#before and I was like was he trying to do something there?? or was he just being weird?? likely the latter but still that timing was a bit

[pucksandpower]

Hip Thrusts

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: watching your boyfriend train gives you ideas about other things (or people) his hips could be doing … like you

Warnings: 18+ content

You take a deep breath as you push open the door to the gym. The smell of rubber mats and metal weights fills your nose.

It’s early — the sun is just starting to peek through the windows — and the gym is mostly empty, except for a few dedicated early morning regulars on the cardio machines.

Across the room, you spot Oscar on the weight floor. He’s doing barbell hip thrusts, clanging the weights up and down with each rep. His trainer Kim stands over him, stopwatch in hand, counting out the seconds between sets.

You take a moment just to watch Oscar train. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his muscles flexing and contracting with each thrust. He’s wearing those tiny Nike running shorts you bought him last month, the ones that show off his sculpted quads and glutes.

You can’t help but stare a little bit. Okay, a lot. Your boyfriend’s butt looks amazing.

“57… 58 … 59 ...” Kim counts. “Good, take 30 seconds.”

Oscar racks the barbell and sits up, grabbing his water bottle. His eyes catch yours across the room and his face lights up in a smile.

“Hey babe!” He calls out, waving you over.

You weave your way past the ellipticals and weight machines until you’re standing next to him.

“Hey yourself,” you lean down to give him a quick peck. “You’re looking strong this morning.”

“Just trying to get some strength training in before Kim puts me through the ringer later,” Oscar says. “We’ve got the season starting up so I really need to be on my game.”

He takes a long swig from his water bottle as Kim jots down notes on his clipboard.

“So what brings you to the gym so early?” Oscar asks. “I didn’t think 6 am workouts were your thing.”

You shrug. “I was up early and thought maybe we could do breakfast after you’re done?”

“Sounds good to me,” Oscar nods.

Kim clears his throat. "30 seconds are up, time to go again.”

“Duty calls,” Oscar says, getting back into position on the bench.

You step back to give him space, but stay close to chat. Oscar grips the barbell and hoists it up into position over his hips. You glance at the plates stacked on either end, doing some quick math in your head.

“Seems like that’s heavier than last time I dropped by,” you can’t help but comment.

“Sure is,” Kim says proudly before Oscar can respond. “We increased the weight since last week. Gotta keep increasing the load to build muscle.”

You stare at the barbell plates again. Exactly your body weight. Which means ...

Oscar is doing hip thrusts with the equivalent of you lying on top of him.

A little flutter goes through your stomach at the thought. You try to push it aside though. Obviously he isn’t thinking of it that way, it’s just part of his training regimen that Kim has him on. Still, you can’t help but visualize it for a moment.

“Alright, here we go,” Kim says. “Three sets of twenty reps, and … go!”

Oscar begins thrusting the barbell up in controlled motions, breathing out with each lift. You try not to stare, but your eyes keep flicking back to the movement of his hips. There’s something about watching your boyfriend’s pelvis go up and down right in front of you that’s making it hard to look away.

After twenty reps Oscar racks the barbell again. His chest is heaving a little from the exertion.

“Nice work,” Kim says. “How’d that feel?”

“Good,” Oscar says between breaths. “Definitely feeling the burn.”

He catches your eye and must notice you blushing because he adds with a wink, “Enjoying the show, babe?”

You feel your cheeks flush even more. “What? No! I mean, yes? I just … never mind ...” you stammer.

Oscar grins knowingly and takes another sip of water.

Over the next two sets, you try your best not to gawk. You remind yourself that this is serious training. Oscar is an athlete and you need to be respectful.

But still … when he’s finished his final set and Kim tells him to take a longer rest, you can’t help yourself.

“So, the weight you’re thrusting, huh?” You say, trying to sound casual. “That’s kind of a coincidence ...”

“What do you mean?” Oscar asks.

You glance at Kim, who is occupied on his phone. In a lower voice you say, “Well, it’s exactly what I weigh.”

Oscar’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh! I didn’t even realize.” A sly grin crosses his face. “Hey, you’re totally right.”

You take a step closer to him, emboldened. “So basically you’re doing hip thrusts with me on top of you.”

Oscar lets out a startled laugh. “When you put it that way ...”

“I have to admit the thought crossed my mind while I was watching you,” you say. You run a hand slowly up his arm. “I think you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Oscar swallows hard, his eyes darkening. “Yeah?” He asks quietly.

You nod, feeling suddenly shy under his intense gaze.

He reaches out and takes your hand, rubbing his thumb in circles over your skin. “Well I can promise you, the real thing is a hundred times better than any training exercise.”

You lace your fingers through his, reveling in his touch. “Why don’t you remind me later?” You ask boldly.

Oscar leans in, his breath hot on your ear. “It would be my pleasure.”

A little shiver runs down your spine at the promise in his words. You want to kiss him right here in the middle of the gym, but Kim finally looks up from his phone.

“Alright, time’s up! Let’s keep moving.”

Oscar gives you a sheepish look as he releases your hand. “Duty calls once again. But rain check for later?”

“Absolutely.” You wink and take a step back so he can get into position for his next set.

You try to pay more attention to his form as he does the next round of hip thrusts. But this time, your mind keeps wandering to what those hips could do under different circumstances. Judging by the smoldering looks Oscar keeps shooting your way between sets, you’re pretty sure he’s thinking the same thing.

By the last set, there’s an obvious tension and heat between you. Oscar holds your gaze as he finishes the final reps, his hips rising and falling rhythmically. You bite your lip, no longer even trying to hide your desire. You want him, and you want him now.

Finally Kim calls time and tells Oscar to start his cool down stretches. As he reaches for his toes, back arched, you sidle up behind him.

“I think you need to stretch out some other muscles too,” you murmur in his ear. “I’d be happy to assist with that later.”

Oscar straightens up with a groan. “You’re killing me here, babe. As soon as we get home ...”

You grin up at him innocently. “Yes?”

He kisses you heatedly, not caring that Kim is still packing up his things nearby. “Why don’t you head out and get breakfast started for us?” He suggests. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You bite your lip as you back away slowly. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

You toss one last flirty wave over your shoulder as you leave the gym, heart racing. You have a feeling breakfast might be the last thing on both of your minds when Oscar gets home. But you love teasing each other like this — it always makes your time together even hotter.

As you drive home, you can’t stop replaying those images of Oscar doing hip thrusts in your mind. Maybe you should start joining those early morning workouts more often …

***

You can barely concentrate as you drive back home. You and Oscar have always had an adventurous and flirtatious relationship, but that encounter at the gym took things to a whole new level.

When you get home, you quickly tidy up the bedroom and kitchen to get things ready for when Oscar arrives. You take a fast shower, letting the hot water relax your excited nerves.

Slipping into a silky robe, you head to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. You chop fruit, arrange multigrain toast and toppings on a platter, and squeeze fresh orange juice, trying to make everything look as appetizing as possible. Not that food is really on your mind right now, but you want to set the scene perfectly.

Just as you’re pouring two cups of coffee, you hear the front door open. Oscar calls out your name, his voice sending a thrill through your whole body.

“In here!” You call back, straining to keep your tone neutral even as your pulse quickens.

Oscar strides into the kitchen and pauses, eyes sweeping over you hungrily as he takes in the robe and the breakfast you’ve laid out.

“This looks amazing, babe,” he says appreciatively. He comes over and kisses you tenderly. “Thank you for doing all this.”

You smile up at him, arms encircling his neck. “Least I could do after that little show you put on for me. Now come sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

You both take a seat at the kitchen island, filling your plates with fruit, pastries and eggs. The domesticity of sharing a meal together contrasts wildly with the tension still charging the air between you.

Oscar asks about your morning as you eat, keeping the conversation light. But his foot slowly trails up your calf under the table, making your breath hitch. You tell him about your plans to meet up with some friends later in the week. His hand finds your knee, fingers lightly grazing your bare skin. You ask him how training is going, trying to keep your voice even as your whole body tingles.

By the time you’ve both cleaned your plates, you’re squirming in your seat, heart pounding with anticipation. The second Oscar pushes his plate away, you surge forward to kiss him hungrily. All pretense of small talk is dropped — you want him now.

Oscar responds immediately, his strong arms pulling you tight against him as he kisses you deeply. You run your hands over the hard muscles of his chest and arms, feeling them flex and relax under your touch.

“Take me to bed,” you whisper in his ear.

In one smooth motion, Oscar stands and lifts you up into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you effortlessly to the bedroom and lays you down on the bed, his athletic body hovering tantalizingly over yours.

You run your hands up under his shirt, feeling the ripple of abs and obliques. Oscar lets you pull it up over his head before capturing your mouth again, kissing you ravenously.

“Need to feel you,” he groans, hands fumbling to untie your robe. He pushes the silk aside reverently, eyes roaming over your exposed body with undisguised longing.

You arch up into him, gasping as your overheated skin meets his. Oscar kisses down your neck to your collarbone, hands gliding up your ribcage to caress your breasts. You moan his name, back bowing off the bed at the sensation.

“You’re so beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, lips continuing their descent. “I’ve been thinking about this all morning.”

You smile, combing your fingers through his hair. “Well then stop thinking and start doing.”

Oscar laughs, his warm breath fanning over your stomach. “Yes ma’am.”

He kisses lower, fingers trailing down your thighs to nudge them apart. You let your legs fall open with a pleasured sigh, back arching in anticipation.

Oscar starts slow, kissing and licking with delicate flicks of his tongue that have you squirming for more. He grips your hips, holding you still as he finally puts his mouth on you fully.

You cry out as he brings you right to the edge, only to pause and ease up again, keeping you balancing at the precipice.

“Oscar,” you moan urgently.

He smiles against you, knowing exactly what he’s doing to your body. When he finally takes pity on you, the climax rockets through you powerfully, leaving you trembling and breathless.

You pull Oscar up to meet your lips again, tasting yourself on him. “Your turn,” you whisper.

He groans as you quickly flip him onto his back and kiss your way down his taut body. You pull off his shorts torturously slowly, trailing your tongue along his hip crease in a way you know drives him wild.

Finally you take him into your mouth, noting how he’s already hard and straining for you. You smile around him, working him with your lips and tongue until his hips are bucking uncontrollably.

“I need you. I need to be inside you,” Oscar gasps, stilling you.

You release him reluctantly and crawl back up his muscular frame to kiss him hungrily. Oscar grips your hips and then you’re sinking down onto him, crying out at the delicious fullness.

You move together urgently, the restrained desire from earlier in the gym bubbling over as your bodies join again and again. Oscar’s fingers dig into the curves of your hips as he guides you up and down. You brace your hands on his sculpted chest, grinding your hips in little circles that make you both moan.

The pleasure builds rapidly, urged on by the intoxicating intimacy of your entwined bodies. Oscar’s thumb finds your most sensitive spot and starts stroking in time with your movements. The dual sensations send you hurtling over the edge again. Your climax seems to trigger Oscar’s own release. He throws his head back with a ragged groan as he finds his peak deep inside you.

You stay wrapped together as you both catch your breath, hearts pounding against each other’s chests. Oscar strokes your hair back from your face and pulls you in for a lazy kiss, full of satiation.

“Wow,” you sigh, still trembling with aftershocks. “This morning just keeps getting better and better.”

Oscar grins and rolls you both onto your sides, keeping you tucked close. “I guess we have hip thrusts to thank for this extra workout.”

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “Remind me to join your gym sessions more often.”

You lay entwined, trading soft kisses and simply enjoying the intimacy. The frantic passion from moments before simmers down into contented warmth.

Eventually Oscar nuzzles your hair. “As much as I want to stay like this all day, I should probably shower before practice.”

You pout playfully but let him slide out of your arms. He heads to the bathroom and you hear the water turn on a minute later.

Biting your lip, you get an idea. Oscar did say all day ...

You sneak into the steamy bathroom behind him. Through the frosted glass door you can see the outline of his muscular frame under the cascade of water.

Silently, you drop your robe and step into the shower behind him. Oscar turns under the stream, eyes lighting up as he sees you.

“Well hello there,” he grins. “Come here often?”

You press your naked body against his slick skin. “I missed you already.”

Oscar’s arms wrap around you as his lips find yours. “I think we have time for round two before I have to get ready for the afternoon,” he murmurs suggestively.

You smile and reach for the body wash, lathering up your hands. “Better get started then.”

Oscar groans appreciatively as your soapy hands glide over his shoulders and down his chest. You take your time relearning every hard ridge and valley of his athletic physique, paying special attention to the areas still sensitive from your earlier activities.

The combination of cascading water and roaming hands quickly has Oscar hard again. This time he lifts you, pressing your back against the cool tile wall as your legs lock around his hips.

You cry out in bliss at the new angle as he enters you. Oscar braces one hand on the wall and slips the other between you, resuming his earlier attentions. The dual sensation makes your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you gasp, raking your nails down his back.

Oscar increases his pace, thumb working you relentlessly as he snaps his hips. You feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it crests explosively, just as Oscar tenses and finds his own peak.

You cling together, slick and sated under the warm spray. Eventually Oscar carefully lowers your weakened legs back to the shower floor, keeping an arm around your waist to support you.

“Okay, now I really need to get ready to head out,” he chuckles.

You sigh contentedly. “Fine, but only if you promise more later.”

Oscar drops a kiss to your shoulder. “Oh I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

As you exit the shower on shaky legs, you exchange a grin. Looks like early morning workouts are going to become a permanent part of your routine from now on.

[rosesaints]

THAT BOY IS MINE .ᐟ I CAN'T WAIT TO TRY HIM .ᐟ

*+:｡.｡ SUMMARY. yuuta's the shy, unassuming guy in your media and ethics class, the kind of moral and upstanding guy who's never seen the real world before up until coming to college. of course, he latches on to you and your drastically different world. wc: 5.3k

contents. 18+ mdni, yuuta okkotsu x female!reader, smut, porn with a dash of plot, overstimulation, body worship, oral fixation, a lil bit of a corruption kink, edging, unprotected sex, virginity loss (yuuta), praise kink, pet names, hair pulling, reader being a lil unfair, drunk sex

When Yuuta comes, it’s a sight to behold.

His eyes screwed shut, desperate and mindless pleas tumbling off the edge of his lips like a waterfall, begging for release. He can’t help but rock his hips faster into yours, a pace that sends you off to your third orgasm of the night, but you can’t linger on that for too long when Yuuta falls apart like it’s a revelation. Like he loses himself in the sensation of it all, all strangled gasps and whimpers as you praise him through it, giving him something tangible and steady to hold on to.

God, he gets so desperate, drunk off your pussy and doesn’t stop rutting into yours even though the aftershocks of his orgasm send tremors down his spine, completely and utterly spent but unwilling to give up on the high, and you feel so unbelievably warm.

"Can you give me another one, baby? Please?" Your hand's already snaking back down to his swollen, aching cock, a mischievous lilt to your voice. 'Cause you already know what he wants.

You can hardly believe that you only took his virginity just a couple hours ago. 

Yuuta has that baby deer lost in the woods look to him, the kind of moral, upstanding guy that seems to have been sheltered all the way up until college. You remember the first time you saw him, you accidentally mistook him as part of one of the college tour groups, raising a brow when he nervously asked you where the lecture hall for the media and ethics course was.

"I'm so, so sorry, I just—ihavenoideawherei'mgoing—and… and this professor has a ⅕ rating on ratemyprofessor.com and I'm going to be so screwed, how do I—"

He had shaken his phone with his schedule in front of you then, all wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and you could barely conceal the annoyance on your face. Still, you took pity on his poor soul, looking like he was on the brink of bursting into tears. "Yeah, fine, fine, just stop waving your phone in my face. Dude, how did you even get on this side of campus—god, you're hopeless, just follow me."

When Yuuta hesitates to follow you, already three feet away, you turn around with an exasperated look. "You comin' or what?"

"Y–Yes ma'am!" He's stumbling over his words again, embarrassed with the fact that he called you ma'am, thinks that you're definitely going to abandon him there and then, but to his and your surprise, you don't. You merely huff, motioning for him to keep following you. "I mean… sorry, yes, I'm right behind you!"

It's no wonder you walk with such purpose and intent. Wherever you went on campus, people naturally tend to carve out a path for you. It's an observation that does not go unnoticed by him, surprised at the easy way in which students on campus held a quiet respect for you. He thinks can understand why—he believes you're stunning in a way that's almost unfair, sharp eyes appraising him and elevating his heart rate with just a few words.

Can't focus on much else but stare at the way your hips sway from side to side as you march confidently through campus like it's a playground.

Yuuta would find out much, much later that he might've just accidentally fallen onto the devil's lap.

You look over your shoulder to check that he's still following you and you almost burst out chortling at the way he looks, giving you the world's largest puppy dog eyes and hanging on to your every step. He's taller than you, yet his pace barely matches yours. "You sure you're a college student?"

"Y–Yes! Of course!" His words come out quicker than expected, a little bit too defensive. He rubs his neck sheepishly. "I just transferred."

You hum, a small sign of acknowledgement, weaving past a large group of students also hustling to their next class. "So you got a name or what, transfer?"

"Yuuta! Yuuta Okkotsu. And yours?"

You tell him your name, and Yuuta makes a mental note and locks it away for later. He rolls the letters over in his mind until it's permanently engraved into his memory. It's pleasant, it's sweet, and it's you. God, he can't believe he's only just met you and he's already this down bad, like a puppy nipping at its owner's heels, desperate for any crumb of recognition. He seriously needs to pull himself together…

The walk around campus is pleasant enough, if not a bit quiet, as Yuuta struggles to maintain small talk and you struggle to really find a will to care, your steps hurrying just slightly as you glance at the time. You were already running slightly late, and then you picked up the stray rushing behind you.

"Well, here we are. Media and Ethics with Professor Yaga," When you finally arrive at the lecture hall, you whip around to face him, only to find his eyes trained to your ass. Yuuta almost instantly gets flushed, stumbling over his words in an attempt to explain himself. You can vaguely hear him trying to say there was just something, a bug, a stain, whatever, but catching Mr. Goody Two Shoes acting pervy is kind of entertaining. Huh, you wouldn't have expected that. 

Instead of humoring his little excuses as to why he was staring at your ass, you merely wave him off with a small smile. "Okay, weirdo. Just do me a favor and try not to get lost again, yeah?"

"Right! I'll try…" You're already walking away and heading off to your seat before he can finish his sentence. "Not to get lost again."

Gingerly, he finds a spot cramped in between two friends who glare at him as he sits down and he winces, mumbling soft apologies. You're a few rows down, chuckling and goofing around with who he assumes are your friends, a boy with platinum blonde hair and a girl with a blunt, black bob. You settle into a comfortable banter with them, and for a moment, Yuuta appreciates you at your most natural state, all smiles and unfiltered laughter. He can see the column of your throat as you laugh unabashedly, and instinctively, he licks his lips, dry and parched so suddenly.

