, it sucks, don’t even bother watching it)

Okay so, Darry, soda, and ponyboy are the sons of Gaston because I think it’s silly. Darry is strong like Gaston, soda is good with the ladies, and Ponyboy is the biggest disappointment ever.

He likes to READ like a FREAK so Gaston hates his stupid little child. Gaston isn’t too fond of Darry either because although Darry is big and strong, he sucks with the ladies, and is also intelligent and dislikes his dad.

Soda might be Gaston’s fave, but even he isn’t perfect because he’s skinny and not tough. So they all have severe daddy issues lol

After that we have Dallas who is technically the main character because he steals Mal’s spot as maleficents child. (He’s a fairy haha so funny)

He’s like a little demon and we love/hate him. He does magic and all that. He hates his mom because… she sucks but he also lowkey wants her approval because she is the most powerful person on the isle. He has almost the same relationship with her as Mal does in the movies, so there isn’t a whole lot to change

I gave him horns because I felt like mal should have had horns

Next is Johnny! His mom is mother Gothel because none of the main parents seemed to fit him. They have a complicated relationship because that lady is crazy but she’s also really good at pretending that she loves him

Poor guy is so conflicted 24/7. He’s got long hair because mother Gothel has somehow gotten it into her head that he will eventually become magical.

And then there is twobit!!!! His dad is Jafar which I’m pretty sure was @crazability idea

This was mostly because he seemed very similar to jay in the movies, but also because like… it just works. We like it

He’s goofier than jay is because he’s twobit but I think he plays a similar role

Then Steve!!! Steve is Cruella DeVil’s son. He is very smart obviously because he’s Steve but since Cruella owns the only car then he is ofc the car guy

Steve is the same except he is deathly scared of dogs because of his mom lol. He HATES her she is absolutely off her rocker

Now after them is the auradon kids!! These are obviously the socs because like, come on

They get tiny doodles because I got lazy.

Paul is the son of belle and the beats! He is the future king of auradon and that power goes to his blond curly head. He is also hopelessly in love with the person he keeps seeing in his dreams (if you’ve read the descendants books you know, but if you haven’t, I’ll explain later in the plot section)

Cherry is Ariel’s daughter! She’s a mermaid obviously and I’m assuming she’s melodys younger sister. We made her Ariel’s kid because she’s a redhead lol. Cherry is super chill until she meets annoying Dallas. She’s currently dating Bob

Marcia is fairy godmothers child and she takes Jane’s role in the original movies. She’s kind of insecure (though not AS insecure) and it does affect the way she behaves

Bob is literally just chad charming if his name was Bob. Also if chad was violent. Bob is Cinderella and Prince Charming’s son. He’s very eugh I guess

Randy is the son of aurora and whatever her husbands name is. He dislikes Dallas because of that but I’ll expand on that further down

OKAY! PLOT!

20-25 years previous, the villains were resurrected and sent to the isle of the lost. This was as a punishment becuase apparently death was not punishment enough. Obviously the villains have kids and the heroes have kids, but the villains kids grow up in an incredibly violent and poverty stricken environment. Cruelty is not just encouraged, but necessary for survival. Nobody cares about these kids so they often raise themselves

Well, the good guys elect a king to rule over all the lands (auradon) and they pick the beast from beauty and the beast. Whatever. Well now Paul is about to be king (despite his father being alive and fine. Stupid descendants lore)

Paul has been having dreams about blue eyes for months. He doesn’t remember anything else. It’s haunting him and he’s been searching for the person with blue eye for so long. He eventually figured that the person may be on the isle, so his first decree as a soon to be king is for some of the kids to be taken off of the isle.

So Darry, pony, soda, Dallas, Johnny, Steve, and twobit get picked. They are carted in a limousine and taken to auradon. Now, these guys have an EVIL plan thanks to Dally’s mom

The plot is basically the same after this except dally is the one doing the magic, but Darry is the one with the romance plot.

Basically, dally thinks Paul’s is gross and he refuses to seduce him. They all draw straws and darry loses. Dally makes the love potion, darry gets Paul to eat it, and then darry has to deal with Paul being head over heels for him. Eventually Darry falls in love back (which is super scary for him) which makes him not want to take over auradon.

