#YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE SO ON THE NOSE ABOUT IT

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Double The Cravings*

a/n: this was a request by @cicicavill7 (sorry i didn't post the entire ask it was too long 😭😭😭😭😭)

Summary: you're very pregnant, and harry has to go to a fundraiser. you don't feel like eating because of your growing body, feeling insecure but harry's always there to take care of his pretty pregnant girl.

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: smut, fluff. mentions of pregnancy, insecurities. p in v sex, sex while pregnant, creampie, aftercare, kissing.

*

"You look absolutely stunning, darling." 

Harry's warm breath tickled the shell of your ear as his arms wound around your waist from behind. His large hands came to rest reverently on the swell of your pregnant belly, cradling the twins you were carrying. 

You bit your lip, smoothing the silky fabric of your dress down self-consciously. While you didn't doubt Harry's sincerity, it was getting harder to feel confident about your changing body lately. Your cravings had been intense and unrelenting, and you felt like you were gaining more weight than a typical pregnancy.

"You really think so?" you asked, unable to mask the uncertainty in your tone as you examined your reflection again. "I feel like this dress is getting a bit snug..."

Harry's brow furrowed, and he turned you to face him, tilting your chin up with one finger. "Of course I think so. Have you looked at yourself? You're glowing, Y/N. Absolutely radiant carrying our babies."  

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose against yours affectionately. "I've never seen anything more beautiful than you right now, my pregnant little wife."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, ducking your head bashfully. It was getting more difficult to accept the compliments the further along you got. Your hormones were all over the place and you felt big and awkward rather than the radiant fertility goddess Harry seemed to see.

Sensing your reticence, Harry cupped your face in his large hands, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "I'm serious. You're so bloody gorgeous, Y/N, especially with this new lush, curvy figure of yours." His eyes burned with sincerity and...something darker as they raked over your body. "Gonna let me show you later just how much I appreciate these new assets?"

Despite your fluttering nerves, you felt desire curl low in your belly at the rumbling promise in his gravelly tone. Harry always had a way of making you feel utterly desirable and worshipped.

"If you insist," you murmured demurely, though you knew he could see the want simmering behind your eyes.

Harry groaned, ducking to capture your lips in a searing kiss. "Cheeky girl. You know I do." He punctuated his words with nibbling bites along your jaw. "Going to cherish every new inch of you, angel."

A fluttering in your stomach prevented you from getting too carried away. You placed a hand over Harry's where they still cradled your bump.

"Alright, alright, down boy," you giggled breathlessly. "We've got somewhere to be, remember? And these two are getting impatient."

Chuckling, Harry pressed one more smoldering kiss to the corner of your mouth before releasing you. "Fair point. Shall we, my pregnant goddess?"

With a wink, he offered his arm which you took with an eye roll and a fond smile. Despite your persisting insecurities, you felt reassured by his doting attention as you exited your bedroom.  

This fancy fundraiser gala had been on your schedule for months, a can't-miss event Harry had been looking forward to all year. You'd been nervous about going, worried people would judge your ever-expanding figure. But Harry had been adamant that you were going to shine like the stunning, fertile vision you were. Now you were just hoping you could make it through without any embarrassing incidents.

Your breath caught as soon as you stepped into the opulent ballroom of the posh venue, immediately feeling underdressed and frumpy next to the glamour of the high society crowd milling about. 

Harry, always in tune with your wavering confidence, leaned over to murmur in your ear. "Try to relax, love. You're the most beautiful woman in the room, and not a single person here holds a candle to you carrying my children."

You flushed at his ardent assurance, trying to calm your nerves as he led you toward the refreshments. Of course, not five minutes after arriving, the doubts began creeping back in. 

All of the hors d'oeuvres being offered were deliciously unhealthy, aromas of rich foods and sharp spices assaulting your sensitive, pregnant senses. Your mouth watered just looking at the arrays of canapes, bruschetta, sliders, and mini quiches laid out enticingly. 

But your hormonal self-consciousness quickly took over. You worried about stuffing your face and exploding right out of this tight dress, about people watching you pile food onto your plate and whispering behind your back. About looking sloppy and out of control.

So despite the intense cravings rumbling in your stomach, you shyly waved off the passing servers offering treats and settled for sipping some water and nibbling on a few breadsticks. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Harry frowning in concern, his brows drawing together as he watched you avoid most of the appetizers. But he didn't comment, simply squeezing your hand reassuringly and turning to engage in conversation with some donors.

As the evening wore on, your stomach was grumbling so loudly you feared passersby could hear it over the music and mingling voices. Your cravings were getting worse by the minute as you tried desperately to ignore mouthwatering aromas wafting all around. You pressed one palm against your belly, rubbing soothing circles as the babies kicked in protest.

"I know, I know," you whispered, feeling guilty already. You didn't want to deprive your little ones of anything, but the thought of stuffing yourself in front of all these judgemental rich folk had you paralyzed.  

You jumped slightly at the feeling of a large hand settling over yours on your bump.

"Everything okay?" Harry ducked his head close, green eyes full of concern as he searched your face. "You've hardly eaten anything all night. Are you feeling ill?"

You bit your lip, averting your gaze briefly as you weighed whether or not to open up to him. After a beat, you decided there was no sense in hiding it; Harry could always see right through you anyway.

"No, it's not that exactly. It's just..." You sighed, gesturing vaguely around the ballroom. "I feel so out of place here. Like everyone's judging me for how big I've gotten already. If I gorge myself on all the food I want, I'll probably tip right over."

A soft, sad look flashed across Harry's face. "Oh, my sweet girl." He pulled you gently into his arms, stroking a soothing hand down your back. "Is that why you've barely touched your plate tonight? Because you're self-conscious?"

You nodded against his chest, comforted by his solid warmth and the faint whiff of his cologne amidst the richer scents of the food. "I know it's ridiculous. I should be listening to my body's needs, not worrying about stupid societal expectations. But I just...I feel huge already, and my cravings have been so intense this pregnancy. I'm scared if I give in, especially to this rich food, I'll get even bigger and--"

"Y/N." Harry pulled back, cupping your cheeks to force you to meet his suddenly intense gaze, brow furrowed sternly. "You listen to me right now, alright? That's nonsense and I won't hear another word about it."

You swallowed thickly at the fierceness in his expression, heat pooling in your belly at the hint of that commanding "dad" tone you'd come to crave during your pregnancy.

"You are...stunning. Incredible," Harry breathed, his warm hands drifting down to splay reverently over your belly, like it was the most precious thing he'd ever held. "Have you looked at yourself lately? You're absolutely glowing, every inch of you fuller and softer and just...exquisite." 

His voice lowered to that rumbly timbre that could have you melting even at your horniest. "It's been a struggle to keep my hands off you as you fill out, love. Seeing you all lush and fertile like this..." He groaned softly, burning gaze raking over your body. "It's everything to me, and don't you dare deprive yourself or our babies with these silly hang ups."

You were panting softly by this point, squirming under his heated stare and the blunt weight of his words. Your arousal was a thick, heavy thing thrumming through your veins as Harry laid his desires out before you.

Harry's lips quirked in a heated, knowing smirk. He leaned in close, his plush mouth brushing the shell of your ear. "So I'm going to take you around this buffet...and pile both our plates high with anything and everything you've been craving, my insatiable girl."

A shudder rippled through you at the low, gravelly promise in his voice. Harry nipped at your earlobe teasingly before pulling back, satisfaction glinting in those emerald depths as he took in your flushed cheeks and parted lips. He knew exactly how to unravel you.

"Then tonight, after we get home..." Harry's large hand drifted down to palm your lower belly, fingers splaying possessively. "I'm going to worship every new lush inch of you. Indulge my own cravings for this luxurious fertile body of yours."

You bit your lip on a small whimper, already aching for his touch. This man would be the absolute death of you.

Chuckling darkly, Harry slid his hand into yours and began leading you back towards the lavish buffet spread. Your cravings had reached a fever pitch between his heated words and the enticing aromas surrounding you. Hunger and arousal swirled dizzily within your core.

True to his promise, Harry loaded up two plates with every kind of indulgent treat - rich canapes dripping with cheese and pesto, crispy bacon-wrapped prawns, creamy mushroom vol-au-vents, and far too many miniature quiches and savory tarts to count. When you tried to protest the overflowing portions, he merely fixed you with a stern look until you subsided.

Finally, when not another morsel could be crammed on, Harry handed you your precarious tower of food with a soft smile.

"There we are, my perfect girl," he murmured, stroking a knuckle down your flushed cheek. "Now eat up for me, won't you? Gotta keep your strength up for later."

You swallowed thickly, throat suddenly dry under the heated promise in those guileless green eyes. "Yes, Harry."

The next hour or so passed in a lush, sensual haze. You found a quiet corner to tuck yourselves into, allowing you to relax and satiate your fierce cravings under Harry's reverent, watchful gaze.

With each sinful bite, each savory indulgence on your tongue, you felt your nerves melting away, replaced by the most delicious anticipation. Especially when Harry's eyes would hungrily track the movement of your lips around each morsel, his large hands roaming possessively over the swell of your belly and newly full curves.

More than once, his deft fingers slipped a decadent bite past your lips, emerald gaze darkening in blatant lust each time you laved your tongue along the thick pads to clean away any lingering flavor.

By the time your second plate was nearly cleaned, a delicious lassitude had settled over your limbs. You were absolutely stuffed and sated, the fierce edge finally shorn off your hunger. You felt...content. Sexy, even, the way Harry's heated stare roved over your figure.

Sitting back with a small sound of satiation, you let your free hand drift down to caress your rounded belly. You could've sworn you felt the twins doing pleased little flips and kicks within, satisfied by your indulgence. You smiled tenderly, lifting your eyes to find Harry watching you with naked adoration glowing in his gaze.

"Look at you," he murmured reverently, using his thumb to gently wipe away a stray crumb from the corner of your mouth. "Positively radiant and plump, my gorgeous, well-fed queen."

Then, to your utter delight and arousal, he leaned over and pressed a lingering, openmouthed kiss to the swell of your stomach, humming in contentment. "We'll have to ensure we get you home soon...I have some urgent worshiping of my own to take care of."

By the time you finally tumbled through the door of your flat, lips swollen and gasping from the heated make-out session during the Uber ride, you were both achingly worked up.

No sooner had Harry kicked the door shut behind you than he was pressing you into the wall, large hands roaming greedily over your body. The sound of your muffled moan against his mouth only spurred him on, his grip tightening possessively on your hips.

When you finally parted, panting, his eyes were blown wide with sheer animal need. Harry wasted no time in shucking his jacket and tie, practically tearing apart the buttons of his shirt before moving on to divesting you of your clothes.

Your dress was peeled down over your curves and dropped unceremoniously to the floor in Harry's haste. Soon you were bare before him, the crisp air caressing your flushed, overheated skin and the delicious ache between your thighs.

Harry hissed out a breath, strong hands mapping the lush new terrain of your body with unbridled reverence. He swallowed hard enough for you to see his throat work convulsively.

"Fucking perfection," he grated roughly. His palms smoothed over the gentle swell of your belly, fingers splaying in wonder before sliding up to cup the full, sensitive weight of your tender breasts.

A strangled sound escaped your lips as he rolled the pebbled peaks between his fingertips, the jolt of sensation arrowing straight between your legs.

"Look at you, love," Harry crooned, nudging your thighs apart to slide one thick, muscular thigh between them. You cried out softly, canting your hips to ride the delicious friction provided by his leg. "All lush and fertile and utterly exquisite. Made to be lavished and cherished. To be devoured."

His mouth was on yours again, hot and wild and devouring you just as promised. You dimly felt him undoing his trousers, kicking them and his pants aside until he was finally as bare as you.

Then Harry was everywhere His huge hands spanned your back in a heated caress as his mouth mapped every new heavenly curve and swell of your body. His broad shoulders rippled between your splayed thighs, tongue swirling hotly over your peaked nipples until you were mewling. And still he paid reverence to your heavy, aching breasts and rounded belly, pressing fervent, worshipful kisses over every inch.

By the time the slick, insistent pressure of his cock nudged against your dripping entrance, you were already trembling all over, heat coiled impossibly tight in your core.

"Let me properly cherish you, my queen," Harry rumbled, the words a gravelly prayer as he slowly, achingly buried himself to the hilt within your welcoming heat. You both groaned in unison, your walls fluttering maddeningly around his thick length as he stretched and filled you completely.

That first slow drag nearly had you shattering right then and there. Each thick inch of Harry's cock glided along every perfectly swollen, sensitive inch of you as he thrust home, dragging against that sweetest spot inside over and over again.

His large hands cupped your ass, hips rolling in a torturously languid grind, burying himself deeper with every unhurried stroke. He was devouring you from the inside out, cherishing every silken inch, and the utter reverence in his gaze as he drank in your pleasure had you spiraling higher.

When one hand came up to cup the flushed, damp curve of your cheek, the tender intimacy of it nearly undid you.

"I love you," Harry breathed, mouth finding yours in a claiming, soul-deep kiss as his hips picked up their pace, driving into you with reckless abandon now. "All of you, every lush curve. My everything, my goddess, my gorgeous wife. Mine."

You were powerless against the tide of sensation and emotion Harry wrung from you, spiraling higher and quaking apart on a broken cry of his name. Your climax swamped you with blinding pleasure, pulling Harry right over that dizzying edge with you as your convulsive inner walls dragged him under.

He buried his face in the curve of your neck with a soul-deep groan, hips jerking erratically as he poured himself into you. You clung to him as if he was the only thing anchoring you to this world while wave after wave of bliss wracked your joined forms.

By the time the tremors finally began to ebb, you were both slumped bonelessly against the wall, sweaty and utterly spent. Harry shifted just enough to pull you more securely into his arms, face still buried in your neck as you both caught your breath.

Gradually, he began nuzzling soft, reverent kisses along the slope of your shoulder, across your collarbone, up the column of your neck. His large hands stroked soothingly over your back, your sides, cradling you close against his solid warmth.

"My everything," Harry murmured, the words a hushed vow against your overheated skin. "So incredible, so loved."

You hummed softly in contentment, nosing into the damp curls at his temple as you basked in the afterglow. Despite the lingering tremors shooting through your limbs, you felt completely at peace bundled in Harry's embrace.

One of his hands drifted down to settle over the swell of your belly, fingertips tracing idle patterns across the taut skin. "Thank you, darling," he said quietly. "For taking such wonderful care of our littles ones. For giving me this precious gift."

Tilting your head, you met his shining emerald gaze with a tender smile. "As if you need to thank me for that. This—" You placed your hand atop his, cradling the firm roundness. "This is our gift, H. One I'll never stop being grateful for."

Harry's face did that crinkly thing where his eyes squinted with the force of his smile. Leaning in, he brushed his lips sweetly, reverently across yours.

"I love you incredibly, Y/N. Every inch of you, always."

Those words, combined with the sheer depth of adoration in his gaze, had your heart turning over in your chest. You tucked yourself further into his solid frame, relishing his strength and the soothing drag of his fingers over your sated body.

"I love you too," you whispered. "More than anything."

You stayed like that for a long while, trading soft caresses and murmured endearments, until Harry insisted on getting you into a warm bath to relax properly. He drew the water himself while you waited on the plush bed, arranging the tray of sumptuous treats leftover from the gala.

When he emerged wearing only a towel slung low on his hips, you felt your breath catch at the sheer masculine beauty of him. Harry merely quirked an amused brow at your reaction before holding out one large hand.

"Shall we, gorgeous? I'll even feed you those petit fours you've been eyeing, if you'reopen to it."

You took his proffered hand with a giggle, allowing him to lead you to the ensuite bathroom where aromatic oils wafted through the air and the enormous tub awaited. Harry situated you between his legs, your back to his chest, before plucking one of the miniature chocolate cakes from the tray nearby.

He presented the treat before your lips with a soft, "Open up, darling," and you obliged with a smug grin. The rich sweetness melted over your tongue as you accepted each bite Harry slipped past your lips with careful reverence.

Eventually, you drifted off into a light doze, replete and cocooned in Harry's tender embrace. He continued soothing you with quiet praise and gentle caresses, not even bothering to rouse you until the bath water started to cool.

You awoke to Harry murmuring instructions to dry off and slip into some comfy pajamas. He watched you through hooded eyes as you complied, admiring the new softness and curves that pregnancy had gifted you. With a tender smile, he ushered you back toward the bedroom, already turned down and cozy.

As you snuggled beneath the plush duvet, Harry slid in behind you, his chest warm against your back and one large palm splaying over the firm swell of your belly. You sighed in pure contentment, feeling cherished and utterly adored.

"I meant what I said earlier, you know," Harry rumbled, the words a quiet rumble against your nape. His thumb stroked soothing arcs over your stomach. "This new lush, fertile body of yours is utter perfection. I'll never stop worshipping it, worshipping you."

You bit your lip on a pleased smile, arching back against his solid frame. His free hand slid around to cup your breast, and you shivered at the careful, weighted touch.

"Let me take such good care of you both," he murmured, ducking his head to trail kisses along the sensitive curve of your neck as he cradled your heavy breast. "Make sure you stay well-fed in every way, satisfied, comfortable...like the goddesses you are."

With a blissful sigh, you melted fully into Harry's tender embrace. Every word, each featherlight caress was a balm to the lingering worries of your earlier self-consciousness. He adored this pregnancy body - round and soft and beautiful - and you knew he would move heaven and earth to ensure you felt utterly cherished and revered through it all.

Safe and loved in Harry's arms, you allowed your eyes to slip closed once more, reassured that whatever cravings or changes came next, you wouldn't face them alone. You'd meet them together.

*

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[teddybeartoji]

彡 FEEDING AS A FORM OF LOVE

☆. contains: 18+ mdni; tiger hybrid!ryomen sukuna x housecat hybrid gn!reader x toji fushiguro; ???? they eat raw meat hehe, this is just very horny, dubcon-ish moments? tjkn, also. sukuna is down bad. wc: 2k

toji takes good care of the both of you. he goes out of his way to make sure that his cats are well fed. every morning he goes to the market to buy the best quality meat – the blonde haired butcher already knows him, he's ready for him. they exchange a few words over the cuts and wish each other well. they're friends.

back at home, his two cats wait for him. kuna's wet, rough tongue runs up and down alongside the side of your neck, your jaw, your chin. this is another part of your morning routine – he grooms and cleans you, gets you ready for toji. sure, he loves it when you do the same to you, but there's something addicting about the way you try to squirm away from his love.

the door clicks open, signaling that toji is finally home and you immediately try to look for him but kuna's grip on your middle is just too strong.

"ryo..." your tiny hands push at his broad chest and he's about to tell you to be quiet but his thoughts get interrupted by the smell of fresh meat. his body reacts all on its own, he can't help it. the irony, bloody scent enters his nostrils and he lets out a deep groan; the vibrations of it run through your own body and your thighs tighten around his waist subconsciously. a few feet away – toji taps his foot impatiently, mossy eyes sticking to the pair before him. he takes in the sight of sukuna towering over you, almost covering you fully with his massive body. he hates how hard the size difference makes him – you look fucking tiny next to kuna and you look even smaller when you're down on your knees between his thighs, when his heavy cock rests on your face.

(but toji wants to play with you, too. there's no way he'll ever just let him have you.)

at the sound of toji clearing his throat, sukuna pulls back with a smirk. you look disheveled and he wants to laugh – he was just trying to clean you up, wasn't he? silly kitty. he'll have to do it all over again later.

when he does finally let you swivel out from under him, you waste no time in running to toji. you nuzzle your face into his chest, his arms and back, as a way of letting him know that you missed him, despite the fact that he was gone only for an half an hour or so. he likes the attention; he sends kuna a tempting smirk while patting your head as the latter pushes himself to sit up on the couch.

toji's musk and the smell of the red meat, kuna's saliva on your neck, the tingling marks he left on your hips – it's all sending heat waves to your lower tummy. a different type of hunger. your fuzzy tail twirls around toji's bicep and he grumbles something under his breath. you don't hear it. you're busy closing your eyes and rubbing your face into his back muscles instead. a purr rumbles from your chest and toji's scarred lips stretch even wider; this is normal for them – to be squabbling over you, their little kitty.

(you love it.)

"c'mon, ya gotta eat, yeah?"

toji's voice is so soothing, so comforting; you want to sit on his lap forever. his eyes are soft when he looks at you, incredibly so, and that makes sukuna's ears tilt backward with a scoff. don't you know he looks at you the same way?

(kind of the same way anyway.)

kuna's tail finds yours and you inch closer to him as you make your way to the dinner table. you bump your head against his arm and he rasps out a "brat". you grin up at him and he thinks about eating you instead.

taking seats opposite of each other, you wait for toji to place the meals in front of you. the smell is intoxicating. your insides grumble and so do his, your teeth itch and so do his. his nose twitches at the sound of toji throwing the pieces onto the platter and then he can already see him approaching from the corner of his eye.

raw. bloody. awaiting.

it's almost the size of the damn platter – it's barely enough for him. he's big and he needs to eat big, but he'll complain about it later. sometime when toji's distracted by your pretty face, sometime when he can easily whisper into his ear, sometime when he's just about ready to say yes to everything. he's not as strong as he makes himself out to be.

kuna eyes the cut toji places in front of you. a small smile etches its way onto your lips and he can see the hunger in your eyes. but then he can't help but compare the two of you. your heights, the sizes of your meals. you're just a little cat, eating a portion that's a mere sliver out of his own. you're going to bite it, you're going to chew and you're going to look adorable.

a tug on his fuzzy tail snaps his out of his head. "stop starin'."

his ears tilt back again at the sight of toji's mocking smirk, but he holds back on the bark. he wants to eat already.

and so he does.

lunging at the platter, he grabs the piece of meat into his hands as if his meal is still alive, as if it's going to run away. his sharp claws sink into the soft flesh and you can't pull your eyes from him. you watch as he tears a chuck off of it, you watch him gnaw on it with his big teeth. his chin is covered in the liquid that seeps from the fresh meat, it trickles down his jaw and neck before disappearing under his open-collared shirt.

he always eats like this. messily.

always.

his teeth are so much bigger than yours are, and you're painfully aware of that when you lick the canines in your mouth. you're salivating. drool collects under your tongue as you stare and stare and stare. your breathing has picked up a little, your heart racing in your ribcage and you've started to lean forward a bit too. you don't even realize how he's pulling you in.

but toji...

toji can't stop looking at you.

he's leaning against the kitchen counter just a few feet away and his heart races the same way yours does. he couldn't care any less for kuna in this very moment, his eyes are fixated on the little kitty creeping toward the feral beast. he sees the little tilt of your head, the way your tail sways from side to side, the slight twitch of your ears as you listen to the man in front of you eat his heart out. toji is just as transfixed by the sight before him as you are.

(this is love.)

eyes blown wide, your lips part on instict when sukuna goes for another bite.

mouth still full, he splutters. "look at you, little kitty."

you blink up at him, unsure where he's going with this.

"is the piece too big for you and your measly, tiny teeth?"

he chews loudly just to push you even further, teasing eyes glued to your wide ones. "want toji to cut it up for you since you can't do it yourself?"

it's not like you're eating a meal like this for the first time - the difference being the fact that he can smell you right now. something is happening in that brain of yours, in the depths of your stomach and kuna desires to take you apart and take a proper look. are you really getting turned on by just watching him eat? do you like it? do you love it? are you pushing your thighs together right now? are you thinking about him devouring you like this?

surprise fades from your eyes and you furrow your brows instead. you're not scared of him, nor will you let him tease you like this. your teeth are not measly, you are not little! you can eat just like him and you will prove it to him!

his bloody grin stretches wider when he sees the fight in you build. he did half expect you to pout and sulk a little, but this is a million times better. he likes a challenge, he likes it when you scratch and hiss. his tail sways a bit faster at the thought, his eyes grow bigger.

sukuna knows that toji wants to see this as well. he knows he likes your snarky attitude as much as he does. he knows he's half hard in his pants right now.

he's about to mock you some more but when your tiny teeth pierce the raw flesh, his words get stuck in his throat. you're holding the cut just like he is, nails sinking into it just like his are. juice flows like water down your hands and forearms, your jaw and neck and something in him burns. your nose scrunches up in the cutest way as you continue to chomp down on the meat, pulling and tearing pieces after pieces from it.

he can see you struggling just a bit – your teeth still aren't sharp enough, big enough, to really be like him but he doesn't comment on it. you hold onto his gaze like it's life or death; he will watch you eat.

the grip toji has on the countertop is almost enough to break the damn thing. just like sukuna, he's mesmerized by the glorious sight before him – messy and borderline feral. they're watching their beloved housecat turn into a feral one in real time and it's the most erotic thing either of them have ever seen.

pinkish liquid coats the entirety of the lower half of your face, it keeps trickling down your arms – there's no end to it. it tastes so fucking good.

and then they hear it.

a purr.

at first toji thinks that it's sukuna but it's way to weak to be him, which means it's... coming from you.

their eyes on you feel almost overwhelming, the taste is divine and you feel fucking amazing. thighs clenching together and tail swaying low behind you, you hum as you swallow another piece.

the chair screeches against the floorboards and you don't even have the time to react, head hazy from everything that's going on, so the next thing you know, big hands grab your face and tilt it upward - kuna's tongue presses through your willing lips as he licks into your mouth. it's so big, it's so prickly, it feels weird. it feels... like heaven.

he can taste you and the meal you just had, he can taste your every want and desire. he scratches behind your ear with his nails and he feels you melt into him. his little cat.

he wants to go further but a strong shove against his shoulder stops him from doing so.

"move."

you can't even open your eyes properly before another pair of hands cradle your jaw and lean forward to close the distance between you. lips on lips, you feel his scar and the smile he gives you. your tongues dance together. dirty fingers paw at toji's lower stomach and he grumbles into your mouth. hungry.

more, more, more.

warmth engulfs toji's back and kuna's sharp claws trail over the waistband of toji's pants while he leaves sloppy, wet kisses on the nape of his neck. their hips are flush together and toji can feel kuna's raging boner pressing up against his ass.

but that doesn't matter right now.

sukunas fingers card through toji's dark, unruly hair as he drops down to the floor and kneels between your thighs without ever breaking the kiss. his hands glide from your cheeks to your neck, pulling you deeper into him with a swift motion. he's hungry, too.

he squeezes the tops of your thighs, and you whine into his mouth. so sensitive. he tugs on the waistband of your shorts, eager fingers dipping under the fabric in excitement—

it's his time to eat now.

+ thank you @lxnarphase for hyping me up i love you sm lunniee:333

[risuola]

ENTRY #14 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // You taught me to feel and it overwhelmed me.

contents: arranged marriage!au, nsfw, virgin!reader, reader discretion is advised — wc. 4224

a/n: this series is my baby, i love it so much so please don't mind me posting for it so often, but here goes the long awaited smut entry — enjoy!

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It’s beautiful.

Despite the clouds, the sky still hints some pinks; the orange hues of sunset peeking through the grey fluffy layers that sparsely canopied above, a tell-tale of late hours and looming night. The air is warm and humid, thick with scent of grass and dew and somewhere, far in the distance, a thunder rumble. And then, warm, summer mist of raindrops starts to fall — cool and refreshing, a pleasant relief from the sweltering heat. It feels calm, soothing as the smell of rain makes its way up the atmosphere.

Or maybe it’s you.

You’re there, basking in the serene atmosphere and Satoru thinks you’ll get sick from it, but he doesn’t stop you. You are too beautiful. Smiling and spreading your arms, reaching your face up towards the sky and he watches you, allows you the relief, allows himself to commit the picture of you to memory.

Thin fabric of your dress clings to your body; peaks of hair stick to your forehead and neck but you seem so careless, so happy — he envies you, he envies those strands, he envies the cotton. Your feet are bare, shoes long gone as you stroll through the green meadow, as if all the care of the world had suddenly disappeared. The meeting you’ve both been on just hours ago forgotten, now it’s you and him in the middle of nowhere.