As if you can feel the weight of his stare, you flip around in your seat to meet his tired, dark blue eyes. Your brow raises and a side of your lips curl, as if challenging him. 

If he was any other guy, a better guy, maybe someone who was more sure of himself, he would've risen to the occasion, meeting your eyes with just as much intensity. The kind of guy who meets you head on, who would have confidently asked for your number earlier, and maybe even a date.

But alas, he was only Yuuta Okkotsu, and Yuuta Okkotsu is unfortunately the kind of guy who goes red from head to toe and buries himself back into the crook of his textbook at the notion of being caught staring so openly. He gets too caught up in his own mind to notice the cheshire-like grin that creeps onto your face, turning back to face the board with something akin to trouble written all over your face.

Maki turns around to glance back at what you were looking at earlier, and sees nothing but an unimpressive ball of white fabric and dark black hair trying desperately to avoid eye contact with your row. She snorts, and you roll your eyes. "Looks like you got a new admirer again."

"Hm, something like that," You think about his wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights, and it's decided. "Call it my new project."

And you suppose that's where your little cat and mouse game began.

You quickly discover that yours and Yuuta's schedules conveniently align. He's rushing through the doors of your next class almost every time, perpetually late and flustered and embarrassed about barging into whatever classroom or hall and garnering dozens of speculative eyes. And every time, he meets yours somewhere in the crowd, but never fully returns it, just rushes down to a seat and pushes his head down.

Such a shame. He's a pretty boy, and you like the way he goes pink all over. 

Sometimes when lectures get a little too dull, you allow your mind to wander, thinking about how overwhelmed and discomposed Yuuta could become if you just sank down to your knees in front of him, eyes never leaving his as you pull those pants down, give him a little kiss here and there, then leave a hot, wet stripe down the length of him, watch as those hands, those surprisingly strong and veiny hands try to push you down entirely. How delicious he would taste—

This time, it's him who catches you staring, but your mother did not raise a coward. You stare back more openly, bottom lip catching between your teeth and gaze darkening. Just the slightest bit of reactions sends him spiraling, and you delight in the way he seems to get just a little bit lost, his lips parting slightly and leaning in slightly, wanting to close the distance between you despite being several feet apart. 

That's when you break your little staring contest with him, facing back towards the board with barely concealed satisfaction. It's like Yuuta just had a bucket of ice cold water splashed on him then, blinking rapidly and forcing himself to concentrate once again as if nothing ever happened.

After class, you see him fiddling with his waistband at the corner of the hallway, and you crack up.

You know that you're just being so mean, at this point, but when Yuuta hears you, all dazed and feverish, it's worth it. So you get a little bit more bold, a little bit more open with your game. 

Forgoing leggings and sweatpants for jeans and tight, little skirts, shorts that hike up a little bit too far and shows off the expanse of your soft belly when you reach over and hand Inumaki a pencil or a pen, tank tops that should, quite frankly, be outlawed in your city, exposing soft skin and your plush chest. You keep your distance, however, never quite allowing him the satisfaction of going past a few words with you or polite interactions.

Yuuta's a gentleman, even if his eyes betrays his actions. Taking only what you give him, opening doors for you when he sees you coming down the hallway, obeying so sweetly when you ask him to throw your trash away for you, the only times he can drink your full figure in and capture your full attention.

He's different, you realize, from other people you've previously fooled around with. You can see how much he's trying so hard to remain composed, never letting his eyes linger for too long, never once touching you. Other guys would've broken by now, but not your Yuuta. He's a good boy.

You make your move one Friday after lecture, and it's a familiar dance you and him have come to recognize. Yuuta's already at the door waiting to push it open for you and you beam, positively radiant, lips wrapped around a cherry red lollipop. There's a light smack! as you pull it away from your mouth, tongue peeking out just slightly to cherish the taste. 

As always, he's watching intently, as if committing the sight to memory. You absolutely love the idea, of Yuuta making himself cum over and over again at mere thoughts of you. 

To be quite honest, you've spent hours pondering if he's the type to torture himself through it, pulling away just when he's about to finish, chest heaving and panting with need before letting himself cum after a long session, or if he would rather push himself through orgasm after orgasm until he's shedding tears, begging for no one but himself to stop.

"Say, Yuuta, you got any plans for tonight?" The question is anything but innocent, and there's that pink glow that radiates from him once again, surprised at just how open you are. "Don't get any silly ideas. I'm throwing a little party tonight."

You let your tongue swipe across the shimmering head of the lollipop, delighting in the way his Adam's Apple bobs. "You should come."

For a moment, Yuuta doesn't say anything until he realizes he's just been standing there, staring at you slack-jawed. "O–Oh! Yeah, for sure, I can go! Uh… where is it? And when?" Instead of responding to his questions, you grin excitedly, like a shark who's just successfully lured its prey into the belly of the beast. "Perfect! I'll text you the details. See ya later, Yuuta!"

He nods furiously, flabbergasted more than anything, until he realizes he's never given you his number before. "W–Wait! But my number—" Too late, you were already off to your next destination. "I never… gave it to you…?"

His phone buzzes suddenly, startling him and amassing a few stares from passersby. Sure enough, there's an address, a time, and a winky face emoji from you that makes him rub his eyes to make sure that what he was seeing was right. Fuck. If the address was right, he was definitely going to get lost. He still has no idea where left and right were on campus.

Another buzz on his phone with detailed instructions on how to get to your place. Just in case. No excuses, Yuuta, you typed.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

But sure enough, he arrives at the designated place and time (not that you ever had any actual, real doubt that he would show, absolutely not), and is met with a house party at full steam, smoke radiating from some of the windows and a few people alternating through rounds of beer pong. There's some heavy R&B blasting from the basement that thrums through his spine as he tries to navigate his way through the crowd, searching for the illustrious host.

Just when he's about to give up hope, he finds you on a worn leather couch in a room off to the side of the house, surrounded by a haze of smoke and purple neon lights, looking so dangerous and gorgeous that it forces the ability to vocalize his thoughts right out of him. At the same time, you spot him, and it's silence between you two for a second. 

You smirk, and his heart skips several beats.

With one pretty manicured finger, you're gesturing him to the spot next to you. Wordlessly and hopelessly, he follows.

"You made it," He falls down next to you with a plop, sinking down on the leather and sitting so nicely, hands properly situated in his lap. He turns to look at you with a sheepish nod and you laugh, because you don't know what else you should've expected. It's the closest that you've ever been to him, and it's like he's already going into overdrive. "Did you get lost on the way or did you find me okay?"

"It's quite a party," Yuuta's distracted by your shimmering stockings, adorned with glitter and tiny little rhinestones. He normally loves when you're all exposed for him, bare legs crossed during lecture, but he thinks he likes this a lot more. "Your directions were super helpful," he murmurs.

"What ever would you do without me, hm?" You're suddenly so close, he can feel your breaths mingling in the air, and you're looking at him with those dark, dark eyes like you want to devour him. For a split second, your gaze flicks down to where his heart is pounding so loudly in his jugular, and there's another sharp spike between his legs.

It's honestly so unfair, this effect you have on him. Barely even a minute, and you've got him panting at your feet like a dog. 

He inhales and chuckles shakily. "I don't know," I don't want to know. Don't think I can ever stand a day without seeing you, without hearing you, God, please I just want you so bad—He allows himself to be bold, to see if what he's feeling is true, impossibly long lashes drifting to the floor as he lets his next words escape him quietly. "Let's hope I don't find out."

"Hope not," Your smile's all pearly teeth and he can see your canines glinting even in the low lights. The party really gets in full swing all around you, and he can vaguely hear the shallow whoops and screams of his cohort having the time of their lives. "Say, Yuuta, you wanna have some fun?"

It's a blur of bodies and pounding music from that point on, the only times when he really feels lucid is when you're holding onto his hand, taking him from one part of the party to the next with that same, sly smile like you're taking him down the rabbit hole. He doesn't drink that much, intoxicated off of your presence alone, and it's addicting. The rush gets to his head and you convince him to play a round of beer pong with you, relishing in the way you embrace him after he sinks a ball into one of the cups and feeling the shape of your breasts against his chest, hot and sweaty, and he just wants to taste you, wants to lick up your shoulder up to your jaw and wrench beautiful noises out of your pouty lips.

It's a silly, stupid game, shooting balls into cups, but when he wins the game for the two of you, you're looking at him so ecstatically, overjoyed and nearly falling into his lap. "Yuuta, Yuuta, baby, holy shit—didn't think you had it in you. Good job!"

Your praises set something on fire inside him. "I can win another," His voice is hoarse, pleading, and he knows he can win another. "Watch me."

All night, he's glued to your side, fetching drinks for you, holding your purse, winning more and more games just to see you happy, just to hear you praise him a little bit more, harmless words that you don't even know carry so much weight for him.

It's almost 4 AM when the party really starts to wind down, and that buzz of alcohol's just starting to really get you flushed, and you motion to your friends to wrap it up, to get going. But not Yuuta.

Yuuta helps you up the stairs and into your room, and he takes a moment to soak it all in, your room and all of its treasures. It's filled to the brim with mementos, photos, and clutter that's been specifically tailored for your taste, and his head's swimming, overwhelmed from being wrapped up in you. "Yuuta?" Your voice is soft and inviting, looking back at his form by the door as you fiddle with the zipper of your dress. You know you can reach it by yourself, but the tension you've felt all night goes taut, string suspended after months of pushing and pulling, and it makes you bolde, more confident. "Wanna help me?"

"S–Sure, yeah," He murmurs, never quite fully meeting your eyes. His hands work diligently, undoing the zipper, and watching as it descends to your lower back, exposing your spine. "There… there you go."

"Thank you," To his surprise, you shuck the whole fabric entirely, leaving you exposed in just your underwear. His eyes widen, trying to avert his eyes from your figure, but you reach for his hands, willing them to stay at his sides. "It's okay, Yuuta. You can take a look."

Yuuta surges forward in an instant. It starts as a chaste, innocent kiss, fast and spurred by the rush of alcohol and desire in your veins, and in a mere second he's pulling away. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me—"

But you're even faster, pulling him back in by his waist and kissing him deeper, with more ferocity. When you lets him up for air, you see just how much he needs you, how much he wants it, and you sober up rapidly, pushing him up aggressively against the bathroom wall and making him give in.

You may be a little too aggressive, but you can't find it in you to care, when Yuuta's squirming against you, unabashed hands sneaking to grab at the globes of your ass and press himself closer to you. You nip and nibble at his lips, tongue swiping over to soften the blow as your Yuuta slowly loses his mind.

When he gasps, you're probing your tongue into his mouth, hot and filthy, drawing moans out of him when you suck on his bottom lip, exploring him for all his worth. You kiss like you're parched and he's your oasis, unrelenting and unforgiving with the way you wrench him even closer by his hair, and he moans, a depraved and nasty sound that only serves to satisfy you further.

The wall's nice, but your bed's even nicer, grabbing him and forcing him down on the downy mattress to climb up on his lap, rocking into his hardness and dragging your clothed pussy over the rough material of his jeans, never leaving his grasp  only to mutter praises you know he likes. "Mmmmm, Yuuta, you're so—"

You gasp when he pulls you down even further, his hips involuntarily griiiinding you down in a way that sends shivers down your spine. "Don't stop. More, more, more." And who were you to refuse your baby?

Yuuta's so needy and demanding, and his actions are sometimes rapid and unrefined, but he makes up for it with sheer enthusiasm, in disbelief that he's finally got you in this position. You also find out that he's eager to leave marks all over your pristine skin, sucking marks that will surely bloom purple on your collarbone and the highest peaks of your breasts. He's running on instinct, you realize.

He paws at your underwear, desperate to get the flimsy fabric off as you giggle and finally shuck them off your legs. "Slow down, Yuuta!" But he can't pay any mind to that, 'cause in seconds, he's mouthing at your sweet, sweet cunt, until his jaw's drenched, mindlessly flicking his tongue back and forth, finally getting the taste of you imprinted onto his tongue, his body, his mind.

"Such a pretty baby," You coo, a hand coming down to grab at his hair and press him closer to your cunt, sighing delightfully when his nose brushes your pubic bone and his tongue slides up and down, up and down, setting a pace that makes you rock against his face. "So good for me, baby, so sweet. Always takin' care 'f me."

Diligent, obedient, wrapped in the palm of your hand as he eats you out like you're his last meal, and you swear you see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. "God, you taste so good, holy shit—" obscene, graphic words that you would've never imagined Yuuta saying.

Your back arches when he forces you to grind even closer down the bottom of his face, thighs wrapped securely around his head and nails scratching at your ass, intensifying the feeling of falling down this slippery slope with him. There's lewd sounds all around you and it's all you can hear, eyes closed shut as you soak the bedsheets underneath you.

Yuuta's tongue scrapes against your clit and you jolt, helpless whines tumbling out as he takes note, wraps his lips around the bundle of muscles and sucks, harshly and unforgivingly. There's stars behind your eyes, and you're gripping onto the sheets, waiting for that string to snap and it does—cursing and mouth parting in a silent scream.

It takes a second for you to become lucid again, but you come back to awareness with Yuuta still licking off your juices, hot tongue lazily cleaning you off so generously and with so much care, a thumb stroking the smooth skin of your thigh, like he didn't just make you ascend to heaven a few minutes before. 

He only pulls off of you with a slight push, and he looks up at you like you've just deprived him of oxygen. Yuuta's sprawled over your pink comforters so innocently and you lick your lips, eyeing his jeans with desire. "Mind if I return the favor, Yuuta?"

When he doesn't answer, you ask again. "Yuuta?"

"I'm sorry, I've never—I've never done that before," It's that familiar flush again, painting a brilliant blush onto his cheeks.  "Or any of this before, really, um—I got a little… excited, I'm sorry." Oh. Well, that's a first. "But–But give me a second! I can go again, I swear, I promise, it just takes me a little bit of time—" "Yuuta," You reach forward to cup his face, and he slumps onto your touch so easily, inky blue eyes encircled with exhaustion going softer at your touch. Slowly, you drag yourself back onto his lap, excitement rushing through you at the prospect of taking every single one of his firsts. Hell, you'll wait all week if you have to. "I can wait. We've got until sunrise, yeah?"

To pass the time, you strip off the rest of his clothes and lay him down on the bed, content to just lick and nibble at the milky expanse of his neck, captivated by his soft sighs and little whines. Something stirs you to play with his nipples, pinching and squeezing the bud until Yuuta's breathless, begging you to stop and keep going at the same time. "Hm, you like that?"

"Y–Yes! Don't stop," He whimpers when the pad of your finger swipes across the sensitive skin, hips raising to the air. "Don't stop, please, please, I need it, I need—"

"Needy, needy, needy," You tut, but you keep going anyway, and you feel dizzy from the amount of power he's just placed on your hands. "What do you think about putting some clamps on these, huh? Maybe for next time. Think you'd look so pretty, don't you think?"

You lick a soft, velvety stripe up his neck to nibble on the outer lobe of his ear, thrilled with the way he gasps, leaning further into your touch. "Just picture it. Some sparkly little clamps on these, while I jerk you off nice and slow, force you to feel it all. Pulling away just when you reach the edge. Think you might actually lose your mind." Your laugh is piercing, and he gets hard once again at the thought of being completely and utterly at your mercy. "You ready for round two, Yuuta?"

He's at a loss of words, only able to nod uselessly and watch as you climb back on top of him, groaning when he feels to heat of your pussy on top of his cock, ramrod hard again and already leaking pre-cum. He swallows the lump of his throat, unable to tear his eyes away, but he regains his sanity for a moment. "C–Condom?"

"Nah, Yuuta, we don't need it," You giggle, aligning the angry and red, leaking tip of him to your entrance, rubbing it around sloppily to lubricate yourself with his and your juices. You moan quietly at the sensation, trying to regain your composure. "I'm on the pill and I'm clean. Besides, you're a virgin, right?"

"Uh…Uh–huh," Yuuta can't stop looking at where you're almost connected, mesmerized. "You're my first." Your grin gets even wider. He was putty in your hands, he would do anything if you asked him to.

"Hm, 'f you play your cards right, maybe I can be your last," You see the glint of hope in his eyes just before you sink down, delighted with the way his lips fall slightly open, heart beat elevating. The stretch is harder than you expected, groaning lowly as you force yourself to descend fully down until you meet his pelvis, resisting the urge to start bouncing right then and there, not when Yuuta looks fully ready to combust. "Y–You alright? Heh, lookin' a bit pale."

You're a bit nervous, yourself, but you're not gonna admit that and betray this nonchalant image you've curated. When you move even slightly, hips readjusting for your comfort, Yuuta squirms. Patience, patience. You huff. He's big. "Give… give me a second to adjust. I'm—mmmf!"

Yuuta can't help it, he can't stop the way he pounds up into you and causes you to yelp, desperate to feel your velvety walls clench around him. He looks at you with restraint that's very quickly fading. "S–Sorry! nghhh—" He grabs onto your hips, subjecting you to another brutal thrust that wrenches helpless moans from you in turn. "I'm—I need, just let me—"

"I'll be good, promise, swear, fuck, just need to fuck you so bad!"

He's babbling even as he starts fucking up into you with a renewed vigor, the picture of depravity, eyes rolling back as he takes his pleasure for his own. You're on top, and yet he's the one controlling the pace, veiny hands forcing you to meet every single one of his thrusts as if you were nothing more than a doll. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, feels so good!"

Your second orgasm of the night surprises you with a jolt, tongue lolling out and lost in an orgasm-fueled haze, and Yuuta's capturing your mouth with his, tasting you, drinking in your moans and mindless pleas. How the tables have turned, boneless in his lap now, as he keeps murmuring praises for you. 

And yet, he doesn't stop. He's insatiable, you realize. You've unlocked a complete fucking monster, a monster that keeps fucking you through your orgasm.

"Ugggh, Yuutaaaaa—" You don't even know what you're begging for at this point, tears involuntarily pulling at the corners of your eyes. It just feels so good. Your previous partners have never made you feel this good, to the point that your toes are cooling and there's a string of drool connecting the two of you together. Yuuta pays you no mind, eyes closed shut as he chases his own high.

His pace grows ragged and uncontrolled, and his voice is hoarse, murmuring wanton pleas that makes you ache with need. Your beautiful, beautiful boy. "Can I cum? Oh please, let me cum, fuck, going to be s'good for you, mmm, 'll fuck you every day, be your last," He moans, low and long, like he can barely contain himself any longer. "Let me cum, please."

"Yes, yes, yes, cum for me, Yuuta, mmf! Mm—let me see you fall apart, cum inside me," Your words are what brings him over the edge, and he's collapsing into your touch, nothing but your name and your pretty face carrying him through.

When he slowly returns to lucidity, it's a familiar sight as he encounters your devilish smile. "Can you give me another one, baby? Please?"