Dally is conflicted because he wants to take over auradon to show his mom that he’s powerful but he’s quickly realizing that she will never care. He feels stupid for ever wanting her approval and sticks with the people that he KNOWS will always love him (the gang)

Now, they all get their arcs where they realize that they like living in auradon and they like being happy and not on the defensive 24/7.

Steve gets the dog arc where he realizes that his mom lied to him to keep him under her thumb

Twobit flirts with girls and tells jokes like he does on the isle, but in auradon people act likes he’s special for being witty. They want to be his friend. They actually try to get to know him and it makes him realize that his humor was a sort of defense tactic. He realizes that he doesn’t want to be funny just as a defense. He likes to make people smile. (Also room for marbit where he jokes with her and makes her feel good and she is a little less insecure but still insecure because insecurity doesn’t just go away after one conversation)

Johnny cuts his hair! It was an accident and he felt so nervous he almost passed out, thinking about how mad his mom would be. But then the teachers helped him even it out and make it look okay, and made sure he was okay. He felt free and happy that he was given a choice. He realizes that he wants the space to make choices

Soda is used to feeling dumb. He doesn’t like to read or do much of that stuff. He leaves it to darry and pony. It’s never been an issue for him, until the teachers started caring. It was awkward for him having all his teachers offer extra lessons because he struggled so much. It was weird having adults CARE about his issues. He starts to hate his dad a lot more

Pony is clear cut tbh. He likes to read, he hates fighting, and gangs, and wars, and everything else that the villains DO want. He meets belle and they become besties. He was on the auradon side since the beginning tbh. He felt very validated swapping his stories about his dad with her.

But! Trouble still happens when Marcia tries to make herself “better” and accidentally opens the barrier. Maleficent comes, causes trouble, and dally defeats her with the power of friendship

Darry realizes that the spell on Paul wore off ages ago and that Paul really does like him, boom! Happily ever after!

For now. Descendants two will include the Shepards 😈 and other characters if anyone has ideas on how to make that work

Also forgive me if this is confusing my phone is super laggy and I’m having trouble actually typing

Also! @batidochokolat wrote a few cute little snippets a while back of this au and I’m still crazy about it

[transgenderfabianseacaster]

hiding in the bathroom at my job and watching fhjy finale pt2 and thinking about what hobbies the bad kids do so. here you are

adaine: programming!!!! she also writes poetry sometimes. and she likes to research her hyperfixations and write essays on them (nerd /aff). also meditation, which she started when her anxiety was really bad and continues still even though she’s doing better in that front

riz: cooking, during the times he is not hyperfixated on his investigations (said times are few and far between, but sklonda and his friends are fighting the never ending battle of helping him not always be burnt out lol. which means they eat Lots of nice homemade meals)

kristen: she is the artist of the bad kids. her favored mediums are watercolor and sculpture. she has painted all the bad kids many times and her art is hung up everywhere in mordred and her friends houses

gorgug: besides drumming, he is always taking things apart and building new contraptions. he and adaine like to work on computers together. he also doodles a lot

fig: tbh her biggest hobby is writing/practicing her songs, but she also likes customizing her clothes and making patches and accessories. all the other bad kids have customized clothes from her. also skateboarding!! she does a bunch of cool (dangerous) tricks

fabian: i mean canonically he does a fuckton of expensive rich kid hobbies like calligraphy and glassblowing lol, and dance and fencing ofc. i think he also likes to try out his friends hobbies, so he’s adequate at a bunch of those things. except programming he can’t do that 🫶🫶

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

I’ve been at a family gathering all day so here are some hcs for a Curtis family gathering

Darry

As the eldest grandchild he was somewhat treated like an adult even before his parents died. But it balanced out by the fact that the entire family worshipped him just for existing. He’s his grandma’s favorite and she makes it VERY obvious.

After his parents died he completely stopped being seen as one of the kids/grandkids. He started helping at the grill and chatting with the other adults. It wasn’t the worst thing over because he was outgrowing a lot of the kids anyways, but it was still SO disorienting for him the first couple times. 

Every so often he’ll say something and the whole family will be forced to remember he’s still barely an adult. And then they’ll have to ponder that for a moment and it kinda kills the mood

One time he was offered a beer and reminded everyone he was underage. That one fucked with them for a while.