You notice him staring, he’s way too obvious, but you smile at him and he forgets about the world around. “Turn it off,” you speak softly, your voice like silk, and you reach your hands up to cup his dry face.

For a moment, he looks at you, studies you — the way raindrops cling to your skin, to your eyelashes; how they trace the curves of your cheeks and nose, only to drip from the tip of it. He follows the one that makes it lower, languidly running down your cupid’s bow and onto your lips and then, he leans in, kissing it away and letting go of everything but you.

Raindrops are pitter-pattering against his skin and it’s foreign. Clothes grow heavier and goosebumps scatter across his form, but Gojo isn’t entirely sure if it’s because of the rain running down his spine or you in his arms. Maybe it’s you; your fingers teasing at the nape of his neck, nails running through the undercut and your body pressed to his own, your mouth against his mouth.

His eager tongue darts out, seeking permission at the seam of your lips and you part them, allowing him in. The kiss deepens into a tango of passion; an addicting kind of dance that ignites a fire within him and the cool drizzle no longer feels refreshing. Taste of rain mingles with the sweet flavor of you and Satoru’s heart is pounding in his chest, matching the rhythm of raindrops pelting your bodies. Your clothes are soaked, but neither of you seem to mind as you pull yourselves closer.

He wraps his arms around you, tracing the shapes of your hips and back. The warmth of your body pressed into his chest is contrasting vividly with the cold shower from heavens and he craves more. His breath catches in his throat as you reach to unbutton his jacket, your dainty fingers dealing swiftly with the gold button and the zipper — then you pull it off and he lets you, following your movements like an obedient puppy he sheds the outer layer only to have your hands run across his bare skin. The short sleeve sticks to his frame, cotton losing its softness and he feels the sprinkle hitting his back, his arms and neck. It’s running down his body, trickling his muscles and making him shiver in nothing but anticipation.

He grips the fabric of your dress; nervous fingers searching for the zipper and he feels you smiling against his lips. Then you pull, cause him to bend, to sink onto the wet grass and he’s got you on top of his lap. You swallow the gasp that left his mouth and he’s too eager to break the kiss, burning with want and losing his mind over the feel of your weight resting on him.

You’re smiling, panting but not missing a beat in the way you touch him. You explore his shoulders, his back and chest. His needy hands are gripping your sides, running up and down your back as they inch towards the fastener lined with your spine and you moved, tracing his jawline with kisses, savoring the whimpers that barely stand out over the monotonous buzzing of the rain and soft swooshes of wind dancing in the foliage. You kiss his neck, nip at the sensitive spots, discovering them along the way and then, you tug at his t-shirt to reach more of his collarbone and shoulder.

Satoru pulls at the zipper, too harsh, too desperate, but you don’t mind. Your frame shakes gently with giggle and he chuckles too. He loves you. It’s a thought that pops up in his mind for a while now, he loves your smile, your laugh, your taste. You had become a center to his universe, your orbit the only one he wished to follow. Is it weakness? He doesn’t feel weak.

He’s eager, pulling at your sleeves, pushing the fabric of your dress down, crimpling it at your waist and the sight takes his breath away. You’re gorgeous like this, soaked wet and with water trickling down the ups and hollows of your figure, the valley between your breasts, the tender flesh of your stomach and the curve of your hips. The bra you have on, made of nothing but lace, clings to your skin; the crowded pattern of it taunting him with the peek of what’s below and he takes a moment to just admire as he swallows thickly. A knot forms in his throat and stomach and he feels hot, mustering the power within him to gently brush away the wet strands of hair that glued themselves to your collarbones and neck. He swallows again. He’s nervous.

Your eyes flicker to his lips and they’re parted. His breath hitches and you inhale, leaning in and kissing him again. His hands are wandering, exploring your flesh, absorbing the warmth and gliding over your rain-soaked curves. He kisses you — with passion, with need and you feel yourself trembling in his hold. You love him — his eyes, the way he cares, his taste.

You feel his fingers dancing near the clasp of your bra, struggling with it, shaking. He manages to do it, to unhook it and you move your hands away from his hair to let him slip it off. Satoru’s impatient, he tugs his own t-shirt off as you barely pull it up and then, his strong arms are wrapped around your middle, pulling you flush to him. Skin touched the skin and he forgot how to breathe.

Then, you’re down, your back on the grass and he’s right above you. He gasps, allowing his eyes to run down your frame because you are a sight to admire — with your wet hair scattered around your head and your half-bare body glistening from water, surrounded by green glass and delicate flowers. They wished to have your charm. You blush underneath his gaze, warmth spreading across your cheeks and the tips of your ears but you keep smiling, keep panting. He wants more.

Satoru leans in, kissing your lips, your chin and down your neck. Raindrops are drumming against the expanse of his back as he hovers above you, kissing you, tasting you. He presses his nose against your skin, inhales you — the subtle mixture of your natural scent and the perfume you always wear makes him dizzy and he licks you. He’s biting, nipping at your skin ever so gently, sucking little red spots all over you as the reminder that you gave him what he finds the most valuable in the world — yourself.

He wants everything, he craves everything and you’re willing to give it to him. One of his hands run up the curve of your hip, his thumb brushing the underside of your left breast — a silent plea for permission to go higher and you purr, he feels it under his cheek and his nose. A soft groan escapes his mouth as he feels the soft flesh of your chest, both under his palm and his lips and you whimper when his tongue flicks against your nipple; the hot muscle a stark contrast to the cold rain on your skin and you bury your fingers into his hair, finding purchase in the wet, white strands.

Satoru feels like he’s starving and only you can ease his hunger. He licks the raindrops off your body, tease the sensitive spots and nips. You are a feast he cannot get enough of; his tongue twirls and flicks, his teeth grazing your nipple as he latches onto it, kissing and suckling the bud and skin around it, making it red and swollen — all while his hand finds the other one. He cups your breast, his thumb brush around the nipple and he’s rolling it between his pads, tweaking and tugging at the sensitive peak. He’s lost in the taste of you, the feel of your skin under his tongue. He groans against you, sending vibrations through your body and you gasp aloud from the intoxicating pleasure of his touch.

You’re a putty in his hands, soft and pliable, responsive to his whims and he can hear your heart drumming below the cage of your ribs, echoing through your sternum as he presses a searing line of kisses along it. Then he trails lower, reaches your stomach, follows the curves and edges, and leaves his marks here and there — each of them causing those tiny sounds to leave your mouth. Satoru loves the melody.

He reaches the layers of your gathered dress that pool around your hips and tugs at it and you raise your hips off the ground to help him. Satoru groans at the sight of your underwear, a simple cotton adorned with the same lace that your bra was made from, now soaked wet and translucent against your complexion. The sight is teasing, taunting and he’s still hungry.

The kisses he leaves on your thighs burn, sending waves of heat throughout your body. There’s lava inside your veins, reaching up the very tips of your frame. You feel admired, worshipped by the god himself, you feel loved. Desired. You’re hot, feverish, the excitement is bubbling inside your chest and pooling below your stomach; narrowing your thoughts only to the man that kisses your ankles as if you were a goddess he wished to devote himself to.

“You are so beautiful,” he voices his thoughts, the only ones he has right now. “I need you, my god, I need you more than air.”

“I’m yours,” and he’s hooking his fingers at the band of your panties, tugging them off, tossing them away — the soft lace gets lost in the tall grass but he doesn’t care. He’s gentle with you when he pulls you closer, when he runs his palms up your inner thighs, when he leans in and kisses the most intimate parts of you. Your back arches and your head fall back; a soft, quiet moan slips through your parted lips when his tongue finds where you need him the most.

The first lick has him moaning, his tongue parting your sensitive folds and running up between them until he reaches your clit and you’re twitching beneath him. Satoru’s messy about it, sloppily slurping and licking, sucking and teasing. He’s making out with your pussy, wetly lapping at your puffy bundle and setting your nerves alight, making you squirm against the wet grass and even the downpour isn’t enough to cool you down anymore. You’re seething, whimpering, writhing in his grasp and he holds you firmly — one hand set around your thigh, the pads of his fingers digging into your plump flesh, and the other ghosting at your entrance, spreading the slick and saliva all over your pretty pussy. He could stay there.

Gojo’s deliberate when he eases his way into you, sinking his long digit in slowly and he begins to move, soon finding the rhythm that matches his oral ministrations. You’re so tight, so responsive, so delicious. He’s addicted.

“Feels good?” He asks, panting and kissing your trembling thigh, pressing his cheek to the plush of it. His cerulean blue eyes, lidded with heat and desire, search for yours and he smiles, seeing you so hazed.

He looks ethereal — with his hair down and wet, messily brushed back and with few loose strands stuck to his damp forehead. His lips are glossed with saliva and your juices, so red and swollen, you wish to kiss them, to bite them. Drops of rain are running down his cheeks, he looks like an angel crying. You want to worship him.

“S’good,” you reply, the sound barely leaving your mouth in a coherent way before you’re moaning again. The second finger slips into you and you struggle to accommodate him at first. Then, he’s back at the supper, his tongue working overtime at your swollen clit, flattening against it and twirling around, delving deeper and deeper. His hand holds onto your hip as he devours you, his fingers moving in sync, in and out, scissoring inside you, stretching you bit by bit and he curls them, searching for the spot that will send you over the edge.

“There it is,” he grins, his words muffled by the way he keeps himself nose deep into your sopping cunny. You’re arching off the ground, crying out his name, seeing stars and he’s learning your body, studying it, memorizing. He wishes to know it all and then, he hopes he’ll forget and learn it all over again.

Satoru rubs his fingers against the spongey spot inside you and your thighs tremble, close on him. He feels your muscles tensing, clamping his fingers and his name is slipping through your lips in a whiney melody that has him humming — the soft currents of vibrations go straight into your clit. He doubles the efforts, lapping at it, pressing wet kisses all over you and each time his mouth moves to find the plush flesh of your thighs, his thumb is rubbing heated circles along your folds, toying with you.

He looks up at you, watches as you come undone; all the pushes and pulls, jolts and trembles telling him that you’re close — so very close that if he only wished to, he’d push you over the edge. But he doesn’t. The pleasure stops and your chest is heaving. He swallows the moan that leaves your mouth with a wet and messy kiss, all teeth and tongue and you can taste yourself on his lips.

“I’m—so, so sorry—” he mumbles between kisses and he moves down towards the pulse on your neck. “I need to feel all of that on myself, I—” he whines, “I need you to come undone while filled with me—” His words blur against your skin, they mingle in his mouth. He’s so pussy-drunk, he can barely think. His cock is straining against his pants, aching to feel you, begging for any kind of friction and he’s close to be grinding on you. He feels like an animal in heat. Thirsty. Desperate.

You hum — whimper — and grip him suddenly, pushing him over, rolling on top of him and Satoru’s brain short circuit when the plushy weight of your ass rests on top of his aching crotch. The sight of you on him nearly makes him lose his mind — your naked, perfect body scattered so beautifully with red marks of his mouth and teeth. Every beauty mark that adorned your skin, every scar and every crease made him wonder if god worked on you himself. Your hands running up and down his chest, exploring his toned body cause his blood to boil with desire. Then you kiss him, kiss his chest, tease his nipples and he thinks he’ll implode just like that. His hips buck up, his rock-hard cock twitching, begging for any sort of friction and release and he feels the sticky precum soaking his underwear.

You move down and your fingers shake a little when you unbutton his pants. “Take your time,” he coos, rubbing the sides of your thigh despite the urge to take you then and there. Despite the need to fuck you silly, he stays gentle with you. His breath pauses and the first contact of cool air and raindrops with his cock has him moaning. And then, you wrap your fingers around him, your warm, soft palm struggling to envelop him whole, but it’s perfect to him. He’s ready to bust.

You move along his dick, thumb gliding over the slit at the top, collecting the pearls of precum and spreading them down his shaft. His veins are prominent against the pads of your hand, he’s heavy as you hold him, twitching at your touch. His abs are tensing, feet plant themselves onto the ground and you know he’s desperate. “Sweethea—haah,” he whines, his fingers dig into your thighs and you know it’ll bruise.

He looks at you and you offer him a soft smile — one that’s sincere, it’s loving and he could just melt against the green bed of nature.

And then, you move again and his mind goes blank. You stroke him again, spreading the slick all over him and then, the tip of his cock slides between your folds. You’re teasing him, not allowing him to enter just yet as you make sure your juices coat him thoroughly and he moans again. The way you roll your hips, the way your slippery pussy rubs along the side of his erection has him seeing stars. Sticky ropes of precum coat his lower belly, stretching between his skin and the tip of his cock when you’re moving. “Please, I beg yo—” he tries but words die down on his tongue when finally, finally, you sink down onto him.

It’s good, too good, it’s too much. It’s not enough.

He’s overwhelmed, his senses struggle to catch up.

There’s nothing else but you.

He reaches his hands to find purchase upon your waist, he holds onto you as you slowly nestle yourself on top of him. The sight of his cock being swallowed whole by your gummy walls for the first time is so deeply erotic, he thinks he’ll never see anything better. You’re dizzy with pleasure as you dig your nails into his skin. Satoru reaches up to cup your face, brushing soothing circles onto your cheek as he watches your features contort in discomfort — you’re new to this and he’s your first; he’s planting his feet onto the slippery grass, keeping his hips in place despite the desperate need to buck them into you. In seconds, the pain fades into nothing and your body relaxes.

He stretches you so good, so fucking good, you already feel the knots forming at the pit of your stomach. “It’s okay,” you promise, nuzzling into the warmth of his palm and kissing the heel of it. Then his hand falls back to rest on your waist; the muscles in his body ripple underneath his pale skin and he grunts lowly when you move for the first time. Your hips rolled against him and he could die like this.

“My god, you’re—” he whimpers, pulling you onto him, flush to his chest and bucking his hips upwards. His arms wrap around you, his lips find yours as he finds his pace — slow and steady first, then faster, and wetter, and deeper, “perfect,” and he kisses you, wet, sloppy, “so tight, so—“, he needs more, “I love you so much,” he whispers and you moan.

He’s leading the movements, despite being on the bottom and you let him. Your lips never leave his skin, you press your nose to the crook of his neck and your eyes are tightly shut. “I love you,” you cry out, “I lo–ve yo–“ you love him. “I love you—” you do. It’s a whisper, it’s a plea, it’s a scream. The words are shattering in your throat but you’re desperate to let them out, to let him know.

“I love you,” he echoes, his fingers digging into your flesh and he’s about to lose himself. The wet, slapping sounds of two bodies colliding bounce between the trees, it’s mingling with the melody of ecstasy and lust. He feels so good, you feel so good.

Satoru’s hips stutter, he feels his balls tightening. Your walls clench and pulsate and you bite onto his shoulder to muffle the screams when one of his hands snakes between your bodies, fingers eagerly rubbing at your throbbing, puffy clit. You’re close, you’re squirming, trying to run away, you’re so close, but he holds you. His name is all your vocabulary, he’s all your thoughts, he’s the air you breathe and the blood in your veins.

“’m s’ close,” he whines, nuzzling his nose into your wet hair, “w–where—?”

“Inside, you can com—aah,” you cannot take it any longer and Satoru moans loudly. He pulls your head to look at you, he wants to see your face. Your walls tighten as you come, pushing him out and sucking him in at the same time, milking him for all he’s worth and he feels your juices coating him in a sticky layer of filth. A thick, white ring of cream gathers at the base of his cock and he’s soon coming as well — his moves are rushed, erratic; hot torrents of seed sprouting deep inside your tight canal as he pumps it deeper, coating your insides with white, filling you to the brim and overflowing.

Your eyes are glazed with tears and his are not better. Your breaths mingle as he kisses you — slowly, messily, nearly missing your lips. His head falls back, white hair spread against the grass and you relax on him as the final stutters of his hips calm down.

Satoru has never felt as much as right now.

No infinity, no barriers.

Just him and the wet grass tickling his shoulders, his nape, his cheeks, and hips. The rain drumming gently against his skin, cold on his hot body. The wind, ghosting over him and then you.

You.

Your breath fanning his sensitive neck, your nose nuzzling somewhere beneath his jawline. Your weight resting on top of him — comfortable, relaxed, perfect. Your hands on his body, your skin pressed to his skin.

He has never felt so much.

And he loves you.

He has never loved anyone that much.

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

♡ EXTRA ♡

You giggle softly and his mouth is curved into a sheepish smile. You didn’t expect this when pulling him onto the vibrant green grass, you truly didn’t see that coming but here you are — your hands buried within his hair, lathering the third round of shampoo and you massage his scalp, brushing your fingers through the once pristine white strands, now scattered in green-ish stains.

Satoru’s lips are glued to your skin, pressing gentle kisses all over your neck and chest and he doesn’t care about his hair. In fact, he’s grateful for the incident because it allowed him to have you there longer — in a hot bath that you both agreed that you needed after spending so much time in cool rain and on the wet ground. You’re on his lap, the soapy foam is running down the curves of your body and you try to wash his hair, to bring it back to its usual snowy shade and he’s sure you’ll manage to do so.

His hands run up and down your hips, trace the line of your spine and he loves his place in between your breasts. It’s warm and soft, it’s close to your heartbeat. “How is it going?” He asks, though he doesn’t care. Your fingers rubbing his scalp feel heavenly, he wishes the green is still there.

“Let’s see,” but you’re serious about it as you tug at the strands just enough to prompt him to tilt his head back and you grab the showerhead, beginning to slowly rinse the lather off. He watches you, the focus on your beautiful face, the adorable pout on your lips and the joyful glimmer in your eyes. You’re gentle with him, not a drop of shampoo or water reaches his eyes and he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. “There we go,” your face breaks into a grin, “white like new, no more green spots,” you seem proud of your achievement and he’s proud of you.

He hums in response and your eyes flicker to him; you lean in and kiss the very tip of his nose. In few moments his hair is covered in conditioner and you slowly allow yourself to sink under the surface of warm water, resting your head on your husband’s peck and nestling into the strong embrace of his arms. His lips press to the top of your head.

It’s a dream. It must be.

And if it is, he doesn’t want to wake up.

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[shurisasthmaticgf]

calling my boyfriend my husband to see his reaction: lando norris x black fem social media influencer! reader

authors note: lets all pretend this trend isn't old now :) also feedback is highly appreciated and encouraged 🫶🏽

tw// anxiety mention, internet translated spanish

you looked into the lens of your vlogging camera and sighed deeply in frustration, bringing your hands to your head and smoothing your palms over your slicked back hair. nearly a year ago you'd made reservations to visit the Canary Islands with your best friend as a girls trip. when the two of you were younger you'd learned about the islands during a geography class and promised one another that you'd visit when you all were older. the reality of being an adult in your young 20s hit harder than a freight train and the two of you nearly gave up on the trip as a whole because it was so costly. however, when your social media career took off and the brand endorsements, monetization, partnerships, and other deals rolled in the ability to take the trip became a reality.

now, you were only a week away from flying into Gran Canaria and of course a problem came up with the reservation for your first hotel. you explained in a whisper to the camera in front of you, "so i've been trying to fix this problem with our reservations. basically, they've cancelled one of the rooms and i've been emailing back and forth for two days and it's not getting anywhere so i'm gonna go call on the phone and see if that works better." you held your phone in one hand and paced around your hotel room, adding and taking things out of your suitcase nervously.

you muted yourself and picked up your camera to move to another room instead. peeking from behind the door your spoke quietly, "well, while we wait for someone to answer i've been wanting to do this tiktok trend and lando isn't doing anything...oddly enough so i'm taking my chance." a smile crept onto your face as your rounded the corner and saw your boyfriend sitting on the sofa typing away on his laptop. you placed your vlogging camera down on the table in the middle of the room so it still showed you in the frame. then, you moved and sat on the other end of the sofa and stretched your legs out so your feet were just touching the side of his thigh. he lightly flicked your socked foot with one of his fingers and wrinkled his nose, "your feet stink." the eye roll you made made him laugh and you shot back, "you're just smelling your upper lip." he pulled one of the throw pillows from behind his back and tossed it lightly at your face, "no that's your feet, you muppet." you burst into a fit of laughter and pulled the pillow into your chest, squeezing it when you heard the hold music stop on your phone.

an older man on the other line answered, "hello miss?" you unmuted yourself and responded, "yes?" he quickly informed you, "all of our english speaking representatives are busy right now please continue to hold." before you could even respond he put you back on hold making you clench your fist and raise it to the phone. your boyfriend asked you, "what's going on?" you swallowed back your frustration and explained, "the reservations jada and I have for our first hotel were cancelled or something because they're not showing up in my email or anything and i've been trying to sort it out for two days over email and nothing worked so now i'm calling and they don't have any representatives available. i told them i can use a spanish speaker but they cut me off and i just don't have time for this. i'm freaking out because we get back to monaco in two days and the guest room isn't ready and jada is flying in right after we get back. and on top of it i didn't remember to book a hair appointment while we were here so i'm gonna have to go on vacation with my natural hair- i'm gonna have to wear a swim cap in the ocean-" the minute that last realization dawned on you tears began to well in your eyes. you felt your stomach drop and your chest tighten as you were reminded of the many things you had to get done in a short time span. a heavy feeling of panic coursed through your veins in the most nauseating and unsettling way possible.

before you could even spiral further into a full blown anxiety attack lando cut you off, "hey hey take a deep breath. relax for me okay? don't get yourself worked up, we can fix this, yeah?" he held one of your socked feet in his hand, his thumb and pointer finger pressing into a specific spot on your foot out of routine habit. he asked you, "do you remember i had to put two of the reservations under my name?" when your brows furrowed he reminded you, "they were telling you that there weren't any rooms available so we called back later and they found a room for you and under my name." suddenly you did in fact remember that small detail from a year ago that slipped your mind the minute after it was handled. a soft, "oh....y'know after you said that it's now starting to ring some bells." an awkward laugh fell past your lips and you wiped the tear that only made it halfway down your cheek.

lando let his thumb rub circular motions into the pressure point on your foot as he continued, "baby, don't worry about your hair, we can find a stylist to do it before we leave even if you have to stay an extra day and fly back without me. when we get home i'll help you pack your bags so it can get done faster, okay? the guest room is ready because i set it up before we left because i knew you'd worry. everything will be fine, angel." you sniffled and mumbled through a pout, "thank you..." you slowed your breathing, thanking the gods above that your boyfriend was literally perfect.

right as you were about to thank lando, the representative on the phone ended the hold music. quickly you picked up the phone and rushed out, "hello? hola?" a woman now spoke on the other line, "buenos días señora. me dijeron que creías que una de sus reservas había sido cancelada sin su aprobación, ¿es correcto?" you immediately switched from english and answered, "sí, me equivoqué. mi esposo colocó la reserva a su nombre en lugar del mío cuando hicimos la reserva el año pasado. " "Good morning ma'am. They told me that you believed one of their bookings had been cancelled without their approval, is that correct?" // "Yes, I was wrong. My husband placed the reservation in his name instead of mine when we made the reservation last year."

lando's head shot up from his laptop when he heard the word "esposo". although his spanish vocabulary was extremely limited, he recognized a few words, and he knew for a fact that you just called him your husband. you pretended not to notice him staring at you as the representative responded, "entiendo que esto sucede muy a menudo con nuestros huéspedes y sus cónyuges." you lightly chuckled and replied, "sí, ¡especialmente cuando la reserva se hizo hace tanto tiempo! pero, antes de colgar. ¿podrían confirmar la reserva si les digo el nombre de mi esposo?" I understand that this happens very often with our guests and their spouses. // yes, especially when the reservation was made so long ago! but, before hanging up. could you confirm the booking if I tell you my husband's name?

your boyfriend watched mesmerized as the foreign language fell effortlessly past your lips. studying in both high school and university left you with a high level of understanding to the point where you could speak well if you chose to...much to his dismay, you often refused because you were convinced you didn't "speak it right". in the back of your head you knew he'd remind you of this as a way to hear you speak spanish more often, even if he didn't understand much of it.

the representative asked in english, "what is the name?" you tried to hide the smug tone and grin as you responded clearly, "my husband's name is lando norris." your eyes remained glued on the pillow between your arms until you slowly dragged your gaze to meet his. that same look that made his whole body heat up with one simple stare, and if you hadn't lifted your head and smiled brightly things would have turned out much differently in that moment. the representative snapped him out of his thoughts when he happily confirmed that the reservation still stood before you hung up.

not even a second after your phone was off lando looked at you expectantly making you laugh. pretending not to notice anything you stood up and said, "i'm going to go call jada and tell her everything is fine." as you shuffled away lando stood up and looped his thumb gently through the strands of beads that sat between your waist and hips. you turned to face him and felt his warm hands against the small of your back, toying with the glass beads until he felt the one he claimed as his. you shyly asked, "why are you staring at me like that?"

your boyfriend asked, "your husband? you want to marry me?" you turned your head away to dodge his kisses and said playfully, "no i just said that so the guy would give me the information i wanted. it was a name drop and a tiktok trend, nothing more." lando slipped his hands from beneath your shirt and squeezed your side suddenly making you jump in surprise, "stop it that tickles!" he pushed you gently back to the sofa, not letting up and saying, "not until you admit that you actually love me." you tapped out on his back and caved not even ten seconds later, "fine! i love you now stop it i can't breathe!" instantly his hands were off of your stomach and grinned cheekily, "i love you too."

fans reactions to the vlog upload:

[envy-of-the-apple]

Infinite Rewind

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Instead of dying, you are sent 13 years in the past, but this isn't your face. "Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

Word Count: 18.1k

(Warnings: slight yandere, death, murder, inaccurate Tokyo geography, blood, violence, mild gore, obsession, unhealthy relationships, child abuse/neglect, time looping(?), fem!reader)

First, you saw a monster. 

It was big and horrible—nasty teeth. You heard screaming. People. Running as fast as they could away from the creatures. Pain. 

And then, you saw a bright, clear sky. 

The sun was blaring down at you. It was so hot. Wasn't it December? How was the sun out at night? 

"Hey, you good?" 

A girl is looking at you. Short brown hair. She's peering down at you, wearing a high-school uniform. How is she wearing all black when the weather is so hot? 

When you don't respond, her eyes squint. 

"Suguru, are you okay?" 

That's not your name; your mouth moves faster than your brain.

"I-I'm fine." That wasn't your voice. It was deeper. More masculine. What the fuck happened to your voice? 

The girl gives you another strange look but you're too busy freaking out over your new voice. Your hands are different too. A completely different skin tone, larger. 

And then you're fumbling with your pockets, clothes you know you didn't buy. The girl is calling for you again but you're too busy pulling out a fucking flip-phone and looking into the black screen, the only thing you have for a mirror. 

Purple eyes stare back. These aren't your eyes. This isn't your nose. This isn't your hair. This isn't your face. You blink. He does too. You open your mouth. So does he. You pinch your cheek. In the reflection, he winces. 

Oh, you just fucking bodysnatched someone. 

ⴵ

Ten minutes later, you conclude that your name is Geto Suguru, you are a 16-year-old boy, the year is 2006, and you attend a religious academy. 

"You're finally acting normally again." The girl-newly discovered as Ieiri- says. "No more weirdness." 

You don't blame her, considering you grabbed her by the shoulders, asking ridiculous questions like: what year is it, who am I, why am I here, who are you, am I dead, is this Hell, etc. For a teenage girl, she took your outburst well. 

"Sorry," you say and by now you've gotten used to your voice, "it must have been the stress from studying." 

She just hums, continuing to walk beside you. Though, Ieiri had a point. You were definitely calmer, and it was mostly because you figured it out. 

You were dreaming. 