Sunlight's streaming through the window by the time you get through with him, true to your word, fucking him every which way until you've lost track of time. He's so eager to learn, so eager to memorize every way to pleasure you, until he's nothing but a boneless heap on your bed, reduced to soft moans and whimpers.

The air's thick with sex and your sheets are soaked, but it doesn't matter, not when the prettiest boy in the world's panting and heaving, in a daze after cumming over and over and over. It fills you with a sweet sense of satisfaction, and you're not even close to being done.

You'll take care of him for now, wash off the musky headiness of sex and all your juices, press innocent kisses on all the marks you've left, shower him with praise and comforting words, let him rest for a bit, but it's only Saturday.

By the time you're done with him, you'll truly be the only thing left on his mind.

© ROSESAINTS ᐟ — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. requests are OPEN .ᐟ

[lalunalando]

High Altitudes - LN4

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), needy gf reader, mile high club, cockwarming

Songs: Own My Mind - Maneskin / White Glove - Dove Cameron (bold parts are lyrics used)

It’s been 5 hours into this 22 hour flight, and to say you were bored would be putting it lightly.

With the AusGP and surrounding celebrations over, you Lando and Max were flying back to England with a few of the team on the jet so he could do a factory debrief after another successful podium.

Lando was currently asleep in the seat next to you, worn out from a big week of exploring and most of all the celebrations from the evening before that ran well into the morning hours.

You on the other hand, couldn’t sleep. Lando had started something right before you had to leave thinking it would be funny, but being stuck on a plane for 22 hours now, you wanted to kill him for leaving you so needy.

Every time you tried to close your eyes, images of his hands on you plagued your mind.

The way his facial hair tickled your thighs while he buried his head in your heat.

The way he looked down at you half-lidded with pouty lips parted while you were on your knees for him.

You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together hoping to relieve even a little pressure.

Lando woke up to you squirming around in your seat, reaching a hand over to grab your thigh and make you stop.

“Babe, are you okay? You’re being real wiggly right now.” He says through a yawn.

“Uh, yeah sorry, just um feeling a little cold i guess” you respond, looking away from him as to not show him the blush across your face that was red enough to rival Ferrari.

Tapping your thigh to get your attention back on him, he has to hold back a laugh hearing the high pitch of your voice, knowing exactly what was going on.

“Princess, you should have told me sooner, come here” he says softly, as he lifts the blanket that’s laid over him for you to join him on his seat.

You thought for a second, knowing you wanted to be close to him but also knowing you wouldn’t cope being that close to him.

Seeing the way he looked at you with sweet puppy dog eyes as he laid on his side, you realized he really did just want to help, so against your better judgements you got up and wiggled into the space beside him, getting cozy under the nice warm blanket as his arm wrapped around your waist from behind.

Feeling him pressed against you wasn’t doing anything to help the ache building between your legs, but at least it was cozy enough now that you could try and get at least a few hours sleep to distract your mind.

Or at least you thought that would be the case.

Just as you started to feel yourself drifting off, Lando starts sliding his hand from your waist down to your heat, bringing you back to full alertness.

“Lan, wh-what are you doing?” You say, trying to hold in a whimper as his fingers trailed up under the dress you’d worn, just trying to be comfortable for the flight.

“Just trying to warm you up darling, you were cold right?” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he buries his face into your neck, leaving little kisses in his wake.

“Lando we can’t, max is right across the table” you whine quietly as his fingers trail up and down the wet patch that has well and truly formed on your panties.

“Max is asleep, don’t you want to know what the good, good, bad things all feel like?” He whispers, sending another chill down your spine as he starts moving your panties to the side and circling your clit slowly.

“Can you be quiet baby? We can only keep going if you stay quiet, don’t want anyone waking up to see you like this do we?” He says as he leaves another kiss right below your ear, making you bite your lip to stay quiet as you nod in agreement

As he continues his torment with one hand, he quietly releases himself from the confines of his sweatpants with the other, giving himself a few strokes.

“How about you keep this warm for me princess, think you can do that?” He asks as he parts yours legs slightly, hooking one over his own to give himself more space, as he runs his tip through your folds a few times before poking his tip at your entrance.

All you can do is whimper and nod as he pushes in slowly, so slow it’s making you lose your mind.

After a few minutes of stillness, him just resting inside, you feel like you’re going to go crazy.

“Lan can you please move? Need to feel you already”

“Nuh uh baby, you’re just supposed to be keeping it warm for me. Thought we couldn’t do this with everyone around, what if max wakes up” he teases, using your own words against you.

“You might be the answer to the sinner in me” you quietly groan as you lean your head back against him.

It takes Lando all of his self control to not wake the entire plain up with a loud groan after hearing that, knowing he can’t keep the teasing much longer.

“Meet me in the bathroom in 5 minutes” he demands before pulling out, making you whimper at the loss of contact as he readjusts himself in his sweatpants, before getting up and heading to the small plane bathroom.

This was it. You were going to join the infamous mile high club today you guess.

After what you assume to be 5 minutes, you quietly get up and head to the bathroom, hoping no one wakes up.

You knock as lightly as you can on the door to alert Lando that you were there, and within seconds you were being pulled into the bathroom with him and pushed back against the door the moment it was locked behind you.

Lando wasted no time, biting at your neck as he pushed his bulge into you, making sure you knew how painfully hard he was for you.

“Excited to join the mile high club baby?” He smirks before finally kissing you properly, hands still wandering up your thighs to your ass, tapping lightly on your ass to tell you to jump and wrap your legs around him.

You use this moment to mess with him a little, as payback for his earlier teasing.

“Who said i haven’t done this before?” You ask as you pull back and tilt your head at him, a smirk on your lips

“Well then angel, gonna make you swallow all that pride, take you up to higher heights” he growls before putting you back down on the ground, turning you around and pushing you to bend over the sink.

You don’t have a moment to think as he pushes your skirt up over your ass and smacks it hard, making such a noise you’re sure anyone awake outside would have heard it.

Before you can scold him, he’s pushing his sweatpants down to free himself again and pushing your panties to the side, lining himself up with your entrance before pushing himself in roughly, giving you no time to adjust.

You bite your lip to contain your moan, biting so hard it draws blood.

“You know I’ve just gotta have it baby, can’t help myself being rough when you take me so fucking well” he growls in your ear, snapping his hips into yours so rough your sure the sink in front of you is going to bruise your own hips that are hitting it in the process

You’re a whimpering mess in front of him as he pulls your hair and makes you watch yourself taking him in the reflection of the mirror.

“Look how much of a slut you are, taking every inch of me in a plane bathroom while our friends are outside all because you were too needy and desperate to wait until we got home”

”I couldn’t help it lan, need you so bad all the time” you’re a panting mess at this point, fueled by the feeling of your own arousal sliding down your legs as he continues his relentless punishment on you.

“God you’re such a good girl for me always, you own my mind” he says as he locks eyes with your own in the mirrors reflection

It doesn’t take long before his thrusts get sloppy, signaling he’s not far off finishing.

“Please Lan, need to cum, need to be full of you” you pant out, your own high teetering on the edge.

He slides the hand, that’s currently gripping your hip with such force your sure there will be bruises of his entire fingerprint on it, around to your clit and rubs tight circles with the rough pads of his pointer and middle finger, completely making you come undone.

Feeling you tighten around him, he’s quick to release your hair and cover your mouth to muffle the moans spilling out of your mouth as he bites on your shoulder to muffle his own, spilling himself into you as you pulse around his cock.

After a few minutes of regaining your breath, he’s slipping out of you and making you whine as his cum seeps out after him. Suddenly he’s shocking you and your over sensitive parts once again as he pushed his cum back into you with two fingers and then places your panties back into place, patting your pussy as if to say “good job”, before sliding your dress back down over you.

You give yourselves a few minutes to regain composure, Lando helping you fix your hair he’s knotted up with his fist but unable to help you stop looking so blissfully fucked out and flushed, before you get ready to slip out hopefully without anyone noticing you’ve both been missing for so long.

As you open the door while looking at Lando and giggling, you turn around to the cocky face of Max Fewtrell, arms crossed in amusement.

“Took you both long enough, I’ve had to piss for 20 minutes now” he says with a smirk, holding back laughter as he watched you turn paler than a ghost in horror that you we’re caught.

“I won’t tell anyone, if you both move the fuck out of the way before i piss myself” he suddenly gets serious, pushing you both out of the way and locking the door behind him.

Lando just laughs as he leads you back to your seats, pulling you down to squish back into his one and cover you both with the blanket again before cuddling up to you.

“Think you can get some sleep now pretty girl?” He asks as he places a kiss to your temple

“yeah i think I’m warm enough now” you respond with a smile, making him let out a chuckle into your hair

Max returns and sits across from you both, making a face of disgust before breaking character and laughing, making you and Lando laugh with him.

“Well, welcome to the mile high club lovebirds”

[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) Ageless blogs that try to follow me will be blocked

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 I 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.)

[lemonlover1110]

Hi! For your requests could you do clingy reader in her early 20s and Toji in his mid 30s finding out she's pregnant and interacting with her strict parents? Please?

Whenever you get the chance, lysm!

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: You break the news to your parents that you're expecting.

Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy, Age Gap (Reader early 20s, Toji mid thirties), Toji being a nervous wreck, Strict Parents

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Finding out that your girlfriend should be great news; however, this news takes Toji by surprise and leaves him unsure of how to feel. It definitely wasn’t planned, though he shouldn’t be shocked since you two weren’t all that careful. Toji wants to get really excited for this but there’s something that holds him back– Your parents.

Your parents haven’t been very accepting of Toji, mostly because of your age gap. Of course, there are some other factors that lead to your parents not liking Toji, but your age gap is the main one. Your parents aren’t easy human beings to win over, and for some reason Toji is freaking out about it. Truthfully, Toji has never been more worried in his life.

“Can’t you just call them? Tell them the great news?” He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s freaking out when you’re standing at their doorstep. You’re holding his hand, trying to get him to calm down, but it’s not working and you’re just feeling his sweaty palm. Great.

“C’mon, they’re not going to eat you alive. You are the reason they’re getting a cute grandbaby.” You tell him, hoping it’ll calm down his nerves, but he just side eyes you.

“Like that makes it any better.” He mutters, and you roll your eyes. Toji’s acting as if your dad is going to grab a shotgun and shoot him– Even if that were to happen, you’re almost sure that Toji will somehow deflect a bullet. “Baby, can you have an ambulance on standby?”

“Toji, for the love of–” You’re cut off by the door that opens. Your mother greets you both sweetly. She figured that she can’t change your mind, she might as well welcome Toji into the family. Your father is a whole different story though.

Your father is less welcoming to Toji, but he tries to make some conversation with the man. It’s dry since your father doesn’t want to talk to Toji, and Toji is losing his fucking mind.

Dinner begins, and your mother is the one that carries the conversation. Toji feels as if your father glares at him every once in a while, and you notice how his breathing gets heavier. He’s freaking out, and you don’t know how to calm him down. 

Your hand goes under the table, going to Toji’s thigh and lightly squeezing it, hoping it’ll bring him comfort. Toji gives you an awkward smile before sighing.

“So why did you two want to join us for dinner?” Your father asks, knowing this isn’t just a bonding dinner. You’re here for a reason. You clear your throat before speaking,

“We have an announcement.” You sound awkward, and your father furrows his eyebrows while your mother smiles, thinking she knows what the announcement is. You and Toji exchange a look, and you can tell he just wants to sprint out of the house. It’s hilarious to think about since Toji is the biggest person in the room, and not to even mention that you two are grown adults.

“You’re engaged! Let us see the ring!” Your mother exclaims, and Toji’s face suddenly gets hot. If he wasn’t dead before, he certainly is going to die now. The fact that you aren’t married is surely going to cause an issue.

“I don’t think that’s it…” Your father figures that out, but he can’t figure out the announcement. You take a deep breath, and you shut your eyes. You can’t even look at them, Toji’s nerves transferring over to you.

“I’m pregnant.” You share, and you know that their eyes are wide. You know Toji is about to faint.

“We don’t know how it happened– Well, we know how it happened but… We weren’t planning it so soon, I had a wedding and everything planned but this just came out of nowhere.” Toji is rambling. Your Toji, a man of few words, is trying to explain everything to your dad because he doesn’t want to die tonight. He’s sure he’s still going to, though. 

Your parents are oddly quiet, making you open your eyes and see what’s up with them. Your dad ends up sighing before speaking up, “You two are adults, you know what you’re doing.”

Your mother nods in agreement, and you furrow your brows at the lack of reaction. Toji shares the same reaction as you do. 

“Is that all?” Toji is about to let out a sigh of relief.

“Yup. Can’t hold you for too long since you two have to start planning a wedding soon.” Is your father’s response, and Toji chuckles. That’s more like it.

At least he isn’t dead, which was Toji’s expected outcome.

[asidian]

Can we talk about this scene?

This is in episode 4, right after they've gotten back from their Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day at the Beach. This is after Charles has been put through the absolute emotional trauma wringer and had his sobbing breakdown.

This is the second time in the past five minutes of show time that Edwin – stilted, repressed, not-terribly-good-at-people Edwin – has stepped outside his comfort zone and made the effort to try and reach out to Charles when he's hurting, awkward though those attempts may be.

But what else does it come on the heels of?

Edwin deliberately failing to mention that the Cat King had shown up in the middle of the case. It only gets mentioned at all because Niko doesn't realize she's meant to be keeping it under wraps. And Charles is upset, not just because the Cat King was there, but because Edwin was planning to keep it from him.

Let's take a look at what Charles actually knows about the Cat King, here.

The Cat King spirited Edwin away for what seemed to be several hours. He did ??something?? to Edwin while he was there. Edwin is extremely cagey about telling the whole story. Apparently at some point he was whispering in Edwin's ear? He's showing up during cases now, and Edwin is out of sorts and trying to keep it secret.

From Charles' point of view, Charles is meant to be the protector. He's the brawn; it is his job to keep Edwin safe. For the entire series, he's stepping in front of threats and squaring up to take things down before they can lay so much as a finger on Edwin.

But all of a sudden, here's this threat to his most important person that he can't fight, can't do anything at all about, because Edwin is keeping it from him.

Charles is still feeling helpless after the Devlin house. He's feeling like he can't do anything to help anyone, and part of that is Edwin pushing him away for probably the first time in thirty years.

"I can't stop whatever it is that's going on with you," he tells Edwin, when he's listing all the things he can't fix.

And then immediately afterward, we get this scene. Edwin offers to listen, if Charles needs to talk.

And Charles? Who's still hurting, and feeling so damn keenly that he's been shut out of Edwin's life and problems lately, and that Edwin doesn't trust him to help with whatever it is that's been upsetting him?

Gives this answer, with that smile. And damn, it hurts.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: panic attack, PPD

"Does tomorrow morning work? I'll be heading to base immediately after. Want to make sure I have enough time to say goodbye."

"Yeah, we'll see you then."

Simon goes to bed early that night.

He's good at clearing his mind and willing himself to sleep, hovering just barely there on the surface, never dipping too deep, and has done it for years. It enables his ability to rest in even some of the most uncomfortable circumstances (and that includes Johnny's snoring). It's compartmentalizing at it's finest, something he's tried to impress upon the sergeants too, over time.

Learn how to do this. It may save your life.

The pendulum swing keeps him somewhat aware, connected to a very small piece still tethered to the conscious world.

It's how he hears his phone ring at twenty hundred.

The caller ID flashes your name and he picks up immediately, sitting straight up. "Hey-"

"Hi, um..." You're crying. He flips himself out of bed, already partially dress, and manages to locate his shoes in a millisecond.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you... can you c-come- take the baby for a little while?" Your exhale whistles through the phone sharply. "P-please. I know you- you're leaving tomorrow but I-"

"It's alright, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute. Are you okay?"

"I- I... don't know wh-what to do." You're hyperventilating, caught in the grip of something, scared and alone. The sidewalk stretches for miles, his lungs burning as the oxygen stays trapped in his chest from the weight of his fear, and the line goes quiet, call ending as he makes it to the lobby of your building and up the stairs.

The copy of your key he never returned gets him inside, and the first thing he notices, or realizes, is Orion's screaming. He calls your name, yells it, beelining for the nursery where the baby lays on his back, hands and feet wriggling wildly in the air, tears coursing down his cheeks as he wails. "Alright, Ry, alright. C'mere, I've got you." You're not in here, not anywhere in sight, and his stomach flips.

You have to be here. He just talked to you.

But you wouldn't know how to signal him if something was really wrong, would you? He didn't prepare you. If something happened, how would you tell him?

He tucks Orion into his arms, cradles him to his chest, and bounces him gently. "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. What's all this crying about, hmm? What is it? Where's your mama?" The crying gentles, barely, and Simon holds him at a distance, quickly, checking him over. He's not overheated, he doesn't seem to be hurt, he's freshly bathed and in a clean onesie. His nappy is new and doesn't need to be changed. "Mama took good care of you, huh? You're all clean, fresh nappy, ready for bed, aren't you bub? Yeah." Simon paces in a circle, trying to settle his cries, before lowering him back into the crib. "You stay right here, little man, alright? Close your eyes. Daddy's gonna find mama and he'll be right back."

You're not in the living room, and he finds your bedroom dark when he opens the door. For a very brief moment, his panic blooms into paralyzation, before he spots the light from your bathroom.

His heart breaks when he opens the door.

You're on the floor, back against the vanity, sobbing with your palms covering your ears. You look like you haven't showered in days, and your light blue t shirt is soaked, slicked to your breasts and belly.

There's no distance between the two of you in this moment, no barriers, no time, no need for space. He kneels, and you look up, tearful eyes telling him all he needs to know. "I'm here, mama. I've got you."

You go into his arms willingly, diaphragm heaving with tiny hiccups and sobs, unable to catch your breath. Your entire body shakes, and wraps himself around you, holding you tight where you've buried your face in his chest. "I- I'm s-sorry." You're hoarse, voice cracked and broken. "He w-won't stop."

"Shhh, don't worry about that right now, just take a deep breath." You shake your head.

"I can't."

"Yes you can." You're frozen, panicked, and he smoothes his hand over your head. "You can do it, honey. Try f'me." The baby is still crying, and with the bathroom door slightly ajar, it bounces off the tile, all around you. Simon grimaces.

He's fine, he's safe. He's in his crib.

Simon shuts the door.

"Breathe with me, alright?" he maneuvers you so that you're in his arms, laying on his chest, face tipped back to his. "Just follow me," he pulls the hand that's gripping onto his forearm like rebar away and places it over his heart, "like this." You try and try to sync your breathing with his, and once you finally get there, evening out slowly, he kisses your hair. "There you go, good girl."

Simon keeps you close, happy to hold you, even if it was in these circumstances. It's so selfish, so wrong, but he can't find it in himself to let you go, waiting long past the point when you've calmed down to finally speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"He... he wouldn't stop crying. For hours and I... I tried everything, but I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt... dizzy, and when I went to feed him he didn't want me and I was crying too, but I felt so- so mad at the same time, and I didn't know what to do so I j-just put him in his crib and came in here and c-called you. I don't kn-know what I did wrong-" your breathing slips into shallow territory again, and he rubs your back.