All the kids beg Darry to pick them up, carry them around, all that stuff. And he definitely does it every time. They get so pissed when he says he’s tired and stops. Like demon screeching ‘NO’

The big thing Darry doesn’t like about the gatherings is that everyone is trying SO hard to avoid mention anything about the Curtis parent’s deaths. To the point that it’s painfully obvious and very uncomfortable for Darry.

There’s this one asshole uncle and one time he started insulting Soda’s intelligence in front of Darry (Soda was outside) and the two almost fought. The uncle got kicked out after that

He makes an absolutely amazing burger (he learned from his dad)

Sodapop

The poor boy isn’t really anyone’s favorite. They all like him but don’t take as much pride in him as his brothers, he’s really overlooked.

The exception to this is uncle on his dad’s side, he sees himself a lot in Soda and dotes on him. They’re super close and the uncle always slips him five dollars to buy himself something nice

The younger kids definitely absolutely adore them. He loves just roughhousing with them and chasing them around the yard. Most of them call him their favorite cousin and it goes straight to his ego.

One of the kids hurts inevitably themselves and cries every time. Soda always will bundle them into his arms and clean them up before he can get in trouble lol. Most of the time only Ponyboy finds out and my boy isn’t a snitch. 

One of the kids just goes home with a big scrape and their parents are like ‘where did this come from-‘ but nobody has put two and two together yet

At the first gathering after their parents died he broke down sobbing halfway through. Darry found him crying in their moms old bedroom. They went home after that and it turns out they all had wanted to leave.

For extra spice, the reason he started crying is because a lot of those kids weren’t old enough to understand the concept of death and kept asking him where their aunt and uncle were

Him and Ponyboy will have heavy gossip sessions in their room once they get home. Darry knows about them and will sometimes join if the tea is really hot.

Ponyboy

He’s their pride and joy. He’s so insanely spoiled and gets basically whatever he wants. Once it became clear college wasn’t happening for Darry everybody was all over him.

Being a fourteen year old he does NOT enjoy these gatherings. He usually just either sits in the corner with a book or hangs out with the only other cousin his age.

He sometimes likes watching Soda play with the kids because of how happy he looks. However he himself avoids those kids at all costs.

Back to the gossip sessions, Ponyboy ends up with so much knowledge because everyone assumes he isn’t listening or forgets he’s there. This dude knows everything.

He finds their doting so annoying and is like ‘leave me alone’ (he grows out of this ofc, 14 year olds just kinda suck lol)

When he gets older he joins the adults a lot, still not a fan of the kids

[acrid-wondrland]

Random Taiju Shiba SFW and NSFW Headcanons

🥳Happy Birthday Taiju🎂

In honor of his birthday, I'm gonna do some personal Taiju hcs.

Maybe Ill try and do this for each characters b-day moving forwards.

TW: Taiju lol. Violence. Traditional values. Religious intolerance. Potential internalized homophobia(?). Pregnancy.

MINORS DNI

SFW:

⛪️Taiju is a morning person. He gets up early and has a full breakfast every day, no exceptions.

⛪️ He doesn't go to the gym. His physique is purely from his active lifestyle, fighting, and eating a bery healthy diet.

⛪️Taiju is extremely meticulous. He HATES anything being out of place or unclean. Even if you're depressed, you'd better make sure to not be a slob around him.

⛪️Taiju will never admit it, but he does feel bad about abusing his siblings. Doesn't mean he's reformed though.

⛪️He definitely mellows out significantly as an adult, but he still physically disciplines his kids. He uses a belt usually; he's convinced himself it's a lesser evil than using his fists like he did on Hakkai and Yuzuha.

⛪️That being said, it's not an often occurrence. Meeting and getting close to Luna and Mana and seeing Mitsuya's style of raising his siblings has really had a positive effect on Taiju.

⛪️If he hadn't become a restaurateur, Taiju would've loved to become a marine biologist since he loves ocean life. Or open his own Aquarium.

⛪️Taiju wants a traditional marriage with traditional gender roles. He will be the provider and leader of the household, and his wife will be the nurturer and support him and raise his children.

⛪️Regardless of his sexuality, this is what he wants. If he's gay, he'd still go this path for the sake of his religion. It's tragic.