You were lucid dreaming, to be more precise. Your brain was conjuring up a weird setting and you just happened to be placed in another person's body. You heard about this happening before. You were just so freaked out because this was the first time anything like this had happened to you. 

An impulsive part of you wants to tell Ieiri that this is just a dream, but you've heard weird things happen after a lucid dreamer tries to break the illusion. It's best if you just let it just play out and see where this goes. 

“Excited?” 

“Hm?” You ask. And Shoko rolls her eyes. 

“For the mission you have this evening. Special grade. Sounds scary.” She says, her sarcasm evident. 

Mission? Special grade? You don’t know what those words mean but it sounds like a school field trip. Shoko takes your hesitance as something else. 

“Ah,” she says, “so you forgot.” 

“I didn’t.” You reply on instinct. 

“I expected this from Satoru, not you. You should stop hanging out with him, he’s starting to rub off on you.”

You give a sheepish laugh, and it’s enough to quell her questions. 

She leads you into the school, all through the winding halls and through an office door. You couldn’t be more grateful, it’s not like you would have known where to go. It’s a teachers room. Two people are already inside. 

“Wait, for once, I’m early?” The boy with sunglasses asks, voice dripping with amusement. He’s leaning dangerously on a chair. You stare at him. You’ve never seen someone with white hair before. It can’t be real. 

“He forgot.” Shoko pipes up and the boy cackles. 

“That’s hilarious. I’m starting to rub off on you.” Ah, this must be Satoru. 

You give a nervous smile. “Haha, yeah.” 

The boy stops rocking in the chair. Three pairs of eyes look at you. Your uniform feels itchy.

“Gojo, stop making such a ruckus.” The man, presumably his teacher, gruffs. "You two got the briefing yesterday. Do your job and for the last time do not leave your assistant manager behind again." 

Gojo groans, and you delve into more confusion. Before you can say anything, the kid is hopping out of his seat before lazily striding out the door. Shoko and the teacher look at you expectantly. 

Oh, you were supposed to follow him. 

Not wanting to make a scene, you catch up to Gojo. He's tall, his footsteps are long and wide. But you're tall now too, so it's easy to keep up with him. This new body of yours has a lot of pros. 

"Yaga's so annoying," Gojo suddenly says, "constantly nagging us like that. It's not our fault the assistants can't keep up." 

What should you say? You clear your throat. 

"He just wants what's best for us." 

Wrong answer. 

"Where'd that come from?" He snorts. How charming. "I know you agree with me. You're just tryna' act like the nicer one, again. It's starting to get a little old." 

Is that how 16 year-olds talk? Rude, but also strangely off-putting, like he can see straight through you. Or more accurately, he can see straight through Suguru. How close are these two, anyway? 

Why did any of these questions even matter? This is a dream! You need to wake up already. 

On the campus grounds, a sleek black car waits outside for you two. Along with a miffed man in a black suit. This must be a very rich school for a field trip to have a chauffeur. Where were you two going again?

Gojo hops in the back, taking one of the window seats. You take the other. In your own body, you would've fit nicely. But Suguru's legs are long, and the spacious car feels cramped. You should've taken the passenger seat. How do tall people live like this? 

The ride is quiet. Out the corner of your eye, you catch Satoru type away on his flip phone. A moment later, yours beeps. You still have no idea how to use Suguru's phone or his password, so you ignore his message. Satoru groans. 

Quickly, you learn that Satoru has a very low attention span. When looking out the window gets boring, he bugs the chauffeur. When the chauffeur ignores him, he starts bugging you. 

"Hey heyyyy," Satoru says, "when this is all over, we should go to that new ice cream place. Like you said, we should." 

You look at him. "Uh, sure." You say. 

"And you should pay for it, 'cuz you said you owed me last time." 

Fine, whatever. "Sure thing." 

He grins. You can't see his glasses, and it makes his smile even more unnerving. This kid. 

This doesn't feel like a normal field trip at all. Why did you stop in front of some rackety house that looked as though it were about to collapse? You turn back to the only adult in the vicinity, but he's out too. He takes out a lighter and a cigarette. In front of impressionable children, too. Wonderful. 

"I'll wait out here." He says, though his tone is uncaring. "Since we're out in the country, there's no need for a veil. Do your best." 

Veil? What? Gojo's already going off again and you've already decided to be his chaperone, so you follow. You reluctantly trail behind him. Feet crunch the leaves. The house grows bleaker and bleaker. 

"Okay, I have a plan!" Gojo exclaims when he gets through the squeaky door. He's so loud, can't he be quieter? "I check upstairs and you check the ground floor and the basement. Got it?" 

Check the house? Were he and Suguru electricians in training or something? That still wouldn't explain why a grown man decided to drop off two teenagers in front of a creepy mansion. And why in God's name did Gojo want to split up?

"I-I don't think that's a good idea," you say, "shouldn't we try to stick together?" Or, better yet, leave. 

He clicks his tongue. "Ugh, you're so lame. Not like Suguru at all." 

Wait, what did he say? You're about to call out to him when he climbs up the stairs, disappearing from view. Unbelievable. 

This kid was starting to get on your nerves. Enough, you were leaving. You could have a nice dream where you met and fell in love with Zendaya, not babysitting some teenager, whilst possessing another person's body. You were going to wait outside with the man and hope your dream finally came to an end. 

Except, you couldn't go outside. The door was gone. 

It-it was right behind you, right? The entrance was right behind you. You couldn't have gotten turned around so quickly? What the hell happened? Or maybe you had gotten turned around? Considering how distracting that Gojo kid was, you might not have realized it. 

You look around the house. Looks like it'd been abandoned for a while. There's dirt on the shelves. Chairs were toppled over and left to rot. The wooden floorboards dangerously creaked beneath you. Just what had happened here? 

There's no patio door. No door leading to the outside. At the same time, you hadn't explored everything yet. Each door led to a room. The only door that didn't, led to a basement. And no, you weren't going down there. 

When you got back to where you started, you noticed something had changed. 

There was a person. Seated right at the base of the stairs? 

Gojo? Was he done with urban exploring? Maybe he knew the way out. He stands up, reaching to his full height, then higher, then higher. 

Gojo was tall, but this thing was taller. Gojo was human. This thing wasn't. 

What the fuck you can only mouth because your voice is stuck in your throat when it takes a shaky step towards you. It's a black husk of a figure, too skinny but too tall and twitching fingers. You don't know how you could've mistaken this for the kid. 

Another step. You're running, back into the house, leaping over the fallen shelves and creaky floorboards. It gives chase, and you can hear it groan behind you. It's deep and rumbly and terrifying. It just motivates you to go faster. 

It's slower than you. That's good, but it seems to realize this. You can barely celebrate your advantage before something heavy is smashed into your back, sending you toppling to the floor. You and wooden chair crash on the ground. 

It hurts. 

Everything hurts. 

Dreams aren't supposed to hurt. Because this wasn't a dream. 

This was real. You were stuck in the year 2006, stuck in another person's body, about to get mauled by a monster. 

You were going to die. 

You aren't even fighting anymore. How pathetic is that? The shock numbs your body as the thing grows closer and closer, all you can do is reach your hands up, protecting your face. 

And then the creature explodes. 

An implosion. It's skin and bones twist in a way no one should. There's a shriek, something wrong and high and inhuman before it's gone. Like it never existed in the first place. 

After all that, he's still smiling. Like the cat that just caught the mouse. 

"I guess we're not pretending anymore, are we?" Gojo asks, stretching his arms. "That's good. That game was starting to get a little boring, anyways. Now, then." 

He folds his glasses, tucking it on his uniform. Blue, his eyes are. As blue as a clear sky. 

"Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you, and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

ⴵ

Contrary to your belief, Gojo Satoru is a good listener. 

There's never an interruption. Not even once. Every once in a while, he nods, a hand on his chin. It's probably because he can't interrupt. You just keep going on and on. Word vomit. 

He only speaks when you pause to catch your breath. "So you are from the year 2017, and you went back in time to body-snatch someone. I had a feeling your technique had something to do with possession." 

You look at him warily. "Wait, you knew this entire time?" 

You two hadn't moved from your earlier spot. You were still sprawled on the floor, still feeling the adrenaline surge through you. Gojo had transitioned to squatting on the floor. He scratches his neck, still so casual. 

"I have good eyes. Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Anyway, you seem pretty harmless, and as annoying as it is not having Suguru around, I doubt killing you would do any good." Why is he being so nonchalant about murder? Is this kid really sixteen?

"I think we gotta' just wait around until your technique reactivates." Gojo whistles. "2017. That's like a decade away. I wonder what happened for your technique to show up." 

You blink, trying to remember the date. 

"It was Christmas Eve..." You glance at him. "And then I was here." 

He thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I got nothing." Of course. 

He sighs, before sprawling on the dirty floor, belly up. You grimace at his antics but choose to keep your mouth shut. 

He doesn't seem very worried. At the most, he looks mildly inconvenienced. Why isn't he worried about his friend? 

When you ask him, he just snorts. 

"Sorry, but you're not that scary. Besides, I don't have to worry about Suguru. He's strong." 

Well, that's nice to know, but one other thing still bothers you. 

"You speak so casually to me," you mutter, "You know I'm older than you, right? I'm 22." 

He laughs. "22? Damn. You're old, man." 

"That isn't old!" You argue. "You have no concept of age since you're just a teenager." And why did he assume you were a man? Oh right, you were trapped in a teenage boy’s body. Of course.

"I mean, technically, I'm older than you, right?" Gojo ponders with a grin. "If you're 22 in 2017, that makes you what—11 in 2006?" 

You say nothing because you have a feeling that if you continue to argue with him, he'll just drag you down to his insanity. 

"Technique, you've said that a couple of times." You look at him. "That's what you call your 'powers', right? Does Geto have one too?" 

"Yeah," Gojo says, "but you can't use it. You have zero cursed energy. Honestly, it's at the same level as a plant. A bit lower than regular humans. It's a little impressive, actually." For one second, could he stop being so condescending? 

"What's his technique?" You ignore his comments. "Could it be related to how I got here?" 

He gives you a look over. "I doubt that, but Suguru's technique is curse manipulation. Uh, you remember that thing you saw earlier." You nod. "Yeah, he can control and absorb them." 

He sounds pretty awesome. You look at your hands. Not your hands. Geto's hands. They're paler than yours, and a lot longer. This isn't your body. Your soul can feel it. You can feel the guilt too. 

'I'd give it back if I could,' you think, 'I just don't know how.' 

Gojo's getting up. He stretches. He was lying on the ground but you can't see a speck of dirt on his uniform. 

"Okay, then. No use mopping around." He grins down at you. "Maybe Yaga can do something about you. Let's get you back to jujutsu tech." 

You blink up at him. His hand is outstretched, reaching out to you. He's still grinning that insufferable grin but his eyes have slightly melted. 

"Okay." You say, barely touching his fingertips. "Let's-" 

And then Gojo's gone. And then, you're standing. And then it's cold. 

You're wearing a coat; weren't you wearing a uniform before? There's no clear sky. It's nearly dusk. 

You were standing on the sidewalk, where people bustled all around you. You fumble through your jackets, putting out a phone. An actual iphone. You flick on the screen. 

December 24th, 2017, 7:06.

Holy shit, you were back. 

Was it because you touched Gojo? That makes no sense, but how could you explain anything else that happened so far? God. You rake a hand through your hair. Your hand. Your hair. You can't believe how much you missed yourself. It felt so good to be back. 

Your mind is spinning, you had no idea what the fuck just happened.

For now, you just wanted to turn your mind off and grab a drink. 

You know there was a bar not too far from your location. Along the way, you pass by the bustling town. There's a couple walking side by side, giggling over something you couldn't hear. Right, it's the 24th. You remember your empty bed with no one to share it with, and you cement your desire to drown yourself in alcohol today. 

Your self-pitying session is almost how you nearly miss him. His shoulder brushes past you. You're about to apologize when you hear his voice. It's familiar. 

It used to be your voice. 

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool. His broad back is the only thing you see, you're almost afraid to reach out to him. 

"Suguru...?" 

He freezes like you've shot him. When he turns around, it's like looking into a fractured past. He looks older, no longer a youthful teenager. You should have paid more attention to his eyes, how scrutinizing they were, how condescending his fake smile was. All that you could think of was that it was actually him. 

"Do I know you?" He tilts his head. "Apologies, but my girls and I are quite busy." 

You don't notice the two young ladies beside him until Geto points them out. Teenagers, maybe just around the age when you first met him. He was a father now. 

You're so swept up by the emotions that you barely notice they've continued walking. You stumble behind, ducking behind the alleyway they went into. 

"Wait! Geto!" You call. "Please! We need to talk!" You still needed your answers. You didn't know care how desperate you came off as. 

In hindsight, you should have noticed that they looked more annoyed than worried about a stranger chasing them across the street. 

The one with the ponytail scoffs. "This one talks an awful lot. How annoying." 

Geto sighs. He leaves his daughters, finally standing in front of you. This is what you wanted, right? A chance to talk to him. 

Still, you can't help but feel wrongness within you. His smile is off. 

"Most monkeys are just that, unfortunately." You don't move. You can't. Not when he places a hand on your skull. "I suppose it'd be humane to put this one out of its misery." 

Geto Suguru crushes your skull. And then you die. 

ⴵ

Again. You died again. 

This is the second time Geto has killed you. Fuck, you should've realized. 

"Back again, Greeny?" Gojo asks. 

He and Suguru were sitting outside in the grass. Satoru's holding up a few playing cards. You look at Suguru's hands and find yourself doing the same. 

Not again. 

"What year is it?" You ask warily. "And what did you just call me?" 

Gojo grins with teeth. You remember he compared you to a plant before, didn't he? He's so clever with nicknames; someone should give him an award. 

"Welcome back to 2006!" Gojo beams. "It's only been a couple of days since you left. And why are you so grumpy? I'm the one who just lost a player." 

You weren't grumpy, you were pissed. You figured out what's been going on with you, and it's all because of the asshole you're possessing right now.

The look on his face when he killed you. Like you were nothing more than an animal. A monkey. Now, you feel a lot less guilty about possessing his body. 

At least you figured out two things. You know how your technique works. Whenever someone kills you, you are sent back in time to take over their body. But you can go back whenever you touch Gojo, or perhaps just another sorcerer. 

Secondly, you have access to Geto's memories. 

It didn't happen the first time you died. It must have been because the kill wasn't direct (from Getos curse, rather than himself), but milliseconds after Geto split your skull in two, your brain was overwhelmed by his past, his present, as well as his future. 

Geto was set to die on December 24th, 2017. At the hands of his best friend, Gojo Satoru. 

Fuck him. Let the bastard die. You didn't give a shit. 

You reach over to touch Gojo's arm, ready to leave. He pulls back with a snicker. Ugh, the brat must've figured out your technique, too. 

"Stop messing around." You tell him. "I need to go back to my timeline." 

"Sure, sure," he says as though speaking to a time traveler is just another Tuesday. "But first, finish the game with me." 

"No." You tell him before leaning out even further. He isn't moving away anymore, but you still can't reach him. Fuck, he must've activated his technique. 

Despite your annoyance, you decide to keep the future away from Gojo's ears. He doesn't need to know that he'll be the one to kill Suguru. He shouldn't. Not at his age. He's just a kid. 

"Just one game! I promise!" He pleads. "Then I'll let you go. Suguru never lets me beat him, I want an easy opponent to boost my ego." 

You roll your eyes, but you settle down, picking up the cards. You already know the rules; you have Geto's memories, after all. 

It's silent, save for Gojo's humming. When you place down your King of hearts, you ask:

"Hey, is my cursed energy different at all?" You ask.

"Not really." He squints. "Wait, it has grown a little. Aw, Greeny sprouted!" 

So, every time you die, your cursed energy increases. That, or your cursed energy, increases every time you time travel. It doesn't matter either way. Does this mean you can use Geto's technique now? It couldn't hurt to try, right? 

There's a demon-no, they're called curses you know that now- floating beside you, just a little ways away. Small. Barely fourth grade. You stick your hand out, calling out Geto's power. There's a pull, a rush of energy. 

A blue ball drops into your hand. 

"Holy shit." Gojo leans forward. "So you can use his techniques." Surprisingly, there's no wariness in his voice. Just awe. 

"Yeah." You breathe before glancing up at him. "Shouldn't you be focused on your cards?" 

He shrugs, tossing the cards away. "What cards?" 

You sigh before staring at the ball. Well, you captured the curse. All that's left to do is swallow it, right? You can do that. You open your mouth. Gojo is still staring. You scowl. 

"Look away." 

He rolls his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you do this before. Well, not you, the guy that you bodysnatched." 

Ass, you keep that in your head as you hold your breath. You swallow the ball down. 

Instantly, you choke. 

It's horrible. Like a rotten carcass on the highway, oozing blood and oil and pus. You start dry-heaving, suffocating, spit dribbles down your chin. Nothing comes out. You've already absorbed it. The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. Like swallowing a rag that was used to wipe up vomit and shit. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. 

"Is it really that bad?" Gojo observes you. "That guy swallows them down, no problem." 

Because Suguru was used to this taste. He was used to the responsibility. The hoarding mass of distraught absorbing a curse comes with. It was a disgusting art. Something he'd perfected to mask for years. Until he couldn't take it anymore. 

Fuck, you might have lost your mind, too, if you kept having to eat this. To protect people who were happy you failed. 

You snapped out of it. Suguru's memories were affecting your own. That's probably a sign that you need to get out of here. No way would you be sympathizing with someone so monstrous. 

"Hopefully, I never do that again." You slowly recover, wiping your spit away with your hand. You lean back on your hands, exhausted. 

"Something I've always wondered." You call out to Gojo. "What did Suguru ever think about someone possessing his body." 

Gojo laughed. "Funny thing. He never knew." 

"What?" You look at him. "No gaps in his memory? Nothing?" 

"Nope," Gojo said, "he remembered what happened in the house, but he thinks he did everything. And then he said something weird." 

You perk up at that. "What did he say?" 

Gojo tilts his head. Then, he shrugs. 

"I forgot." Typical. 

You pinch your nose bridge. "So, did you tell anyone else about...this?" You gesture to yourself. 

"Wait, you're supposed to be a secret?" You look at him in alarm. "In my defense, I didn't know, but I haven't gotten the chance to tell anyone. After the mission, Suguru and I went to the arcade, and then I kinda' forgot about it." 

Well, at least Gojo's arrogance works in your favor sometimes. You can't let anyone know, especially anyone connected to the higher-ups. From Geto's memories, you know they don't like anything new. It's best to stay under their radar. 

"Good, well, from now on, we're keeping it a secret. Got it?" 

"What are you two keeping a secret?" A new voice pops up. You jump. 

You know him—at least from Geto's memories. Haibara beams at you. He looks so alive in the sunlight, smiling and with bright eyes.

He'll be dead within a year or so. 

Gojo takes advantage of your shock. "The bodysnatcher wants me to promise that I won't tell anyone that a curse-user is possessing Suguru's body." 

"What the hell? You just promised that you wouldn't tell anyone!" 

"Uh, technically, I didn't promise anything yet." Gojo retaliates. "But okay, fiiiiine. I won't tell anyone....except for Haibara." You groan. 

"What's going on?" Haibara's smile fades. "Wait, Gojo, is this not Geto? Is this person actually a curse-user!?" 

"I'm not a curse-user." You correct. "I'm not a sorcerer either, for the record." 

"You just used a curse technique to travel back in time to take over someone's body." Gojo enunciates. "Sounds like a sorcerer to me." 

"Wait, you're a time-traveler, Mr. Not-Geto?" Haibara asks and you are genuinely impressed he's able to keep up. 

"The name’s Greeny, Haibara." Gojo supplements. Haibara nods, still a bit unsure. 

"So...do we fight Greeny?" 

"It's not my name." You get ignored. 

"Nah, it's all good. Greeny's harmless. Just a weakling, don’t worry about it." Rude, but you don’t think you’d want Gojo to take you as much of a threat, not after knowing what he can do.

"Oh, okay!" Haibara instantly relaxes. The kid's really trusting, huh? 

"Okay, fine, but no one else can know, got it, Gojo?" This promise doesn't matter. It's not like you're planning on returning to the past anytime soon. As soon as you return to the present, you are leaving Tokyo and escaping the night parade of 100 demons. Fuck that. You don't want to die again. 

He waves you off. "Yeah, yeah."

He's so insufferable. You don't know who's worse: the genocidal maniac or this brat. 

"Give me your hand. I want to go home." 

Haibara looks confused. "Wait, why does Greeny need your hand?" 

"It's how the curse technique works," Gojo explains. "Greeny gets sent back in time, and then my true-love's touch sends him careening forward into the future." You frown at his comment, but he turns to you before you can say anything. 

"Which reminds me, Greeny: ever figure out how your technique works?" 

No way are you telling a kid that their best friend killed you....twice. Instead, you just shrug. 

"Haven't figured it out yet." 

Gojo stares at you. "Huh." He responds. "Well, if you ever figure it out, lemme' know." 

Sure you will. You hold up your hand. Gojo, finally holds his own up. Out of the corner of your eye, Haibara waves. And then you're back in your own body, on December 24th, 2017, 7:06 pm.

You waste no time. You push at the crowd, squeezing through the hoards of people. You need to get out. You need to leave before the death parade starts, before you're trapped in that terrifying cycle of death again. 

You need to leave. 

Exorcised. Ingested. 

No no no. Shut up. This wasn't you. This was Geto's memories. 

Exorcised. Ingested.  

You need to leave. 

Exorcised. Ingested. 

You need to survive. 

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. 

You stop, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. People glare, cursing as they move around you. They don't know this place will be a bloodbath in a matter of minutes. They'd all die. But you could stop it. 

If only if you hadn't accessed Geto's memories. If only if you hadn't eaten that damn curse. If only if you hadn't sympathized with a murderer. Maybe you'd have the courage to escape your future. 

But you'd felt that taste. Horrible. If you eat enough, you could go insane. If you were lonely enough, that would do it too. 

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. No one except for you. 

At 8:06 the screams start. The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more. 

ⴵ

For once, when you open your eyes, Gojo isn’t there with you. 

You’re still on the campus of Jujutsu tech. Suguru was just about to grab his soda from the vending machine. You finish his job. The can feels cold. It feels refreshing on your tongue. It’s a momentary distraction to the fact that you have no clue what you’re doing. 

You understand your cursed technique, but you still struggle with the application. Fuck, what did you do? You were utterly fucked. You’re playing a dangerous game. If you died- if Geto died- here, what would even happen? 

 The worst part is that you can’t even think of the hypothetical because there’s no other choice. You needed to do this. To not only save the people in Tokyo from the Night Parade, but to also save Geto Suguru. The man who has killed you three times now. 

Geto’s dissent starts to worsen at Riko Amanai’s death. If you could prevent that from happening, you could probably change history. But Geto’s true fracture begins with the curses themselves. They were rotting him from the inside.

You grimace, but you have to do it. You have to eat every single curse that Geto couldn’t swallow down himself. 

One was coming up. In less than an hour, Yaga will call you and Gojo for a mission. It’ll be a special-grade grave-type curse. Dispatching it will be simple, but Geto would be the one to exorcise it, ingesting the screams of all that the curse devoured. You needed to prepare yourself for that. 

Maybe you should save some of this soda to wash the taste off later. 

“Geto!” Someone cheers, you jump, but Haibara’s already poking his head around the wall. He grins. 

“Hey! Oh, you’re not Geto, aren’t you?” He tilts his head. “Greeny?” 

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper, “wait, you can recognize me?” 

He nods, after checking to make sure no one’s around, he says, “yeah, your eyes are different? It’s hard to explain.” He tells you. 

Huh. Interesting. 

“You’ve been gone a while.” Haibara beams. “It’s been a few weeks. I’m glad you’re back, Gojo was starting to get cranky.” 

It’s probably because he had no one to mess with. Poor him. He has all your sympathies. Ass. 

“I’m glad to return as his punching back.” You mutter. 

Haibara shyly shuffles his feet. 

“So, are you really from the future?” He asks. “Was Gojo telling the truth?” 

You nod. “Haibara, you haven’t told anyone, right?” 

“Of course not!” He instantly says. “Not a soul. Not even Nanami, and I tell him everything! Your secret’s safe with me.” 

“And Gojo, too! I know he doesn’t look very trustworthy, but me and him have kept it under wraps.” 

Reluctantly, you can’t help but agree with the kid. Gojo is annoying, but so far, he hasn’t done anything super harmful. 

“So anyway, Greeny.” He clears his throat. “Considering you’re from the future and all. Would you mind telling me what my future will be like?” 

You blink at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Nothing much! I just wanna know what I’ll be doing in 2017. Will I finally be a grade 1 sorcerer?” 

You think of Geto’s final memories of Haibara. A child burying another child. 

“Sorry,” you lie through your teeth, “but I didn’t know you in my future. Again, I’m not really a sorcerer.” 

Haibara nods, disappointed but still very excitable. He asks you about other things about the future, and you try to answer to the best of your ability, but you can’t shake off his dead glass eyes, staring at you from the morgue. 

“Another thing, we should have a code word.” Haibara exclaims. 

You blink. “A code word?” 

“If we ever meet in the future,” he explains, “y’know, in 'Groundhog’s day', he has to keep explaining what’s happening repeatedly? In order to prevent that, we should have a secret word between eachother so I instantly know who you are.” 

Not the same exact situation, but it sounds like exactly something a child would come up with. You indulge him anyway. 

“Okay, what did you have in mind?” 

“Well, it can’t be anything too crazy, or we might attract unwanted attention.” Haibara puts a hand on his chin in serious thought. You smile. 

“Got it! If you ever see me, just yell ‘brocolli head’ really really loudly. Then I’ll know.” Haibara chirps. 

“Wait, why broccoli head?”

“Because broccoli heads are green!” Haibara chirps happily.

You’re starting to learn it’s best not to question his logic.

You nod, very amused. “Sure thing, Haibara.”  

Someone calls out his name. He jumps before he waves to you. You watch as he joins with Nanami. They talk about something you can’t hear. Haibara laughs and you decide it would be a shame if his laugh was lost to death. 

Gojo finds you eventually. You can’t hide from him forever. You were walking into the school when he caught up with you. He’d ran there. His breath was slightly ragged. 

“Greeny, couldn’t get enough last time, huh?” You shoot him a look. 

“What are you talking about? Doesn’t matter, we need to go, the missions coming up.” 

Gojo’s smile dips ever so slightly. “How’d you know about that?” 

It’s probably not a good idea to tell the guy's best friend that you’re possessing that you’ve unlocked his memories. 

“Haibara told me.” 

“Ah,” He replies, “let’s go then.” 

The car ride is different this time around. Less tension. You aren’t as confused. Gojo is seated quietly beside you, watching the scenery go by. The assistant is too preoccupied with belting the radio to notice Gojo's words. 

“Figured it out yet?” He asks. “Your technique.” 

He's persistent about that answer, isn't he? You're sure the only reason Gojo cooperates with you is because he thinks you're inhabiting Suguru's on accident. How would he react if he knew you were doing it intentionally? It's best not to get on the strongests’ bad side. 

“Oh, not really, but I think it’s random. I can’t seem to find a set pattern. Maybe Suguru calls out to me, somehow?” 

“Maybe.” Gojo replies. His time is flat. Anxiety flips through your stomach. 

“You’re different this time around,” Gojo says. 

“Am I?” You ask. “I guess I’m just more determined today.” 

He gives you a look over. "Oh yeah? What for?" 

"The curse. I'll exorcise it, today." 

You don't know how you wanted Gojo to react to that, but you're still disappointed when he turns back to the window. 

"Do whatever, Greeny." 

In the end, you do swallow the curse. You manage to hold your gags in this time. 