"You didn't do anything wrong. He's okay, he's safe. He's even got a fresh nappy on. You made sure you took care of him, which is all you need to do, okay?"

"I feel awful," you whisper, drenched in shame, "he needs to eat, and I just- I abandoned him."

"No, you did the right thing and took a break. There's nothing wrong with taking a break." You sniffle, pulling the sopping shirt away from your body, shivering with discomfort. "Do you want to try again? See if it goes any better?" You give him a frightened look, unsure and nervous. "I'll be right here with you."

"Okay."

"Let's go see your mama." Orion has worked himself into a state, and it tears Simon to pieces, guilt about leaving him in here ripping through his heart.

He feels responsible. He is responsible, at the end of the day. If he had been upfront with you from the beginning, this might have never happened. He would have been here. You would have the support you need.

He was supposed to take care of you, but all he did was make it worse.

He kisses Orion gently. It helps quell the anxiety growing like a plague inside him, worry and fear about leaving you on your own for weeks, or more, chipping away at his resolve. He tells himself you'll be okay, that you did it on your own before he came along, and that you can do it again, but the admission of another dizzy spell doesn't make him feel any better in the long run.

"Don't worry, she's okay now. She loves you so much, you know that? She takes such good care of you, all the time. Even when she doesn't feel good, doesn't she?" He doesn't turn the lights on to your bedroom, and finds you on the bed, sitting up, wet shirt discarded on the floor. He doesn't rush it, doesn't push you, even though the baby cries at the top of his lungs in Simon's arms.

Finally, you hold your hands out. He helps get Orion settled, stroking his cheek over and over until he starts to instinctually seek you out, latching after a few long minutes.

Your eyes slip closed at the silence and you lean to the side, nestling into Simon's chest.

He holds you. You hold his baby.

How it was always meant to be.

He whispers above your ear, working his fingers into the knots of your neck, your shoulders. "You're doing great, mama." You hum but stay quiet, head down, fingers stroking over Ry's cheek, again and again.

"Thank you... for being here. I know things are complicated but it means a lot that you would come. I'm sorry I freaked out, about your job. I just... it's a lot to take in. I don't really know how to feel. I need some time." That's good, he thinks. Better than last week, when you asked him to leave with tears in your eyes. There's hope. He can fix this.

"You can have all the time you want sweetheart, but... I need to ask you a favor." Orion's body full relaxes, little fist clenched in the swell of your breast falling away, and you sigh.

"What is it?"

"When I'm away... I can turn my phone on every now and then, in specific places. D'you think you could send me some pictures? Or maybe I could call, when I'm able?"

"Of course."

He stays most of the night, until the sun comes up. Gets Ry back down, stands watch while you're in shower, helps you get settled in bed. There's a special place in his heart for you when you're soft and sweet and sleepy, a tiny kitten, curling up in the palm of his hand, purring. His moon. His everything.

"You be good for your mama, okay? I expect a good report when I get home. And try not to grow too much, alright little man?" He kisses his head, holding it there, walking around in the kitchen with Ry in his arms. "I love you, Orion. You and your mama. I'll be home real soon."

You turn the corner, something clenched in your hands, what, he can't tell, and you smile sadly. "I uh... I have something for you." He cocks, his head, shifting the baby to one arm, and you hold your fist out. "It's kind of dumb, honestly, but I thought you might... I don't know. I thought you might like it. I made it myself." It's a small fabric square, embroidered with a constellation, Orion's, he recognizes now, and a compass. "It's so you can always find it in the night sky. If you're in the northern hemisphere it should be south west, and if you're in the southern, it's in the north west. I didn't know like, what you could take with you but I figured this is small enough..." You look embarrassed, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and kiss you.

But he can't. He can only whisper your name, thick with emotion.

"It's great. I'll use it every night. Thank you." You blink, eyes wet, and then nod. He glances at his watch.

"Time to go?"

"Yeah," he hands you the baby, and picks up his duffle, the weight foreign now but still familiar. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I will."

"Promise me." He's stern, pushing a little bit of lieutenant into it, and you agree again, quickly.

"I will." You follow him to the door, holding Orion up for him to kiss one last time, and then he presses his mouth to your forehead, pleased when you don't pull away. He's dragging it out, the reluctance too ripe, and finally hangs his head in defeat after the too short minutes tick away.

"I'll see you soon." He gives you one last look, memorizing your face, Orion's, as much as he can, before heading down the hall.

"Simon," you call, turning him on a dime, "be careful, okay? Make sure... make sure you come home." Home.

"I will. I promise."

[satellite-evans]

Drunk in love

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: When their wives get drunk, it is up to the Bridgerton brothers to take care of them ;)

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Kate and reader are drunk lol, just pure fluff

A/N:

this is just something silly I had in my mind lol enjoy

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The Bridgerton household was steeped in the soft glow of the evening, and in the library, two brothers sat comfortably. Benedict Bridgerton leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips as he listened to Anthony's latest tirade about the complexities of running the family estate. The occasional crackle of the fire punctuated Anthony’s words, creating a comforting backdrop to their conversation.

"It's all well and good for you, Benedict," Anthony was saying, "to prance about with your paints and canvases. But someone has to keep this family afloat."

Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. "You take life far too seriously, Anthony. One day, you'll realize there's more to it than ledgers and land."

Before Anthony could retort, a burst of laughter erupted from the drawing room, loud enough to make both men pause. They exchanged curious glances, and without a word, rose to investigate the source of the commotion.

As they approached the drawing room, the laughter grew louder and more infectious. Pushing the door open, they were met with a sight that brought simultaneous smiles and sighs to their faces. There, amidst a sea of discarded shawls and half-empty wine glasses, were their wives: Y/N and Kate, draped over the settee in fits of giggles.

"My love," Benedict began, striding over to Y/N, who looked up at him with sparkling, mischievous eyes.

"Ben!" Y/N exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "Have you come to join our party?"

Anthony moved to Kate, who was similarly animated, her cheeks flushed with wine. "What on earth is going on here?" he asked, unable to keep a smile from his lips.

"We were just... having a bit of fun," Kate replied, her words slightly slurred. "Isn't that right, Y/N?"

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, her grip on Benedict tightening. "Yes! And you should have been here, Benedict. We were planning all sorts of adventures!"

Benedict exchanged a knowing look with Anthony. "It's getting late," he said gently. "Perhaps it's time to retire for the night before we wake the whole household."

"But we’re not tired!" Kate protested, though she yawned right after.

"Yes!" Y/N said eagerly. " We have work to do. We need to save the pirates!"

Benedict looked at Anthony with a confused look on his face, not understanding a word his wife is saying.

"The pirates? What pirates?" He asked his wife.

"Silly Benedict, the pirates that got captured of course! If we don't help them they will die or worse, catch a cold." Kate said to her brother-in-law while slurring the words, indicating that the night was surely over for the 2 ladies.

With a mixture of gentle coaxing and persuasive charm, Benedict and Anthony managed to guide their wives towards the staircase, their efforts accompanied by more giggles and shushing noises. Y/N and Kate were like a pair of mischievous schoolgirls, clutching each other for support as they swayed precariously.

"Shhh, we must be quiet!" Kate whispered loudly, her finger pressed to Y/N's lips.

"Yes, shhh!" Y/N echoed, though her laughter threatened to spill over.

Benedict exchanged an amused glance with Anthony. "Easier said than done," he muttered, placing a steadying hand on Y/N's waist.

The trek upstairs was a comedic parade of whispered laughter and shuffling feet. Y/N, in her drunken state, decided it was a brilliant idea to try walking on her tiptoes to avoid making noise. She stumbled, her giggles turning into a high-pitched squeal as Benedict caught her just in time.

"My hero," she declared, leaning heavily against him.

"Always," Benedict replied, his voice filled with warmth.

Meanwhile, Anthony had his hands full with Kate, who seemed determined to recount an elaborate and entirely fictitious tale about their latest adventure. "And then the pirate said, 'No, it's my treasure!' and I told him, 'You can have it, but only if you dance a jig!'"

Anthony shook his head, suppressing his laughter. "Let's get you to bed, love. You can tell me the rest of the story tomorrow."

As they finally reached the top of the stairs, the brothers carefully navigated their wives down the hall to their respective bedrooms. Y/N clung to Benedict, her fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt.

"Do you know what we should do, Ben?" she whispered, her voice conspiratorial. "We should have our own little party. Just you and me."

Benedict raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that so?"

Y/N nodded, her movements exaggerated by the effects of the wine. "Yes. And I have... ideas." She bit her lip, trying to look sexy for her husband but failing miserably.

Benedict couldn't help but laugh softly at her earnest expression. "I'm sure you do, darling. But I think you might regret them in the morning."

She pouted, leaning in closer. "You're laughing at me," she accused, though her own lips twitched upwards.

"Never," Benedict said, kissing her forehead. "I just find you utterly adorable."

Y/N’s pout deepened. "I’m trying to seduce you, Benedict Bridgerton, and you’re laughing."

Benedict wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "And I love you for it," he murmured. "But you’re far too drunk to remember this tomorrow."

Y/N huffed, but her eyelids were already drooping. "Fine. But you owe me, mister."

"I’ll gladly pay my dues," he promised, tucking her under the covers, making sure she was comfortable.

Once the bedroom doors softly clicked shut behind them, Benedict and Anthony exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of fond exasperation and lingering mirth.

Anthony let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Well, that was certainly an eventful evening."

Benedict grinned, running a hand through his hair. "Indeed. I never knew Y/N had such a penchant for dramatic declarations."

"And Kate," Anthony added with a raised eyebrow, "tyring to save pirates? I wonder where she comes up with these ideas."

Benedict chuckled softly, moving to pour himself a glass of water. "It’s all part of their charm, I suppose. Makes life interesting."

Anthony nodded thoughtfully, leaning against the dresser. "Indeed it does. They certainly keep us on our toes."

Silence settled between them for a moment, the sounds of the quiet house filling the space. Benedict took a sip of water, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at Anthony. "At least they provided us with some entertainment."

Anthony grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To our adventurous wives and the mornings after."

Benedict laughed, clinking his glass against Anthony's. "May we always be prepared for their antics."

The next morning, the dining room was a scene of quiet activity as the Bridgerton family gathered for breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the table laden with a variety of morning fare. Benedict and Anthony were already seated, exchanging knowing glances as they sipped their coffee.

"Good morning," Anthony greeted with a wry smile, his voice a bit too cheerful as Kate and Y/N finally made their way downstairs. The two women looked thoroughly sheepish, their faces pale and their movements slow, battling clear signs of a hangover.

Kate, with a hand on her throbbing head, groaned softly as she took her seat. "Please. Not so loud, Anthony," she muttered, reaching for a slice of toast but ultimately settling for a glass of water.

Y/N, trailing slightly behind, sat down next to Benedict, doing her best to avoid his amused gaze. "Good morning," she mumbled, her voice hoarse, reaching for a cup of tea as if it were a lifeline.

Benedict leaned over, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered in her ear, "How’s your head, my love?"

She shot him a sideways glance, her cheeks coloring. "Let’s not talk about it," she replied, taking a tentative sip of her tea.

"But you were quite the charming seductress last night," Benedict teased gently, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning softly. "I’m never drinking that much again."

At the other end of the table, Kate was having a similar conversation with Anthony. "Honestly, I can't remember the last time I felt this awful," she confessed, gingerly rubbing her temples.

Anthony chuckled, passing her a plate of fruit. "Perhaps next time you’ll heed my warnings about overindulgence."

Kate shot him a baleful look, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Don’t be smug, Anthony. It’s not becoming."

"Who, me? Never," Anthony replied with a wink, earning a soft laugh from Kate despite her discomfort.

As the morning continued, the initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by the comforting normalcy of family life. Eloise and Colin entered the room, their curiosity piqued by the unusual quietness of their typically lively sisters-in-law.

"Good morning," Eloise said brightly, her keen eyes darting between Kate and Y/N. "You two look like you’ve been through the wars."

"Something like that," Y/N muttered, managing a small, embarrassed smile.

Colin, always one for humor, grinned broadly. "Did we miss an adventure last night?"

"Let’s just say it was a night to remember," Benedict replied, his eyes meeting Y/N’s with a tender affection that spoke volumes.

Eloise raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Do tell."

"Another time, perhaps," Y/N said quickly, the color rising in her cheeks again.

As the conversation flowed around the table, the bonds of love and laughter only grew stronger. Despite their mortification, Y/N and Kate couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for their husbands’ gentle teasing and unwavering support.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" Benedict asked Y/N, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. "Bits and pieces," she admitted. "I remember laughing a lot. And I think I tried to..." She trailed off, her cheeks flushing.

Benedict chuckled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "You were very determined to have a private party," he said, his eyes twinkling. "It was quite the spectacle."

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I’m so embarrassed."

"Don't be," Benedict said softly, leaning closer. "I love seeing every side of you, even the tipsy, adventurous one."

At the other end of the table, Kate was facing a similar interrogation. "So, what exactly were you and Y/N plotting in the drawing room?" Anthony asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Kate looked mortified, her face pale except for the flush of her cheeks. "I think we were planning an expedition to find some pirate treasure," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Or something equally ridiculous."

Anthony laughed, the sound rich and warm. "You certainly had quite the adventure in mind. Perhaps we should consider a career change?"

"Very funny," Kate muttered, though she couldn’t help but smile at his good-natured teasing.

The rest of the family, picking up on the mood, joined in the light-hearted banter. Colin leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "It seems our sisters-in-law have a penchant for late-night escapades. We'll have to keep an eye on them."

Eloise, never one to miss a chance to tease, added, "I think it’s wonderful. We could use more excitement around here. Perhaps next time, I'll join in the fun."

"Absolutely not," Anthony interjected firmly, though his smile betrayed his true feelings. "Two tipsy adventurers are quite enough."

Amidst the laughter and teasing, the lingering embarrassment began to fade. Y/N and Kate, though still feeling the effects of their overindulgence, found themselves relaxing, their initial mortification replaced by a growing sense of comfort. The warmth and acceptance from their family wrapped around them like a cozy blanket, reinforcing the love that bound them all together.

[pearlzier]

⊹ 🩰 ࣪ ✶ ˖

✶ . ࣪ ׅ now playing / pink matter by frank ocean ࣪ ✶ ˖

๋࣭ ⭑ from the inbox . . . | reader thinking that matt doesn't really care about her and his priorities are always elsewhere, and he decided to worship her to make it up to her — @lovesickgrlsrh0t

๋࣭ ⭑ warnings . . . | kinda subby matt, also kinda subby reader, oral (f!receiving), barely angst but sure, riding schlong, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap that willy LMFAOO), p in v

๋࣭ ⭑ author's note . . . | take me shopping i dont care you can take me anywhere see the wind fly through my hair make the people stop n stare 😇 i hope this is. good BYE

you know matt loves you more than anything. it was so obvious in everything he did, how he behaved around you. you love him more than anything, you're sure to make it obnoxiously clear too. he makes your heart flutter, your demeanour happier and just everything better.

so why was that quiet but insistent part of your mind trying to convince you otherwise?

it started when matt was getting consistently more busy with youtube and other influencer-y things that he and his brothers do. you were used to it, yeah, but lately it felt more intrusive and an inconvience to you more than anything. but you never mentioned it, because you never wanted to seem needy, or like that annoying girlfriend who always wants his attention on her. you do, of course, who wouldn't, but not like that.

"m'busy, baby, i can't," he'd tell you, glancing at you for a faint moment before he looked back at his computer or resumed talking with nick and chris. it shouldn't have made you as upset as it did, since it wasn't anywhere near rude or a rejection, but it did make you upset. even a—"maybe later, babe,"—was almost catastrophic, making you feel even worse.

it may seem irrational or an overreaction however you just felt.. ignored. or underappreciated, or whatever you'd call it. like, does he even care about you? insane, you know, but.. you couldn't help but feel like that. what was making you so highstrung?

and matt. oh, matt. as perceptive as ever, knew there was something wrong almost immediately. he stayed quiet about it, trying to test the waters to see whether he was wrong about it however when your reluctance to even be around him became evident, he knew something had happened. he just.. didn't know what. so, he asked chris, first. "i dunno, man, she's just—she's like, avoiding me," chris laughs, almost instantly.

"what the fuck did you do?" he's not really paying attention, considering he knows exactly why you're avoiding matt. you'd talked to him and nick about it. and he vividly remembers you saying you wanted matt to figure out why you were so upset himself; without help.

matt retorts immediately, "i don't know, if i did, i think i'd be fixing it, dumbass." he swallows thickly, feeling uncomfortable with the thought of you not wanting to be around him. he pushes up from the counter, sighing, "thanks for the help." his tone is sarcastic, snarky, as he runs a hand through his hair before heading to the living room where you were with nick.

yeah, you'd resorted to hanging out with nick, when matt was in the house—it wasn't unusual, just.. weird considering how worried he was. it was petty of you, you knew it, but..

"hey," the tension is unsettling, and he hates it. you hate it too. you both hate it. nick's in the middle of it, fiddling with the beads of the bracelet he'd been making with you with a sideways glance at matt as if to tell him that he fucked up, big time. matt knew that, of course he did. you glance up at him, a tiny bit guilty. "nick, you mind if i steal her away for a bit?" he jokes, glancing at you with soft, almost sad puppy dog eyes.

"go ahead," nick mumbles, not exactly wanting to be stuck between couple drama and kind of just wanting to make cute bracelets.

you reluctantly get up, handing the beads back to nick. a dramatic sigh slips past your lips, and you make your way over to matt, looking at him expectantly. he swallows hard, gently grasping at your arm and leading you to his room, closing the door behind him. looking back at you, he finds you standing there with your arms folded over your chest defensively. his heart melts. "baby," he starts.

you glance away, frowning. you weren't mad at him, could never be mad at him, but.. uncertain and worried and all those bad feelings that made your head hurt and stomach ache. "matt," not even a matty? now he's frowning, unsure of how to approach this without making an absolute fool of himself. you had him wrapped so tight around your pretty finger, it was unbelievable.

"you're upset with me," matt mumbles, sounding dejected and upset with himself that he'd done something to upset you. "c'mon, look at me," you won't even look at him, give him the time of day.

kind of like how he made you feel, right? he doesn't know where the thought came from, and maybe it's from how you refuse to look at him, but.. he starts to piece things together. especially when you accidentally look at him despite the whole ignoring thing you have going on. "oh, baby," he says softly, ashamed. he hadn't been looking after you the way he should, right? that's what he's thinking, and he knows he's right.