⛪️Once the kids are grown enough to be on their own, Taiju wouldn't be opposed to his wife opening a home or online business. He thinks it's healthy, and - as she fulfilled her "required" role - she can do as she wishes. Obviously she keeps all her money. Taiju thinks it's shameful for a man to take money from his wife.

⛪️He's intolerant of other religions.

⛪️That being said, he doesn't confront people about it unless they do him first. But he will definitely mutter something bitter to himself if he sees preachers of other religions on the street.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

🔞NSFW:

📿 Tied with South for the biggest cock. Like, it's really just massive.

📿Circumsized ofc. Slight curve to the right. When he's hard, it's so heavy it hangs downwards.

📿Loves receiving oral because he knows it's too big to fit in most mouths. He enjoys that his partner is forced to suck, lick, and kiss around him. It's like he's being worshipped.

📿Was a virgin before marriage.

📿Loves pregnancy sex the most tbh. Something about it is just so hot to him. Just the thought of the fact that you're growing his kid inside of you turns him on, nonetheless the visual.

📿Taiju fucks fast and hard. BUT, if his wife asks for something more soft and loving, he will indulge her. He has no qualms about showing the person he is bound to until death a softer side if she wishes.

📿However...he will NOT sub. There isn't any point in which Taiju finds the idea of being dominated or being submissive as arousing. It's just not fun for him.

📿He can do any position, as long as he's the one in control. Ride him if you want, but he's the one who's going to be controlling the speed and movement.

[candychasse]

Hiii! I asked this question on the ‘Osana’ Reddit and you said you had more, SOOOO: What are all of your headcanons for the Male Rivals?? General Headcanons pretty pretty please :3

Haiii! Good to see you on here ^w^ & ofc!

(Also ignore the fact half of them don't get fun pictures or a gif I'm posting from the app lol xD)

General Male Rivals Head cannons!

Osano Najime

He is stupidly good at playground games (like rock paper scissors, go fish, etc) to the point where nobody wanted to play with him as a kid because they knew he'd win.

Favorite Pixar movie is inside out.

He actually is really good friends with Hanako. They both spend a ridiculous amount of money on blind bags together. And whenever Osano goes to the store he keeps an eye out for ones Hanako would like.

And Hanako has made him a friendship bracelet, which Osano being the tsundere he is, promptly pretended to hate it but still wears it as an anklet to this day.

Has helped organize fund raisers for local animal shelters and veterinary emergency rooms.

I feel like he has contact lenses and wore glasses in middle school. Whenever he's doing his judgemental stare his friends if he's put his contacts in that day.

He gets really into decorating and customizing his phone, like changes his whole layout, stick, phone charms, pop socket, app overlays, wallpaper, depending on what season it is.

Reads shojo manga but pretends to hate it.

^ his favorite is fruits basket

Amao Odayaka

One time he was at his great grandma's house making sourdough bread, and he accidentally slammed it on the old wooden counter so hard that he made a hole which the dough fell through to the cabinet shelf below. So not only did he break a counter he also had to scrap the whole batch. That memory haunts him and keeps him up at night.

Impulsively buys every apron he sees. He has a whole section of his closet purely dedicated to aprons.

Favorite movie is ratatouille, naturally.

He is uh, a little dense when it comes to social cues. He's nice don't get me wrong, just he isn't very good at getting sarcasm.

His favorite deserts to make are macarons and pound cake.

He has a love-hate relationship with the Gordon Ramsay show 'Hell's Kitchen' because he gets ridiculously mad at the condition the kitchens are always in. But he loves seeing the before and afters.

He runs the cooking club like a pirate ship tbh, he usually has to break up fights between the members. Except for Saki because she minds her own beeswax.

Kizano Sunobu

He has played many, many, roles in theater such as: The Wicked Stepmother From Cinderella, The Phantom of the opera, The Rat King, King George the third in Hamilton, and many more.

He can sing quite well, and took gymnastics lessons as a child so he could very much be considered a quadruple threat. (Singing, Acting, Dancing, and Acrobatics.)

Went to a preforming arts high school, but due to his family moving he had to transfer to Akademi.

His favorite animated movies are Leap! And Anastasia. Although he does have a love for old Disney aesthetics.