It's worse than before. It makes sense. This curse was first-grade. Stronger. In terms of taste, it was like curdled blood and mold. You were so grateful for that soda. 

Gojo only watches with a tilted head. 

"You're getting better at that."

You give a weak grin. 

"Practice makes perfect," you reply, "do you think I'll get strong enough to absorb a special grade soon?" 

He doesn't like your question. You can see it in his stiff expression. 

"Maybe. Why do you want to swallow up curses, anyway? Last time you were here, you were practically begging to go back." 

His response wasn't exactly hostile but far from his usual playful attitude. You knew you'd have to confront this eventually. Despite how nonchalant he acted, it's clear Satrou doesn't enjoy watching someone prance around in his friend's body like this. If he starts to dislike you, it could rupture your entire plan. You need his cooperation, more than anything, to save Suguru. 

A little bit of the truth. Just a bit. It can't hurt, can it?

"Curses taste horrible," you say, looking at the ground. You can still taste the remnants of it, "it's the worst thing in the world. I can't even explain how wrong it feels to eat one. I thought...while I'm in his body...I could maybe help Suguru a little. I could ingest the curses in his stead, so that way, he still gets to absorb it." But it'll lessen the trauma it has on his mental state. 

You can't see how Gojo feels about that. Those glasses of his cover everything. But you know he's staring at you. The six eyes are taking you apart, observing you whole. 

"Did you know Suguru in the future?" He asks. 

"I didn't." The man that killed you. The man that will keep killing you. And you'd forgive him each time. 

Another beat of silence.

Finally, he just sighs. "You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?" 

You give a sheepish laugh.

"That isn't a compliment, by the way. You're just really reckless. And maybe stupid, Greeny." His tone isn't mean. 

"My name still isn't Greeny." You tell him. 

"Oh yeah, what's your name, then?" He's reverted back to that teasing lilt, and it almost makes you relax if you don't note the curiosity underneath. 

So far, you've been lax giving away information regarding the future, but you don't think you should continue that. What if you're too careless and the future changes in a way you didn't intend? A name, personal information, that could be way too dangerous. 

"Actually, just call me Greeny. I like that name a lot better." 

"You complained about it all the time, though?" Gojo argues. 

"It's starting to grow on me." You grin. "Grow? Get it, because you compared me to a plant and-"

"Stop stop, you really are an old man." Gojo groans. You just grin wider. Then, you grimace.

“I can still taste it.” You complain. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

“I caught our assistant manager smoking a while back,” Satoru suggests. “Maybe you could go and beg him for one.”

You toss him a look. “Suguru doesn’t smoke, and I’m not giving a teenager a nicotine addiction.” You have found lighters inside Suguru’s pockets, but you have a feeling it isn’t for his own cravings.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?" 

He gives a wordless hum.

"Maybe after this, could you take Suguru out to a cafe'? I can taste the aftertaste of the curse." You shudder. "Just get him something to wash it down." 

Also, Suguru couldn't go back to his dorm after this. Suguru dissented because of his fractured relationship with everyone, not just with Satoru. You'd try to bridge the gap between him and his peers as much as you can. You go through Suguru's flip phone, asking Shoko if she wants to join the two. 

When you're done with that, you snap the phone closed. 

"Okay, I'm done here. You two have fun, okay?" You raise your hand. 

Gojo just huffs, amused. "Sure sure. By the way, someone wanted to thank you." 

You blink at that. "What?" 

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

He gives you a high-five, and then you're back in 2017 in your own body. 

Temporarily. So far you figured out that you get sent back an hour before the night parade happens. 8:06. Considering you have a couple more minutes to kill before you’re killed, you reach into your pocket for that cigarette you’ve been craving. You pick the first out of the box, cherry burns just out of corner of your eye.

You notice things now. The children giggled to their parents. Old couples gingerly held hands with sweet smiles. You'd save them, but first, you need to save Suguru. 

And do really do that, you'd have to save Riko. 

Easier said than done. You could go back in time, but you can't really control when to go back in time. It's been random, but your trips are typically two days away from each other. You can work with that. 

But in order to get to Riko's death, you'd have to die...a lot. Absorbing curses made Suguru lose his mind, but how well would you fare with dying over and over again? 

"Hungry?" 

Someone looms over you. A woman. She's pretty, with short hair and bangs. In her hand, she holds a bag of chips. 

"The vending machine gave me an extra." She gives a laugh. She kind of sounds like you. "Would you like one?" 

"Oh." You take it. "Thanks." 

"Don't mention it." She trots off into the crowd. You watch her.

A stranger's act of kindness. She didn't even know what would happen to her soon. You grip the bag, it crinkles in your grasp. 

It didn't matter how well you'd fare with dying over and over again. You'd get over it. So many innocent people depended on you. You can't just abandon them like this. 

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right? It's aggravating how accurate he is, honestly. 

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

It takes a few cycles to finally reach the day Amanai Riko is assassinated. Whenever you deem yourself too early, you often accompany Gojo on a mission and exorcise a special-grade curse. Your overall plan is working, bit by bit. Each time you return, Suguru's memories swarm you. Each curse he remembers as less painful. 

It's why you get worried when you get there a little too late. 

"Something wrong?" Riko asks. 

You've stopped in the middle of the hallway, and of course, they're looking at you strangely. You know this place. Tengen's barrier is just an elevator ride away. Suguru, Riko, and Miss Kuroi were all almost there.

Fushiguro Toji has already arrived. 

In the first timeline, Geto leads the girls all the way down to Tengen's barrier. He puts his trust in Gojo. Of course, he would. They're the strongest. And in the end, Gojo does kill Toji. 

But the kill comes too late. Riko still dies, and the fracturing happens. 

You thought you'd have more time. If you had arrived a bit earlier, you could have fought with Gojo, and the chances of defeating Toji would have significantly increased. 

What do you do?

"What's the matter?" Miss Kuroi asks. She's supposed to die today, too. 

"Sorry, ladies." You smile. "But I need to go back for him." 

You don't answer their calls, running back up the hallway. The sun's bright, shimmering beautifully in the sky.

It contradicts the blood dripping all over the stone floor. 

Gojo's lifeless body is draped across the rubble. It's a horrifying sight. Eyes that were once like the sky are just this empty blue. A dead sea. He isn't breathing. You know, if you touched his wrist, you wouldn't feel a heartbeat. 

"Hate to break it to ya', but the Gojo kid's dead." Toji's right behind you. You can feel him grinning. 

You know Gojo isn't dead. At least, he won't be dead for a while, but seeing the boy who used to tease you, annoy the shit out of you, laugh at you, be so....it made you freeze. Falter. 

You were wasting time. 

"Sorceror killer." You say after a minute. You almost can't bring yourself to turn, to look at him. The man who kills Gojo. The man who could've killed Suguru, but chose not to. "You certainly live up to your name." 

Toji's grin widens. The only man in the world with zero cursed energy. It'd be awe-inspiring if it weren't so terrifying. 

It's funny. You weren't afraid of dying, not anymore. You were afraid of failing. Failing when you were so close, when victory was just a blink away. 

"The flyheads." You mention to the swarms of curses all around you. "That's really smart." It gives you an idea or two. 

You have Suguru's memories, but they aren't always concrete. You just have snippets. A general idea of what happened within a certain event. It makes sense. Humans can't remember everything. 

But regarding the memories of Suguru and Fushiguro, everything is crystal clear. It's almost like you were there when it happened. 

It also means that you know Suguru, at this current level, won't be able to defeat Fushiguro. 

But Suguru doesn't need to beat the sorcerer killer; he just needs to hold him off. 

Currently, Suguru's body contains 368 curses: 3 special grades, 24 grade ones, 33 grade twos, 103 grade threes, and 205 fourth grades. 

You release all 368 of them. 

In another timeline, these curses would look to you as something to devour. Today, these curses have a new target. 

It won't stop Fushiguro. You're not dumb enough to think that. But it should give you time. Hopefully, it'll be enough time. 

Your knees hurt when you collapse next to the corpse. Gojo's so beautiful, even when he's dead. 

"Gojo." You shake him. Nothing happens. "You need to wake up. Gojo." 

Nothing happens. You don't know what caused Gojo to become the strongest, Suguru wasn't there. For once, you are blind to the past. 

"Riko needs you. Wake up. You-you need to go and save her and Miss Kuroi." 

His body's so cold, and you know he's dead because when you touch his skin, you don't wake up in the present. You push against his body, and he falls limply right back to place. You're sure this sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. 

"Satoru." You beg. "It's Greeny. Please, please, please wake up."

 Nothing happens. 

Everything happens. 

The brightest blue you've ever seen. It's heavenly. A glow that warms and chills your skin. It takes a while for you to see again. When you do, Satoru is standing. 

Somehow, his eyes are even brighter. You don't think you're looking at a teenage boy anymore. 

You're sitting in front of God. 

"Greeny." he states, voice flat. "You're late." 

You manage to smile.

"Sorry." 

You’ve seen Satoru fight before. He’s always calm, body relaxed as he practically floats in the air. Those fights differed from Suguru’s memories—post Satoru’s awakening. There’s always this twinge of desperation. An aftertaste of bloodlust.

But seeing it for yourself is something else entirely. Even with Suguru’s heightened senses, you still can’t follow him. He’s barely a mirage. One milisecond you can see a blue flash, the next you see nothing.

It's barely a fight. Not this time around. Fushiguro is completely unmatched. There's a flash of purple. And then, it's over. 

Fushiguro is in shambles. You didn't realize he was human until he started to bleed and shatter. Parentage over labor. It's sobering, in a way. 

Satoru's mouth moves. You're too far away to hear anything. They stand there for a few more seconds until Fushiguro slumps. Then, he falls.

You wonder when you got so desensitized to death. 

Gojo stands there. You should let him compress, but the clock is ticking. You need to do one more thing before you can let Suguru go. 

"You need to go." You say when you're close to him. He doesn't acknowledge you. "Riko's about to enter Tengen's barrier." 

He looks at you right then. His eyes. They're so bright, but they're strangely lifeless. Like he can't process you, your words. 

"I can see you now," he says, "it was so foggy before, but now, you're crystal clear." 

Six eyes look at you. You don't think you're hiding behind Suguru's face anymore. 

You clear your throat. 

"Gojo." You remind him. "Riko. You need to stop her." 

He blinks back into focus, rising from his high. 

"Oh," he says after a moment, "right." 

You stop him before he can walk any further. You hold out your hand. 

"You and Suguru." 

For the first time in a while, Gojo hesitates to send you back. You wait a couple seconds longer. 

"Yeah," he finally says.

His skin still feels cold. 

ⴵ

This death is a lot more painful than the others. 

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die. 

You forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

Time skips a lot faster now. 

You stand in 2006, four months after the death of Fushiguro Toji. It takes a second for Geto's memories to kick in. What you see makes you nearly cry in relief. 

Gojo and Geto made it in time. You can still remember the tears spilling down Riko's cheeks, the smile on her face when Geto asked her if she wanted to go back. They were safe. They were home, with each other. 

You did it. You actually managed to pull it off. 

But you can't celebrate, not yet. From what you can gather from Suguru's memories, Geto defects after four years. You've just held off the eventual. 

It's nearly the middle of December. The air feels a bit chillier. You stay on that bench where Suguru once occupied. He was finishing his lunch. Usually, he'd eat with Satoru, but Satoru wasn't on campus these days. 

Right, you weren't finished with your work, yet. There was still one other issue. Suguru went on missions alone these days. Swallowing curses, letting them fester and rot in his body. It's isolating and grueling work. You might have been able to help him with the absorption, but your aide won't be enough to prevent his eventual downfall. 

You'll have to deal with his natural isolation. To do that, Suguru will have to make friends with people who aren't Satoru. 

Suguru does have friends, but he's the closest to Satoru. Considering Satoru is getting busier each passing day, Suguru needs to broaden his horizons a bit. 

It's a good thing this school is filled with such colorful characters. 

Haibara and Nanami were sitting in the back of the school. From Geto's memories, their dynamic was interesting. Haibara was definitely more outgoing than the two, but Nanami seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. They looked out for each other, in that way. 

Ah, Shoko was there, too. You haven't seen her since your first day. Her hair's grown longer. It lightly brushes her shoulders now. The cigarette in her hand burns a cherry red. 

Your reaction is rooted in Suguru's instinct than anything on your part. You reach out, taking the cigarette and stomping on the embers. 

"You shouldn't smoke in front of kids." You tell her, hoping she didn't read too much into your action.

Shoko scoffs, but to your satisfaction, she doesn't take out another one. 

"We're just one year below you." Nanami retaliates, but he looks more at ease now that the cigarette's out. 

"Did you finish lunch already, Geto?" Haibara asks kindly, then he takes a closer look. "Greeny?" 

You suck air through your teeth, giving Haibara a scathing look. Instead of looking exasperated, Nanami looks confused. 

"What's Greeny?" Nanami asks, and Haibara weakly laughs. 

"It's-uh-my new nickname for the tree that's growing over there!" He wildly points to something just behind you. "'Cuz it's so...green!"

"Of course." You note the hint of affection laced within his tone. 

"When'd you get back?" Haibara recovers with eagerness. 

"Recently." You grin. "Nice to see you again." 

"You saw him this morning," Nanami interjects, and you shrug. When he frowns, you know you pulled off a perfect Suguru impression. 

Suguru melds into the conversation perfectly. Haibara says something funny, Shoko and Suguru agree, Nanami disagrees. It's a lovely little cycle that ends when Nanami grumbles and picks himself up to go. Shoko starts to follow suit when you stop her. 

"Your hair's nice." You tell her. 

She hums, grabbing a strand to study it. You can see hints of dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. She looked livelier when you first met her. Curses have been popping up left and right since Fushiguro's death. Everyone is overworked, but Shoko looks like she's getting the brunt of it. She's one of the only people who can use RCT on others, and there aren't many healers on her level. All of the strongests share one thing in common it seems. 

"Pretty soon, it'll be longer than yours," Shoko replies. You smile in response. 

"Where are you going?" You ask. 

"Dorm," she replies, "I'm behind on paperwork." 

You had a feeling she always was. You gave a look of sympathy, but misery loves company. 

"I have some work too," You 'remember' the piles of papers lodged on Suguru's desk, "Maybe we can do it together later. The cafe right next to campus? It'll be my treat." 

She looks at Suguru. Her eyes are a pretty color. 

"Sure." She shrugs. "see you then." 

You feel your heart thump twice in your chest and decide that your work here is done. 

Haibara stares at Shoko's disappearing back. The forehead flick comes from both you and Suguru. 

"That hurt." Haibara whines. 

Good, you inwardly think. 

"Sorry." You tell him. He rubs his head, and you wonder if this is how kicking a puppy feels like. 

Luckily for you, Haibara recovers quickly. 

"You've been gone for a while." Haibara tilts his head. "What happened?" 

You can't exactly control your technique, it's more like it has a mind of its own, placing you exactly where you need to be placed. Instead of answering, you sigh, leaning against the wall. 

"Timeline gimmicks." You tell him tiredly. "It's hard to explain." He frowns, but he takes it as an answer.

"Do you know when Gojo's coming back?" You ask. "I think it's time for me to go back again." 

In previous time travels, you and Haibara tried to see if any physical contact would be enough to send you back. No matter how many times you two high-fived, shook hands, or even held hands. Nothing worked. Only Gojo Satoru could activate your technique. It must have something to do with the amount of cursed energy another person has. 

“He should be getting back later this evening.” Haibara muses. “But I’ll be happy to keep you company!”

It's nice to hear him chatter. If you'd let him, he'd go one and one. But you like hearing him talk about his sister. Apparently, she’s also a sorcerer, and his affection for her makes you smile.

"You remind me a lot of her, actually." He tells you. "Even though, y'know, you're a man." It's enough to get a laugh out of you. 

“Do you have anyone in your family who can see curses?” Haibaracasks.

“No,” you answer honestly, “at least, not that I can tell. My dad never spoke of curses or strange powers when I was growing up.”

You think he would have said something; after all, you two were too close to have secrets from each other. Your father was a single man, who took to raising you himself after your mother passed away. He often said you had her laugh.

“Maybe you’re one of a kind,” Haibara suggests.

You agree with him.

Gojo finds you before you can find him. He comes up to you with a grin and a wave.

“Hey, long time.”

His sunglasses are tilted down. You can see his eyes. They’ve lost the mania he had in his fight with Fushiguro. You’re relieved at that. You still can’t shake off that strange thing he said to you.

Wordlessly, you raise your hand. Satoru frowned.

“You wanna leave so soon? You just got here.”

“I’ve been here for hours,” you tell him, “also, you aren’t very concerned that someone is using your best friend’s body as a puppet.”

“He’s been through worse,” Satoru tells you off with a wave. Some friend.

“Let’s go to the arcade,” he suggests.

“Do that with Suguru.” You tell him. “I’m not hanging out with a high schooler.”

“Right right, my bad. I keep forgetting you’re an old man, Greeny.”

“22 is not old,” you say with exasperation, “didn’t your birthday just pass? You’re just five years away. I’ll see your attitude change, then.”

He grows quiet. You feel like you messed up somewhere.

“How did you know about my birthday?”

Fuck, you keep forgetting about keeping Suguru’s memories a secret. It takes everything within you to just relax.

“Haibara told me,” you say, “blabbermouth. You know him.”

“Oh.” Gojo replies. “Huh.”

You shuffle your feet. Distantly, you wonder what shoe size Suguru wears.

“How did your mission go?”

“Horrible,” he’s instantly back to his usual self, whiny and complaint, “and the curse was so ugly too. It was oozing goo everywhere.”

You frown. “Sounds gross. But you won, right?”

He doesn’t even answer. You secretly admire his sheer confidence. You certainly weren’t that when you were at his age.

“How’s Amanai and Miss Kuroi?” You ask.

“Safe.” He tells you. “The higher-ups weren’t really happy with us after that; pretty sure all these sudden missions are punishments.” He frowns. “But they’re fine. Miss Kuroi officially adopted her, so she’s a Kuroi now, too.”

You smiled. You already knew all that, but it’s nice to hear it.

“You saved them,” he says.

You laugh, “I didn’t do a thing.” You tell him. “You and Suguru did all the heavy lifting. I just caused some property damage.”

“You did.” He replies. “I don’t know how, but things always manage to work out whenever you’re around.”

You don’t like how he phrases that, but you don’t react.

“You think so? Maybe I’m lucky.” It’s supposed to be a joke of some kind. Neither of you laugh.

“You really don’t know us in the future?” He asks.

Maybe you should’ve asked Shoko if you could have a cigarette.

“I really didn't,” you say, “Honest, I—I have no idea what’s happening. I’m just as lost as you. Hopefully, I can figure out how to control my technique, and you won’t have to see me again.”

You never stopped feeling guilty for doing this to Suguru. Controlling him. Forcing him to laugh with his friends, make decisions based on your feelings rather than his. But you’re so close. You promise yourself that once you fix everything, you’ll never cause someone this much pain again. No matter how many times they kill you.

Satoru’s fists tighten. He looks even more upset at your response.

“That’s not what I—” He cuts himself off. You wait. Satoru says nothing more.

“You’re annoying.” He tells you in the end. It’s clean and cut, but it sounds like him. More confident, less wavery. “And stupid too.”

You can’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Am I done entertaining you now? Can I go?” He grumbles, holding up his hand.

“Yeah, sure, Greeny.”

ⴵ

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Something’s wrong.

You can feel it. Something’s wrong.

You look through Geto’s memories. There’s nothing. Everything’s going as it should be. Everything looks perfect. Then, why do you feel so wrong?

Currently, Suguru was finishing excorcising a curse. You absorb it, swallowing down the remnant like it’s a pile of rusted nails but even the disgusting taste isn’t enough to wash away the feeling of dread.

The walls of the hospital was empty. The auxillary managers had already cleared everyone out by the time Suguru had walked in. Maybe it was the silence that added to your stress?

You walk out. Nothing changes. One of the managers comes up to you with a clipboard.

“The curse was exorcised.” Suguru tells them. “It wasn’t first grade, it was special grade. It was still disposed of.”

He curses, scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“The wrong information again.” He hisses to himself. “If we keep doing this, someone will die. We need more people, we’re way too stretched out.”

Those words are familiar. Hold on.

“Wait, what day is it?” You ask the frazzled-looking manager.

Offhandedly, he responds. He says the date so casually, and yet his mere words feel like a bear trap, tightening on your leg.

No. You should have had more time. Why weren’t you given more time?

Nanami and Haibara have probably already been dispatched. You go through Suguru’s phone, finding Haibara’s contact. It doesn’t go through. Nanami doesn’t pick up either.

You won’t make it in time. Even using Suguru’s curses, you won’t be able to reach them until it’s too late. Suguru’s memory of that day is muddled and dark, but Haibara’s dead corpse laying on the examination table. The pieces of him that Nanami could bring back.

You wouldn’t be fast enough.

He picks up on the second ring.

“...What’s up?”

“It’s Haibara.” You spit the words out as fast as you can. “Satoru, you need to go and get him right now, he isn’t going to make it—”

“—Greeny?” The exhaustion in Gojo’s voice is gone. You can hear something rustle behind him.

“Satoru, listen to me.” You beg. “Haibara and Nanami were just dispatched on a mission, but Yu isn’t going to survive it. It wasn’t a second-grade curse; it was a first grade. Please, you have to go and save him before it kills him.”

It’s silent. It feels like hours have passed when you know it’s just three seconds.

“We’ll talk later, Greeny.” The line clicks.

You’ve lost the trust of the strongest.

ⴵ

The future has changed when you get to campus. Haibara’s status is still alive. Barely. But he’s still there. Shoko’s currently taking care of him.

Nanami remains quiet the entire time since he returned with Haibara’s battered body. The only thing you can think of to offer comfort is to pat his shoulder. He barely even registers it. It’s more for you than for him. You’re self-soothing, taking care of something else, so you don’t have to recognize your own panic.

If Haibara dies, right here, on this day, everything can change. Everything can go back to the way it was in your original timeline. Haibara, with his sunshine, smiles, and bright eyes. His death is so important, and you can’t even think of him right now.

Gojo Satoru knows you’ve been deceiving him.

This is bad. So very bad. If he starts to suspect that you know more than you let on, he might deem you enough of a threat to kill, regardless of whether or not you’re in Suguru’s body. It’s not like that hasn’t stopped him before.

Gojo Satoru is selfless. He’s selfless enough to kill his best friend, if he thinks it will save everyone.

But if Gojo kills Geto here and now, would that really be bad?

You’d lose your path to the past, but the threat to your life would be over. Even if you did die in Suguru’s body, at least the people of Tokyo will be spared the Death Parade. You’ll still get what you want. And it will be much easier than your current plan.

Nanami shuffles behind you and you instantly snap out of it. That wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you. That same lack of apathy when Fushiguro died in front of you.

It seems like dying over and over again caused you to lose bits of your humanity.

Shoko comes out. Nanami stands up, a tall ball of nervous energy. Shoko removes her mask. Her dark circles have grown even more prominent. She’s only 17.

“He’s still alive.” Nanami sags. “But he isn’t responsive. I’ve done all that I can.”

She looks at Nanami, and then she can’t anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Nanami rasps, the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “don’t apologize. It was my fault. I should’ve taken better care of him.”

You swallow. It wasn’t his fault, you wish you could tell him that it was yours.

You wonder what Haibara’s younger sister looked like. A spitting image of him, perhaps. Shorter. Darker hair, bigger eyes. Their smiles would look identical. What would she look like when she’s told her brother died doing the profession he forbade her from doing?

You can’t do that to her. You can’t be the reason she loses her brother the second time.

You’re not sure if a God is even out there. How could there be? What kind of entity would do something like this to you? Still, you sit on that bench, right outside the room where Haibara’s body lay, and you pray for a God.

Gojo’s footsteps stop right in front of you.

It’s hard to get the words out. For a minute, he just stands there.

“Did you exorcise it?” You finally ask.

“Yeah.”

You lift your head up to look at him. Even in his school uniform, he’s regal to look at. Like a warrior of the sun, blessed by the moon, sent to vanquish beasts and monsters.

Now, his blood-soaked sword is pointed at you.

Make it quick. You can only think. Just make it quick.

“Not here.” You say.

Nanami was still shaking. Shoko was right beside him. So you stand, you drag yourself away from Haibara’s fading presence, and Gojo follows behind.

It shouldn’t be this pretty outside. The sun is bright, and the sky is clear. There should be rain. Enough rain to drown the Earth.

“I figured out your technique a while ago, y’know.” You don’t look at him. You can’t. “Dying. Death activates your technique. Each time you die, you’re sent back 12 years in the past.”

You grip the fabric of your uniform until your knuckles turn white. Satoru’s cruel enough to continue.

“But I never got why your soul kept possessing Suguru’s body. It always felt kinda’ random. Unless he was the one who was killing you. Over and over again.”

“Gojo. Stop.” You beg.

“That’s how your CT works. Every time you’re murdered, you go back in time so you can kill them when they’re at their most emotionally vulnerable moment. It’s a pretty powerful technique, all things considered. I might not even stand a chance against it. Assisted suicide, never expected that from you of all people.

But you never do. Each time Suguru kills you, you just come back and try to save him and everyone else your hands can reach. I can’t get why you did that.”

He steps in front of you so you can see him. The God that he is.

“Let’s cut the shit, Greeny. Tell me what future is so bad you’re willing to die over and over again to prevent it.”

The worst outcome you could have ever thought of was standing right in front of you.

Satoru was demanding to know his future.

And...you couldn’t.

You’re taking in a shaky breath. It’s not enough oxygen. The sky was close to crumbling, and you still couldn’t breathe.

“There’s nothing to know.” You try. “There’s nothing, I’m fixing it—”

“—by Suguru killing you, or is this considering killing yourself, now?”

“You don’t understand.” Your voice is cracking, so high-pitched that even Suguru’s vocal cords can’t keep up. “You don’t get it. You can’t.”

“Then help me understand.” His voice is as ragged as yours, he steps closer, you step back. “Tell me why my friend would do something like this to someone.”

It clicks right then. Satoru’s anger isn’t directed at you.

No, it’s directed at Suguru.

It’s even worse than you thought.

“He—he was better than me. He was supposed to be the best out of all of us. I wanna deny it all that I can but—but I can see the proof right here in front of me. And—And I don’t—” His voice breaks too much to continue. 

You’re breaking, too. How many times have you been doing this, over and over again? All alone, with no one to support you. To comfort you.

The words are right there, threatening to bubble out. It’d be so easy to tell Satoru everything.

And maybe you would’ve, but then you looked at him.

Despite how disingenuous Satoru acted, you knew he was kind. The kindest person you’ve ever met. He’d sit there and listen, and he’d break every bone in his body to help. That’s just how he was.

Satoru was selfless, he was selfless enough to kill his best friend here and now if it meant he’d save the millions in Tokyo.

You can’t put another burden on the strongest.

You can’t do that to a kid.

“It—it isn’t him.” You manage to spit out. “He isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s not his fault.

It’s the curses. They were too much for him; they overtook his body. Suguru couldn’t control them anymore.”

He says nothing. It’s like you’ve put a spell on Gojo somehow, freezing him in place. Satoru can’t do anything but stare at the talking puppet that’s his best friend.

“He lost so many people.” You continue. “Riko, Miss Kuroi, Haibara. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. His body succumbed to the curses, and they took over Shinjuku. That’s how I keep...”

It’s okay to lie like this, you justify to yourself. Because the Suguru, you know—the one with fake smiles, beady eyes, and a broken expression—isn’t the one that Satoru knows. They’re two completely different people. Years—timelines—apart from each other. They aren’t the same.

Even then, you forgave both Sugurus a lifetime ago.