"mmph," you glance away, focusing your gaze on the ceiling. it's how a child, a particularly petulant one, would react to being neglected in the way matt had done to you. his frown only deepens, hands moving to clasp at your thighs. you flinch at the cold metal of his rings against your warm skin, however you relax moments after. "i'm sorry," he starts, knowing a simple apology won't get you to forgive him. he knows you well, after all. "c'mon, let me.." he says softly, pulling you gently towards the bed. he's careful, not too forceful in case you don't want him to touch you or anything. he's too on edge. you let out a quiet sound as the back of your knees hit the bed, and you plonk down, eyes flickering up to his.

it would seem pathetic to some, desperate to many, the way he drops to his knees infront of you. it even surprises you, and you finally look at him properly. a giggle bubbles from your throat, despite yourself, "what are you doing?" your tone is soft, upset but oozing curiosity. his baby blues meet your eyes, and he swallows hard. "makin' it up to you, ma." he runs his hands over your thighs, chest rising and falling in gentle breaths as he takes you in. all his, right? all his.

matt lets his hand gently slide over your thighs, the exhale he lets out shaky and almost whimpery in nature. "wasn't bein' nice to my girl, was i?" he shakes his head, watching the way you nod slowly, "you weren't," you say matter-of-factly, because he wasn't. matt agrees, a soft hum of acknowledgement slipping past his lips. he feels so bad for ignoring you like that, having his priorities else where even when he was busy with work.

his head dips down to suckle gently at your soft skin, tentatively kissing at it. his blue eyes lift to yours for a moment, as if asking for permission. you nod, swallowing hard. "let me make it up to you," he asks, before he continues, murmuring against your skin, "let me make it up to you. please, baby, wanna make it all better."

how could you say no to that? the sound of him begging?

"okay," you say gently, "if you'll let me rant," he moans softly against your thigh, and he nods gently, mumbling something in affirmation but you can't hear it, nor do you really care, since his touch is a little bit mind fogging. his hands grasp at your thighs, tugging you impossibly closer.

"go on," he says quietly, bringing your legs over his shoulders so he can take care of your soft skin the way he wants to, needs to. but also to hear you take your frustrations out on him, it's the least he can do, isn't it? he sounds so apologetic, it's heart melting. "i dunno, kinda feels like you don't really care about me," you say quietly, a little ashamed for even thinking it. matt lets out a whimpery sound, like it pains him to even hear that.

"no, no, no, baby," matt leaves soft marks on your skin, nibbling gently. he's only careful with you, nothing less than delicate with your body. the open mouthed kisses he leaves make a shiver run down your spine, and you continue, "it's dumb.. but, just.. i feel ignored," oh, not right now. you feel very much attended to. "and like.. i'm not really.. you don't think about me? more about your work?"

matt's hands grasp tightly at your thighs instinctively as he swallows hard, shaking his head, "ma.." it's like he doesn't even think twice as he reaches for your leggings, tugging them down quickly but gently. "lift up f'me," he mumbles quietly, pulling down the leggings with relative ease. they're discarded soon enough, and you flinch a little at the cold air on your legs. "i'm so sorry, god.." he tugs your clothed cunt closer to him with another tug to your legs, leaning in and nuzzling himself against you.

a sharp gasp slips past your lips at the friction and your fingers instantly thread through his dark hair, his groan vibrating against your core at the sensation of you tugging. "ah.." your lips part, a pretty sound escaping you. he relishes in those sounds, adores them, and he starts to coax more when he starts mouthing over your clit through the fabric. the sensation is new to you, but not at all unwarranted. his pretty groans make it even better.

"m'so sorry.." his fingers, as he wets the fabric of your underwear even more, skim over the waistband of the fabric between the two of you. he tugs, once or twice, as if asking for permission. "go on," you say softly, a giggle bubbling from you again when he pulls down your underwear with relative ease and definite eagerness. an awed groan slips past his lips at the sight of your pretty pussy, one of his favourite things in the world. "there she is.." he says softly under his breath. eyes lifting to yours.

"been neglectin' you," he addresses you directly, tone soft, then he looks to your cunt, head tilting gently, "and neglecting her, huh? how bad of me.." matt tuts, shaking his head once more. he brings you close once more, giving a gentle pat to your puffy pussy and watching as you squirm almost instantly. "should make it better for my girls, shouldn't i?" another pat, and he's diving in, letting out a groan against your folds as he kisses and slips his tongue across them.

"she tastes so good, huh? she missed me," matt's words make you cry out softly, taken off guard by how desperate he is to please you. you tighten your grip on his hair a little and even squeeze your thighs around his head a bit more, causing him to groan into your soft, wet skin. "matt, oh, shit," you whimper, and he swirls his tongue around you, shifting lower so his nose bumps against your clit with every movement of his head.

his tongue circles your entrance for a moment before he flicks his tongue into your wet hole, loving the way you practically grind down onto his face. "take what you want, that's it," his words are muffled by your heat, and how you're almost sat on his face, but you get them nonetheless, eyes fluttering down to his own meeting yours. matt's hands slide down to your ass, squeezing and kneading in his hands.

matt's not even focused on himself, no, not at all, his hips grinding into the bed slowly to gain some kind of friction at all. he might end up cumming in his pants, he doesn't care, as long as you feel good and wanted. he never wants you to feel ignored or neglected again. you're his girl, his. "holy fucking shit," he's good with his mouth, like, good. and he knows it, lord does he know it.

the moment your hips start to stutter from his mouth sucking and licking at your pretty pussy, he doesn't let up, only making his movements more intense and pleasurable for you.

"that's it, fuck," he grunts, your thighs squeezing around his head once more. he doesn't even mind it, not at all. in fact, it gets him going, nose bumping against your clit enough to have you whining and squirming against his face, that familiar tight knot of arousal squeezing in your abdomen. matt can feel it too, as he eats you out like his life depends on it, which to him, it really does. "yeah, baby, there we go, that's it, come all over my face, make a mess on me, shit.."

you in fact, do, without any shame in the world. why feel shame when your man was making you feel so fucking amazing? your thighs tremble around his head and he helps you ride out your orgasm, licking slowly to bring you back down to earth without overstimulating you. soon, he pulls back, not even minding the state of well, his face. "did so good for me," he mumbles breathlessly, and you swallow hard. "that.. felt.. oh my god, matthew." a chuckle escapes him at the use of matthew and not just matt, and he gently pushes up off his knees to lay down on the bed on his back. his hands find your hips, slowly bringing you over on top of him.

"matthew, huh?" matt smiles, a gentle, loving smile that tells you exactly how much he cares for and adores you. a little grunt slips past his lips as he tugs his boxers down enough to free his cock, pre cum leaking from it due to how he was basically humping the bed earlier. your eyes flutter over him as you look down at him, swallowing hard, and he murmurs, "so pretty, ma," he gives his cock a few quick strokes, before he lines himself up with your tight hole. "i got you.."

you let out a pitiful little whine when he pulls you down onto him, the stretch making your lips part with soft noises, and matt tilts his head, taking in your form as you squirm. "relax for me.. i've got you.." his eyes flutter over your body, adoringly. his heart swells with warmth, just.. he can't believe he's so lucky. "i'm gonna fuckin'.. explode," you mumble breathlessly.

"i'll pick up the pieces, baby," he leans back against the headboard, hands squeezing at your hips. matt swallows hard, just in awe for a moment. "gorgeous, gorgeous girl. how'd i get so damn lucky?" he lets you adjust to him for a moment, waiting for the greenlight. "you'd be even luckier if you started movin'," ever the graceful, you are, he thinks to himself, and a laugh escapes him again.

"right, right, sorry," a giggle escapes you too, but it soon melts into a moan when he lifts you up, only to drop you back down. his eyes flutter to yours, baby blues dark with sheer want, and he grunts under his breath at how tight you are. "wish i could stay buried in your pussy forever, honey," he guides your movements a few more times till you find a rhythm, however his hands remain on your thighs to hold you up if you get tired.

"mmh, shit, shit, shit," your love for profanity only fuels his adoration for you, his hands squeezing at your thighs as you bounced on his cock, the sounds of skin slapping against skin hitting your ears. he didn't think about how loud the two of you were being and the fact his door was open, no, he wanted to make you feel as loved and wanted as you should. "feels so good, matt, mmh!"

he's doing a very good job at it too.

"that's it, fuck, look so pretty ridin' my dick like that, you like that, mama? yeah.." his eyes follow the way your tits bounce beneath your top, and he pushes up the fabric so he can get a good view of them. no one's ever looked at you with such adoration like that, it's intoxicating. matt greedily gropes at you, squeezing and flicking your nipples just because. and because it makes you clench around him so good. "these pretty titties, fuck."

matt swallows hard, getting lost in you as you get lost in him too, holding onto his hoodie tight as you lift your hips up and down. "never wanna make you feel bad again, never wanna do that. m'so sorry baby, fuck, you forgive me? forgive me, please, ma?" he's practically begging, hands squeezing your body all over, showing how much he loves you. "always got time for my baby, for my girl. even if i don't, gonna make it, promise, fuckin'.. promise," he mumbles, words borderline incoherent.

it makes you smile, it makes you beam, and you're not mad at him. you'd stopped being upset with him since he made you come all over his face, to be totally honest. "it's okay, it's okay," you murmur softly, "i forgive you, okay? i forgive you." matt squeezes your hips once more, bucking his own into you to drive himself deeper inside of you. the way you squeeze around him is intoxicating.

"gonna come, ma, shit," matt whimpers, and you coo softly at his whiny tone, "yeah? go on, come for me," he whines shakily, gripping your thighs tighter and thrusting up into you harder. his chest rises and falls in quick breaths, dark hair falling over his eyes as he lets out soft sounds as pretty as yours. "where d'you want it?" he asks breathlessly, eyes searching yours.

"want it inside," just the sound of your voice saying shit like that has him groaning, hips stuttering as he feels himself reach that peak, ropes of cum painting your walls as he lets go. you find yourself gushing around him around the same time too, a shaky series of moans and whines slipping past your lips. matt takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you and press your body against his. his head soon nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "i love you so much," he breathes out.

"love you too," you murmur in response, relaxing into him. you're happy to stay there for a while.

or go again.

๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor

๋࣭ ⭑ line dividers / @rookthornesartistry

[coldfanbou]

It Wasn't Supposed To Be Like This

New week, new fic, and things don't go well. Beware of cucking

Length 3.4K

IU smut

“Jieun, you're so plain. Why don’t you spice up your relationship? Have some fun with your sex life.” Kang Han-na said as she playfully slapped Jieun.

“I’m not plain; we just like keeping things simple. We don’t need very much.”

“Exactly, don’t you want to be wild? My boyfriend and I have been having a lot of fun. We try all kinds of things: rough sex, bondage, cucking. You name it, and we’re going to try it.”

“Cucking? What’s that?”

“Oh? That one caught your eye?” Han-na says with a smirk; she places her hands on the table, placing her head on top of them as she explains. “Cucking is having some guy fuck you while your partner watches, or vice versa. It was so much fun; I had the time of my life. I had two guys fucking me while he just watched and jerked off. You should totally do it.”

Jieun rubs her legs, anxious about being with someone else. “No, I could never do that to him.” 

“You’re missing out, Jieun. You have to live a little. I can always hook you up with the guys I had; they will make you feel like you never have.” Han-na continues speaking to Jieun about the topic until they go their separate ways. During the entire walk home, Jieun’s mind is filled with images as she sees every scene that Han-na described in her head. She grips her bag a little tighter as she walks.

You sit across from Jieun, eating your dinner as you converse. “Are you sure about this?” You ask, a little unsure about her proposition. “I really don’t feel too comfortable about it.” You tell her, fidgeting in your seat.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just something a friend of mine has been into, and she thought it could be good for us, but I understand where you’re coming from.” Jieun gives you a soft smile, trying to reassure you. You’ve been dating for over two years and know each other well enough. She places her hand on yours, “I’m not going to push you to try it. Honestly, the idea makes me nervous, too.” You know both of you want to explore in the bedroom, but it’s mostly with toys. You don’t want to deny yourselves the chance to try new things. 

“I-I’ll have to think about it more. I just want to be the only one with you.”

“I know; I want to be with you too.” Jieun cups your cheek and leans over the table, giving you a sincere kiss before sitting back in her chair. The two of you finish your dinner and head to bed. The two of you lay in bed, Jieun curled into your chest. Her light breathing is barely audible as she clutches your shirt. You wrap your arms around her, holding her against you tightly as you fall asleep.

The following day, Jieun prepares herself, putting on her earrings as she speaks to you. “I’m going out with Han-na, today. I’ll be home by two.” She yells from the bathroom.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

Jieun kisses you on the cheek and hugs you before she leaves, heading to a cafe to meet her friend. Spotting Han-na from outside, she hurries and sits with her friend. “Han-na! It’s nice to see you. Have you been waiting for a long time?”

“No, I just got here.” The two chat about their recent schedules and workouts before the topic takes a turn. “So, did your boyfriend like the idea?”

“Not really; you have to understand it would be a big step for us. Besides, it’s not something I really want to try either.”

“Oh, but it’s great. It spices your sex life up. My boyfriend and I have been doing it forever. He loves watching me.” Jieun nods her head, a slight frown on her. “I’m sure he would love it too.” The two continue their conversation, with Han-na convincing Jieun to talk to you again.

Jieun returns home just as she said she would. Hearing the TV on in the living room, she throws herself at you, laying her head on your lap. “What’s going on Jieun?”

“I just want to lay here for a bit,” Jieun says, pouting. 

You poke her cheek, “Don’t frown like that. It’s okay.” You tell her, running your hands through her hair. 

“Hey, I’ve been thinking about last night. I want to do it.” 

Your eyes shoot down to Jieun, “You want to?”

“Yeah, Han-na says that they do it all the time and that they’re all the better for it and stronger for it. I think that it’ll be good for us.” 

You're hesitant, scared even. “Jieun, I’m not sure. Han-na is…well, she’s different.”

Jieun sits up, “Just this once. If you don’t feel good after, then that’s it. We never try it again.” Her voice was forceful, and you saw the determination in her eyes.

“I guess. If you want to do it so bad.”

Jieun wraps her arms around you, holding you tightly. “Thanks, honey. I just want you to remember that I love you and only you.”

You felt a pit in your stomach; you didn’t like the idea one bit, but you wanted Jieun to be happy. 

That night, she came to you wearing just a pair of white panties. She covered her chest as she walked toward you, biting her lip and struggling to maintain eye contact.“I want to thank you for letting us explore a little bit.” Jieun straddles your lap. She helps you get your shirt off and kisses you softly. She places your hands on her waist, and you grip her softly, staring into her loving eyes as she kisses you. Her hands rest on your chest as your bulge grows harder between her legs. Jieun smiles as she feels it. Her hips move back and forth; she rubs your cock against her crotch, letting out soft moans and mewing. The moonlight dances across her delicate skin as she shifts her weight. “I love you,” She moans. “Please, take me,” Jieun says, staring into your eyes. 

You roll her over onto her back and pull off her panties. She is clean-shaven, and a blush forms across her face when you glance at her. You smile at her and toss the panties to the side before crawling over her and kissing her neck. Jieun wraps her arms around your head, gently pulling you in to tell you to keep going. You grab your cock, stroking it slowly before pressing it against her cunt. Jieun shuts her eyes and moans as she feels you push in. Her walls are pushed apart as you move in. You continue to nip at her neck, giving her more pleasure as you bury yourself inside her. You wait a moment, staring at her as her eyes flutter open. She gives you a slight nod, and you begin moving. You tell her how much she means to you as you thrust. Jieun smiles back at you, listening to your words carefully as she locks her legs around your waist. She pulls you into a kiss, her lips forming a smile as they’re pressed against yours. “I love you so much.” She says, her legs tightening around you. Your thrusts continue at a slow pace as you enjoy her body. Jieun’s moans slowly rise as she reaches her climax, and her grip over you tightens.

You press your lips against Jieun’s, marking your love for her as you bury yourself inside her and cum. She’s breathless as she feels your warm cum move inside her; a gentle smile forms as she pulls you into a hug. The two of you remain in your embrace for a few minutes. You slowly pull out and lay beside her until you both drift off to sleep. 

The next morning, you and Jieun discuss the ground rules for what would be allowed. When you feel uncomfortable, you remind yourself that Jieun wants to try new things and that maybe you would enjoy it, too. Han-na gives Jieun the phone numbers of a couple of guys, John and Al, and soon, everything is set. She had made the calls nervously but managed to get them to come over.

When the day arrived, Jieun shyly welcomed them into your home, dressed only in her underwear as she led them back into the bedroom. She laid on the bed, bringing them up to it. They disrobed first, presenting her their cocks. She took one in each hand, stroking them slowly; it was the first time she would be with someone else, let alone two people at once.

You were uncomfortable with the situation from the start. Al and John touched Jieun, their hands wandering her body as you sat there. Jieun was focused on them, her moans moving through the room as they stripped her of her underwear. Once she had bared it all to them, they explored her body. John ran his fingers along her stomach; once he reached her cunt he pushed two fingers inside. Jieun squirmed, her legs trapping his hand in place as her lips formed an O. Al pulled on her nipples roughly, making them stretch before letting go. Jieun smiled. She was enjoying all the attention she was getting from them. He was the first to make a move; Al grabbed his cock and stuffed it into her mouth without a care. 

Jieun’s eyes shot open; she looked at him as her lips stretched around his cock, forming a tight seal. Jieun moaned around it, John’s fingers still moving inside her cunt. “That’s it bitch, lick it like you love it,” Al grunted as he held Jieun’s face and thrust over half his length into her mouth. Jieun’s eyes began to water, and she struggled to take it in.

John had enough watching and pulled his fingers out of Jieun, wiping them off on her stomach before moving her onto all fours. She continued to suck on Al’s cock, her tongue moving up and down his shaft as she felt John press his cock against her cunt. “Oh, you’re going to be a tight one,” he says before ramming his entire length inside Jieun. Her scream is muffled; you notice her gripping the bedsheets tightly. John didn’t wait, thrusting quickly into Jieun’s cunt, slapping her ass. Jieun bounces from one cock to the other; John’s thrusts cause her body to lurch forward into Al’s. You watched as Jieun got into it, her senses leaving her. Jieun’s grip slowly loosens; she places her hands on Al’s thighs as she bobs her head as best she can. Her eyes become half-lidded, and her scream soon turns to moans. “Fuck Jieun, you’re so tight.” John groans as he grips her waist, pulling her back into her thrusts.

Jieun was enjoying herself; that much was clear. As the pleasure came in, her body began to loosen. She reached down, cupping Al’s balls as she bobbed her head. “You’re a dirty bitch.” He commented. She glanced up at him before her eyes returned downward. “I’m going to cum, I want you to drink it all.” Jieun nodded her head. As Al’s cock began to throb, he pushed Jieun’s head to the base. She was choking on his cock as he came, her mouth was filled with his semen, and it spilled out of her, running down her chin. Jieun coughs as he pulls out, but her hand reaches up, stroking his cock. She stares into his eyes as she licks her lips. Her eyes were red, and her face was a mess.  