He has quite sensitive skin, being allergic to glycerin, so he has to be very particular about what products he buys.

Kizano plans on becoming a Broadway actor once he graduates, and because of that he is fluent in both Japanese and english, and is working on learning Spanish.

He really appreciates the club members who are stage hands, always making sure to thank them after every show.

While he is cocky, egotistical, and down right self centered at times, he does truly appreciate his club members.

He has some, interesting opinions on the other club leaders...

He likes and appreciates Amao, mainly because they both have an unyielding passion for their respective fields.

He hates and despises Asuo, because he finds him too relaxed and annoyingly positive.

He in fact does not know Oko exists.

Oko Ruto

Is very good at sewing due in part to the fact he likes to replace the button hole embroidery on his white shirts to a beige tone and the buttons to match his eyes, making it look like his buttons are eyeballs. Also because sewing comes in handy for occult/supernatural shenanigans.

Likes to visit graveyards to see if there's any intriguing tomb stones. Like funny last words, statues of the dead, intriguing ways a person died, ect.

^ he is very respectful though, only really approaching graves that are particularly old.

The occult club does more than just stalking students and summoning demons. they also practice ways to tell the future, speak to ghosts, birth chart and palm readings, and alien investigation night. (Held every other Tuesday.)

He watches BuzzFeed unsolved supernatural. Because weirdly enough true crime gives him the creeps but not ghosts and ghouls.

His favorite animated movies are, Spirited Away, Alice in wonderland, and Paranorman.

His father was a paranormal investigator, but has major Dale Gribble vibes so safe to say he runs an occult goods shop with tarot cards, oujia boards, future reading tea and eggs, and more now after being 'encouraged to retire'.

His mother is a practicing psychic who was actually brought in to help solve the murders at Akademi. She now runs an in store future reading service. Personality wise she's very much so like Jessica Rabbit, sweet charming, and a showman at heart.

Asuo Rito

This man seems like a golden retriever and he is, but sweet Lord does he not actually process his emotions. Everytime he gets upset over something he just throws himself further into training regiments.

Has like seven dogs currently and overall in his life he's had twenty.

Enjoys all sports but knows he should be focusing on just one, but he just can't pick. He enjoys track and field best, but that could just because that's what he wins the most medals for....

Took one martial arts lesson when he was ten and Budo accidentally broke his nose. Swore off martials arts ever since.

Speaking of which, childhood friends with Budo, although at first they didn't like each other because they were on opposing soccer teams.

He in fact does not know Kizano has one sided beef with him. He thinks of all the club leaders as his friends, except Kaga, he finds him creepy.

Favorite animated movie is the Incredibles.

Man is his and his teams own cheerleader, doing full on chants and cartwheels at swim meets.

^ has accidentally cartwheeled into the pool, DURING A RACE.

Mujo Kano

This man would make a better mortician than a nurse! He always gets hung up on fixing patients hair rather than filling out important paperwork.

Studying to be a pediatrician, specifically specializing in infants.

Has an unhealthy build a bear problem. He builds a bear every week and they have invaded his couch, bed, and shelves.

He is a walking disaster. Someone save him.

Osoro Shidesu

Chain smoker, no further elaboration.

He's weirdly stoic, like definitely not a party person, despite being a delinquent hooligan he reminds sorta like an old timey knight.

Rbf to the max, man came into this world with a scowl. There's not a single picture of him in his childhood where he doesn't look like a hell spawn.

Good at cooking in the same way a shady Denny's chef is good at cooking. Like cigarette in hand, cussing under his breath, while making the best funfeitti pancakes known to man.

It brings joy to his grinchy little soul to see a slug bug. Like in ironically giggles when he sees one.

Also thinks clowns are hilarious. In another life he'd be a shady circus owner.

He either has the cutest softest smile known to man, or the creepiest smirk ever.

Favorite animated movie, Up and lady and the tramp.

At his core he does believe in fairness. If a guy is harassing a waitress he won't hesitate to take him outside iykyk.

Hanako Yamada

Has gotten his arm stuck in an arcade machine after trying to just grab the plushie he wanted. The fire station was called and had to help get him out.