You’d get on your knees if you know that would make a difference. You’d plead and beg and cry if it would get Satoru to drop it. In the end, you can only stare at him.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me.” You whisper. “Believe that I’m making this right. Please, Satoru?”

His eyes. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s gone quiet and dull. The same look he had when he fully awakened his technique. The day he became God.

But he’s not a God. God’s don’t cry.

He leans ever so closely until his head rests on your shoulder. His body shakes.

“You’ll save him, right?” He asks. Gone, is his aura of confidence and resilience. He’s nothing more than a shell. If you feel something stain Suguru’s uniform, you say nothing about it.

You smile anyway.

“I will.” You tell the truth. “I will save him.”

You think of something morbidly funny.

“I’ll die trying.”

His shoulders shake with quiet, genuine laughter, the kind that’s wet and sticks to the top of your mouth.

“That’s fucked up, Greeny.” He whispers.

You hum, reaching up to pat him on the back. It takes another minute before he gathers himself up. His eyes are shiny. Satoru blinks it away.

“Haibara will be okay.” He says with such conviction. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll take care of Suguru, too.”

He doesn’t get it, not yet. He doesn’t understand that Shoko and Satoru and Haibara and Nanami need him. He’ll get it soon, though. You managed to put Suguru on the right path.

For now, it’s all you can do. 

“I know you will.” 

He scoffs, right then. 

“You’re really annoying, you know that? Next time, don’t piss me off like that. Just tell it to me straight.” 

Rely on me. Lean on me.

“I’m sorry,” you say and you truly are, “I won’t leave you in the dark from now on. I guess I just forgot that I had a friend in 2006.” 

His eyes get a little brighter. “It’s actually 2007—” 

“Shut up.” He laughs and it sounds like him again. 

You reach out your hand and his grin fades, the tiniest bit. He mirrors you, regardless. 

This time, you hesitate.

“You should learn how to be selfish every once in a while.” You tell him. “I won’t fault you if you’re selfish. I don’t think anyone will.

He doesn’t answer that, but his touch is finally warm.

ⴵ

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

It’s today. 

You can feel it. You don’t even have to look at the date to know.

The catalyst for December 24th, 2017.

Suguru’s already dressed. You’re currently standing in front of a shotty mirror, watching your reflection.

He looks tired. His smile’s a bit muted. You notice a scar you hadn’t seen before. An unregistered special grade curse, Suguru’s memory gives.

He’s different from when you saw him a year ago, but there’s still a spark in his eye. You cling to that hope, as hard as you can.

You step out of the room. It isn’t Suguru’s. He’d rented accommodations with an older woman and her son for the mission. Their place smelled like home. It made your stomach turn.

She smiles when she sees you coming down stairs. She looks kind; she has the eyes of a mother. You’ll never understand how a person who raised children could do something like this to another.

“Mr. Geto.” She chirps. “I’m so glad you’re awake! Would you like anything to eat?”

“No, I’m fine.” Better get this done sooner than later. “I should be heading back now, anyways.”

Suguru had already absorbed the curse tormenting the village last night. You can feel the sticky aftertaste in your mouth. He should have left the village yesterday, but the people were insistent he stayed one last day as thanks, feeding him all they could.

Now, it’s obvious that it was a way to butter him up for today.

Her smile grows a bit nervous. She shuffles her feet a bit.

“If it isn't too much.” She starts. “The head of our village asked if you could look at something.” Her eyes darken into disgust.

You fight to keep your smile.

“Of course. Please, lead the way.”

It’s worse than you ever could have imagined.

You’ve seen this play out so many times in Suguru’s memories. He reminisces about this moment a lot. Because of that, you knew this scene too, like the back of your hand.

And yet, seeing two children huddled together on the floor. Nothing could prepare you for that.

The village head is saying something. The woman who Suguru roomed with is yelling at the scared kids, but you can’t hear any of that.

Their clothes were dirty and ripped. Their cheeks were hollow, and they looked like they hadn’t eaten for days. Himiko’s eye looks swollen.

The twins.

The first time you saw them, they stepped aside and let Geto kill you. There’s something oddly poetic about you being on the other side.

They tremble as they continue to look at you, flinch whenever that woman raises her voice. They must think Suguru’s here to kill them.

They’re too young to think like that. They’re too young to see the horrors of this world so soon.

It’s a mistake to look towards the end of their cell. Dirty water and dog food.

How could a human do this to them? How could a mother do this to them?

You feel red. It coarses through your blood, your veins, your soul. It feels like there’s lava right underneath your skin. Shuddering, tittering anger.

There’s more than enough fire to burn down an entire village.

‘Suguru,’ you think to your companion, your tormentor, ‘I think I’m starting to get it now.’

You reach for the bars of the cell. The twins shrink away.

“Ah! Mr. Geto, you musn’t get too close to them—”

“I’ll take them.”

“What?” The head of the village asks.

“The children.” You straighten yourself up. “I’ll take them off your hands.”

It’s pointless to do anything to these people. They’re delusional enough to think that they’re in the right. By torturing these children, they’re protecting their own. It’s fear. That’s all it ever was. Even without a curse, it’ll fester on and on until this village is nothing but abandoned homes. There’s no point to punish these people any further.

If you look at the adults a bit too long, you’re afraid of what you’d do, even without Suguru’s interference. Instead, you focus on Himiko and Nanako, looking into their wary gazes. Their hands are so tiny. You could protect them with your own.

When you got out of this backward village, you’d find them something to eat.

ⴵ

You go to Shoko first.

She looks surprised to see the twins. You can’t imagine why. Still, her voice is calm when she speaks to them, setting both of them up in the clinic room. Since you got them into the car, Nanako and Himiko seemed to calm down. Himiko even told you the name of her doll.

A little while later, Yaga comes for a visit. He’s the principal now. Usually, his voice is filled with gruff, but he’s oddly gentle when he speaks to them. Nanako cracks a shy smile.

You can’t escape the ‘we’ll talk later’ look he gives you. Inwardly, you sympathize with Suguru. But a harsh lecture is better than being branded a murderer.

He hasn’t come by, yet. With the twins aided for, you decide to go find him yourself.

Walking through campus feels a little nostalgic. The grounds of the infamous jujutsu technical college are a bright green. It’s summer again. You’ve met so many colorful characters since your time here. You’ve only seen snippets, mere seconds of their lives, and yet it feels like an entire lifetime.

He’s sitting on a bench when you finally see him, nursing a drink. He doesn’t acknowledge you. You have to roll your eyes at his childish behavior, plopping down beside him.

“Hey.” You say first.

“Heard you adopted two kids,” Satoru says, “Never thought Suguru would be a teen mom, but here we are.”

You laugh, light and breathless. The sky is so pretty today.

“I don’t think he’d have it any other way, personally.” You respond.

He reminisces on your words.

“This happened before too?” He asked.

It did. It was a lot less of a happy ending, however.

“Yeah,” you say regardless, “he took good care of them last time. He’ll do the same in this timeline too. I’m sure of it.”

And this time, he’d have help. Shoko, Satoru, his teachers. They’d all be there for him. Suguru’s memories haven’t changed yet, but you know the future you step into will be a different one.

“In any case, I’m glad I got to see jujutsu tech one last time. It’s a beautiful campus.”

“You act like you’re leaving,” Satoru says, uncaring. “You’ll just come back again next month. Or next year.”

You play with your fingers.

“I...won’t be doing that from now on.”

He pauses. Then, he looks at you.

“What?”

You can’t gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t look happy. You find this a bit hard to swallow.

“I fixed the future.” You smile at him. “I finally did it. Suguru won’t break. Himiko and Nanako won’t lose their father. You won’t lose a friend, anymore. There’s no reason for me to keep coming back. You’re all free.”

You phrased the last part as a joke, but Satoru isn’t laughing.

“Wait, you’re leaving? You’re...leaving leaving.”

You nod. “I can’t believe it either.” You still can’t believe you accomplished everything you set out to do. A task that seemed so impossible, now you’re standing on the other side of it.

It wasn’t truly over. Not really, but you were able to get Suguru through the worst of it. Now, you were sure Satoru and Shoko would take up your mantel, pushing Suguru through the finish line. Just like he’ll do to them.

Satoru’s quiet.

“You seem happy.” He notes.

“Well, I did just save everyone, I think I deserve to feel a little good about myself.”

For a moment, you want to ask if it’ll be okay to visit everyone in the future. To see how Shoko and Suguru and Satoru are doing as adults. You stop yourself. Of course, they wouldn’t want to see you. You needed to stop being so greedy.

This, was more than enough.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” Satoru asks.

“You know I can’t do that.” You tell him with a smile.

“Right right.” He laughs, it sounds hollow. “Time travel, bullshit. Makes sense.”

“I’ll miss you.” You tell him.

He straightens himself up.

“I’ll miss you too, old man.” He responds. “You were a lotta’ fun to mess with.”

For once, you aren’t offended by the old man’, comment. If anything, it feels somber.

“Can I ask for some advice?” He suddenly asks. “Y’know what they say, ask the old and wise or whatever.” Okay, now he was starting to push it.

“What is it?”

It’s his turn to shuffle with his fingers.

“What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it?”

You glance at him. He looks earnest. Did something like that even exist for Satoru?

“Something I can’t catch up to?” You ponder out loud. “I guess I’d have to make a big enough ruckus to where it has no choice but to look back.”

He frowns. “That makes no sense. You’re growing senile.”

You laugh. You’ll miss this brat.

You wish you could stay more. You wish you could ask about Haibara, and Shoko, and Nanami, but the clock is ticking.

Suguru’s getting impatient.

“Bye, Satoru.” You reach out your hand.

He scrutinizes it, before clasping it within his own.

“Yeah, Greeny.”

Within a blink, you’re back again in the middle of Shinjuku. December 24th, 7:06 pm.

It’s the same as always. People bustle around you. Children’s laughter. Everything always repeats itself, but you don’t think you can ever get sick of it. You’ll savor this peace for as long as you can.

You reach into your pocket, flicking out a lighter and the first cigarette of the box. You don’t know why you always chose this one. Despite outmaneuvering time itself, perhaps it’s within human nature to follow what’s written stone.

You’ve relived this hour so many times that you can list everything that happens. Down to the exact minute. 7:08- a little girl wearing a red dress walks by. 7:09- a lady with short hair catches your eyes and smiles. 7:14-an old man and woman bicker with each other as they pass you by. 7:21- A little dog sniffs the bench you sit on. 7:34- Two schoolchildren run past you, babbling. 7:45- five construction workers grumble out their grievances. 7:58- a businessman talks loudly on the phone.

You wait. You sit on a bench and wait until 8:06.

Five seconds after 8:06. Twenty seconds after 8:06.

The clock clicks to 8:07.

You were expecting to feel something else. Celebration. Elation. You half-expected to cause a scene and jump for joy right there in the streets of Shinjuku.

None of that comes. There’s just a feeling of relief. A weight presses you down, and you slump in your seat.

It was over.

It was finally over.

How long do you stay like that? Hours? Days? When you feel like you can finally breathe again, it’s only 8:12. Time travel warped your sense of time.

You stand up, stretch, feel your bones crack and pop. In the second timeline, you wanted to get a drink to drown your misery of nearly getting killed by a curse and being alone on December 24th. It felt like a lifetime ago when being single was the worst of your problems.

Honestly, you’d stay celibate for the rest of your life if it meant you wouldn’t have to go through that ever again.

Tomorrow, you’ll decompress and devolve into hysteria over what happened.

Next week, you’ll check yourself into therapy.

Today, you decide to go home and sleep for a couple hundred years.

You must look like a zombie with the way you wobble down the street. Physically, your body is perfectly fine. You’ve suffered no bruises or cuts. Even the numerous times you’ve been killed leaves nothing on your skin.

Mentally, you’re in shambles. The indomitable human spirit within you is snuffed out.

The stairs to your flat is your last enemy that you must vanquish before you can reunite with your adoring bed. You cling onto the railing with dazed eyes. You don’t see the curse until you’re right before it.

Distantly, you wonder how often you’ve passed a curse and didn’t even realize it. It’s almost instinct to reach out with your hand, intent on absorbing it.

Nothing happens. You remember you aren’t Suguru anymore.

It’s a grotesque-looking thing. No eyes, too many hands, a gaping mouth. It turns and looks at you.

Strange. Its’ smile mirrors the one in the abandoned house.

Adrenaline. You feel it coarse through your veins, meld into your bones, explode in your skin. You’re stumbling back, nearly tripping down the steps in your haste to get away.

It screeches. Loud and clear and angry and you can almost feel its teeth chomp on your leg, ripping your muscles and skin to mere tatters.

You’ve died before. You’ve been skinned alive before. You’ve been eaten before. Yet, it all amounts to nothing compared to the fear you feel at the thought of the curse catching you.

It can’t have been nothing more than a third grade. If you were taller, larger, special-grade, you could have killed it immediately. But you weren’t, not anymore, you were at the same level as a plant. Useless. Helpless.

A dead man stumbling, tripping, running.

The streets were quiet. You supposed that meant there’d be fewer casualties. But it didn’t make you feel any better. And even if there were people around, no one would have been able to help you.

Your brain isn’t working as clearly. Fear is the only thing that guides you. You’re reduced to a rat scampering through a maze. Sooner or later, that rodent reaches a dead end.

The alleyway was blocked off. You felt the rough brick wall scrape your hands and even the feeling of your raw skin couldn’t assuage your heart pumping in your throat. When you whirled your head back, it was right there, and you knew you were dead.

Again.

I might kill you, if it’s feeling generous. It might cut your legs off and watch you bleed, if its feeling kind. It might eat you, if it’s a decent curse.

It shouldn’t be happening. You fixed it. You were supposed to have fixed everything. But clearly you didn't. There must have been some piece of the puzzle that you forgot. Just one thing and if you go back and fixed it, everything would be okay. You forgive Suguru—

You don’t see what happens. One moment, the curse is there. The next it isn’t.

“Those things are so annoying.” The newcomer complains.

No, not new. You know him.

You blink. He grins. It’s kind. A toothy smile that warms.

“You alright?” He asks in sympathy. “Curses are pretty scary, aren’t they? Are you hurt?”

It’s him. You weren’t in 2006. You were in the present, here and now, and he was here with you.

He actually made it.

“Ma’am?” He asks.

It wasn’t intentional. You just blurted it out, the promise you made to him. It was a decade for him. Mere hours for you.

“Um, broccoli head...?” And then you instantly regret it.

Haibara Yu takes a minute, eyes squinting like you just grew a new head.

Then, he gasps.

“Greeny?”

ⴵ

A few minutes later, you’re seated at a restaurant. Haibara has not shut up.

“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again ‘cuz Gojo said you weren’t gonna be around anymore, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

“—Haibara.” You interrupt. “Please, slow down.”

He stops himself, right when the server comes with drinks. He shoots the waiter a smile, and then he’s back on you.

“Sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I—I got a little excited. And nervous. It’s just...well, I didn’t expect you to be a girl.”

That might have been your fault. Both Haibara and Gojo kept referring to you as a man, so you decided to roll with it. Earlier, you would have justified it by insisting the less they know about you, the better. Now, you just think you were being petty.

“So, how you’ve been? A whole decade...” You murmur to yourself.

“Fine! But what about you?” Haibara asks, concern etched into his eyes. “Where’d you go?”

Wow, he was actually worried for you. Despite being in Suguru’s body, you didn’t really feel like part of the group Shoko, Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara were part of. You felt like an outsider, being somewhere you didn’t belong. It's because you were an outsider. Nevertheless, it’s nice to know one person missed you.

“This might be a little hard to believe, but I just came back to 2017 two hours ago.”

Haibara gapes.

“Wait, so to you, that whole thing happened, today?” You nod. He leans back in his chair.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh at his awe.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way.” You change the topic. “From the curse.”

He waves it off. “I was just paying my debt. From what you did for me all those years ago.”

Ah, Gojo must have told him. Oddly enough, Haibara doesn't seem all that perturbed that he shouldn’t exist currently. At the same time, it feels just like Haibara.

He’s different from when he was younger. Taller. The baby fat is gone. His face is more built, just like the rest of his body. His eyes are less round, but they haven’t lost the spark. A few scars here and there, but he’s all in one piece.

You weren’t able to see what he looked like as an adult from Suguru’s memories, he’d never grown up. But now, you can see it for yourself. You can see the active change you made in his life, to his life.

“Haibara—”

“Yu—” He says seriously. “My friends call me Yu.”

A smile twitches on your lips.

“Tell me about everyone.” You scoot your chair closer. “You, Suguru. How is everyone doing?”

He perks up at that, clearly delighted to be talking.

“Great! Everyone’s doing great! You should totally come visit the school, sometime. They’d love to see you. Uh, even if they don’t technically know you, but I’m sure they’ll love to meet you!” He rambles, and it’s nice to know he hasn’t changed from his younger self.

“Let’s see, Kento’s teaching the first years. I teach the second years—”

“—You’re a teacher?”

He nods. “We all are! Except for Shoko, but she has her own thing going on. Anyway, Mimiko and Nanako have become second-grade semi-sorcerors. Isn’t that incredible? I’m just a first grade semi-sorceror, and at their young ages too! But Suguru wasn’t surprised, he kept saying his girls were prodigies. Oh! You probably want to know about Suguru too, right?”

You nod. Even if you hadn’t done anything, you don’t think that would have stopped his enthusiasm.

“He’s a teacher too! At least, for right now. Yaga’s been wanting to retire, and there have been talks of Suguru becoming the next principal. Principal Geto has a ring to it, right? Oh, and Shoko is currently planning the wedding. You’ll definitely be invited, of course! She said I could bring a plus-one. Oh, and—”

It goes on like that for hours, you think. Not that you mind. You listen to Yu babble on and on about his friends, his students. He talks about Nanami’s recent baking addiction, Shoko’s new office cat, Suguru’s favorite tea pot. It’s a never-ending surge of information.

Eventually, you catch on to the fact that he’s deliberately leaving someone out.

"Yu?" You interrupt him while he's talking about the prank the fourth year pulled on Nanami. "What about Satoru? What's he up to?" 

Maybe you were overthinking things. Haibara likes to talk; perhaps he forgot to exclude someone else's story in his rants. But then, he grimaces. For the first time in this entire conversation, Haibara is reluctant to talk. 

"Satoru is..." He winces, and your hands turn into fists. 

No. No. You were supposed to save everyone. Why hadn't you saved everyone? 

A warm hand grips your own. You'd been shaking. 

Yu gives a soft smile, and you remember he's no longer younger than you. 

"He's not dead." He assures you, but his smile fades. He straightens himself up, and his hand pulls away. 

"Satoru defected from Jujutsu tech. We don't know where he is." 

What? You must have misheard him wrong. Satoru wouldn't do that. That's not like him. This is some sick joke.

But there's no teasing grin on Haibara. His face is grave. You hate it more than anything. 

"It happened when he was a fourth year. No one really knows what happened. Suguru refuses to say anything about it, but I think he's just as confused as the rest of us. It came outta nowhere." 

Yeah, it definitely came out of nowhere. It's so random. Why would Satoru do that? The last time you saw him, he was so happy. He was smiling; he teased you. What happened? It made no sense. 

"So, you haven't seen him for nine years?" You ask. "Not even a glimpse?" 

Yu shakes his head. "Nothing but his residuals. That's how we know he's still alive." 

Nothing computes in your brain. None of it made any sense. You saved Suguru. That was supposed to make everyone happy, including Satoru. Why would he turn around and do this? Defecting made no sense.

"We've actually been tasked to execute him. Since he’s been branded a curse user, all four of us. " Yu laughs with no humor. "Isn't that insane? I don't think any one of us could even fathom doing that, even if it were possible." 

It wasn't possible. Gojo was the strongest. Nothing could go toe to toe with him. Once he put his mind to something, no one could stop him.

But maybe you could. 

You're shutting that idea down immediately. You were done. You were done with dying and time-travel and strange powers. You wanted it all to be over. It'd be so easy to thank Haibara for the nice meal, to go home and sleep this entire day off. Satoru dug his own grave, he can go lay in it. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions. You wouldn’t. You can’t do that another time.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?

You hate that brat so much. 

You close your eyes. Take in a breath. Then, you open them. 

"Haibara?" You ask. "Did Gojo tell you how my technique worked?" 

He shakes his head. You grimace because convincing him might take a while.

"Okay, well, I'll need you to do a tiny favor for me."

ⴵ

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, you're back already?" Satoru says casually, turning back to gaze at you. "I just left today. How did you convince Haibara to snap your neck? That guy cries after killing a mosquito.”

You’d caught him just as he was leaving campus. Yu’s body was less athletic than Suguru’s. Your breath was slightly ragged, pulled down by minor exhaustion.

It doesn’t weigh down your frustration for Gojo Satoru. The biggest pain in your ass you’ve ever met.

“Shut up.” You snap. “Just answer the question.”

“We haven’t seen each other for a year and that’s how you react?” Satoru ignores you. “That’s mean, Greeny. How ‘bout we discuss my treason over steak. Haibara can pay.”

“Satoru.” You beg, “Why are you doing this? What’s the point? Why is everyone happy with their life except for you?”

That seems to get him. His posture stiffens ever so slightly. You can see him work his jaw. He finally drops his act.

“You didn’t have to come back, y’know.” He murmurs quietly. “You could’ve just stayed in the future. Like you said, Greeny, everyone’s happy with their life. 4 outta’ five. That’s a passing grade.”

For once, you wish you could possess him. You wished you could open his brain and peer into his memories until he finally made sense.

“I could never leave you behind like that.” You say the truth just as quietly. “I’ll die a thousand more deaths than do that.”

He smiles. It looks genuine as it looks painful.

“Yeah, I know. I know you, Greeny. Always gotta’ play hero.” He gives a bitter laugh. “That’s why I defected.”

You stare at him. He’s a fourth-year now, even taller than before. You aren’t equal to him anymore in this body, now you’re starting to think you never were.

“Satoru.” You start because what he’s saying can’t be the truth. Your heart broke and broke. “Did—did you leave—did you leave everyone for a decade just so I’d come back? Why would you do that to yourself?”

He doesn’t say anything. Then, he steps forward, just a bit.

“It’s your fault,” Satoru says like it’s instinct to blame you for his actions, “this was your idea.”

What’s he talking about? And then memories of the two of you sitting on that bench just outside of campus.

What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it? So that’s what he meant. You were an idiot.

“That’s not fair, Satoru,” you say regardless, “I—I never—I couldn’t expect you’d do this.”

“What choice did I fucking have, Greeny?” There’s rapid steps and he’s in front of you, desperate and wild. “You—you just left me here. You left me alone and I couldn’t even look for you because I know nothing about you. Your face, your eyes, your hair, not even your fucking name! How’s that fair?”

It’s true. It’s all true. As much as you tried to claim you tried to make everyone happy, you only focused on Suguru. And Suguru’s happiness enlisted space from the strongest. In a different timeline, things would be different between them. A button he never left behind. Words Satoru never said. That timeline held too much pain and suffering, so you scrubbed it from history. In this rendition, everything was changed. Suguru had Shoko. Yu had Kento. Who did Satoru have?

You saved Suguru in this timeline. But to save him, you neglected Satoru.

Satoru must have known. He must have known you intentionally distanced Suguru from him, but he allowed it anyway. Satoru’s selfless like that. Too giving. Too Godlike.

But he’s selfish too. Purposefully demeaning himself so he could get one more glimpse of you, uncaring if you went through hell for his sake. Too taking. Too human.

Once, you told him that if he was selfish, just once, you wouldn’t fault him. What a liar you are.

You forgive Satoru.

“I’m sorry.” Haibara’s voice is like your own. You step closer. His infinity lets you in. “I’m sorry Satoru. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

It’s hard to wrap him in a hug. The brat’s too big. He sinks into your touch like a tiger, filled with dangerous claws, retracted just for your sake. He shakes the tiniest bit; even now, he’s keeping himself as a pinnacle. If you hear a sniffle or two, you don’t comment on it.

It’s why your heart breaks to tell him the truth.

“I can’t give you my name.” You whisper in his ear. He pulls back. He doesn’t look at you.

“Yeah, I know. I know. time-travel bullshit—”

“For now.” You add. “I can’t do that for now.”

Three pairs of eyes look at you. You’re not hiding behind Haibara anymore. You’re not trying to.

“December 24th, 2017. 8:06. Tokyo Skytree.” You look at him. “Can you wait until then?”

For you, it’d only be an hour. For Satoru, it’d be a decade.

You expect him to reject it, to yell at you. You decide if he wants to be selfish; you’d let him.

“If you don’t show up, I’ll turn evil.” You laugh. His grin widens and he’s back again. “I’m serious. I’ll take over the world. I’ll throw the biggest temper tantrum ever.”

“You’re such a brat.” There’s no hostility in your tone. “I will. I promise.”

‘I’ll save you,’ You promise in your head because he’s too prideful to hear it.

“Is it still possible for you to go back?” You ask, the wariness present again. “The higher ups haven’t taken any action against you, right?”

He shakes his head.

“I think Yaga might yell at me, but other than that.” He shrugs. “They’ll decide it’s teen rebellion and sweep it under the rug.”

You laugh again. Satoru shoots you a toothy grin.

When you reach out a hand, Satoru mirrors you. He clasps your hand in his. For once, you wonder how they’ll feel on your own.

“See ya’ later, Greeny.”

A blink. Satoru’s gone. Your hand is empty, and you’re standing in the streets of Shinjuku once again.

ⴵ

December 24th, 2017. 8:06, at the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

Why did you decide on that date and time for all the places? You were so fucking stupid. You needed to stop being so poetic.

It’s already 7:12 when you’re desperately waving down a taxi. The driver looks disinterested when you blubber out the location. When he tells you it’ll cost extra because Sumida City isn’t part of his route, you’re more than happy to fork over the money.

It’s already 7:35 when you stumble through the interiors of Tokyo Skytree town. It’s crowded. Fuck, it’s December 24th, of course people would be out and about.

At 7:44, you finally reach the observational building. And then you hit upon a snag.

It’s closed.

Renovations, the sign reads, accompanied by an irritatingly cute drawing of a cat, please come visit us next week.

Would this excuse be enough to satisfy Satoru? You’re only human. Surely he’d understand if you couldn’t make it because the entire building was shut down.

Or wait. Was this Satoru’s doing?

You look up at the tower. Lights were still on and flickering. No crowds. No people. No prying eyes.

Let it be known that you’ve never trespassed before, until you met Gojo Satoru.

With a guilty conscious, you step over the line. You justify it by convincing yourself you were saving the world because you know Satoru wasn’t joking a decade ago.

The elevators still worked. Thank God. Yet another hint he’s paving the way for you. You made the location, but it feels like you’re a mouse stuck in a human-designed maze. Even though you set up the game, he’s still managed to rig it.

You land on the first deck at 7:52. At 7:56, you reach the second observational deck.

It’s empty. You’ve never seen the skytree so empty before. Not a single soul is here except for you. Your footsteps echo across the floor. Were you early?

Out the corner of your eye, there’s a post-it note stuck on the window. A hand-drawn arrow. Up ahead, there’s another one.

You follow the next, and then the next. All the time you don’t know how to feel about him doing all of this just for an encounter. Something bubbles in your stomach. You’re pushing it down.

You follow the post-its until there’s one placed right on top of a door.

Authorized personnel only. Why does this brat continue to test you?

But it’s already 8:03; you’re far too deep to complain.

A service elevator greets you. If you press the button, it’ll take you all the way up to the broadcast equipment, the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

It’s different from the past two elevator rides. The service elevator isn’t all that polished. The wheels squeak a little too dangerously at times. It’s slower, too.

That’s bad, because now you’re starting to think.

That familiar feeling boils within your stomach, again. You’re anxious. It’s strange to say, but meeting Satoru through Suguru, meeting Satoru through Yu, it felt like you had a protective shell around yourself. You were free from his judgement, only invoking curiosity.