“Can I have some more?” She asks. Those were the first words out of her mouth since this began, and they hurt you. You may have had a hard-on, but you weren’t enjoying this. You felt dejected and stayed quiet as they continued.

Al smiles and grabs Jieun’s hair, pulling her back onto his cock and letting her tongue go to work. John continued his thrusts, each one with increasing speed. “Shit, I’m going to cum. I’m going to do it inside.” John reaches over, rubbing her clit quickly and shocking Jieun with the sudden mass of pleasure.

“Give it to me, cum inside me,” Jieun said, pulling away from Al just to say that. Your mouth drops that was against the rules you had set up together. John doesn’t hesitate, impaling Jieun on his cock and cumming inside her pussy. Jieun’s body shakes, and she cums on his cock. She revels in the feeling of his warm cum inside her; there’s a look of pure bliss on her face. Her tongue slows to a crawl as it moves over Al’s cock. She was lost in a world of pleasure. You saw the dazed look in her eyes as they pulled out of her and switched places. John didn’t need to say a word; Jieun reached for his cock and wrapped her lips around it, bobbing her head and moaning as she felt Al push his cock into her aching pussy. 

They continued for some time, and Jieun begged for Al to cum in her too. Their cum mixed inside her as she continued her blowjob. John decided to dirty her even more, coating her face in his cum and leaving her a tired mess on the bed as they got dressed and left. 

You’re sitting in the corner of the room, feeling absolutely disheartened that Jieun would break the rules you had in place and never want to do this again. “Jieun…” You say, too depressed to even ask your question.

“Come here, I want more,” Jieun says in a tired voice. You look up to see Jieun spreading her folds, revealing the cum-coated cunt. You didn’t want to see her like this. It was a far departure from the woman you knew. 

When you didn’t come to her, Jieun crawled off the bed, staying on her knees as she approached you. She pulled out your cock and began sucking it. Her tongue lapped at it as if she was a hungry beast. Her hand stroked the base of your cock as she looked up at you. There was cum across her face, running down it as worked your cock. You couldn’t hold back, and came in her mouth, feeding her appetite. Jieun pulled away slowly, moving toward the bed and bending herself over it, shaking her ass for you. “Come on, baby. I want your cock.” 

You watch as cum runs down her leg and look at her ass; it’s bright red from John’s slaps. You stand up slowly and get behind Jieun, thrusting slowly and trying to recapture the feelings from the other night. “Harder, give it to me harder,” Jieun says in a depraved voice. Your heart dropped at that moment; she wasn’t the same person. You continue thrusting at your pace, eventually getting Jieun there. She lays on the bed, sleeping there as you head out for a walk. You try to digest everything you saw, believing she couldn’t change like that. You were just blowing things out of proportion.

When you return home, you find Jieun stepping out of the bathroom. “Honey! There you are.” She says, running over to hug you. “That was great, wasn’t it?” She says with a beaming smile. “I can’t wait to do it again.” You give her a half-hearted smile and sit on the couch in the living room. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You let out all your feelings. “I don’t want to do that again. Jieun, it hurt to see you like that, and you broke one of the rules. We said you weren’t going to let them cum inside. I-I just don’t want to do this again.” You say, tears forming in your eyes. Jieun sits next to you silently, patting your back. “This was a mistake; I want it to be just you and me.” She doesn’t say a word, just wrapping her arms around you and patting your back. You continued to explain your feelings on the subject until you exhausted yourself. 

During the night, Jieun thought to herself about what you said. Her thoughts slowly went back to how John and Al handled her; she reached down, fingering herself as she recalled it all. She couldn’t let it be a one-time thing; the temptation lingered in her. The next morning, you woke up on the couch, not feeling comfortable enough to sleep in your bed with Jieun. You wish her well as you head off to work. Jieun sits at home, talking with Han-na. “So, how was it? Did you both enjoy it?”

“It was great Han-na. John and Al did so many things to me. I felt so dirty.” Jieun says, her fingers moving to her slit as she imagines them taking her again. “They were so rough with me.”

“Yeah, they’re like that. What about your boyfriend? Did he enjoy it?”

Jieun pauses, knowing what the truth is. “Y-yeah, he enjoyed it too.”

“That’s great; most couples try it and figure out they can’t do it. It’s super important to respect each other’s feelings with this sort of thing, you know?” 

Jieun nods her head, “Yeah, very important.” A pang of guilt hits her as their conversation continues, and Jieun details what they did.

As days pass, Jieun increasingly thinks about the experience; the temptation is getting to her. You come home, opening the door, and calling out to Jieun. You don’t hear a response, but you hear something that makes your heart drop. Moans were coming from the bedroom. You approach slowly, hoping your mind is playing tricks on you. The door was open just a crack, but it was enough to send your world spiraling. You felt like throwing up as you saw Jieun being taken by John and Al; they were taking her ass and pussy. “Harder! I want more!” Jieun screamed. Her legs were wrapped around Al’s waist as he and John thrust into her. Jieun’s body was covered in sweat and semen; her hair was plastered to her forehead. “I’m cumming!” She moaned, “Fucking cum in me, give me it all.” She cried out. A moment later, she felt her whole body be filled with their cum; Al’s flooded her womb while John’s filled her guts.

You couldn’t control yourself; you started crying again. “How could you!” You yell from the other side of the door, refusing to look at her any longer.

Y+They ignored you. You could hear their moans continue, Jieun pleading for more. You repeat yourself, kicking the door open in frustration. She was still between their bodies, their cock sliding in and out of her. “I needed them. I want to be with them,” She moans before kissing Al. You can’t take it anymore and leave the house. They continued after you left, not caring one bit. You drown yourself in alcohol, knowing you were right; the woman you knew was gone. Your lovely girlfriend turned into a slut at the first sign of attention. You feel like ending it all. At that moment, you see Han-na walking into the bar. You get up and walk toward her, “It’s all your fault!” You yell at her, throwing the glass in your hand to the wall and breaking it. “Jieun and I were perfectly happy until you started spewing your shit about a wild bedroom. Now she’s out fucking other guys just because it felt good. It’s your damn fault!” You grab Han-na, shaking her violently as you vent your anger. Between it all, you begin to cry. You thought you would be with Jieun forever. That you would marry and have a family, but it all slipped between your fingers because you didn’t say anything.

Han-na recognizes the sadness in your eyes and lets you release your anger before taking you outside to a nearby park, where you spill your guts to her. She looks at you with pity, realizing the lies she was told. She ended her friendship with Jieun that day. You moved out soon after refusing to see Jieun any longer as you tried to rebuild your life. Han-na kept tabs on Jieun, watching as the pure girl you knew became a depraved woman. She had begun going out in skimpy clothing and fucking any man she could pick up. Han-na felt disgusted by herself for leading to this situation, and she tried to help you however she could. You couldn’t recover from the loss, though. It ate at you every day.

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Behind Closed Doors 3

Despite your promise not to sneak behind the team again, you find yourself in a compromising position when you’re forced to ride in the same car as him.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Nipple/breast play, dry humping, semi public, dirty talk, and technically this isn’t car sex but everything happens in a car, there’s just no penetration. ~2.5k words (not proofread)

A/n: This wasn’t supposed to be in my WIP but… I blame him for looking so slutty in that shirt. Btw, this is shorter because I already have a lot on my plate but I really wanna squeeze this in, so enjoy! If you’ve been following since the first part, our kinky, slightly exhibitionist duo is back

You liked to think you had a good sense of self control when it came to your sex drive. In your past relationships, you were rarely the one to make the first move. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy sex—far from it, actually—but you didn't see it as the centerpiece of a relationship. Sex was enjoyable, yes, but it wasn’t everything.

At least, that's what you thought until now.

You recently reached a realization that three factors led you to reconsider this long-held belief, and unsurprisingly, they all revolved around Spencer Reid.

The first one was his choice of clothes. It seemed like he had woken up one day and decided that undoing the top buttons of his shirt was the new norm. It was as if he was taunting you, and it was working. The moment you saw him wearing that shirt this morning, all you could think about was dragging him into a storage room and have your dirty, nasty way with him.

The second thing was the way your heart raced when he accidentally brushed his hand against yours as you both reached for the car keys. Emily had asked you both to interview a key witness, and naturally, you assumed you’d be the one driving because Spencer rarely volunteered to take the wheel. But to your surprise, he insisted on driving.

It was strange. You wondered what had prompted this change, but you didn’t protest. In fact, you let him. Happily. Because this set the stage for what became the third significant moment that made you reconsider everything.

Him driving the damn car.

You found yourself unable to keep your eyes off him. The way his hands gripped the wheel, moving with effortless control that hinted at a confidence he rarely displayed. Your gaze traveled up his arm, noting the tension in his muscles, and the way his shirt tightened across his shoulders with each turn.

Then there was his face. Your gaze drifted to his jawline, appreciating the sharp angles and the way it tightened slightly when he was deep in concentration. You had to squeeze your thighs together because watching him drive was enough to make you wet.

It was highly inappropriate, of course. You were both on the job, and there was a witness to interview. So you forced yourself to stay professional. It wasn’t until after you finished, after you and Spencer had informed Emily of what you had found and given her the necessary details over the phone, that your ogling became more prominent on the drive back to the station.

And despite being subtle about it, Spencer seemed to know the effect he had on you.

“Is there something you want to say?” His voice was low, slightly amused, as he spared a quick glance in your direction before focusing back on the road.

You forced yourself to look away from his hands. “What do you mean?”

“You seem… distracted.”

You swallowed, trying to muster up an explanation that wouldn’t give away too much. “Just thinking about the case.”

The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were fighting back a smile. “Really? Because it looked more like you were deep in thought about something else.”

You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks. “Well, maybe the case isn’t the only thing on my mind.”

“Oh? And what else were you thinking about?”

“I don’t know if you’d be interested.”

“Try me.”

You turned your body towards him. “It’s highly inappropriate.”

“Now you’ve really got my attention.”

You hesitated, feeling the car’s warmth envelope you, making the space seem smaller, more intimate. “Okay, but remember, you asked for it,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I was thinking about... how well you handle the steering wheel.”

Spencer laughed, a deep, genuine sound that filled the car. “Is that your way of saying you like my driving, or something more metaphorical?”

“Maybe a bit of both. I mean, a person’s driving does say a lot about them, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” he agreed. “And what does my driving say about me?”

“That you’re good with your hands.”

Spencer’s eyes met yours briefly, and you squeezed your thighs tighter.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said finally, his voice low. There was a brief pause and you wondered whether you had gone too far, whether this wasn’t the right time or place to flirt so openly, but then he spoke again.

“And since we’re sharing, I was thinking about something a bit inappropriate too.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “Like what?”

“Like how it’s hard to focus on the road when you’re looking at me like that.”

“…how am I looking at you?”

He gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Like you want me to pull over to the side of the road and kiss you.”

A silence fell between you, and for a moment, you could hardly breathe. You felt a flush of warmth spread through your body, and you bit your lip, considering his words.

“And what if I do?” You asked softly.

You noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard, clearly fighting to maintain his composure.

“Then I’d have to find a quiet place for us.”

Your body responded immediately, a wave of heat coursing through you as your breath quickened. You could feel your pulse thrumming in your veins, an urgent, needy beat that matched the thoughts racing through your mind.

“Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“Pull over.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his eyes searching yours. Then, without hesitation, he scanned the road for a safe spot. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you watched him steer the car onto a narrow, dark lane shielded by dense shrubs. The path seemed to swallow the sound of the engine as he drove further away from the main road.

The silence that followed was thick as he turned off the engine. You both stared at each other, acutely aware of what you were about to do, about the potential consequences, but everything blurred as you both moved at the same time.

Everything was fast, a rush of motion and emotion as Spencer leaned over the console. His lips met yours with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, while you clung to his arm. He kissed you hungrily, desperately, as if trying to communicate every unspoken word through the press of his mouth against yours. The more he kissed you, the more you felt the heat between your thighs and you realized that, in fact, you really had no control over your sex drive.

You then opened your mouth, letting him sink his tongue into you, pressing your body against his. But he was too far away, and you needed more of his heat, more of him. So, you undid your seat belt and did the only thing that felt natural—you climbed onto his lap.

You both moaned when his cock finally pressed against your core, and he found your lips again, his hand cradling the back of your head while the other rested firmly on your hips, urging you to move. The movement was instinctive, a rhythm that was driven by desperation.

You felt his mouth kisses trail from your lips down to your neck, marking a trail of heat that had you burning for more. Your fingers found the buttons of your shirt, and before you could second guess yourself, you undid them one by one.

Spencer’s hands followed the path you created, tracing the newly exposed skin. His large palms moved along your ribs before they rested just beneath your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hard nipples through the fabric of your bra. You gasped, your head falling back in sheer pleasure.

His lips found your neck again, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin. His fingers pulled down your bra, exposing your breasts, and when he quickly sucked on your sensitive nub without warning, you bucked your hips, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

His sound of pleasure vibrated against your skin when you moved your hips at a steady pace, the friction driving you both to new heights. You could feel the material of your underwear sticking between your wet folds, and you wished desperately that there was no barrier between you. But time was ticking, and you both knew you were on the clock.

This had to be enough.

Spencer pulled back slightly, your nipple stretching with him, your supple skin following his movements until he let go with a soft pop. He then turned his attention to your other breast, his tongue teasingly circling your hardened nipple before hungrily engulfing it in his mouth.

Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, your nails digging in slightly as you arched your back. You felt his hands roaming over your waist, holding you steady, grounding you even as you felt yourself spiraling higher into a state of pure ecstasy.

“Spence,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. His response was to look up at you with those intense, brown eyes as he continued to suck on your nipple.

His mouth moved with deliberate precision, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucks, driving you completely insane. You could feel your control slipping, your body responding to his every touch, and you found yourself unable to think of anything but him. The way he made you feel, the way his touch ignited every nerve in your body.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him on, lost in the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. His lips left your breast, trailing kisses up your chest and neck until he reached your lips, capturing them in a searing kiss that left you breathless.

The taste of him, the feel of his body against yours, was everything you had been longing for.

“More,” you whispered against his lips, your voice a desperate plea.

“I know, I know,” he murmured back. “I got you.”

You shook your head, breathless. “I wanna feel you.”

He groaned. How he wanted that to happen, but you were both gone long enough and reality was beginning to intrude on your stolen moment.

“We can’t, not here,” he said, his voice strained with desire as he rested his forehead against yours. “We don’t have enough time.”

You bit your lip, trying to push back the disappointment. “I know, but I-I need you.”

“Soon,” he promised. “When we have more time, I’ll give you everything you need.”

Your hips moved faster. “Everything?”

He nodded, his eyes fluttering close when he felt you pressing harder on his cock. “Everything.”

“You’ll finally fuck me?”

His breath hitched at your bold words, his control slipping further.

“Say it. Say you’ll fuck me.”

His self-control wavered, the raw desire in your voice pushed him to the edge as his palms gripped your ass.

“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?”

You never thought there would be a time when you’d hear those words from him, and yet here you were, craving for more. You nodded and grinded against him, trying to find that delicious pressure on your clit.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice laced with urgency. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

Spencer groaned, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned in closer. “Then imagine me inside you,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “Think about my cock sliding into you, filling you up completely.”

“F-Fuck,” you gasped, moving against him rhythmically. Who would’ve thought he’d be good at this?

“Imagine my hands gripping your hips, pulling you down onto me,” he continued, his breath warm against your neck. “You’d feel every inch, deep and perfect.”

Your heart pounded as his fantasy played out in your thoughts. “Yes,” you gasped, finding it hard to keep steady. “Please, keep going.”

“I’d set a rhythm that drives you crazy,” he murmured. “Fast, then slow, teasing you, drawing out every moan and gasp until you’re begging me not to stop.”

“Oh God…” you moaned. “Please…”

He continued, relentless and commanding. “And when you’re close, when you’re right on the edge, I’d look into your eyes, whisper how beautiful you are, how good you feel wrapped around me…”

“Spencer, I—”

“And then I’d thrust harder, deeper,” he cut off your words, his tone intense. He pressed a hand against your lower abdomen as if to illustrate his point. “I’d fill you completely, over and over, until all you can do is cling to me and take it.”

You were practically trembling now, his words and slight touches driving you wild.

“I’m so close,” you managed to breathe out, your movements becoming less rhythmic and more desperate. His hands went back to your hips. His grip tightened, steadying and encouraging your frantic movements as he felt his own orgasm nearing.

“Come with me,” he whispered, pressing himself closer to you.

His words, his grip, his presence overwhelmed you. You felt the buildup, almost unbearable, as if every nerve in your body focused on the impending release. Then, with a final, mutual push, you felt the wave break.

Pleasure surged through you, intense and all-consuming. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you down as he drove himself up, his name spilling from your lips in a cry of release. You felt him tense, heard his own cry muffled against your skin, as he reached his climax with you.

Panting, you both slowed, the car filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the soft hum of the engine in the background. Spencer’s hands softened on your hips, caressing now, soothing the spots where his fingers had pressed.

You ran a hand through his thick hair. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a dirty mouth?”

His grin was both sheepish and proud as he met your gaze. “You’re actually the first person to hear it.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his hands carefully adjusting your clothes. “It seems you have a way of bringing out a side of me I didn’t know I had.”

You watched him, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. There was so much you wanted to say, so many feelings swirling inside you, but the words felt too fragile for the moment. Instead, you settled for the silence.

Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He tapped your hip gently, drawing your attention. “Come on, I think we need to drop by the hotel before we go back to the station.”

When he caught the startled look you sent him, he laughed.

“To change my pants. Nothing else.”

“…oh.”

“You sound disappointed.”

You blushed, caught off guard by his remark and your own reaction. “No, I just—” you started, then paused, searching for the right words. “I mean, yes, maybe a little.”

His smile widened, pleased by your response. “I’ll tell you what,” he began. “After we finish this case, after we fly back, let’s spend time together. Just you and me.”

Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling the warmth of him through his shirt. You wondered what it would be like to have him pressed against you with nothing between you, to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat directly under your palms.

The thought made you both nervous and excited at the same time.

“Really?”

He leaned in for a kiss. “Really.”

“You promise?”

He smiled against your lips.

“I promise.”

[hxnbi]

⸻ ღ ❝ WHAT IF I... ❞

you pop the question, asking him, “what if i disappeared one day?" his reaction?

ft. hayato suo, yamato endo, choji tomiyama, umemiya hajime, ren kaji, haruka sakura, kyotaro sugishita, jo togame x gn. reader (separate)

ღ HAYATO SUO ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

He tilts his head to the side. "Whatever do you mean by that?" A brief flash of confusion crossed SUO's face before the ever-present smile of his returned.

"I mean, like, what if I just, from out of nowhere, went poof one day? What would you do?" you clarified with a smile. 