Wears keychains on his belt loops of his favorite characters like Keroppi, Hello Kitty and Mimi, and Happy from fairy tail.

Is actually not that social around those he doesn't know, personally I like to think he has some form of social anxiety which prevents from getting close to many people.

The reason why he dresses so cutely is that he figured that even if people stared at him, at least he'd know why rather than just being clueless.

Favorite animated movie is the toy story saga which he cries to every time he rewatches.

Really enjoys playing matchmaker with people he knows, for example in middle school he introduced his aunt to his homeroom teacher, leading for them to get married three years later.

Loves playing animal Crossing (and spending a ridiculous amount on leaf tickets in pocket camp)

Has an absurd amount of plushies, except he does know how to stack them properly to make it seem like he only has a few.

Is studying to be an architect or interior designer, he hasn't quite decided yet but he hopes to someday make homes that'll reflect his clients essence.

Has two pet hamsters, Hamtaro and Hamantha.

Megamo Saikou

Denser than cement when it comes to how much things cost. Not like business expenses because he's been trained for that, but he does think a loaf of bread costs twenty bucks.

Was a premature baby and had a heart problem causing him to be rushed into surgery nearly immediately after being born.

Would be studying to be a brain surgeon if he wasn't set in stone to inherit the company.

Actually rather appreciates the arts, such as art galleries and musical theater.

Favorite animated movie is sleeping beauty.

Likes to people watch, he finds it amusing to see how others live.

Is a horrible cook, like cannot make box Mac n cheese.

[syd-djarin]

Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter one: the new neighbors

*18+ Minors DNI*

Word count: ~2000+

Warnings: FLUFF, nervous reader, a hint of masturbation (f & m), neighbor!joel needs a warning, eventual smut

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

Author/s Notes: this is my first fic, so ofc I had to write Joel, and I have a weakness for neighbor!Joel.

this will be a series and I'm so excited to share this :) this is super self-indulgent, making reader based off myself so shameless self-insert kinda? lol

a huge thank you & ily to my babe @katiexpunk for helping me make edits/bouncing ideas and encouraging me to dive into writing <3

Tags: no outbreak AU, neighbor!joel, reader is sweetie pie, age gap (reader is mid-late 20's, joel is late 30's-early 40's in this), dilf!joel, gratuitous descriptions of joel being strong & sexy, f & m masturbation, eventual smut, fluff

AUSTIN, TX  OCT 2005

You’ve lived in this neighborhood for the majority of your life, with the exception of your time in college.

Now that you’ve finished your undergrad, your parents, now retired and living in Maine, have graciously offered for you to stay in your childhood home. It wouldn’t be forever, you think, just until something comes through for you to use your degree on.

The neighborhood hasn’t changed that much through the years; some of the houses got renovations or additions, although many of the homes were the same that they have always been. Many of the people living in the cul-de-sac had known you since you were just a baby, and like to remind you of that more often than you’d like. 

Occasionally a home would go up for sale, and it just so happened that the house directly across the street from yours was one of them – a classic blue Ranch style home, well maintained, albeit a bit outdated, but full of potential. The previous owners lived there for nearly four decades, and the entire neighborhood is antsy to solve the mystery of who’ll move in next.  

You had assumed that the next tenants would be another nuclear family type – the stereotypical, American family - husband, wife, two kids, the works. Much to your surprise, a single father and his daughter were the succeeding residents of the house. A ruggedly handsome single father, at that. 

+++

Move in day came for your new neighbors and just like everyone else who resided here, you couldn’t help but to be nosy, curiosity getting the best of you. 

You discreetly parted your living room blinds, your curiosity at its peak, as your new neighbors began unloading the hefty boxes from their U-Haul and settling into their new abode. You even went to check the mail to get a closer peek, despite having already checked it earlier in the day when it arrived.

You couldn’t help but ogle at the broad-shouldered man lifting boxes as if they weigh nothing. His dark gray t-shirt clings to his biceps for dear life and you feel your pussy involuntarily throb every time he lifts up the bottom of it, bringing it to his forehead to wipe the sweat collecting there, each time revealing his soft tummy and the dark hair that trailed down from his belly button. 

You imagine yourself holding onto those brawny arms, while he pounds- 

Oh my god, get a grip, you internally chastise yourself. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid, defending yourself for conjuring up dirty fantasies of a man whose name you didn’t even know. 