If you show yourself to him, how would he react? What would he say? Would he get angry that you made him wait a decade for such a blunder? Even worse, what if he doesn’t get angry?

What if—what if he’s disappointed by you?

Cold feet. It freezes your toes. You want to go back. You want the elevator to go back down, you want to go home and hide away.

But you promised Satoru. He deserves answers.

Pathetic answers are better than no answers at all.

Instead of your soul being protected by a sorcerer's body, it’s protected by your own. You’d steel yourself for whatever comes next. You could melt after.

It’s windy up here. That’s the first thing you notice. Icy wind cuts at your face and your eyes squint so they don’t dry out so quickly. It’s colder, too; your jacket is nice protection, but nothing helps your vulnerable hands.

But the view. Oh, what a view.

The sea of twinkling lights shines from the city. The sun has set, leaving Tokyo to do nothing but shine. She’s gorgeous like she’s picked the stars from the sky, burying them within her own soul. You could stay there forever, if she let you.

It’s 8:09. Satoru was late.

Or maybe he just wasn’t planning to show up.

You lean away from the railing. It’s just like him to make huge gestures and at the last moment, ditch everything. The balloon in your lungs deflates ever so slightly.

And then, you can feel hands.

Around your shoulders, caging you in. Large and warm despite the icy air. You know these hands. They’re familiar, even a decade later. His chest presses up against your back. His face settles in the crook of your neck.

His laugh tickles your ear, and you aren’t so cold anymore.

“Caught ya, Greeny.”

(“Did something happen to you, back there in the house?”

"Hm?" Suguru asked.

They were wading through long grass and overgrown weeds. Satoru glances at his friend. Suguru looks fine. His cursed energy has gone back to normal. That's probably good.

"You were just acting weird," Satoru said, "I mean you fell on your ass in front of a curse. Embarrassing."

Suguru huffed, a red hue across his cheeks. "Shut up, don't remind me."

'So he remembered,' Satoru thinks, 'didn't expect that.'

They're almost to the car when Suguru speaks again.

"Actually, I did feel a little strange," he says, "I felt like a wasn't really all there. There was this voice, guiding me along."

"Really?" Satoru shivers. "So like possession? How scary! "

So the entity within Suguru was a bad thing after all. He should try to get rid of it if it ever comes back. It might take a complex spell or something-

"Not really." Suguru said. "It's hard to explain, but it felt....nice."

"Nice?" Satoru echoes.

"Yeah."

And then it's quiet again.)

[paarthunaxx]

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 CALL MY NAME, I’M YOURS TO TAME — 18+

larissa weems x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

status: completed

summary: You and Larissa Weems have been best friends since your years spent together at Nevermore. You have been meeting for tea every week since your graduation. But when the pharmacy in Jericho runs out of heat suppressants, you have to miss your afternoon tea with her.

And Larissa, being the dutiful best friend, pays you a visit instead.

tags: smvt, fluff, werewolf reader, in heat, kn0tting, decades of mutual pining, established friendship, soft larissa weems, larissa weems with a d1ck, shapeshifting, p in v, nickname mommy, nickname puppy

read here on ao3!

“Here is your tea, dear.”

“Thanks, Riss,” You take the teacup from Larissa’s pale hands and rub the pad of your thumb over the painted golden rim of the cup before setting it down on a pretty white saucer. “So, anything else to catch me up on this week?”

Larissa takes a long sip from her own florally adorned teacup and sinks into the armchair across from you. “Do you remember Morticia Frump?” She asks with the smallest hint of bitterness on her tongue. It doesn't come as a surprise to you. Larissa is a sweet woman, but you don't think you've ever heard her speak about Morticia without that resentment in her voice.

“Yes. Your roommate from when we attended Nevermore?” You nod and settle back into your own chair, folding one leg over the other. You notice Larissa’s gaze lingering on them for a flash of a moment, but don’t bother bringing it up. “You’ve spoken to her recently?”

Larissa gives a grim incline of her head and huffs a soft sigh through her nose. “Indeed. She called last night to request that I meet her child and consider enrolling her in the school.”

“And will you?” You ask curiously, lifting your teacup and taking a slow sip. There is just the right amount of sugar and milk mixed in. Larissa always makes the perfect cup of tea.

“I have a duty to look after the children of outcasts. I would not cast a young girl out just because I am not on the best of terms with her mother,” Larissa whispers. “I just wish I did not have to meet Morticia in order to enrol her daughter. I’m afraid it will be too painful to see her again.”

You send a sympathetic smile in her direction and shift forward in your seat. Leaning across the coffee table, you reach out to squeeze her knee. Her breath hitches at the touch as she watches you like a hawk. “It’ll be okay, Riss. Everything happened so long ago. And if she annoys you… Just think about all the different ways you’d like to fight her, then tell me all about it next week.”

Larissa giggles at that and places her large hand over your smaller one which rests on her knee, giving it a gentle pat. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, which you mentally blame on static. “You are right. There’s no point in being so absorbed in the past.”

“I usually am right,” You tease with a soft laugh. “Be the bigger person.”

Larissa raises a neatly plucked eyebrow at that. An amused smirk dances across her painted lips and she quips, “Pun intended?”

You snort around another sip of tea, almost spitting the stuff everywhere. You manage to choke it down and the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. After your laughter trails off, you spend another half an hour catching each other up on everything that has happened in the past week. Just like you have been doing every week for… well, years.

Larissa has been your best friend since you both attended Nevermore. Many times you have looked at her and wondered if there could be something more between you, but you don’t even know if she would want that. If she even likes women. And you’re terrified to risk your friendship by asking her out… No matter how much you adore her.

When the teacups have been drained and the grandfather clock pushed up against the wall starts to chime the hour, you sigh and lean back in your chair. “Time for me to get going.”

Larissa tsks softly, a playful pout poking out her lower lip. “Shame. Time always flies by so quickly with you.”

“I know,” You agree with a short nod. “Maybe we should start doing sleepovers instead of tea.”

“Maybe,” She whispers. A soft pink blush dusts across her pale cheeks and she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. She nudges her empty cup of tea out of the way and rises from her chair, towering over you. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

Oh, how you'd love to climb her like a tree.

You follow her out of her dimly lit office and walk by her side as she leads you through the school to the large front entrance. You fit in some more idle chatter along the way through the familiar hallways, before coming to a stop on the stone steps outside.

“Until next week, dear,” Larissa leans down to wrap her arms around you, giving you a tight hug.

“See you then, Riss,” You stretch up on your tiptoes to hug her back, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of her sweet perfume lingering in your nose.

“I’ll be counting the minutes,” She whispers in your ear. There is such conviction in her soft voice that it feels as though she truly means those words.

She gives your waist a gentle squeeze and you reluctantly pull away from her. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as your brain immediately cries out in protest at the absence of her warmth. With one final goodbye, you turn away from her and make your way down the steps, bracing yourself for the walk home in the bitter afternoon air.

ᥫ᭡

You hum a soft tune to yourself as you bustle around your apartment, struggling with the bundle in your arms. You snatch up every pillow and blanket you can find, tossing them onto the bed to be arranged into a nest later. Each of them have been picked out specifically for the purpose of nesting, every one as warm and comfortable as possible. The pile on the bed is almost bigger than you, and you stand and stare at the mess of blankets with a proud smile on your face. Although you have your suppressants, it still feels comforting to bury into your nest during your heat, even if it is just to nap or read a book. Like being wrapped up in a warm hug from La—

You startle at the sudden shrill ringing of your phone from where it rests on your nightstand. You place a hand over your thundering heart and puff out a breath to calm yourself. In a few long strides, you cross the room and snatch the phone up to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hello! This is the Jericho pharmacy calling,” The familiar voice of Mrs Jones, the pharmacist, comes from the other end of the phone. “We are so terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but we will not be able to refill your prescription for suppressants at the moment. Our supplier has had a stock issue, and we have to wait for more to come from a bigger supplier in the city.”

“What?” You swallow hard, your eyes widening. Panic splits through you like branching lightning, your hand curling into a fist around the phone so hard you almost shatter it. “How long will that take?”

“Around a week and a half,” The pharmacist informs you.

“A week and a half? But… My heat starts tomorrow, and I don’t have any suppressants,” You whisper. “I haven’t gone through a heat in years. You don’t even have enough to get me through the week?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry. We can fill your next prescription free of charge as an apology for the delay. And if you need scent blockers, we can have them dropped outside your door.”

“Alright… Well, thank you for telling me. See you in a week and a half,” You hang up and toss your phone on the bed. Scrubbing your hands irately down your face, you mutter one word.

“Shit.”

ᥫ᭡

Sleep doesn’t come easily to you that night. Even wrapped up in the bundles of pillows and blankets that have been arranged for your nest, you can’t stop tossing and turning. Anxiety floods through your veins, making your body feel cold and your chest tight. It’s been so long since you allowed your body to go through a heat. There will be years of pent up energy in control of your body, and it's terrifying. You turned to the internet, searching through outcast forums to find out whether it will be more intense when it comes. Every werewolf in the world seems to be in agreement.

The longer it’s been, the worse your next heat will be.

By the time morning comes, you haven’t slept a wink. You sigh and force yourself out of your bed, shuffling to the kitchen to shove a cup of coffee down your throat. As you stir the sugar cubes into your favourite mug, your gaze happens to drift towards the calendar pinned up on your wall. On the square for that day, there is a large red circle with a little teacup scribbled in the middle.

“Shit,” You hiss for what feels like the millionth time in the last twelve hours. You stand there and stare at the doodle of the teacup, pondering whether you should still try to attend or call Larissa up and tell her you can’t make it to tea that day.

You know if you venture out of the house and your heat comes on, any alpha nearby will be able to smell you from a mile away. There may not be that many in Jericho, but even one would pose such a great danger to you… Never mind the werewolf students at Nevermore.

It would also be incredibly embarrassing to go into heat right in front of your best friend, and have her drive you home as you gush all over the seats of her car and whine in need. You shudder at the thought of what Larissa might think of you after something like that.

Before you can even make a proper decision on what to do, an odd feeling shoots through you. You feel your knees going weak, a sticky liquid clinging to your thighs and soaking your shorts. Another curse slips out as you clutch onto the edge of the counter, gasping at the coiling sensation twisting through your lower stomach. Your whole body shakes and you grab onto the counter for dear life.

Looks like you definitely won’t be seeing Larissa today.

You abandon your coffee, letting it go cold on the counter as you drag yourself back into your bedroom. It’s a difficult trip. Your legs threaten to give out beneath you the whole way there, your mind screaming at you to lay down with them spread and just hope an alpha happens to come along. Your brain has never felt so fuzzy before. You’ve never felt so stupid.

The moment you make it back to your room, you throw yourself into the nest. Your clothes are off in an instant. Flung carelessly in a heap in the corner. With trembling hands, you reach into your nightstand and grab a small purple bullet vibrator, fumbling around to switch it on. The trusty little toy has been used many times in the past while you thought of Laris— of… stuff. As soon as it makes contact with your aching clit you whine and arch off the bed, your body flooding with relief now that you finally have some friction. You bring yourself to the peak within minutes. And again. And again. And again…

But it’s not enough.

You shove your fingers inside while stimulating yourself with the bullet. Two isn’t enough. You add another. Not enough. You sob and writhe, your stupid mutt brain and your body aching for one thing. A quick glance at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand shows the time Larissa should be waking up for the day. You know you should let her know while your brain still works somewhat.

You lick your dry lips and reach out for your phone. Reluctantly, you switch off the vibrator and set it to the side while you call Larissa. She answers almost immediately.

“Hello, darling,” Her sweet, sleepy voice comes through the other end of the phone. “Are you alright?”

Biting back the soft whine that bubbles up from your chest proves almost impossible. The sound of her voice sends another flash of desire through you, your essence coating your shaking thighs. “Larissa,” You whisper hoarsely. “I… I can’t… Make it… Today…”

Concern rings clear through her voice as she hears you panting. “Oh? Is everything alright, dear?”

“Yeah,” Your fingers gravitate towards your swollen clit, rubbing at it slowly as you listen to her speak. You gasp before you can bite back the sound, and clear your throat. “Yeah. Just… Don’t feel so good. I’ll see you next week?”

“Okay… Get better soon, alright? Do call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” The words come out in a breathless mumble before you hang up the phone and chuck it to the side. Just the memory of her voice has you growing wetter by the second, your fingers coated in your juices as you desperately try to satisfy yourself. Flashes of her face shoot through your mind, of her large hands and long fingers…

The vibrator is snatched up again in an instant.

You spend the next hour pleasing yourself without a break. Overstimulation makes your body jolt and twitch, but you can’t stop. You can’t. It just isn’t enough. Your mind is well and truly mush at this point, shown in the way your gaze drifts towards the door and for just a second, you consider opening the door and letting your scent waft out. Waiting for the first alpha to come and claim you.

For a moment, you seriously think about it. It would make your heat more bearable. Yes, said alpha might do horrible things to you, and you don’t really want that, but…

Before you can do anything stupid, the doorbell rings.

Sobbing in frustration, you set your vibrator down again. You force yourself up on shaky legs, not bothering to put pants on. You simply tug the oversized t-shirt down over yourself and shuffle to the front door, yanking it open.

Standing there in front of you is Larissa. Clutched in her hands is a wicker basket stuffed full of gifts. Teabags, cough drops, a couple of face masks, some flowers and a small teddy bear. “Hello,” Larissa greets you with a bright smile. “Since you aren’t well, I thought I would bring—” As soon as she catches sight of you, her words trail off. “...Oh.”

“Larissa,” You gasp. You have to grip onto the door frame to keep yourself upright. Your cheeks are flushed beyond belief, your eyes glazed over and distant. There is a thin layer of sweat on your skin, not to mention the wet patches on the back of your long shirt and your thighs. “I’m in heat.”

Her own cheeks flush when she hears those words. “I… I thought you didn’t go into heat. I thought you took pills.”

“I do. Pharmacy ran out.” Those are the only words you can manage before another tidal wave of need crashes through you and you whimper, sinking to the ground.

“Oh, my darling…” Larissa coos and invites herself inside. She closes and locks the door behind her, sets the gift basket down on the coffee table, then lifts you gently from the floor. She pulls her coat off and folds it over the back of the couch, then slips her feet out of her high heels. “Come on, my sweet. Let’s get you nice and comfortable, okay?”

You know there is no comfortable for you right now, but you don’t dare mention that to her when she is being so sweet. So attentive. You feel yourself getting more wet.

She scoops you up into her arms with ease and carries you to the bedroom. Her chest rumbles a little when she clears her throat upon seeing the vibrator carelessly left on your soaked sheets. Thankfully, she says nothing about it and carefully sets you down.

It kills you to have her so close. You just want to rut against her milky white thigh and have her praise you, you want those long fingers inside you, you want her mouth on you. You’ve loved her for decades, but you’ve never felt such intense need for her in all that time.

“Larissa,” You whimper again, but you have nothing to say. You just need her attention.

“Poor thing,” She whispers. She hesitates for half a second before reaching out to brush her fingertips over your slick thigh. “What can I do for you, dear?”

That simple touch over your thigh alone makes you jolt and gasp. “Don’t… ask me that,” You plead. “You won’t like the answer.”

Larissa leans closer, her larger frame looming over yours as she reaches her free hand out to cup your chin. Her fingers are so gentle as they tilt your head back, as though she is handling something as delicate as a porcelain doll. “What can I do for you, dear?” She repeats in a firm whisper.

You melt as you’re forced to stare up into her sapphire eyes. It feels like you could become nothing more than a puddle in a pile of blankets if she continues this. “I…”

“Tell me,” She urges. Keeping her gaze fixed on you, she dips her head and presses a sweet little kiss to your jaw. “Let me help you. Tell me how.”

As pathetic as it is, the very little resolve you had left snaps as soon as you feel her lips on your skin. “Fuck me,” You pant, raising your hips unabashedly.

“Are you sure?” She asks, her grip on your chin growing slightly firmer. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’ll do that for you if that’s what you need, but I don’t want you to regret it later…”

“Larissa!” You groan before breaking out into a pathetic ramble. “I won’t regret it. I have loved you since we were teenagers, you’re the love of my life, there is literally nobody else in this world I would rather have help me with this. You must know that. You must have picked up on how much I love y—“

Before you can even finish that word, her lips are on yours.

Both of her hands move to pin your hips to the bed, forcing you to keep still instead of uselessly writhing around. The sheets beneath you become soaked almost to the point of ruin as she kisses you hard, her tongue brushing against yours desperately. You struggle to keep up with the searing heat of her kiss, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she takes complete control. Your hips fight against her hold, and as a result she pins you down harder.

“Riss,” You whine against her lips.

“I know, darling,” She shushes you, one of her hands drifting from your hip to between your legs. You gasp out as her fingers press against you, teasing between your folds. “I know. Give me a minute, okay?”

“Can’t,” A soft sob slips past your parted lips as you pant, the pure desire for her making your body shake. “Can’t. Need you to knot me.”

“You need to wait a moment for my powers to work,” As though trying to sate you for the moment, two of Larissa’s long fingers slip inside you while her thumb rubs at your clit. When you gasp and arch into the feeling, she coos softly and begins kissing along the column of your throat. “My poor puppy. So desperate, aren’t you?”

All you can do is whine, unable to decide whether you should arch into her kisses or her fingers. Another orgasm rips through you as she circles your clit, your body squeezing around her fingers as you gasp and squirm.

“That’s it,” Larissa praises, lightening her hold on your hip. “That’s it, sweetheart. Ride it out.”

You don’t need more convincing than that as your hips move wildly through it, taking everything those digits are giving you.

But you still need more. More sobs leave you and you stare up at her pleadingly. The ability to form words on your lips has left you entirely. All you can do is whimper like the pathetic little thing you are.

“I know, puppy,” She suddenly slips her fingers out of you, making you whine louder. She shushes you firmly and you fall silent in an instant. She straightens up to her full height and begins hitching her skirt up to her thighs, unclipping her stockings and pulling down her panties. Your whole body seizes up at the sight of the penis beneath her skirt, hard and already leaking. She seems to have taken size into account, knowing you will be stretched with the knot. It isn’t too long or thick, made perfectly to fit in your tight hole.

She’s so damn considerate you can’t believe it.

Larissa lays back against the mountain of pillows you have set up, giving herself a tantalising stroke before patting her lap. “Come here, pup.”

You don’t hesitate, scrambling across the bed and setting yourself on one of her large thighs. You fight the urge to rut against it, knowing there is a much better reward waiting right there for you if you’re a good girl for her. She rests her hands on your hips and carefully guides you over here. The leaking tip of her cock rubs against your folds, teasing your clit.

“Are you positive you want this?” Larissa questions in a gentle whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It won’t hurt,” You assure her and cup her cheek. A little smile twists at your lips as she leans into the touch and sighs. Even if she hadn't created her cock to fit you perfectly, you would be so soaked and opened up by this point she could fit inside easily without hurting you.

“Okay. Relax for me, dear,” She nods. She surges forward to capture your lips with her own again. Her big hands pull you closer, and as she distracts you by kissing you like a woman starved, she slips inside you. Both of you gasp in unison, the sensation unfamiliar to each of you. She groans as your tight pussy clenches around her, taking her time to sink deeper and deeper inside you.

That isn’t going to fly with you.

Without warning, you slam your hips down and sheathe her fully inside you. She moans in surprise and chokes out, “Darling—”

Finally getting what you’ve wanted this whole time, you don’t stop. You fuck yourself feverishly on top of her, taking her cock deep inside you over and over again. You keen and whimper as your lips trail down to her neck, sucking and biting at every inch of pale skin you can reach. Even as your mind starts to blur, you have to force yourself not to sink your tiny fangs into her throat and claim her.

“Darling, please, slow down—” Despite her pleading words, her hands continue to guide your hips at the brutal pace you have set for yourself. Her head tips back against the headboard, harsh pants leaving her parted lips every second. “Gods, you need to slow down—”

The stretch of her cock inside you is like pure heaven. To finally be filled, and have her doing it, is the most exhilarating thing you could ever dream of. Having her hit that spot deep inside you, hearing her moans and knowing you are the cause of them. You’re sure you’ve had this wet dream about a hundred times over the past couple of decades, but fuck none of those dreams could ever compare to the real thing.

“You want me to slow down?” You pant in her ear, willing to do whatever she wants even that means slowing down when you just want her to fuck your brains out.

“Gods, no,” She whispers and pulls you down as she starts meeting you halfway in quick thrusts.

You moan in sheer delight, melting against her chest as she fucks you hard. Like she’s been holding back these same feelings for just as long as you have, and now she finally gets to let them out. She holds you tight to her chest with one hand while the other squeezes your ass, kneading it appreciatively between her fingers.

“Riss, I—” You gasp as yet another climax starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. You can already feel this one is more intense than the others, and not just because you’re far beyond oversensitive at this point.

“That’s it,” Larissa coos, “come for me, darling. Let me feel you coming around me like a good pup.”

That is all the encouragement you need. This orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami as she pumps into you hard enough to fill the room with harsh slapping sounds. Your nails tear into her shoulders, sharpening into claws that rip right through her nice blazer. Clinging onto her for dear life, your whiny moans fill the room. All you can do is keep riding her and taking her with every deep thrust as your body jolts and writhes under her hold, your whole being on fire with the pleasure she gives you.

“You want mommy to knot you, sweetheart? Want me to fill up that sweet little pussy?” She pants. Your body tightens around her cock at the sound of those words and she giggles, gripping your hips and dragging you down even harder into every snap of her own. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes,” You pant, nuzzling your nose into her neck and becoming pliant in her hands, allowing her to do whatever she wants with you. “Please please please. Please knot me.”

Moments later, she gives you exactly what you want. She moans sweetly into your ear, her thrusts growing sloppy before she buries herself all the way inside you. She gasps and pants as her release pulses through you, the base of her cock swelling and keeping her stuck inside your pussy.

“You’re mine, now,” She whispers possessively into your ear. You’ve never heard her use that tone with you before, and it makes you shiver with another wave of need. If she wasn’t already stuck in you, you’d be riding her all over again just for that. She brushes some hair back from your sweaty face and kisses your temple. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“I’m yours,” You repeat in a brainless whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Larissa sighs, brushing her nose against your cheek. “I love you so, so much.”

She holds you for a long time, rubbing her hands up and down your back and praising you in a gentle voice. When she can finally pull out of you, she does so slowly, not wanting to hurt your sensitive hole. She curls a finger inside you to feel her own come filling you, and shivers at the feeling of her own stickiness on her fingertip.

“Just beautiful,” She murmurs and casts her blue eyes up to your face. “Do you feel better now, pup?”

“Yeah,” You nod, still a panting mess -- but a satisfied panting mess. “Thank you, Larissa. You… You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to,” She scoops you up and holds you close to her chest, before slipping her long legs over the side of the bed and carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

“Larissa?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Did you really mean it?” You ask nervously as you peer up at her. “When you said you loved me?”

“Of course,” Larissa smiles down at you. Her eyes shine with sincerity, and you can tell there isn’t a hint of dishonesty in her words. “I’ve loved you for… a very long time, sweetheart.”

There is a flutter of hope deep in your stomach as you swallow down a lump in your throat. “You have?”

“Yes.”

You can’t even bring yourself to say all of the things you want to as she perches you on the edge of the bath and begins running the hot water. As the steam fills the bathroom and she pours scented liquid into the water, all you can do is stare at her. At the red lipstick smudged across her beautiful lips, at her flushed cheeks visible even beneath her pale foundation. Her hair is still neatly pinned into place, she still looks eternally graceful despite the slight dishevelled appearance around her. This woman loves you. This… this goddess, standing before you, loves you.

“Larissa?” You clear your throat.

“Yes?” She chuckles, clearly amused by your line of questioning.

“After my heat ends, would you like to go on a date with me?” You blurt out before you can talk yourself out of it.

Larissa watches you for a long moment, a smile twitching at her painted lips. Eventually she nods, reaching out to caress your face. “I would love that.”

She bathes you with a great deal of care, making sure to be delicate near your swollen clit and cum-filled hole. You soon convince her to join you as another rush of heat goes through you, and she knots you again in the bath. Then she has to wash you all over again. Over the course of the next three days, the two of you can’t stop fucking. A couple of decades of pent up desire makes itself known in the course of a few days. During some point in those three days, she creates a set of long canine teeth for herself, sinks them into your throat and marks you as her own. At the end of it, you’re both utterly exhausted, but you’re happy.

So fucking happy.

[tinyproprodigy]

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷

"C r u s h , c r u s h , c r u s h ."

Bakugou Katsuki x reader - (NB)

• Bakugo's crush on you started innocently enough - he begrudgingly admired your work ethic and quirk control during training sessions. But then he noticed the way your (e/c) eyes squinted slightly when you concentrated, and the adorable crinkle of your nose when you were deep in thought, and suddenly his heart was exploding like one of his nicely aimed AP shots.

• Whenever you're in the vicinity, Bakugo can't help but sneak glances your way, only to whip his head around with a fierce scowl when someone (usually Kaminari) catches him staring. "I wasn't looking at that loser, you idiot!" he'll growl, tiny explosions sparking at his fingertips.

• Mina and Sero live for teasing Bakugo about his crush, much to his chagrin. They'll make over-exaggerated googly eyes at him whenever you walk by, or loudly proclaim things like, "There goes the love of Bakugo's life!" This inevitably results in Bakugo chasing them around, threatening bodily harm if they don't shut their "damn traps."

• There's a running bet among the class on when (or if) Bakugo will finally admit his feelings. Kaminari has money on "Never, he's too proud." Mina is convinced he'll blurt it out in a fit of rage someday. Kirishima just wants his bro to be happy.

• In the rare moments when Bakugo musters the courage to talk to you, he instantly reverts to a flustered, stuttering mess. His ears burn bright red as he tries (and fails) to act casual, inevitably resorting to angry yelling to cover up his embarrassment. "Quit staring at me like that, (L/N)! Don't you have better things to do than bother me?"

• Despite his gruff exterior, Bakugo is incredibly protective of you. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, they'll find themselves on the receiving end of his explosive fury. He insists it's just because you're a fellow hero-in-training and he refuses to let his talents be outshone, but the class knows the truth.

• There's a notebook buried deep in Bakugo's room where he's meticulously analyzed all your quirk's capabilities, strong points, and areas for improvement. In the margins, doodles of your face and little explosions shaped like hearts decorate the pages. If anyone ever found it, he'd simply combust from mortification.

• During particularly intense battles or training exercises, Bakugo finds himself pushing harder than ever before, determined to impress you with his skills. Afterwards, he'll try to play it cool, like your presence had no effect on him whatsoever. But the glow of pride on his face when you compliment his power is unmistakable.

• You, precious reader, remain delightfully oblivious to Bakugo's inner turmoil. You see him as a passionate classmate and respected rival, making his crush on you all the more endearing (and frustrating) for the explosive boy. The rest of Class 1-A watches on in amusement, waiting for the inevitable explosion when Bakugo's feelings finally reach critical mass.

• No matter how much he growls and glares, at the end of the day Bakugo is an awkward teenage boy stumbling through his first real crush. And while his methods are unorthodox (and often involve yelling), his feelings for you are as bright and dazzling as one of his explosive blasts, lighting up the sky for all to see.

[allaboutsturns]

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

matthew sturniolo x reader

content/warning(s): angst, fluff, arguing, swearing, kissing.

summary: you and matt get into an argument after you guys go too long without communication. harsh things are said but in the end you guys work it out and listen to each other.

Don't cry, or do whatever makes you comfortable

I'm tired too.

you looked at matt who sighed for the fifth time within ten minutes, finally deciding to ask him what was wrong, "are you okay, baby?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed slightly. your boyfriend looked over at you and shrugged, "fine." he muttered out the single word and you tilted your head at his dismissive attitude.