You couldn't quite figure out what was going through his mind as he let out a pensive hum, his index finger rhythmically tapping against his cheek, appearing to be in a deep moment of thought. Granted, you never did know what Suo is thinking about, something appeared to be different this time.

Suo knew that the question you asked was a mere hypothetical, similar to the ones where you'd find on random scenarios online—meant to be a casual inquiry intended to gauge his reaction, so he didn't give it much concern.

"Well then, if that's the case, as your boyfriend." He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "It's only right for me to find you and make sure you’re safe, isn't it?" 

He says it so matter-of-factly with a hefty amount of confidence that undoubtedly makes your heart flutter. There's no hesitation, no doubt in his voice, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. But the outside is indeed never what it appears to be, but also what can be the most deceiving. Suo doesn't worry too much about your question upfront, but there would be times when his mind would wander, drifting back to that single conversation that haunted his thoughts. What implored you to ever ask him that? 

And so, over the next few weeks, Suo would watch you with even more attentiveness than he already did, which was already considerable. Being by your side meant everything to him, and he couldn't imagine life without you if that were to ever ring true. After a few days of thinking, Suo's answer has not changed and will never change, but the realm of possibility that you might disappear will forever linger in his mind.

ღ YAMATO ENDO ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

ENDO, with his piercing, sweatdropping gaze, doesn't even take a minute to look at you, and, instead, at himself. Not in the literal sense, but inwardly. He scrutinizes his every action, every word, trying to decipher what could have prompted such a question from you.

"Disappear?" he asks with a tone of sharp curiosity as he finally meets your nervous gaze. "Is that what you really want?"

Cupping his chin, all with the expression that he's about to beat someone half to death, Endo takes a quiet moment to himself and thinks about your question more thoroughly, which only makes you more anxious, in all honesty. 

With a sheepish laugh, you attempted to steer the conversation to a different subject, but Endo was having none of it. His intense focus was right then and there for you to answer.

Endo sits back down, covering his face with his calloused hand, letting out a low chuckle, "You must be either naive or plain stupid if you ever think that's going to happen on my watch.”

"H-Huh?"

"Because you're never leaving me." Endo’s voice carries utter conviction, a lifelong promise wrapped in a singular statement.

Endo snickers a bit from your seemingly adorable reaction before fading into an expression of distaste. His eyes bore into yours, filled with an emotion you can't quite place. "I don't know what brought this on, but let me make one thing clear. You're not going anywhere. Not without me."

He reaches out, his hand finding yours, gripping it firmly. You can feel the roughness of his skin, the callousness from all his previous fights, the strength in his hold, and it grounds you. A chuckle escapes him as he leans back, the seriousness melting away as a mischievous grin spreads across his face from ear to ear. "Besides, who else is going to put up with your atrocious cooking?"

ღ CHOJI TOMIYAMA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

CHOJI takes a moment to think. "Hmmm, well then. I'll just find you again! Simple and easy! Don’t you think?!”

You laugh alongside him, not having the heart to continue the conversation. But unbeknownst to you, Choji's light-hearted response hides a deeper concern. Choji may act childish, but he's not stupid. He knows that he's not perfect, and in fact, he's a very flawed human being who has done far more harm than he'd ever like to admit, and certainly not to his lover…

Thus, throughout the day, you would be subjected to Choji clinging onto you. Whether you like it or not, he becomes your shadow, sticking to you like glue. As for bathroom breaks? Well, sucks to be you, that's not going to happen without him hovering nearby like a mosquito.

You knew what this meant. Choji's playful manner masks the underlying fear of losing you, and he doesn't let you out of his sight. Whether it's following you to the kitchen or tagging along to every errand, Choji's constant presence lingering over your every move is both endearing and slightly overwhelming. He jokes and laughs, trying to keep the mood light, but you can see the worry in his eyes whenever he thinks you're not looking. It's clear that the thought of being without you is something he can't bear. Just thinking about how his life would be if you left was enough of a nightmare that he decides that possibility would never be considered.

Choji's answer remains constant, but don't let that distract you, his words are only the half of it. He'll never let you go, not on his watch.

ღ HAJIME UMEMIYA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

UMEMIYA is immediately alarmed by your question, pausing right in the midst of caring for his plants to turn to you with a rather distressed frown that deepened with every second. He jumps to grab your arm, perhaps in fear of you leaving right then and there, and asks with a nervous laugh, "Ahah… you're joking, right?” Was this supposed to be some kind of dare from Hiragi or Tsubaki?

And his grip will not loosen until you tell him the details, tenfold. Unlike the usual energetic demeanour he broadcasts to the world, Umemiya doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's worried, scared, with all but the absolute worst scenarios surfacing in his mind. Were you being threatened in some way because of him?

On the surface, he knows that you asked that question in a hypothetical sense, but that doesn't lessen his fear that it could happen, and your bringing it up helped trigger it. His past memories come right back to haunt him again.

And without thinking, Umemiya embraces you in a bone-crushing hug. "I-I don't know what prompted you to say that. Please… Hit me, get mad at me, yell at me, but please, don't ever leave me."

His grip tightens around you, desperation evident in the way he clings to you as if you might vanish at any moment. You can feel the tremor in his hands, the rapid beat of his heart against your ear. It breaks your heart to see him like this, so vulnerable and afraid. You gently stroked his back, whispering soothing words to calm his frayed nerves. Slowly, his breathing steadies, and he relaxes a bit in your arms, but the fear in his eyes still remains. It's clear that the thought of losing you terrifies him more than anything else.

His mind races, no, refuses to accept the thought of you ever disappearing from him. His answer was clear. He was never going to let that happen, not without a reason for closure. And so, Umemiya's efforts to spend more time with you would only be further amplified from there. 

Waking up in the morning? Umemiya would be out your door soon enough with a bed-in-breakfast. Getting groceries? Umemiya will once again be there to be your personal bag-handler and bodyguard. You'd have to reassure him plenty in order to convince him that nobody is out to get you and that you aren’t in danger by any means. But even then, that was not going to work either, oh no. 

As the leader of Furin, Umemiya would make sure that you were protected at all times, sending only the best and closest friends to watch over you and make sure that you were safe. Sakura would snort and mutter under his breath that "that guy is overdoing it," only to receive a stern look from Nirei and a withering glare from Hiragi and especially, if in the presence of the man himself, Umemiya.

How on earth could you tell him by that point that it was all a joke…?

ღ REN KAJI ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

Admittedly, KAJI does not think much of it as he continues to listen to his music with your head resting comfortably on his lap. What do you mean you're just going to leave? Without him? Impossible. 

He hums before going back to indulging his lollipop, which, by all means, was his solace. But later on, Kaji's mind drifts back to the question you asked. His eyebrows fold into two thinly knitted lines as he processes what could ever be your reasoning for asking such a thing. Not even the most relaxing of music could calm his mind as he begins to overthink every little detail of your relationship, replaying every conversation, every moment you've shared, searching for clues or hints he might have missed that made you want to think that.

The thought of you leaving gnaws at him—a rather unsettling and even unfamiliar feeling that he can't shake off no matter how hard he tries. Kaji debates with himself whether to bring it up with you again or let it slide, not wanting to seem insecure but also desperate for reassurance and that what he heard wasn't actually true.

His heart races with each passing thought, and he finds himself pacing back and forth while outside your homeschool, trying to make sense of his swirling emotions. That is, until you ask him with a confused frown what he was doing.

He doesn't wait for a response but instead pulls you straight into his arms. Kaji grabs both your shoulders and apologizes. He stares right into your wide eyes, and he finally confesses, "If you disappeared… then I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

Kaji gulps in the air like someone who's drowned. He hardly even knew what to do with himself, just pondering the answer about a mere possibility. If that ever came to fruition, he'd be utterly lost. Though he guards his heart carefully, he's unrestrained with his body, whether for comfort or for pleasure.

He holds you firmly. Implacably. He will hold you all night if needs must, and throughout the day. His grip shifts to a tight hug as if trying to squeeze out all the sadness with his strong arms. "So please, don't."

With a heartfelt sigh, the tightness in your shoulders relaxed and you caressed his back with a gentle hand, all while comforting with your voice—the same voice Kaji grew to love with all his heart.

ღ HARUKA SAKURA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

Rolls his eyes. "What do you mean you're just going to disappear?" SAKURA clicks his tongue. "As if that's ever going to happen."

But in reality, despite his outward words, Sakura is far more concerned than he initially lets on. His composure can only stretch so far until he loses it. Quite literally. He may put on a brave face, but the thought of you vanishing haunts him. He starts by subtly interrogating your friends, your family, and anyone who might know something. His questions are cloaked in casual conversation—well, as casual as Sakura thinks—but the urgency in his eyes betrays his true feelings.

He becomes much more protective from then on, always by your side, watching you with a worried gaze that he often tries to mask. But you, in fact, do notice the change, the way Sakura hovers a little closer to you when he's, without exception, extremely volatile to physical touch, his touches lingering a little longer, and his blatant need for confirmation that you're not going to leave. 

Until, one day, out of nowhere, Sakura answered the question. "If you leave… then I won't stop until I find you. That's it," he muttered in a voice so low that you could hardly believe it, your eyes widening in surprise.

"Haru, could you say that again?" you asked, voice trembling with emotion.

“Huh?”

“Just now, could you repeat it?”

Sakura grumbled, scrunching his flushed crimson face into a grimace. "Y-You idiot!! I already said it!!!"

"But I want to hear it again…" you pouted, feigning sadness, making Sakura blush even further, his ears a deep crimson.

"Tch… I'm just telling you, if you disappear one day, I'm just going to find you, and I'll keep trying until I do."

ღ KYOTARO SUGISHITA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

SUGISHITA is eerily silent. Usually, that wouldn't be as much cause for concern, but there was something different in Sugishita's expression that unnerved you. Disappearing? That was a joke, right? No… you probably meant something else. You did mention that you planned to go out to buy groceries later that week. Could it be because of that? Or perhaps…

Sugishita, in his inward panic, grabs your arm with a grip tight enough to completely cut off the blood circulation to the rest of your body. "You're… going to leave? How? …When? W-Why?"

You could see that Sugishita was becoming increasingly anxious, his mind seeming to be practically in another dimension. With a pat on his head, you reassure him that you meant it all as a hypothetical question and that you aren't going to leave by any means. But the damage had been done. Sugishita, being the worrywart, needed far more confirmation than just that.

And just like Choji, for the next few days, Sugishita would be watching your moves like a hawk, standing at your side, towering over you. His eyes follow your every move. His piercing eyes staring into your soul felt almost suffocating, but it was clear that he couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even for a single moment.

Umemiya, with his usual bravado, burst out into laughter as he claps Sugishita's flushed cheeks repeatedly, reassuring him once more that it was nothing but a mere misunderstanding and a curiosity for his answer on his part. Hiragi agreed, nodding his head along.

Nonsense, Sugishita thinks with a wry face. He will be the one to ensure your safety, replaced by a type of intensity that makes you feel, while protected, also slightly on edge with the burning stare that he insists on maintaining to keep watch, even when you shoo him away.

You knew that his actions came from a place of love from when you initially asked him that question, but even so, did you really need him to stand outside your classroom door…?

ღ JO TOGAME ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

Your words would kick his mind into gear almost instantaneously. TOGAME's thoughts raced, his aloof demeanour spinning around in circles like a pertueral carousel as he considered the possibility. Togame eventually came to the harrowing conclusion that he wasn't enough for you, that you felt neglected, or worse, unhappy being with him. 

He stared at you, his eyes wide. "What do you mean by 'disappear'?" he asked, his voice trembling a bit despite his efforts to keep it steady.

Just the mere thought of that made his stomach churn and his chest tighten. He couldn't bear the idea of losing you, even if through the lens of a mere hypothetical question. Togame, usually so stoic and composed, felt his facade crumble before your very eyes. Regardless, he was still intent on proving his worth and winning you back, all in the name of rectifying whatever he had failed to do.

You could see the pure, unfiltered, raw emotion in his eyes, the sheer terror of losing you. "Oh no, Jo, I didn't mean it seriously! I was just curious," you said In hopes of smoothing him, but the worry etched on his face didn't fade.

"...it's not something I can just ignore," he said, voice growing firmer. "If you ever feel that way, if you ever think about leaving, please, talk to me first and we can communicate… Let me fix whatever is wrong.l, whatever it is. Because the thought of you not being in my life is unbearable…" He reached out, taking your hands in his shaky ones. “You want to know my answer? I would search for you everywhere, and do anything to bring you back. You mean far too much to me to just let you go…”

His vulnerability was laid bare, even to your own surprise, who didn't expect this from a mere question. Togame would do anything to prove his love to you, to ensure that you never felt the need to ask such a question again. And in that, he certainly succeeded, because you would never doubt his devotion to you again, not that you did to begin with, but knew that it was a slippery slope and a topic to avoid when with him.

But, for good measure, after that conversation fiasco, Togame had taken up a new hobby. And you were more than happy until you realized what that "hobby" of his entailed, as friends or practically anybody who was an unfortunate passerby, would immediately notice a bodyguard-like figure constantly by your side. That is, until they saw the brute clinging onto you like a man desperate for even a whiff of your attention.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[kenntolog]

“kento! c’mere for a moment, please!” your head pops from the bedroom as you smile at him, a little bit too excited, which makes him wonder what’s up. of course, he nods and puts his book away to stand up and walk over to you.

he watches you fiddle with a baby pink satin ribbon and scissors, cutting a lengthy piece of it before turning to face with a giddy smile.

you step closer, looking up at him coyly, the pleasant lilt of your voice filling his ears, “can you help me with this, baby?”

“what do i have to do?” he asks, hands already moving to take the ribbon from your hands, assuming you need him to do something with it, but you pull it away quickly, your smile turning a little mischievous.

“just stand there and look pretty, kento, that’s all i need.”

his brows raise at that yet he doesn’t interfere, a little more intrigued now.

the ribbon is not as lengthy as nanami thought it would be — he realises it only when you start wrapping, well, more like trying to wrap it around the expanse of his shoulders and back. he watches in amusement how you huff and puff, struggling to get it right, and he caves his shoulders in a little more.

finally, a minute of his sore limbs feeling even worse later, you’re able to tie a small bow right in the middle of his chest. admiring your work with a small ‘yay!’, you step away and sit down on the bed while nanami continues standing in front of you, still very much uncomfortable and waiting for some kind of command from you.

“so? was this all you wanted, m?”

“‘course not, kento! i need you to stand straight now.”

his brow raises once again, but he complies, straightening his back and shoulders as the ribbon rips off with a small pop. he carefully watches the way your eyes widen, glistening with something he can only decipher as fascination and excitement. you giggle giddily and clap for him a few times, making him chuckle as he sits down by your side.

“are you bored, my darling?”

“heh, kentoo~” you whine with a smile, arms wrapping around him as you position yourself on his lap swiftly. “jus’ wanted to admire you a lil’ bit.”

he can’t help the corners of his lips from tugging up in a small smile, just like he can’t stop himself from turning you over onto the bed and hovering over you on his forearms to admire you too.

[captainreecejames]

Can't Have a Good Thing || LS2 smau

summary you go from dating an american footballer to an american driver

pairings ex!christian pulisic x reader, logan sargeant x reader

warnings probably a little anti pulisic but i still love my baby

notes pictures are from pinterest so thank you to all those lovely users (as I wrote this my english teacher from 11th grade came into my job and it was not fun!)

May 2023 ynusername posted -------

liked by cmpulisic, reece and others

ynusername final chelsea game of the season, love you guys

chelseafc awww we love you too yn ❤️ by author

cmpulisic always love having you there ↳ ynusername wouldn't want to be anywhere else

username1 look at my girl dawg, chelsea is embarrassing her ↳ username2 please, christian didn't even play

reece once a blue always a blue ↳ username3 NAH WHY IS THIS SO CRYPTIC ↳ username4 you can't say shit like this then leave DUDE

username5 that chrisyn interaction screams for help ↳ username6 i wouldn't be surprised if they're not dating anymore but trying to keep up appearances ↳ username7 breakup statement incoming ↳ username8 can we get fabrizio to comment on wag breakups please!! ↳ username7 lol can you imagine a here we go! breakup is official! peak comedy

cesarazpilicueta 💙 ↳ ynusername love you too capitan!

July 2023 real life ---------

It’s been a rough few months in the house for the two of you. Christian’s time at Chelsea was most likely coming to an end, and you had just started a new project at work, so your time was filled with that. Nights spent making dinner and laughing together turned to plates left in the microwave and lights out early. Mornings started with short wake up kisses to hardly whispered goodbyes.

In fewer words, the relationship was falling apart. You barely knew what was going on in each others lives anymore, it’s no surprise when he tells you he’s leaving Chelsea.

Chris is still in Florida with his family, enjoying the last few days off before preseason. You had been with him for the 4th of July, but needed to fly back to London almost immediately for a new project and you’re exhausted. When he Facetimes you it’s almost 11:30 at night and your still sitting in your home office, but with how excited Chris is, he can’t tell that you’re operating on extremely low levels of energy. You want to be excited for him, but you can see the writing on the wall.

“Hey babe.” You know what’s coming, but it doesn’t make the shock any less. “I’ve got some big news.” He waits for you to say something, but all you do is blink and nod. “AC Milan are going to sign me.” He waits again for you to say something. “Did you hear me? I’m leaving Chelsea.”

“Yeah, I heard you.” Your lack of enthusiasm confuses Christian.

“Then why aren’t you excited?”

Your apathy turns to frustration quickly and you shift in the chair. “Because, Christian, I’m not just going to blow up my life in London to follow you to a new city. I’ve got a job here and it’s going well. I don’t want to have to start all over again. Not to mention learning a whole new language. Have you considered how isolating that would be for me?”

“So what, I just rot at Chelsea because you don’t want to move?” He is now just as defensive as you, words biting at the holes that have formed in your relationship, making them grow.

“I didn’t say that!” You sit up even straighter, putting your phone down against the computer so it stands on it’s own.

“Well it sounds like you don’t want to leave.”

“I don’t want to pack up my life and move to a new country where I don’t know anyone.”

You could see the fight leave his body as he came to the same realization you did. “What’s going to happen to us?”

“I think we’re done Chris.” You can feel your heart break that last little bit with the words you say. You love Christian, but with everything you’ve gone through, it’s not enough.

twitter ---------

September 2023 real life ------

In one hand you held your phone, looking down at the details of your train back to London, in the other a hot chocolate to warm you up in the brisk wind of Oxford. It’s how you missed the body in front of you and ended up falling straight on your ass because of it, hot chocolate splashing onto your shirt.

“Fucking hell,” you whispered, pulling your shirt away from your body so it didn’t burn.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” said an American accent. You groaned in your head, not wanting to deal with this. “I should’ve been looking where I was going.” They put a hand in your face, gesturing to help you up, which you took. 

“No, it was my fault, I was staring at my phone,” you told them as they pulled you up. He was strong, and also probably a little awkward as he was still holding your hand.