You decided you’d go introduce yourself once it appeared that they’d finished unloading the moving truck, not wanting to disrupt or cause an intrusion. 

Baking being one of your love languages, you decide to make your new neighbors your grandma's famous cookies – snickerdoodles and chocolate chip. The recipes don’t call for much, but your grandma swears it’s the love that goes into them that makes them as good as they are. She had taught you to bake at a young age; ensuring you knew the fundamentals, techniques, and the importance of quality ingredients.  She also taught you that the best gift you could give is a dessert, one that requires your time and attention. 

Besides wanting to be a welcoming neighbor, baking provides you with a necessary distraction to your nefarious thoughts about the new neighborhood DILF. Were these cookies for him, sure, but it proved to be quite a successful deterrent from your naughty thoughts, allowing you the space to fully engross yourself in the task of making the dough, folding in the chocolate chips, rolling the batches into little balls, and spacing them out evenly on the tray before popping them in the oven. 

After a couple of hours, the cookies now cool, and the warm autumn sun begins to set. Your home smells of warm sugar, a nostalgia that brings a smile to your face. You peek out the window and notice the moving truck is now gone, and figure now was as good a time as any to introduce yourself. 

You neatly package the goodies into their designated container, draw on your oversized flannel and shoes, and begin your brief trek across the street. As you begin walking down your porch steps you’re hit with a wave of nervousness,  your stomach does backflips and your heart beats faster. Get it together. You take several deep breaths and hold onto the cookie container a little tighter before continuing on your mission. Why are you such a nervous wreck? I mean, it’s just some guy, you (unsuccessfully) try to reason with yourself. 

Reaching the front door, you knock– tap, tap, tap. A brief moment passes, and the door opens, leaving only the space of the doorframe between you and a young girl with wide, curious eyes and beautiful curly brown hair staring back at you.

“Hi there, I’m your neighbor across the street,” you say, gesturing towards your own home, “I wanted to introduce myself – I brought you some cookies, just a little something to say welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Cookies! Ah sweet, I love cookies - what kind?” she asks, not at all trying to hide her fairly obvious interest for them and less in you.

“There’s chocolate chip and a few snickerdoodles,” you reply, giving her an amused smile. 

Her father, the devastatingly handsome one, makes his way up behind her and stands in the doorframe, halfway inside and halfway onto the porch where you stand. He was a sight to behold up close: dark hair that had a loose curls and a beard, both lightly dusted with some grays, chocolate brown eyes you could drown in, a mustache that perched atop plush lips. 

He’s muscled in the shoulders and arms, which act as a nice compliment to his soft torso. He had the kind of  physique that came from hard labor, which only fuels your attraction to him more. 

If this were a cartoon, you were sure your eyes would be bulging out of their sockets in the shape of hearts. 

“Oh, uh–hi,” you say, perhaps an octave too loud. “I was telling your daughter here that I brought over some cookies, you know, as a welcome gift,” you pause, realizing you hadn’t even introduced yourself. “I’m your neighbor, I live just across the way,” you say, nodding to your house. You turn back to face him and fidget with your hair. Through a nervy smile, you manage to give him your name. 

“I’m Joel, this here’s Sarah,” he says, voice gruff and smooth at the same time. He holds out his hand to shake yours. You hope he wouldn’t notice how sweaty your hand is; maybe it’s the nerves, or the still-sticky Texan air, despite it being October. Probably both.  

His palm is warm; worn and calloused in some places, but firm and inviting. You couldn’t help but gawk at how small he made your hand feel in his. He releases your grip; bringing you out of your brief trance, and your eyes once again meet. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Joel and Sarah,” you smile and hold out the container of cookies for Joel to take. Before he can even reach up to grab them, Sarah already has her hands on them and has run back into the house, murmuring something that sounds like thanks as she does. 

He had just met you, but Joel couldn’t deny how much he likes hearing you saying his name in your gentle, nectarous voice. 