"don't seem fine." you said under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear not exactly what you said but that you had said something, "huh?" he asked, now facing you on the couch. you shrugged in response.

he rolled his eyes in your direction but you ignored it and looked away, crossing your arms over your chest. "god you are so annoying, y/n. i don't know why you're acting like this right now. can we not?" you felt your heart pang as the words repeated in your head, 'god you are so annoying, y/n.'

you turned your body to face your boyfriend whom you loved so entirely, "annoying?" you asked as tears tugged at the rims of your waterlines. matt nodded slowly while pinching the bridge of his nose, "yeah. i constantly have a headache because of you, all you do is talk and get in my business and i'm so sick of it." he groaned before looking directly into your watery eyes, shooting a glare into them. it was a look of genuine disgust and annoyance.

it felt like someone had ripped your heart right out of your fucking chest and stomped on it in front of you. after a couple seconds of silence and staring at each other a quiet sob escaped your gentle lips and tears began to race down your cheeks, "fuck you, asshole. if you don't want me around because i give you headaches all the time you coulda just said that." you quickly reached your hands up to cover your face before you got up off the couch and quickly walked to you and matt's shared bedroom.

there's nothin' left to say.

matt watched you exit the room, his eyes followed your movements closely. your tears and words hadn't registered in his mind until you were unable to be seen from his position on the couch. his heart dropped to his stomach but he sat there for a moment. he felt guilty almost immediately and wanted to apologize but he wasn't sure if you'd want him to.

let's call a truce,

'cause i don't really wanna go to bed

like this.

after about thirty minutes of sitting in complete silence, matt got up and began slowly walking over to your bedroom. he pinched the bridge of his nose harshly, "fuckin' idiot." he whispered to himself, disappointed with the role he played during the recent argument.

he reached one of his hands towards the doorknob and slowly twisted it open, "y/n...?" he spoke gently, as if anything he were to say in this moment could break you to pieces like a fragile glass sculpture. when his eyes landed on you his heart broke even more than it already had.

you were curled up on his side of the bed wearing one of his hoodies. you were holding his pillow tightly, breathing in as much of his scent as you could just in case this was the last time you would get to. your body heaved up and down as quiet sobs continued to leave your lips, tears still streaming aggressively down your face and onto the pillow. some tears managed to stain the cloth of his hoodie but that was entirely unimportant to him in this moment.

he quietly closed the door and walked over to the end of the bed, "baby, i am so sorry." he whispered while sitting down at your feet, placing a hand on your calf. you didn't realize he had come in because you have this habit of blocking everything out when you're upset, it was a defense mechanism.

you buried your face further into the pillow, too scared to look at him, "annoying..." you whispered. it was muffled because the pillow was covering your entire face. matt's face twisted into an expression of guilt and sorrow. he started moving his thumb back and forth gently against the comforter that covered your body.

"i didn't mean it..." he muttered, still so scared that you would crack at any moment. you moved the pillow away from your face and looked at your boyfriend who looked absolutely crushed. you had mascara running down your face and your eyes were red and puffy, tears staining your cheeks. he moved his hand from your calf to your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

i don't know what it's like to be you,

i don't know what it's like but i'm dying to.

"i don't know what it's like to be you," he stated quietly, "but i do know that you're so scared of being annoying..." he paused for a moment when he felt his throat closing up, "and i took advantage of that because i was frustrated, stressed, and overwhelmed," he sighed, looking down at the hand that remained in his lap, "i let my emotions get the best of me and i know that's not an excuse but i am truly sorry." he rubbed his thumb against your cheek gently before looking back at your face, sorrow and guilt painting his beautiful blue eyes that you loved so much.

"do you hate me..? am i annoying...?" you finally mustered up the courage to ask the question that was burning a whole in your brain. he shook his head frantically and took one of your hands in his free hand, squeezing it three times. you guys did this thing ever since you started talking, knock three times, honk three times, squeeze three times. it was another way the two of you said 'i love you' without saying it.

"no, honey. not at all. you are my moon and all my stars, i could never get annoyed by you," he reassured, "i promise." he took his hand out of yours and reached a pinky towards you, "pinky." he said as he interlocked your pinky fingers. he planted a gentle kiss to your lips while your pinkies were still intertwined together.

you pulled your pinky away from his and smiled gently, "okay," you said quietly, the vibrations of your voice hurt your sore throat so you couldn't speak loudly. he smiled gently at you, "okay.." he whispered in reply.

no matter what you say i won't love you less,

and i'd be lying if i said that i do.

"i love you, no matter what i say i will always love you." he said as he pulled you further onto him. you guys had been cuddling for about an hour now, just listening to each other's calm breathing. you were extra lucky because you got to listen to his beating heart which was one of your favorite things to do in the entire world.

"i love you so much, baby," you paused and nuzzled further into his chest, "i always have and always will." you said as you forced yourself away from his chest, placing a gentle kiss to his lips before returning yourself to the comfortable position you had just been in.

you tapped the side of his ribcage three times and he kissed the top of your head three times.

i don't know what it's like.

the two of you eventually fell asleep in each others arms, both knowing damn well that next time there would be communication and discussion of feelings. it's so important to you and matt knows that. it's important to him too but he looses sight of that sometimes, and that's okay. he'll make sure to work on his communication skills because you're not someone that he ever wants to loose.

Y'ALL it's been so long omfg i'm so sorry that i forgot to feed u guys... i love u so much i hope this suffices. i've been so fucking busy and the writers block has been literally insufferable bro. i have like 2 drafts written up for u cuties i js need to gain the motivation to actually finish them. i've also been listening to shawn mendes and why don't we again so expect fics based around those songs. anyways, love u guys xx!

also i js wanna say thank u guys so much for 200 followers! we're already almost to 300 and it's mind blowing. the amount of gratitude i feel because of the overwhelming support is unreal. i truly appreciate n love u guys soso much!

- ace <3

taglist: @whoisabbyysblog @mattyblover07 @b2cute @samandcolbyfan22 @h3arts4harry @nickgetsmewetter

[lxnarphase]

PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro

[buckysgrace]

Could I request a little fluff of steve making reader breakfast the morning after??

You waddled your way from the bathroom to the kitchen, wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of panties as your body ached in protest. You were sore. Very, very sore.

Steve was in front of the stove as you wobbled towards him, wearing an old pair of basketball shorts and long socks. You drifted your eyes across his bare back, taking in his constellations of moles before he snapped his head towards you.

"I made pancakes," He started as he glimpsed towards you, a gentle smile pulled onto his lips, "We're out of about, uh everything else. But there is apple juice." He added as he turned towards you, giving your cheek a gentle kiss.

You sighed deeply as your body meshed against his, fitting like a puzzle piece as he slowly inspected you. His eyes fell to your neck, likely taking in the marks that he'd left on you from last night.

"Mhm," You hummed, biting back a giggle as he wrapped his warm arms around your waist. He nuzzled the tip of his nose against your cheek, smiling brightly as he inhaled your scent, "Don't burn them." You teased, listening to the way he dramatically whined before he pulled away.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked as he began to scrape the spatula underneath the edge of the pancake, knitting his eyebrows together in concentration before he got it flipped over. He grinned as he held up the pan, showing how it was the perfect shade of golden brown.

"Incredible," You added as you slowly straddled the stool, the area between your thighs still a little sore, "I slept so hard I didn't dream of anything."

"Is that good?" He looked back at you curiously, his brown eyes wide for a moment as he examined you. You crossed your legs, not failing to notice the way he followed your movements.

"Yes," You replied with a grin, "It means I slept really good. Like a baby." You added, watching the way he began to cut your pancake up for you. He squeezed a good amount of syrup onto it next, wincing as the sticky liquid dripped onto his fingers.

"Really?" He asked as he washed his fingers off, glancing over at you every so often to confirm that you were still alright. You pressed your lips together as a smile began to form. He was cute. And sweet.

"Mhm," You added as you rested your cheek against your hand, "You have a soft bed. And arms." You told him, leaning forward as he fed you the first bite of the pancake. You chewed on it, impressed with how good it tasted.

"Could be yours." Steve told you slowly as he removed the fork from your mouth, slowly dragging it across your bottom lip. You licked away the sticky syrup as you chewed on the fluffy pancake.

"Your arms?" You covered your mouth, furrowing your eyebrows together as you questioned him. You hid your smile easily this time as a curious look formed on features. He parted his pink lips, then pressed them together before he started again.

"Wha-, no," He responded with a laugh, "My bed. It could be yours too." He clarified with a nod of his head, turning his attention towards the banana that he seemed focused on peeling.

Your heart began to hammer roughly as another smile grew, more serious this time as you took in the way his cheeks were beginning to flush. You exhaled quickly, not wanting to keep him waiting.

"I'd like that," You told him as his eyes snapped towards you, like he was once again confirming that you meant it, "We're going to have to go grocery shopping first though." You told him seriously, pointing the fork playfully to show that you meant business. He chuckled at you, eyes warm and filled with joy. Yeah, you could get used to this.

[poppy-metal]

the thought of patrick riding ur face after practice is gonna make me FAINT.

he literally would shove ur face into his musky scent until it’s all ur able to smell for hours

he’s so gross but he loves gross sex

my head goes dizzy thinking about it like he could shower but he comes to visit you and you grab his wrist as he starts towards your bathroom with that big eyed look and he grins - "what?" when you pull him to you "you want a kiss, what? hm?" knowing full well what you want, but wanting you to say it.

presses it even further by saying "m'all sweaty i should shower - you dont want me too? I'm really fucking swamped today, practice was hell." and you whine, you hate him you hate him because him talking about how gross he is just makes your mouth water. hes the one who turned you into a freak, why is he making you spell it out?

"patrick please - just -" you tug on the band of his nylon shorts. his skin is slick with sweat. his pubes peeking from the fabric, dark and curled with the humidity of being contained all day. "let me...."

"let you......?" but he lets you pull his shorts down. bites his bottom lip when his aching cock bounces free, fat and filling with blood. he's so clammy between his legs his balls are sticking to one thigh. "fuck, that feels good. been crammed in there all day - shit needs to air out."

you lower to your knees - back pressed against your bed. head craning up to look at him with submissive eyes that make him groan. he reaches down to grip himself. he's damp with sweat, his cock slick in his hand. he can feel how moist he is everywhere - wet with perspiration that's turned into a heady damp musk. he can smell it wafting from his crotch to where he stands, knows the smell will be hitting your nose soon enough and he really should shower, scrub his dick and balls and ass raw till hes squeaky clean and fresh for you. but you dont want that. he can see by the way you're nearly fucking drooling at the sight of him, clenching your thighs and waiting so patiently. you still haven't asked though.

he gives himself one long stroke.

"let me use your shower." he says. "then i can feed you this dick."

your bottom lip juts out. you shake your head. patrick bites his lip to hide a smile, pumps himself another time, squeezes his ripe head. "no?"

"please," your voice is small, whipser thin. you look near tears with embarrassment. you're so fucking hot. "i dont want you to shower. i want.... i want you like this i want.... i w- wanna put my face in it -"

his cock throbs in his hand. he's so hot he's almost a fucking furnace. he reaches down to squeeze his aching sack, "oh?" he groans, "fuck, that's disgusting, baby, you know how fucking rank sweaty dick is?" he licks his lips. "nah, but you're a slut, huh. bet you fucking want me to ride your face, make you gag on my dirty nuts."

you're nodding, whining as you reach up to pinch your own nipples, horny little minx that you are. "gonna give it to you, then." he grunts, approaching you till hes nearly standing over you. he spreads his legs wide enough that your body fits directly under him. from your view, you have a direct line of sight between his legs, all you can see is the underside of his thick veiny cock, his heavy drooping sack and the tangle of hair below it that trails between his asscheeks. your cunt leaks and you press the heel of your palm into it. "don't fucking beg for air when you asked for this -" and he squats down, bracing his hand against your bed to balance himself as he lowers himself against your face.

he doesn't spend time working you up to it, you'd done this plenty of times, you have a few seconds to gulp in air, breathe in the heady musk of his sweat, eyes stinging at how potent and ripe it is - and then his fuzzy sack is pressing against your face. his balls are so massive - full and plump - that they completely cover your nose and mouth, squishing against you as patrick basically uses your face as a chair. the weight makes your neck strain and you know hes holding a little bit of himself off you so you dont die but it still makes your muscles burn and ache with the strain. and that makes you fucking moan. your lips parting under the soft furry skin of his balls to tongue them.

patrick groans above you. looks down, but he cant really see you, so he reaches down to grip his hard cock which had been resting on your forehead. holds himself up so he can see you a little better, and "shit. " his balls twitch in your greedy mouth, one of the fat stones slipping fully into the open wet hole to be sucked. "give me those eyes. let me see you when you tongue bathe my fucking balls."

your eyes flutter up to meet his, though you cant really see with the water in your eyes, the tears slipping down your temples. one of his fingers rubs the salty tears away for you, rocking his hips against your face so his sack glides back and forth along your lips and tongue and nose. his other hand strokes himself lazily. he doubts it'll take him long to nut, with you breathing into his balls like that, gasping for air and finding none, just more of his sweaty flesh to invade your senses.

"you're so dirty - my dirty beautiful girl." god it feels so fucking good. he lets spit drip from his lips, lubes his dick with it and starts with the quick fast pumps. ones that have his nuts bouncing lightly against you. "lick me fucking clean - c'mon. - wanna feel that tongue."

you whine and the sound reverberates against his sack. your tongue comes out and you're licking greedily across the velvelty skin of him, rolling his balls against your muscle. when he lifts them a little you allow your tongue to dip lower, tonguing his taint and then his inner tighs. you suction your mouth and suck, feel his sweat pool in your mouth and you swallow it. you're so hungry for it. diving back into his fatty potent flesh and drooling around him, swishing him around on your tongue like mouthwash and patricks eyes nearly fucking roll out of his skull.

he pulls back - just to angle his cock down to your swelling pouting mouth, already open and pink inside. his tip is fucking throbbing and leaking steadily, flushed an angry viseral red that needs tending to.

"give me that mouth - oh yeah - that's it -" you take him so well. his rigid length slides in easy over your gyrating tongue - cramming himself down your throat with one languid thrust. "takes me just like that little pussy does - oh god. you're gonna make me cum -"

he slumps over you, your head trapped between his hips and the bed, neck extended as he humps down your throat with little to no consideration for your airway. your hands grip his slick hairy thighs. "open that fucking throat f'r me -" and you do. feel him punch at the very back of your esophagus, reaming you. your hand wildly flies to your own throat, petting at the skin. god, you can feel where hes extending the delicate skin there. you gargle around him, muscles spasming around his meat and he grunts - thrusts faster. his balls dancing on your chin tighten and pull close to his body. "fuck, you fucking gag on that shit - love it when you struggle on my cock - yeah. yeah, shit - fuck im coming - "

thick ropes of it plunge down your throat with his thrusts, pushing it down your stomach, leaving you no choice but to swallow the sour fluid. your eyes waters. your nose runs with snot. your mouth is drooling spit where its split obscenely wide around the cock filling it.

patrick rocks a few more times before he's slowly pulling free - a string of saliva connecting from his flagging tip to your lips. abused and puffy from a thorough face fuck. you gasp and pull in breaths, tears free streaming down your cheeks as you pant and heave.

you're so turned on your hands flutter over your cunt but you cant properly touch yourself, your brain is too fuzzy, you're too cockdrunk to think soundly. you're just throbbing throbbing throbbing. so fucking empty it actually hurts.

patricks hands go under your armpits, picking you up as easy as a limp ragdoll. he lets you flop back onto your bed and you're reaching for him, and hes coming down on you and his tongue is in your mouth sucking the rest of the spit there into his own and then he leans up. lets all that drool and saliva drip down onto his still hard dick - "nod if you're still with me," he pants, because sometimes when you get like this, you need to be cuddled and brought back to earth, not more sex, but you're rocking under him eagerly, legs spreading, the wet slit of your pussy swelled up with greed and your hole a wet sheath begging to be filled. you nod. "good, good. god, i need to fuck this pussy -"

he grips himself and guides himself in, in, in. you both groan. lips coming together in more of a sloppy mesh than an actual kiss.

its hard and intense immediately. hard pumps of his hips against yours, wet slaps filling the room. your bed rocks with the motion and your legs are rising, rising, rising, wrapping around his tuat flexing waist.

"yes." you babble over and over, "yes, yes, yes. i love you - oh god! - i love you, daddy fuck - fuck my pussy, yes-"

he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, groaning loudly. he works into you harder, his skin gleaming with sweat from fucking you now, your whole bed is gonna be damp with your sticky lovemaking and he loves it, "love you. fuck, god, i love you, baby. love this tight little cunt on my cock -"

[elizzsush]

Beastmen Courting Rituals | TWST

Savanaclaw Dorm X Reader

Leona X Reader, Ruggie X Reader, Jack X Reader,

---- BeastFolk typically have instinctual ways they begin 'courting' or a relationship, some even taught from a young age certain courting rituals. (Non-Human courting rituals part 1/3)

Note: Fun fact, I began making Fae courting first but then I posted the future kid thing and didn't want to post two Diasomnia so close together!

Jack:

It started very small, one day he was there, the next he was there again, and the next he was also there.

He was always there.

Then it got a bit... weird? You noticed that when he would approach you, he was making this grumbling, whining sounds? You don't even think he realized it. You chose to ignore this fact for now, maybe it was just because he was a beast man? You didn't want to be rude by saying anything- or make him feel embarrassed.

After that he began to help you with your hair more as well. Well, your general appearance. He'd help you fix your uniform and brush off any dust or anything you'd may want or need help with. In turn you helped him back, it was only fair after all!

Never mind his flushed face while you did this, moving small hairs back in place and picking any particles off his own uniform.

"There's our dynamic pair! beauty and the beast man." Ace teased, a confident grin on his face while you sat down at the table, Jack not too far behind you.

Jack just rolled his eyes, a small blush on his face as he ignored Ace. Aka, while he did the smart thing to do. You, however, have yet to learn that Despite so many months of friendship and raised an eyebrow at the Card boy. "What are you talking about." You rolled your eyes at the boy.

"You don't know? but it's so obvious!" Ace frowned, Grim nodding beside him in agreement, though you doubted he even knew what the boy was talking about. "His tail is always wagging like a fan when he's talking to ya! He's totally in l-" just as Ace was about to finish speaking Jack piped up, his ears straight on his head in an alert manner and his tail stiff behind him.

"I didn't get anything to drink when we got food." He excused himself, you tried to get a look at his face because he wasn't looking at you but he didn't look back and stood up.

Glancing at his tray, you didn't fail to notice the milk carton on it. Plush, Jack was always the prepared, diligent one. That was so odd... You glanced back at Ace only to find him laughing to himself like the funniest thing just happened. "Whatever, where is Deuce?" You rolled your eyes.

"Why should I know? I'm not his mom."

After that, Ace started calling you dense. Maybe you were because you really didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

After that it was like there was a switch in Jack. He began to be touchier, not that you minded of course! Cuddling with friends is always nice, and you liked to think it was because of his more... animalistic features and instincts he was cuddlier.

But somehow it felt more intimate. He'd nuzzle his face into your neck and hang off of you like he was a coat instead of a large man who was... well jacked.

You'd often wrestle him off of you because he had gotten into the habit of, as you said before, hanging off of you! He'd whine and almost instinctually wrestle you back to stay into his place.

You may not be as strong as him, but you also didn't hate the way he'd run with you at P.E. You knew he could easily run laps around everyone, but instead he stuck with you. Smiling at you exhausted look and cheering you on. "I'm sure Coach Vargas wouldn't mind us taking a break?" He laughs a bit awkwardly after you glared at him for suggesting it when he barely even broke a sweat.

It wasn't till after Leona off Handly mentioned something about you smelling like Jack. Even wrinkling his nose and saying that he "didn't have to lay it on that thick." That you started to think, maybe, just maybe, something else was going on here.

So, you went to the library. Got yourself your very own book (that you had to return in two weeks) on Beastfolk Mating rituals.

Suddenly, it made sense why Ace thought you were dense. Apparently, this was commonish knowledge in this world! And maybe you were ignoring pretty obvious signs now that you thought about it.

So, one afternoon when Jack was hanging off of you, that look in his eyes you hadn't noticed till now. You bit his hand. His ears straightened in surprise and he looked at you for a moment. A thick blush on his face.

"Am I dense or are you courting me?" You finally asked now that you had his attention.

"I have been for a while now..." He sheepishly admitted while not looking you in the eye.

____________

Ruggie:

He avoided you like the plague, at first.

Even now, sometimes when he's approaching you, you noticed that he might backtrack and hesitate.

Now he is a lot more relaxed, often hanging off of your shoulder. Now that he knows you won't bite his head off. His tail would wag behind him slightly while he interacted with you. A stark contrast to the stiff, alert eared boy he was just a little while ago!

You will say though, it did take some of your lunches to get here. You'd equate this process to that of getting a scared cat to approach you with treats. Now, you didn't even need the treats to get him around! He'd approach you first now too. Still with hesitance, but once he did come up to you he did seem to enjoy himself.

"He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck. "He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck.

"It's so weird to see a Ruggie-Senpai hang out with you so much." Deuce said off handedly one afternoon. You two were studying together when he thought of this.

"What do you mean?" You couldn't help but ask the card solider. Putting your pen down as you looked at him curiously.

The boy just shrugged, a odd look on his face. "I don't know, I just thought Hyena beast men were more... You know." he added a bit awkwardly. You decided to drop it there.

"Yeah... Anyway, I think I remember-"

The interaction stood out in your head, however. What exactly did Deuce even mean? After that interaction, you noticed a couple things as well. Beast students would look at you and nodded at you in recognition? Leona's nose would scrunch up a bit when you spoke to him (though he never made any comments on it), and when you walked into Savanaclaw a beast guy once mistook you for Ruggie before he looked at you?

What did any of that even mean?! When you asked Jack, he just said you smelt like Ruggie.

That small interaction you had with Deuce quickly began to send you down a hill of thinking about everything Ruggie ever did! How he hung off of you, and how you two hung out. It got even weirder when Ruggie offered you some food. Like he had been for a while.

This was very out of character for the Hyena boy! How did you not realize it before? So, you asked him about it. "How come you always offer me something when we eat together?"

He blushed a bit looking at you with wide eyes for a moment before shaking his head, "I do that don't I?" he laughed awkwardly, "I mean I bring food home for the neighborhood kids too. We all got to eat; you know?" He shrugged it off. You wondered what that meant, because he didn't do it with anyone else, but you failed to push him on the subject.

Your sad to say, you never fully realized what was happening till someone explained it to you.

He knocked on Ramshackle door with a handful of pretty dandelions and asked you on a date. "Perfect, would you like to um... go out with me?" he asked hesitantly, a nervous smile on his face while he put his head down. Like he was trying to protect his neck...

You said yes and it was after that Leona explained how annoying it was watching you two and basically inadvertently explained everything to you...

"That would have been helpful to know sooner." You grumbled to yourself after talking with the lion.

"Eh? Ignore him shyhehe!~ Ruggie just snickered with his usual sly smile.

____________

Leona:

Leona didn't really have time for games. If he liked, you he'd just come out and say it. At least, that's what you had first thought. Yes, he did use your lap as a pillow and you two did cuddle somewhat regularly. That didn't exactly mean anything. Right?

And yeah, Ruggie did scrunch his nose up and complain that you smelt too much like Leona, but that didn't matter. Leona probably didn't mean to do that; he was probably sleeping.

Did Leona roar at you? Yeah, so what? It was like a yawn; it just came out. No, he wasn't blushing! He couldn't be because you were already looking away in embarrassment.

Leona just didn't like you like that. No matter how many Courting book you read on beast men!

The Lion man in question invited you out to a Spelldrive tournament he had been practicing for. Obviously, you went without a second thought. It would be nice to see the lazy lion not lazing around for once! At least that's how you justified it.

You definitely didn't want to just see your crush play a match.

You couldn't help but notice the whole time, how Leona kept looking at you in your seat. Making sure you had just seen him perform. You'd smile and cheer for him and maybe, just maybe, a sense of pride would build up in his chest.

And maybe it was really nice to hear you cheer, and see you jump up from your seat in excitement. And maybe it was really nice to be able to cheer for him.

So you planned to confess to him after this game. "Leona I really liked you! I have for a while now!" And you did.

"Finally." He yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, you two then went to cuddle in the garden.

Did that mean you two were together now...?

____________

A/N: I know that some dorms aren't like nonhuman, but I can imagine that like Riddle was taught like courting customs in The Queendom of Roses, (Some queen of heart rule) or like the scalding sands have some costumes? Like the world changes because of beastmen/Fae customs and people adapted to that and added it to their own ways of approaching a relationship? Idk lol

Sorry Leona's part was quite short, I was getting tired and just wanted to get this out! But thank you for reading!

[saturngas]

megumi warming up to you

[🪐] a few years after megumi and tsumiki got "adopted" by you and gojo, megumi finally feels comfortable enough to tell you about his little school crush. just please don't tell gojo

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: sfw

warnings: established relationship; reader and gojo are both in their early 20s; megumi is around 8 years old; use of gender neutral pet names; megumi being gojo's number one despiser

word count: 1.4k

..

megumi was awfully quiet on the ride home. he and tsumiki were walking a few steps in front of you and satoru. not that he wasn't a quiet and reserved boy by nature, always seeming to be deep in thought and observant of his surroundings. but this time was just different. his little dark eyes were placed on the ground, guiding his careful step, while his lips displayed a subtle pout.

he seemed to be thinking hard.

you looked up at satoru who was chewing on the straw of his already finished strawberry milk box.

"satoru," his eyes fell immediately on you at the sound of his name. his left hand was intertwined with your smaller one, the warm air lingering around both of you making your hands to be a bit sweaty. "do you think megumi is okay? he looks... distracted."

"oh! yeah, of course! why wouldn't he be?" he muttered out a bit nervous, straw between his lips. were you aware of the little disagreement megumi had with a classmate a couple of days ago? he promised megumi you wouldn't know. "maybe he has a bit more homework today, baby. he probably is already thinking about the answers."

"mmm, yeah, true," you hummed. "please help him with that, yeah?" satoru felt his cheeks burn intently the moment you shot him your best puppy eyes. his round glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, reveling his big azure eyes. he left a boyish chuckle while rubbing the back of his neck.

"hah, of course, sweet pie, yeah, hah."

math was always the easiest subject for satoru. well, actually any subject was a piece of cake for him. but he liked math and physics a lot more. he would solve equations within seconds without thinking too much of them. you may have been a little jealous of him during high school when you two would compete to find out who was faster; you would lose for mere seconds.

megumi did have more homework that day, elementary-level math problems. but that wasn't the source of his concern. but he couldn't just tell satoru.

the black haired little guy looked at his benefactor. his stupid face with a stupid grin megumi just couldn't bring himself to get used to. satoru was chewing on a candy flavor gum. megumi could almost taste the intense flavor from his breath. how could he have something so overly sweet for so long in his mouth?

"what's wrong, little fella? you want to go over why two plus two equals four?" megumi sighed at his words. his worksheet displayed multiplication and division problems. of course he already knew how addition worked.

his tired eyes followed your silhouette as you helped tsumiki with a dna three-dimensional model. you were a lot more thoughtful, more considerate of others' feelings. you had the communication skills satoru lacked. for second, megumi realized why satoru was with you, something he was questioning the moment he met you.

megumi was going to tell you.

it was the perfect moment. the idiot of your boyfriend was out in a mission and tsumiki had asked for permission to stay at a friend's. megumi was walking next to you. again, he looked lost in thought.