“Me too, so I really won’t let you take the blame.” His awkward smile was also cute, but you tried not to think that, it wouldn’t agree with your ‘no boys agenda.’ “Do you need another hot chocolate?” The cup was empty at your feet, making you wince. 

“Yeah, probably another shirt too.” It’s at that point that he realizes he’s still holding your hand, and he drops it.

“Let me get you one.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You’re still very early for the train, but travel anxiety is terrible and you want to leave soon.

“I insist.” Something about his smile and red cheeks makes you say yes to him, and you’re really not sure why. “I’m Logan, by the way.” He’s leading you back into the line of the cafe, smiling at you still.

“I’m YN,” you tell him.

ynusername posted ---------

liked by logansargeant, benchilwell, and others

ynusername exploring oxford finally

bsfinstagram babe you run into any quidditch players ↳ ynusername bitch you know i'm swearing off athletes

username7 damn why are you so beautiful

samkerr 💞 ↳ ynusername ugh bestie i love you

pulisick10 'SWEARING OFF ATHLETES?' Christian mate pulisic what did you do!?! ↳ username8 that is so fucking harsh though like pulisic really did a number on our girl here ↳ pulisick10 ben chilwell still in the likes tho ↳ username8 nah her and ben are friends, like ben was always close with christian and just cause he left doesn't mean that she can't be friends still ↳ username8 also she's still good friends with the women's team ↳ pulisick10 well that's cause the women are better ❤️ by ynusername and bsfinstagram ↳ username8 NOT HER LIKING THAT but also won't argue with that

logansargeant at least the weather was good ↳ ynusername youre right, thank you english sun who comes out once in a blue moon ↳ bsfinstagram I'm questioning things ↳ ynusername well you shouldn't

username11 she's sworn off athletes but has a formula 1 driver in her comments... ↳ username12 fake bitch ↳ username13 two people can be friends right? ↳ username12 she breaks up with christian because of the distance but is talking a driver like he isn't gone more than half the year, she's definitely fake for that ↳ username13 how do you know that's why they broke up ↳ username14 she doesn't she's just being a hater ❤️ by ynusername ↳ username11 damn all this fighting on my comment thread?

username12 not yn liking so many comments, do you read them ↳ ynusername gotta appreciate a good laugh ↳ username13 yn stalks her comments like a real one should

twitter ---------

yn's messages -----------

November 2023 yn's messages ------------

real life --------

Your hotel room is kind of a mess, with clothes thrown around and various pieces of paper on the floor. It’s not really a surprise to Logan, even though he hasn’t known you very long.

After a long day exploring New York City in fairly okay weather, the two of you are relaxing in your hotel room before dinner. “Can I ask you something?” Logan asks. He’s currently sitting in the desk chair, feet propped up on the desk and head hung back. 

“Go ahead.” You’re on your bed, laying like a starfish.

“Would you say yes to going on a date with me?” You sit up straight, staring at him with wide eyes as he doesn’t move.

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“No, I’m asking if you’d say yes to me asking you on a date.” His clarification makes you narrow your eyes, but he still doesn’t move. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

That gets him moving, turning the chair to look at you. “So would you say yes or no?”

“I’d say no right now.”

“What about in a month?”

“In a month, when we’re both back in England, I’d probably say yes.”

“Cool,” he shrugs, going back to putting his feet on the desk. “Then I’ll ask you again in January.”

ynusername posted ---------

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon and others

ynusername look who came to visit

lilymhe booooo bring me next time ↳ ynusername you're welcome whenever, he invited himself ↳ logansargeant literally not true you asked me to come ↳ ynusername stop lying! i wanted thanksgiving but you have this job that makes you fly across the world to drive a stupid car or something

oscarpiastri look at him jumping for joy for you ↳ ynusername yeah well, what can i say, I'm a dream come true

bsfinstagram ahhhh just under 2 weeks until you come home!! ↳ ynusername I missed you so much ↳ bsfinstagram debrief over wine incoming!

username18 nope she is definitely dating this driver ↳ username19 it's so weird cause like if she really broke up with christian because of distance then isn't this just so much worse ↳ username20 i don't think they broke up just because of distance, things were probably weird for a couple of months before hand cause she wasn't going to as many mens games, she was definitely going to the women's games though.

timothyweah did you get a hotdog from the hotdog guy? ↳ ynusername yes... why? ↳ timothyweah cause they're good and i just want to make sure that you did ↳ ynusername okay timmy

chelseafcw don't stay too long we miss you ↳ ynusername aww, i miss you guys too

May 2024 ynusername posted--------

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

ynusername Miami you can be pretty but you're on my shit list

landonorris no whyyyyy ↳ ynusername idk might have something to do with my boyfriend dnfing at his home race. ↳ landonorris oh, okay ↳ ynusername but i guess congrats on your win ↳ landonorris thanks ynnnnn! ↳ oscarpiastri someone is still drunk

logansargeant ohhh he's handsome ↳ ynusername yeah and he's got a jealous ass girlfriend so beware ↳ logansargeant love you too babe

username23 finally confirmed that they're dating only seven months later

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hii could you please do one with sunshine!reader and Spencer first kiss?? Hope you're having a nice day🫶

“Please Spencer?” Your eyes bat in his direction, lip hanging in a pout as you sit on his sofa. Spencer thinks he should be stronger against your tactics. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this affected by a faux sad face and puppy eyes. 

He also doesn’t think he could resist another ‘please.’ 

You’re trying to convince Spencer that it’s too late to drive home. It’s been raining all day and the rain doesn’t plan to be stopping if the blue hue to the hour is any indication.

More than anything you’re worried the slick roads will cause Spencer’s SUV to slide and crash and then he’d be in the hospital. It’s your brain’s special little talent- anxiety induced overthinking that somehow always leads to hospitals. 

Spencer doesn’t know all that, but he’s finding it increasingly hard to say no to your puppy dog eyes. He’s always thought Hotch and Morgan were exaggerating the pull of puppy dog eyes but when you do it, your eyes go all wide and innocent and Spencer can’t say no to it. He doesn’t want to either. 

He lays right back down on your sofa, sighing to hide his grin when you squeal and cosy up to him. 

You’ve both been alternating between reading your books and napping all day, your fluffy duvet over both your laps and your pillows make the sofa even cosier than you’d ever found it. 

“You’re like a trickster spirit.” Spencer sighs, your head laid on his shoulder as you pick up your book again. 

“I’m not, you just,” you trail off, looking up at Spencer through your lashes. Something about him from this angle has your thoughts trailing off. All you can see are his lips, how his eyes are a little more hazel than brown in this light and how incredibly soft his hair looks. 

You reach a hand and card it through his hair, watching Spencer watch you as you do it. 

“I just what?” He licks his lips and you groan. Spencer smiles. 

“I want a kiss.” You say suddenly, smiling shyly when Spencer’s eyes go wide. 

“You do?” You should’ve guessed he’d have teased you like this. Spencer’s hand sneaks under your arms, pulling you into him so you’re straddling his lap. You gasp when his hands knead at your hips. 

“Mhm, please?” You tilt your head to the side, blinking at Spencer slowly as you wait. 

Your breath hitches when he leans in suddenly, nose bumping along yours as your lips just barely touch.

Your heart is racing and you’re sure Spencer can tell and that’s why he’s intent on teasing you; running his nose along yours, leaning in and then pulling back before your lips connect. 

“Spencer,” you huff and he chuckles, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Please.” 

You don’t mean to sound bad as desperate as you do- like you’ll run out of air if Spencer doesn’t kiss you right this second but it works. 

Instantly, Spencer’s lips are on yours. His hand moves from your chin to your cheek, your lips parting as Spencer’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip. 

You make a sound between a gasp and a moan that makes Spencer’s stomach heat. You lean into his kiss, your hands gripping his hair harder as the kiss turns from tender to desperate. 

“Slow down, sweetheart.” Spencer rasps as he pulls away, a smile on his face as he catches your eyes shut tight as you catch your breath. 

“That was nice.” you breathe, twirling a finger around a curl in Spencer’s hair. 

He laughs, body shaking against yours. “Just nice?”

“I need another kiss to make a better determination.” Spencer doesn’t hesitate.

[propertyofwicked]

STARE - LN

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - smut! MDNI!! unprotected, praising, sorta soft!dom, co-workers to lovers??? not proof read

masterlist the playlist

the energy of the mclaren garage was palpable, with engineers and mechanics scurrying around, ensuring everything was perfect for race day. y/n had been working with mclaren for a couple of years now, her role integral to the smooth running of race weekends. but today, something was different.

in honouring the master of monaco, ayrton senna, the two drivers had been given race suits that showed tribute. yellow and green suits that screamed heritage, elegance, and - in y/n’s opinion - undeniable charisma. both drivers looked good, they always did, but every time y/n caught a glimpse of lando, time seemed to slow. he looked every bit the part, embodying the spirit of senna effortlessly.

she couldn’t help but stare, her eyes seemingly glued to his form as he interacted with the team, each glance lingering a little too long. maybe he caught her a few times, heat rising her cheeks every time she quickly averted her eyes. maybe he hadn’t even noticed her, though had she not been so eager to hide her face, she would’ve seen the way he smirked to himself.

lando felt smug.

the race was typical for monaco, aside from the first-lap crash. oscar finishing P2 was significant for the team and for him, marking his best finish of the season so far. after the chequered flag waved and the celebrations began, y/n tried to busy herself with post-race duties, wrapping up some paperwork in hospitality whilst the rest of the team fulfilled media duties and packing away equipment.

or at least she tried. the room seemed to be filled with tv screens, all displaying lando’s post race interviews, hand on his hip, sweaty curls and a boyish grin. y/n was distracted, trying to avoid looking at the screens for too long, but she couldn’t help but let her mind wander at the sight of his black fireproofs clinging tightly to his frame - she was just a girl, after all.

“so,” lando began, smirking as his eyes sparkled with mischief, “you think i look good in the senna suit, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat, and her whole body jumped, not expecting lando to be stood directly behind her, his hands resting on the back of her chair.

“what? no! i-i mean, yes, but –” she stammered, “paperwork,” she added, unable to form any sort of coherent sentence. he chuckled teasingly, though his smirk grew more smug as he noticed her cheeks going red and her hand shooting up to play with her necklace.

“i saw you looking at me. a lot. couldn’t help but notice.”

“i wasn’t – i mean, i was just –” y/n stuttered, trying to regain some composure as he leant down, using the chair to support him as his head dropped to rest closer to hers. she refused to make eye contact.

“it’s okay, you know. i’m flattered,” he muttered, glancing around to ensure no one was in earshot before continuing, “but if you keep looking at me like that, i might start to think you’re more interested in what’s under the suit.”

“lando, i...” she choked out, finally turning her head to face him. he was grinning, his mouth curling into that cocky, confident grin that she had seen too many times - but this time it was directed at her, and y/n was enthralled.

“how about we discuss this further in my driver’s room? less chance of interruptions,” lando told her, his tone leaving no room for an argument, though it wasn’t as if she was going to refuse. his eyes flicked around the room once more, before grabbing her wrist to tug her along behind him. once inside the room, he closed the door behind them, the small space suddenly feeling much more intimate.

“so,” he said again, turning to face y/n, “you think i look good, huh?”

“yes, i do. very good,” she told him, suddenly deciding to put on a brave face. his smirk softened into a genuine smile.

“good to know. because i think you look pretty good too,” lando replied, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “especially in that skirt you wore a few weeks ago.”

she looked at him puzzled for a moment, she knew exactly which skirt he meant, but how did he? how had he noticed her enough to remember what she was wearing?

“how did yo-”

“at least when i stare at you, i don’t make it obvious angel,” lando grinned, before dropping his head to press a kiss to her lips quickly, almost hesitantly at first. she kissed him back quickly, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hand moved to cup her jaw, the other settling on her waist. his hand pushed her head back, allowing him better access as he deepened the kiss, all whilst moving the two of them towards the sofa.

“it wasn’t that obvious,” she retorted in defence, pulling away from his lips quickly to catch her breath.

“it was,” lando replied, shifting the two of them so that he fell comfortably on the sofa, her landing on his lap, “even oscar noticed.”

“shut up?” she replied, tucking her face into his neck to hide her embarrassment, but trailing kisses down his skin.

“make me?” he replied, matching her tone as she nipped at his skin lightly, “good thing i’ve finished media for the day, isn’t it?”

“sorry - i didn’t mean t-” she started, pulling back to look at the red mark forming on his neck, but found herself interrupted by the shake of his head.

“i’d say do it again, but we have…20 minutes until everyone needs to leave,” lando told her reassuringly, his fingers gripping at her hips as his fingers rubbed harsh circles into her skin. her grips rolled into his, as if instinctually, whilst he moved back to kiss her, harsher than before.

“as much as you like this suit, it’s about time i take it off - don’t you think?” he asked, watching as she nodded quickly, her hands moving to the zipper. her hips rose momentarily to help him strip down, a pile of his clothes forming on the floor next to the two until he was left in just his boxers, her in equally as little clothing.

“lace?” lando asked, smiling up at her, his fingers trailing the hem of her underwear teasingly, “id ask if this was for me but there’s no way you could’ve seen this coming.”

“no, id say you were right,” she shrugged, her hand moving to grip his cock through the fabric, “i like to come prepared.”

“and ‘come you will,” he joked, which she couldn’t help but smile at despite the intimacy.

lando pushed a rugged finger past her panties, moving the fabric aside as two fingers slid through her folds, circling her clit a few times. he looked at her face, watching how she reacted to him. her mouth had opened slightly, already feeling pleasure from the anticipation, but it widened as the two fingers pushed into her, stretching her out around him. her hand was still working up and down his clothed length, thumb finding his tip as his precum leaked through the fabric of his boxers.

“did you say 20 minutes?” y/n suddenly asked him, her eyes widening at the realisation.

“i did,” he nodded, stuttering slightly as her hand pulled at his waistband.

“have we got time?”

“from the way you’re working yourself on my fingers, id say we have time to finish this, get dressed and be back at mine with 5 minutes to spare,” he exaggerated slightly, though continued twisting his fingers into her, engulfed in the way she rolled her hips into him as her walls tightened around him.

though lando didn’t give her time to get embarrassed about how quickly she was coming undone for him, before his fingers moved away from her. she whined slowly at the loss of contact, but lando ignored her, moving to take his fingers in his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

“so good,” he muttered. he grabbed her face harshly, kissing her again so that y/n could taste herself, his hips lifting from the sofa to free himself completely. her hand resumed it’s ministrations, thumb resuming a circling motion on his tip. lando found himself distracted the moment her fingers dragged precum down his cock, following the patterns of veins that spread across his length.

“fuck,” he mumbled, the two of them trying to stay quiet as footsteps could be heard from outside his door, “need you now.”

y/n raised herself up on her knees quickly, lando’s hand on her waist guiding her towards him. his free hand gripped at the base of his cock, tracing it through her folds quickly and lining up with her entrance. the hand on her waist pushed her down slowly, helping to lower herself on him.

“big,” she whined, unable to form a full sentence, her head dropping to rest on lando’s shoulder as she sunk down further.

“thanks,” he laughed out, though the action made his body move causing y/n to slip, taking the rest of his length in all at once.

“fuck,” y/n mewled, nipping at the flesh of lando’s shoulder quickly to distract her from the stretch.

“you’re fine, you’re ok,” he reassured her, his voice soft despite him fighting the urge to thrust up into her.

she nodded into him quickly as her hips began to roll into him, feeling the way his length filled her. small grunts and incoherent mumbles from lando urged her to move more, so she raised her hips slowly before dropping back down over and over again until she settled on a good pace. lando’s fingers dug into her hip, barely guiding her movement whilst his fingers left bruises in his wake.

“wanna see you,” he told her, a hand pushing her shoulder back to look at her face. the new position awoke something in her, the angle sending her into overdrive as she used him to get herself off.

“and these…” lando added, moving to grip her breast in one hand, neck straining to take the other in his mouth.

“fuck, lan- fuck,” y/n uttered, feeling the way his tongue flicked at her nipple quickly before moving to nip and suck at the surrounding flesh. her chest was littered in red marks, sure to form into a constellation of bruises that would adorn her skin for weeks.

“taking me so good baby,” he told her, feeling the slowing of her pace with her legs growing tired, “you need me to help?”

she looked at him intently, before nodding. lando’s eyelids were half closed, but she could still see the way his pupils were blown with lust - he groaned deeply as she came to a stop, returning to rolling her hips into him instead.

“need to hear you say it,” lando insisted, his fingers trailing circular patterns up her thighs before settling on her clit. he felt her tense around him, the rolling of her hips coating his length in her slick as shoots of icy pleasure seemed to move directly from his fingertips to her brain.

“please, lando.”

“please what? what do you need, baby?” he teased, his own hips beginning to slowly jut up into her.

“need you t-to take over,” y/n stammered, gripping at lando’s shoulders tightly, “please.”

as much as he wanted to hear her beg, the way she had whimpered the word please was enough for him to pull her into a tight embrace, her legs anchoring around his back before he started thrusting himself into her at a brutal pace. oh how she prayed no one was stood nearby at this very moment, as all they would hear was the distant sound of skin slapping against each other, slightly muffled by the two of them panting.

“so responsive,” lando praised her, slowing slightly to sneak a hand between the two of them, fingers finding her clit once more, “fit me so well. like you were made f’me,” he grunted.

y/n’s mind had gone blank as lando mindlessly praised her, he himself unable to think about anything else.

“you gonna cum f’me?” he cooed, feeling the way she began to claw at his back, raking her nails into his skin and she grinded her hips into him, matching his pace.

“mhm,” she muttered out, her lips returning to his in a heat kiss - the type of kiss that overall had too much tongue and too much teeth but fit the haste of the moment so perfectly.

“go on then,” he prompted, “show me how good i make you feel.”

y/n didn’t respond verbally, she couldn’t. no, instead she came hard and fast, letting lando grip at her hips to hold her down harshly so that his length stayed deep inside of her.

“fuck me,” she panted out, though tried to keep the rolling motions of her hips to bring lando to his own finish.

“so good to me,” he grunted, taking in the sight in front of him, “you feel so good,” he added, barely able to utter another word before he was pulling her off him, ropes of cum shooting onto his stomach as she hovered over him.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she told him after a few moments of silence with lando catching his breath, “im on the pill anyway.”

“i didn’t think,” he told her, laughing lightly as she clambered off his lap, searching for her clothes, “now i know for next time.”

“next time?”

“yes, next time,” he doubled down, “trust me, ive wanted this for months. and now i’ve had you, i don’t think i want anyone else.”

heat rose to her cheeks again - she’d hoped this wasn’t a one time thing, but she was now blushing at the thought of it being a regular occurrence.

“tonight?” she asked him, cautiously.

“eager?” he teased.

“sorry i-” y/n started to apologise, stuttering slightly in her nervousness.

“y/n - tonight, tomorrow night, next week. my schedule is clear, for you.”