Your hands now empty, you nervously interlace your fingers and twirl your thumbs, unsure of what to say next. Joel’s eyes take note of the smudge of flour on your cheek – cute. He also notices the flour in the cleft of your cleavage, but he tries not to make that fact obvious. The flour between your breasts stares back at him, but he collects his composure, averting his gaze back to you.  He should point it out to you, he thinks, but you seem shy and he doesn’t want to embarrass you, or scare you away from wanting to come over again. 

“‘Preciate the cookies, sweetheart,” he says, voice low. His eyes stay glued to your face. You avert your eyes downwards and cross your arms, buckling under the weight of his gaze. You felt your cheeks and chest grow hot at his use of sweetheart. 

“I’m just – uh,” you trip over your words, nervous, “I’m just across the street if you need me,” you offer, giggling at the suggestive way that sounds, “you know, like a cup of sugar or anything like that,” you add.

Joel nods in reply, edges of his mouth coming up in a smirk as if to acknowledge your kindness, being careful not to full on grin in amusement of his apparent effect on you. 

“Same to you,” he says before closing the door, perhaps eyeing you a moment too long as you walk away. He turns to enter the house, only to find Sarah staring at him, cookie in hand, and a knowing grin on her face.

“Why didn’t you tell her she had flour all over herself?” she asks, teasing, like she could already tell he was embarrassed to admit the truth. 

“Did she? Hmm, didn’t seem to notice,” he says, trying to hide the lie behind a weak cough, before walking away, cheeks obviously flushed. 

Back in the safety of your own home, you come to a still with your hand pressing on the door, reeling from your interaction with Joel. You were wired up, buzzing with arousal and nerves. 

And God, the way he called you sweetheart. 

You replay the moment over and over in your head, not wanting to forget his Texan twang or the way he looked at you when he said it. You could have died, right then and there. You let your mind run wild, thinking of all the things you wanted to do with him, what you wanted to do to him. 

Needing to relieve the throbbing ache in between your legs, you decide a shower is in order. When stepping into your bathroom, you catch yourself in the mirror. You were mortified at the discovery of the flour on your face and chest. You had been so engrossed with baking the cookies and too anxious about taking them over to Joel’s that you failed to give yourself a once-over in the mirror before heading out the door. The arousal you felt temporarily held precedent, you’d process your embarrassment later. 

You step into the steamy shower and touch yourself, thinking of Joel. You shove two fingers inside your pussy, imagining they were Joel’s long, thick, dexterous fingers. 

Little did you know Joel was having his own feelings about your little introduction. 

Several of his new neighbors come to introduce themselves in the coming days, under the guise of welcoming him and his daughter, but in reality, they wanted to get scoop on who they were. Where had they moved from, what prompted the move, we’re they planning on staying short-term, what did he do for a living, was there a Mrs. Joel Miller? And once they found out he was a contractor, there were a whole other set of questions of “would you mind taking a look at my ____”. 

He liked the neighborhood, and while the people were nice and seemingly mean well, Joel begins to feel irritation at the consistently prying questions, annoyed that people felt like they were entitled answers to begin with. 

But you. 

He was not expecting you. 

Beautiful, endearing, kind eyes, a smile he thought could end wars. You had been sweet and respectful, and didn't appear to have ulterior motives. It made his heart palpitate and sent blood rushing somewhere he knew it shouldn’t. You were young, too young and sweet, too sweet for a man like him. 

Then he saw how you stared at his hands, grew warm and shy when his gaze had lingered too long on you. 

That night, with Sarah tucked into bed, he grabs one of the snickerdoodle cookies, Sarah insisting that he save all of the chocolate chip ones for her, but he doesn’t mind; snickerdoodles are his favorite. 

He bites into the soft cookie, his eyes fluttering shut as he does, an involuntary reaction to the sweet, perfectly soft texture. He lets out a moan, the kind that is elicited when tasting something delicious. 

And the fact that you made them? The thought sends blood straight to his dick. 

Joel, in inner turmoil, was trying to resist the temptation to touch himself to the thought of you. God, if your cookies were this good, so sweet and fluffy, how good would you taste. 

The thought consumes him, the temptation too strong. 

He polishes off more than three of the cookies, before heading to shower. That night he takes his cock in his fist to the thought of you, and your stupidly delicious fucking cookies. 

Joel was a gentleman, sure, but he was also a man. 

And the best way to get to a man’s heart? 

Through his stomach. 

THE END