"megumi—," you cut yourself before spitting out the honorific -chan. the little guy hated being called megumi-chan. satoru did it all the time and megumi now can't handle it even if it comes from you. "are you alright? is there something you would like to tell me?" you said almost in a whisper.

the eight-year-old boy looked at you with indifferent eyes. he now was in the deepest of deep thoughts.

you sensed his little body tensing at your question. "hey, hey—, it's okay megumi. I won't tell satoru if you want to, okay?"

his sight softened. bingo. that always worked with the little kid.

"I think... I've caught an interest in someone." megumi muttered below his breath, little fingers fidgeting. his glance on the ground as a deep shade of pink adorned his pale face.

oh, so this is what's about... you were fighting off a big smile that threaten to appear. you needed to remain serene if you wanted megumi to keep opening up to you.

"oh... who?" you said as softly as possible.

"it is a girl. she is nice. but she is from fifth grade." megumi sounded a bit sad. your heart crunched a bit. he was just a third grader. you weren't surprised he liked a girl who was older that him though. the little boy had complained before about his female classmates being a bit too... immature.

"where did you meet her, megumi?"

"from the art club tsumiki is in. I went with her once because I didn't have anything to do, and I saw her. she is very smart and is really good at acrylic painting."

so now everything makes sense. a few days ago, megumi had asked satoru the price for some acrylic paints that weren't made in Japan. you assumed the little girl had mentioned the brand and megumi was curious.

"what do you want to do about it, megumi?" the black haired boy fell silent again, so you continued, "do you want me to help you with getting close to her, or—"

"no, I want to do it on my own," he cut your words quickly with a serious tone. "just maybe... could you help me with some money? I promise to pay it back."

megumi was so cute you were sure your heart would turn into liquid from the way it was melting.

"ha ha! it's totally fine, megumi!" you let out a giggle. "of course I'll help you and you don't have to pay it back, 'kay?" you suggested with a big smile. "and I promise I won't say a word to satoru," you winked at him.

megumi felt relieved.

two weeks had passed since your little arrangement with megumi. he was actually very secretive with it. tsumiki was probably aware of his little crush on her classmate, but wasn't of the deal megumi made with you.

megumi was serious when he said he wanted to do it on his own. he only asked you for 7,000 yen. and that was the last thing you knew about all this.

you were getting ready for bed when satoru interrupted your skincare routine placing a wet kiss on your cheek. you groaned as he prepared to brush his teeth.

"baby, did you know megumi has a girlfriend?" satoru mumbled as toothpaste ran down his perfect chin.

"what?" you acted genuinely surprised. megumi already made her his girlfriend?

satoru grabbed a towel to dry his face and wipe off the counter. he always made a mess when brushing his teeth. "yeah baby. when I picked them up, he said goodbye to a girl, and I mean—! I have never seen him bid farewell to absolutely no one, not even me!" he said a bit exasperated, looking up at you with his baby blue eyes. "im pretty sure that's his girl or something."

poor megumi, his deepest secret was known by his greatest enemy. you sighed softly as you finished applying your lotion and walked close to satoru.

"that could be a possibility, 'toru," your hand roamed through his hard back as the other one went up to fidget with his soft white locks. satoru stared down at you lovingly, his arms encircling you with a tight grip. "but please, do not tease him." you voice was so hard and stern that it made the young sorcerer to swallow all the spit in his mouth down his throat.

"yeah baby, no problem—."

"no, satoru, im being serious right now. leave him alone." you were dead serious, satoru knew. his lips moved unconsciously to yours to erase the subtle pout that was staring to form on your face.

"i promise, shnookums," he left a chaste kiss on your nose. "well then, I'll have to tease you tenfold babyyy~!" satoru hugged you with all his mighty force, knocking the air out of you. his large arms made you feel so safe and warm. satoru gave the best bear hugs.

"somebody gotta receive all my love~" you giggled at his words. satoru loves everyone, however many people may find his love language a bit… obnoxious and annoying. his lips now teasing your earlobe while his large hands rubbed your back. "or else my little brains might explode and— wait, baby," his warm lips left your skin, as he opened wide his blue eyes.

"what, what."

"so that is why you made a withdrawal of like seven thousand yen? to give it to megumi?"

"satoru are you checking my bank account?"

"baby I can't help it~," he whine out loud, his face snuggling down your neck while planting wet kisses around your neck. you couldn't help but feel funny when his hands danced under your shirt, caressing your hot skin. "you should end your independency and start using my credit cards."

your boyfriend was so shameless.

[synthetickitsune]

Hi!! I love your work sm and I was wondering if u could write a minghao drabble with the prompt “you don’t count- I love u” thank u 🤍🤍

The8 (SVT) | "You don't count - I love you" fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader A/N: thank you for requesting! also inspired by @hanniedream's froggy ring post and bibi being a menace feeding into all of my delusions

“Absolutely not.”

You pout at him, whine his name, whisper into his ear how cute it would be to have a matching jewelry - a silly piece, the exact opposite of the classy necklaces and rings and bracelets you already had plenty of. But nothing gets Minghao to change his mind, and so the little froggy faces can only watch as you leave the store without them.

You sulk about it only a little. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. Your relationship matters, and it’s loving and wonderful, and Minghao is the best partner you could wish for. What would be the point in wearing a matching ring if you knew he hated it? He always makes sure you don’t lack anything you want or need, silly or serious. You let it go and truth be told, the entire thing slips your mind.

Until today.

Until today’s afternoon, to be exact, today’s very ordinary afternoon when your boyfriend suddenly told you to close your eyes before putting a little box in your palms.

“Open it,” he smiles at you as he sits down next to you.

You feel a lump in your throat. There are two rings staring at you. Matching rings. One with a little black frog, its limbs spread as if it was swimming, and the other with little lily pads and a white blossom. Minghao must’ve had them made, you don’t think he could find rings like this in a shop somewhere. 

“Do you like them?” he asks with a small smile. His hand slowly rubs circles on the small of your back. You look at him in disbelief.

“Why Hao?” you take a shaky breath. He frowns, sitting closer to you and putting his other hand over your knee. 

“What do you mean why?” his brows are knitted together, “Do you not like them?”

“No, I do - I love them,” you sigh, “But you hate things like this.”

You look at them again. The sizes make it pretty clear which ring is his and which is yours. He’ll look even more like he came out of a fairytale with the tiny blossom adoring his finger. You truly love them. You love the cute little frog. And you appreciate the gesture, but…

“I wouldn’t get them if I hated the idea - or if I didn’t like these rings themselves,” he assures you patiently.

“But you hated the silly frog rings I showed you,” you argue back, making Minghao smile and pinch your cheek.

“And I didn’t get those, did I?” he watches you laugh and loosens up a little himself.

“These are still silly,” you shake your head, “More… tasteful and elegant, but silly.”

“I’m good at compromising with you,” he grins. His thumb strokes your knee absentmindedly. It’s good to see you relax again, good to see the tender look in your eyes as you study the rings.

He looks at the box resting in your hands and carefully takes it from you. He slides the frog adorned ring on your finger before handing the now half-empty box back to you. Suddenly he feels shy when you take his hand in yours. You stroke your thumb over the ring once it sits on his finger, tapping the little flower. 

“You know you can tell me if you don’t like them or if I hurt you before and you no longer want silly matching rings. I won’t be upset,” not at you anyway - but he doesn’t say that.

“I’m really happy, Hao,” you lean in for a kiss that he’s more than happy to give you, “I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t like.”

“I’m not,” he threatens the doubts in your mind with a slight pout on his lips.

“You always shut everyone down with things like this though,” you don’t give up, stubborn as he is.

“Well,” he smirks mischievously and leans closer again to steal another kiss, “You don’t count - I love you.”

“That’s so corny,” you scrunch up your nose, pushing at Minghao’s chest without any force. It’s only natural that with every push comes a pull, so you don’t struggle when he pulls you into his side.

“But I won’t wear mine all the time, just so we’re clear,” he says softly yet firmly enough to let you know it’s not up for debate. Still he looks at the ring with a smile.

“I guessed you don’t have that many fits to match it,” you tease, “But I’ll wear mine all the time just so you know.”

“I’ll wear it when I’m not running around schedules. And when I’m with you. We shouldn’t leave the frog without its home for too long, hm?” he laces your fingers together. You gasp when you see it - like this it indeed looks like the frog is swimming towards the lily pads. You can’t help but laugh and snuggle closer to him.

You guess it is a little like that - Mingao is your home.

And you’re Minghao’s whole life, giving his existence a purpose. Even if that might be too much for a little frog to convey.

[fuji-sen]

Sawuwa with reader who finally gets their own body and immediately gets carried away princess style PLEEEEASE 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺

SAWuWa Headcanon pt. 5.1 .ೃ࿔*:･

requested!

characters: Rover, Jiyan (I keep forgetting its Jiyan not Jinyan--), Scar, I'll add more characters soon.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Rover.ᐟ

takes place presumably sometime after chapter 1/patch 1 story.

➥ other than you, Rover is probably one of the most happiest person in Sol-III now that you got your own body!

➥ because honestly, they had a rough time partly sharing their body with you, it was like not having any privacy! they could hear your thoughts, and you could hear theirs. They were like the anchor to your disembodied soul that either floated around nearby or was in your body like an imaginary voice in the head.

➥ but despite the rough bumps you started off with the main character, you two became very close, forcibly perhaps with being forced to be so close to each other, but still, genuinely close.

➥ so when you were a bit disoriented having your own body they easily picked you up in a princess carry with a bright smile on their face.

➥ "it's finally nice to see you in solid form." they remarked with a chuckle.

➥ feeling a bit weak you were still able to respond, "you don't have to carry me y'know" your voice was soft as you stared at their piercing golden orbs as if the blood of the gods spilled to create such beautiful eyes.

➥ the Rover hummed thoughtfully "I know, just want to."

➥ some part of them knew they'd miss being so close to you.

➥ "can't believe I have my own body, now I have to walk all over the place like you." you scrunched up your nose in annoyance at the thought. Rover laughed at your musings, that was the first thing you were worried about after getting your own body?

➥ "you're worried about the journey but not the tacet discords?" they pointed out and you flailed your arms in frustration "ugh you're right!"

➥ "just stick with me and I'll protect you" they said holding you tighter.

Jiyan.ᐟ

takes place when you end up getting separated with the Rover and ended up getting your own body. probably around the time when Rover was building that huge gun thingy to get close to the threnodian.

➥ The minute you are forcibly separated from the Rover, no longer a specter, no longer a voice with no body to its name, the first one who is over their shock would be General Jiyan.

➥ you feel a bit disoriented, your body swaying as you felt dizzy, your body leaned a bit too far in one direction and suddenly you find yourself falling.

➥ oh but don't worry! well toned arms wrapped themselves around you preventing any injuries.

➥ "Thank you" you managed to say as you steadied yourself, his arms no longer enveloped you but a hand was on your shoulder instead.

➥ "It is no problem." he curtly replied "you seem to be disoriented, it seems that getting your own body has exhausted you." his brows furrowed as the more doctor and medic side of him appeared.

➥ After a bit of silence on his side, he opened his mouth only to offer assistance "would you like me to carry you to the medics? or perhaps the Rover?" ah that's right, you got separated.. you shook your head despite how tempting the offer was, you couldn't take advantage of the general. "no it's okay, you're hurt, I can endure it until I meet with the others again."

➥ but Jiyan wouldn't take no for an answer, "are you doubting my strength?" he asked amused as he crossed his arms, flexing his muscles. You gulped shaking your head fervently 'no'

➥ and that's how you ended up in his arms, perhaps Jiyan was right that you needed to be carried. You find your eyelids grew heavy as you leaned on his chest.

Scar.ᐟ

tw: kidnapping? (depends whether you don't want him to take you or not.)

takes place during the awakening of the threnodian.

➥ Scar would watch (stalk) you and Rover after your first encounter, the jail of Jinzhou wasn't enough to stop him.

➥ with the whole fuss of the Threnodian's awakening being expedited he was able to easily slip out.

➥ course he would have preferred to have fight his way out of the place and cause havor like the maniac he is, he decided it would be quicker to slip out so he could get to you and Rover quicker.

➥ so when he arrived to find you, rover and jinyan, he was pleasantly shock to find you in the middle of getting your body.

➥ the powerful frequencies you let off and the reverberations that flowed through after had him excited!

➥ The general and the rover were preoccupied with defending you from the gathering TD's that were attracted to your raw power left them distracted, letting him easily close the distance between you.

➥ you look at the palm of your hands, shock as you truly had a physical body. and yet you were unable to savor it as you could hear a familiar voice.

➥ one dripping with charisma and an underlying tone of insanity. "Scar" you turned to find him walking closer and closer to you, you were shock considered he wasn't supposed to appear in this part of the story since canonically he was in jail at this moment.

➥ "it's nice to see you again little lamb, or should I say bambi?" he tilted his head, an amused smile on his face as he looked at you up and down, his heterochromia eyes settling on your legs.

➥ you followed his stare to realized your legs were shaking, probably being barely able to stand as you were. Your cheeks quickly turned red in embarrassment, "I have a name you know" you hissed and ended with a pout.

➥ you turned around trying to find Jiyan, Rover or anybody to help you. As much as you liked Scar and doted on him every chance you got, you felt vulnerable and you were unsure of his motives regarding you.

➥ "Aw come on little lamb, won't you please pay attention to me?" you jolted to find him right behind you, face near your ears as you could practically feel his breath fanning you. He had an adorable pout on his face, almost looking like a kicked puppy.

➥ before you could reply a sound resembling a growl got your attention as you both turned to find tacet discords approaching you.

➥ as much as Scar liked fighting, and wasn't too afraid of tacet discords he clicked his tongue annoyed "I won't let our little date get interrupted again." he declared as he bent down, and before you could object, he carried you in his arms.

➥ "hey- where are you taking me?!" you yelled as he began moving, dodging attacks sent at him by the tacet discords who wanted you. Scar merely laughed "hold on tight!" and you did, wrapping your arms around his neck as he used his legs to either run, dodge or attack.

➥ boy Rover and Jiyan will be in for a shock when they find you gone.

[biteyoubiteme]

fit check

fem!reader x choi yeonjun x huening kai

synopsis: yeonjun buys you some new clothes and wants you to try them on for him and huening.

warnings: 🔞!!! established relationship, trouple/poly, threesome, praise, nipple play, oral (f!rec), fingering, multiple orgasms (f!rec), overstim, unprotected sex, creampie, use of the name baby, she/her used. prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3k

an:  this is kinda a part two of busy signal but you don't need to read that to read this or the other way around. feedback appreciated :)) [m.list]

“Did one of you order something huge?” you ask using your foot to push in the box that you had to sign for. it was heavy enough that you didn’t even want to try and carry it in your arms. 

Kai and Yeonjun are laid out on the couch, both of them paying no attention to the TV in front of them as they scroll on their phones. you had been studying in the office coming out for a second to grab some water when the knock came for the delivery. 

“I didn’t,” Kai pipes up his phone illuminating him from the nose up, he is clutching one of the oversized stuffies he keeps on the couch. 

you push the box into their view and Yeonjun sits up a grin taking over his face. “I did,” he tosses his phone down on the couch forgetting about it as he moves to pick up his keys from the hook by the door. the little fox charm dangling from his fist as he uses the key to cut the tape open. 

inside is another box, matte black and tied with a bow. Yeonjun hands you his keys to replace as he pulls this box out to set down on the coffee table. 

The three of us are now only interested in seeing the contents inside. it wasn’t unusual for any one of us to receive a box but usually not this big. Yeonjun sits back down waving at you to follow suit and take your usual seat between the two of them, placing the box right in front of you. huening pulled himself up to give you room so as not to sit on his outstretched legs. 

“Open it,” Yeonjun says, bumping his shoulder with yours. 

“me?” and he chuckles. “I got you a gift, open it,” 

you can’t help but grin as you grab the end of the ribbon on the front, “it’s not something that will jump out and scare me is it?”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, at least not without recording your reaction,” you roll your eyes flipping the lid of the box up. you’re met with tissue paper folded neatly and secured with a sticker the label for a designer brand. the size of the box meaning it wasn’t a small bill. “Go on,” he nudged you after you paused. you try to tear the paper as little as possible folding it back to see the folded garments inside. 

there had to be about three full outfits in there, your fingers dragging over the fabrics. “oooo” Kai hums as you pull out a pleated skirt dark gray and heavy. 

“I saw a campaign for their new collection and all I could think about was you wearing all this,” he pulls out a soft sweater as Kai reaches in and pulls out a sheer pair of tights. “go try it on,” 

you take the sweater from him standing to take it into the other room. “don’t forget these,” Kai says, passing over the tights. 

Yeonjun loves to dress you up, picking outfits, and having a little fashion show in the living room wasn’t uncommon but it still always made you nervous to know they were waiting in the other room for you. All their attention ready to be placed on you. 

you were currently dressed in your pajamas nearly ready to turn in for bed after your studying. when you pull off your sleep shirt to replace it with the sweater you don’t move to put on a bra. your gentle pulling on the thin tights making sure not to snag them with your nails. and when you pull on the skirt you realize how short it is. it only just barely covers your ass if you leaned over you would flash anyone behind you. 

when you make it back out to the living room your hands are laced in front of you a bit shy. Yeonjun is leaning back with his arm thrown over the back of the sofa, Kai holding his stuffie to his stomach, hands on his elbows hugging it. their gaze makes your cheeks heat, “come here,” Yeonjun beacons leaning forward so he can lean his elbows on his knees. 

your stockinged feet feel cold against the hardwood as you try not to slip from how silky the tights are. Yeonjun reaches out once you’re close enough, his hot hand sliding from the back of your knee up your thigh until it cups the flesh of your ass under the skirt. you shiver, reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders. “It's kinda short,” you whisper, not realizing it would come out so breathy but Yeonjuns fingers are long enough to brush your inner thigh, high enough to almost graze your center. 

“I like it,” Kai’s voice is throaty and he swallows to try and clear it. when you look at him he’s pink from his cheeks to his ears. 

“do you?” you twist your hips just enough to make the fabric sway but the move makes Yeonjuns fingers slip right against your clothed core. Yeonjuns smirk cocky as he squeezed your inner thigh. He knows that look on your face like the back of his hand. that gleam in your eyes telling him everything he needs to know, kai noticed it too. the way you were pressing your knees together trying to trap Yeonjuns hand from moving further up, to the way your grip on his shoulders was tightening. 

If Yeonjun did inch higher he would find that you were growing wet under their inspection. Yeonjuns free hand cups your hip, thumb pressing hard into you. “open,” 

The single word is a demand that makes your knees weak. you shake your head and Yeonjun raises his eyebrows. “worried to make a mess all over your new tights?” if you could blush harder you would. “because I don’t care,” his fingers slip higher even without you opening your legs for him. you want to be embarrassed by how wet you are and he has barely touched you at all because you know he can feel your arousal through the thin material of the tights and your panties. The grin he gives while running his tongue along the inside of his cheek only makes it worse.  

“huening how wet do you think she already is?” he doesn’t need to look over to know Kai’s watching the two of you. Yeonjun is too busy gauging your reaction to the painstakingly slow drags of his fingers. 

“soaking,” the word a breath in the room. Someone had turned off the TV before you came back in after changing. 

“why don’t you let huening feel hum?” and then his hands are gone. Your whine is unnoticed as he taps your ass to tell you to listen to him. 

you walk over to Kai who’s biting his inner lip ready to draw blood. “Do you want to touch me hyuka?” 

he doesn’t answer before he reaches out for you. thumb sliding under the skirt and circling your clit. the sensation races up your spine and you grab his forearm to still yourself. 

Yeonjun stands behind you pushing your hair to the side to kiss behind your ear. you can feel how hard he is as he leans into you, his hands going under your sweater to cup your breasts. 

At the same time he pinches your nipples Kai flicks your clit. you jump nails digging into Kai’s arm, Yeonjun kissing down your neck to your shoulder. Kai goes back to rubbing soft circles in apology. 

Yeonjun lifts the sweater off of you, tossing it back into the box still filled with the forgotten outfits you hadn’t tried yet. Yeonjun takes all your hair into a ponytail before tugging your head back onto his shoulder giving Kai full access to your uncovered tits. Kai has no hesitation before wetting his lips and sucking marks on your skin, his teeth grazing your nipples. Yeonjuns voice hot in your ear, “Lay down on huening and I’ll take care of you okay?” 

you nod hurriedly as he lets you go, Kai leaning back against the armrest of the couch. He opens his legs to fit you against him, your back to his chest, his lips to your temple. 

he’s achingly hard wedged under you, hands cupping your breasts and tugging your nipples as Yeonjun takes off his shirt. he leans down on the couch between your legs pushing up your skirt and when you think he’s going to tug down your tights and panties he instead hooks his fingers in at the crotch of the fabric and rips the thin material. 

“junnie!” your hand shoots out to grab him but the damage is done. “I liked those,” you pout but Yeonjun only laughs lips on your thigh and the reverberation is a direct link to your clit. “I bought you three pairs,” 

“it’s wasteful-“ but you can’t finish your sentence when he pushes your panties aside and gives a hard suck to your clit. your head lobs back and you moan into Kai’s ear. 

“Look at you, so responsive to our touch,” Kai kisses your throat, “and you sound so pretty,” another whimper leaves you as Yeonjun flicks his tongue. 

Yeonjun pulls away and you try to raise your hips to follow him but Kai reaches out a hand to lay flat against your stomach pushing you down. you whimper wiggling against his hold but it only makes him moan in response to the feel of you rubbing against his cock, almost painful. 

Yeonjun lets his tongue barely touch you, bushing your folds up and down before ghosting his lips in the same way. you’re squirming and he grips your thighs hard. “patience baby or do I need to stop?” 

“no please junnie I need you,” and you twitch as he leans back down to give a feather-light kiss to your clit. Your cry in frustration makes them both chuckle. 

Yeonjuns teeth brush against your inner thigh as he cups the back of your knee pushing your legs wider. He nips on your skin right over the ripped fabric of the tights before his fingers shock you by gathering your slick. 

He's gentle as he rubs you tracing your entrance before going back up to your clit. the moment he puts his mouth back on you, you know you’re going to cum. he knows it too and it’s why he’s not doing it yet. “please junnie,” you rock your hips forward as best as you can with Kai holding you in place. 

Yeonjun ignores you circling your entrance before plunging in. You’re breathless as he pumps in slowly trying to get you used to the feeling before he curls his fingers tapping against the spot that makes your brain stop working. one of your hands reaches up to twist your fingers in Kai’s hair the other reaches down to grip Kai’s wrist. the way that he’s pushing down on your pelvis makes Yeonjuns fingers feel incredible. 

Yeonjun gives slow strokes stopping every once in a while to press on your magic gummy spot until he finally latches onto your clit again, sucking until you see stars. 

you’re completely trembling and weak as you cum, Kai tugging on your left nipple his mouth behind your ear. Yeonjun doesn’t stop until you’re tearing up and when he does he gives each mark he made on your thigh a kiss. 

you’re breathing hard as Kai rubs up and down your ribs with his right hand. you hear the sound of Yeonjuns belt buckle being undone and you lazily watch as he strips. 

veiny cock already leaking precum as he takes it into his hand still wet from your juices. your legs instantly widen at the sight, pussy clenching around nothing. 

yeonjun drinks in the sight of you spread out and ready for him, he won’t last long. 

He climbs over you and Kai presses his face into your neck. “you’re going to take everything I give you right?” 

“yes,” your breathy response is lost in a moan as he drags the tip of his cock through your folds. 

he pushes in without warning completely bottoming out in one thrust stilling as he gives a guttural moan against your skin. kai’s hand snakes down between you and Yeonjun, tapping your clit making you clench around Yeonjun. “if you keep doing that I won’t be able to move,” and you don’t know who he’s talking about and you don’t care because he pulls out slowly before slamming right back in. 

Your body jolting against Kai’s cock makes him whine the hold he has on your nipple is sharp and painful but it’s a direct line to your impending orgasm. 

yeonjun doesn’t slow his pace for a second, his hands on the sides of both you and Kai’s heads as he drills into you. 

kai rubs at your clit and you’re shaking all over again, tears leaking from the overstimulation. you cum in a silent gasp yeonjun pressing his mouth on yours to catch your breath. the feeling of you milking him sending him over the edge stilling all movement as he shoots hot cum deep inside you. He moans into your mouth giving weak strokes as he rides out his high. 

When he finally pulls out you can feel your combined release slipping down your folds and onto Kai’s sweatpants. 

you feel limp but yeonjun picks you up to let Kai move from underneath you. He pulls himself up to sit against the couch properly, yeonjun brushing your hair back from your face. your legs are completely weak and trembling as you try to weigh down on them but yeonjun guides you to straddle huening. “You can’t neglect Kai, I'm sure you can take one more load can’t you?” but when your knees hit the couch you fall over kai wrapping your arms around his head and tangling your fingers into his hair. you’re still dripping onto his pants as you give a nod. 

Kai's hands are wrapped around your waist holding you up before he reaches down to tug his cock free. when it bumps your clit you jolt up your cry pressed right into his ear. 

“I’ll take good care of you, baby, I promise,” he kisses your bicep before notching himself at your entrance and pushing upwards as slowly as possible, your pussy already swollen. Yeonjun and Kai are nearly the same size, only Kai is slightly girthier making the stretch noticeable. you’re holding onto Kai for dear life but once he fully settles into you you’re vibrating, trembling, and ready to cum in a breath of a second. 

Kai holds your hips steady before pulling out all the way. He inches back in and your head lobs back in a moan from the corner of your eye you see yeonjun fisting himself already hard again. 

huening feels like he’s pressed right against your cervix, brushing so deep you want to just sit still because even without thrusting you could cum from the feel of him. 

kai’s fingers are digging into your skin hard enough to bruise as he tries to keep his steady pace but you know he wants to go faster. “it’s okay hyuka I can take it,” you try to nod to make yourself believe your words but you don’t know if your legs can take it. 

“Can you?” because he’s not sure he believes it but when you give him another okay he can’t resist any longer. 

without pulling out he flips the two of you so that you’re on your back, head resting on the plushie he had been using to hide his hard on the second you walked out in that tiny skirt. he leans back to tug off his sweatshirt balling it up to tuck under your lower back. The movement sends him deeper into you and he folds a choked moan leaving him as he feels your hot warm walls surrounding him, his pelvis pressed into yours. 

feeling yeonjun fuck you was almost torture if you had moved anymore against Kai’s cock he would have cum instantly. and now you’re looking over huening shoulder to see yeonjun trying to restrain himself from cumming again. 

you’re so easy to slip in and out of, so wet and slippery Kai gets lost in pounding into you. the room is filled with the choir of your combined moans. kai ravages your pussy chasing his orgasm, pumping over and over again like it’s the last thing he will do. you’re so sensitive and full that you’re falling over the edge again in seconds. 

The scratching down Kai’s back and the feel of your orgasm makes him stutter in his thrusts before he unloads his warmth in you. he grabs the back of your knee lifting your leg making you cry as he sinks his hips deeper before stilling completely inside you. 

when he pulls out you’re so beaten you hadn’t noticed yeonjun had followed the two of you to your climax and was laid back with cum all over his stomach. 

kai keeps your leg raised as he prods at your still throbbing pussy, dragging your lips aside to watch as your combined arousal spills out with each residual pulse. with one long finger he scoops up the cream before shoving it back inside you. “the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen,”  

yeonjun stands gazing over you, “the prettiest,” he agrees before dragging his finger through the mess he made on himself. kai pulls his finger out before yeonjun shoves his in. You jerk back as he pumps in his cum as if he wasn’t already staining your insides. He takes his hand away tugging your panties into place. 

“Let's get you cleaned up and then we can see the rest of the outfits I picked out for you, yeah?”