#'hey those hands look weird'
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It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:
Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.
Guard 1: What weird guy?
Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?
Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?
Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.
Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.
Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.
Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?
Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.
Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.
Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?
Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.
Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?
Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?
Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.
Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.
Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.
Librarian: How long has he been coming here?
Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.
Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.
Guard 2: Wait, really?
Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.
Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?
Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.
Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?
Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!
Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?
Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.
Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!
Archivist: Also he's really old.
Guard 1: Old as balls.
Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.
Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.
Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.
Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.
Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?
Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.
Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.
Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?
Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.
Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?
Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.
Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?
Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!
Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!
Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.
Guard 1: Why not?
Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?
Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!
Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.
Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.
Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!
Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.
Archivist: You're not a baby.
Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!
Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.
Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?
Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?
Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?
Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.
Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?
Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.
Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.
Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.
Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?
Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.
Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?
Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.
Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.
Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?
Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.
Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!
Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?
Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?
Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-
Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?
Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?
Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!
Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)
Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?
Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.
Librarian: Oh.
Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.
Librarian: Oh.
Guard 1: Fuck yeah!
#fun fact: the Khuzdul name Tharkûn means 'staff-man'#so the Dwarves also call him 'the stick guy'#on the naming of things#sufficiently verbose prose#that's what I'm Tolkien about
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Writing Intimacy
i often see writers sharing a sentiment of struggling with writing kiss scenes which honestly bleeds into other portrayals of physical intimacy. i see it a lot in modernized styles of writing popularized by the recent trend in publishing to encourage short, choppy sentences and few adverbs, even less descriptive language. this makes intimacy come across awkward, like someone writing a script or clumsy recounting of events rather than a beautiful paragraph of human connection.
or just plane horniness. but hey, horny doesn't have to be mutually exclusive with poetic or sensual.
shallow example: they kissed desperately, tongues swirling and she moaned. it made her feel warm inside.
in depth example: she reached for the other woman slowly and with a small measure of uncertainty. the moment her fingers brushed the sharp, soft jaw of her companion, eliza's hesitance slid away. the first kiss was gentle when she finally closed the distance between them. she pressed her lips lightly to gabriella's in silent exploration. a tender question. gabriella answered by meeting her kiss with a firmer one of her own. eliza felt the woman's fingers curling into her umber hair, fingernails scraping along her scalp. everything inside eliza relaxed and the nervousness uncoiled from her gut. a warm buzz of energy sunk through her flesh down to the very core of her soul. this was right. this was always where she needed to be.
the first complaint i see regards discomfort in writing a kiss, feeling like one is intruding on the characters. the only way to get around this is to practice. anything that makes you uncomfortable in writing is something you should explore. writing is at its best when we are pushing the envelope of our own comfort zones. if it feels cringy, if it feels too intimate, too weird, too intrusive, good. do it anyway! try different styles, practice it, think about which parts of it make you balk the most and then explore that, dissect it and dive into getting comfortable with the portrayal of human connection.
of course the biggest part comes to not knowing what to say other than "they kissed" or, of course, the tried and true "their lips crashed and their tongues battled for dominance" 😐. so this is my best advice: think beyond the mouth. okay, we know their mouths are mashing. but what are their hands doing? are they touching one another's hair? are they scratching or gripping desperately at one another? are they gliding their hands along each other's body or are they wrapping their arms tightly to hold each other close? do they sigh? do they groan? do they relax? do they tense? are they comfortable with each other or giddy and uncertain? is it a relief, or is it bringing more questions? is it building tension or finally breaking it?
get descriptive with the emotions. how is it making the main character/pov holder feel? how are they carrying those emotions in their body? how do they feel the desire in their body? desire is not just felt below the belt. it's in the gut, it's in the chest, it's in the flushing of cheeks, the chills beneath the skin, the goosebumps over the surface of the flesh. everyone has different pleasure zones. a kiss might not always lead desire for overtly sexual touches. a kiss might lead to the desire for an embrace. a kiss might lead to the impulse to bite or lick at other areas. a kiss could awaken desire to be caressed or caress the neck, the shoulder, the back, the arms etc. describe that desire, show those impulses of pleasure and affection.
of course there is the tactile. what does the love interest taste like? what do they smell like? how do they kiss? rough and greedy? slow and sensual? explorative and hesitant? expertly or clumsily? how does it feel to be kissed by them? how does it feel to kiss them?
i.e. examine who these individuals are, what their motives and feelings are within that moment, who they are together, what it looks like when these two individuals come together. a kiss is not about the mouth. it's about opening the door to vulnerability and desire in one's entire body and soul.
#writing help#writing tips#writing advice#how to write#on writing#fanfic advice#writing#creative writing#writing process#roleplay advice#rp advice#rp tips#*shrugs* twitter discourse brought me here
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Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.
thank you and happy new year <3
*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)
The Three of Us
pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader
summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.
word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)
warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff
A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3
Part 2: After the Games
The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.
Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.
Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."
The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"
The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"
"Class 946, sir!"
Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."
Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.
"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."
Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."
Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.
"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."
All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.
<>
"Time for team selection is up."
You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.
"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."
Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"
You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.
His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"
You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."
You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.
Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."
390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"
You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?
388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."
You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.
390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."
Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"
You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."
390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."
As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.
"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."
You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."
388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."
Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.
You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.
"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.
With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."
Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.
Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."
You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.
"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."
You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.
"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."
"Victory at all costs!"
<>
The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.
The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.
The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.
The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.
Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.
"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"
A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.
Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.
"Old hag! What are you doi-"
Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.
You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.
"Rotten bitch!"
All five pieces end up in her hand.
"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.
044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.
A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.
"Oh shit," you say under your breath.
Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.
Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.
Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.
It's done! They did it!
The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.
The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.
As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."
You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.
"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"
"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."
390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"
The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.
When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.
You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.
As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"
"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.
388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.
390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."
Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.
He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.
"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"
As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."
You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.
As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"
Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.
"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."
You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.
"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"
You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.
001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.
Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.
Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.
456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."
001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.
You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.
456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.
One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...
You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.
"Pass."
You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.
As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.
The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.
"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."
You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.
As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."
"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.
001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"
You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."
Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.
"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."
Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."
"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."
Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."
"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.
Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."
"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"
You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."
"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."
You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."
001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."
You nod. "Okay."
"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"
"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.
"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.
A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.
You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.
"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"
"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.
"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."
You smile and nod in thanks.
"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.
"Victory at all costs."
<>
You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.
Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"
You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.
With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."
"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.
"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.
He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."
"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."
Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."
"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."
Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"
Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."
The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"
"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."
There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."
You shake your head. "No, that's okay."
"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."
You thank him as you take the milk.
Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."
You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.
"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.
Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.
<>
"Pass it to me."
The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.
"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."
"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.
"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"
"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."
"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."
Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."
Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.
"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."
The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.
<>
After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.
He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"
You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.
"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"
You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."
Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.
"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"
You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."
Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.
"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."
"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."
"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.
"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"
Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.
"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.
The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."
You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"
He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."
You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."
He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."
"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."
"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."
You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."
He smiles at you. "Goodnight."
You smile back. "Goodnight."
For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.
<>
You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.
"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.
You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"
Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.
"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."
"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."
"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."
Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.
"Victory at all costs."
<>
"Let the game begin."
The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.
"Ten."
Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.
Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"
"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.
"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.
A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"
Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"
The two groups go running off towards a door.
"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.
"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.
"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"
"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.
You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.
Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.
Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"
"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.
"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.
You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.
Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.
Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.
"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."
"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."
Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"
You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."
Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"
"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.
After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"
Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."
You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.
The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.
Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.
"Now, the final round will begin."
The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.
"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.
"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.
"Why?"
"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."
"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.
You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."
The platform stops and the lighting dims.
"Two."
Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.
You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.
Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.
The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.
"Can I do something really stupid?"
Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"
You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.
For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.
You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.
"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."
You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.
The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.
Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.
Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck
Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!
#dae ho#squid game x reader#daeho#dae-ho#kang dae ho#dae ho x reader#kang daeho x reader#kang daeho#player 388#x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game 2 spoilers#squid game 2#squid game
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RAFE CAMERON ⟢ not for the money
x FEM!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST
SUMMARY: you are scared that rafe thinks you’re only in the relationship for his money
WORD COUNT: 833
GENRE: fluff
CONTENT WARNING: soft!rafe cameron
the scent of saltwater and pine carried through the open balcony door of rafe cameron’s bedroom, where you perched, fidgeting with the hem of your sundress. it had been a week since you overheard them—the cruel whispers in the back of the country club that claimed you were only with Rafe for his money.
“she’s so lucky,” one girl had sneered. “he pays for everything. i wouldn’t lift a finger either if i had a guy like that.”
“she’s totally using him,” one said, her tone dripping with disdain. “i mean, look at her. rafe’s always paying for everything.”
“right?” the other chimed in. “hair, nails, those dinners? she’s just in it for the money.”
another had laughed. “she just loves the chanel.”
the words striked you like a blow. was that really how people saw you? you’d never thought of yourself as someone who’d take advantage of him, but now, doubt crept in, wrapping around your chest like a vise.
their words kept echoeing in your head as rafe entered the room, his usual confident swagger softened by the adoration in his eyes. he set a bag from your favorite boutique on the dresser—a clear sign that he’d picked up yet another surprise for you.
“hey, sweet girl,” he said, crossing the room to kiss your temple. “i got you something.”
your chest tightened, guilt swarming you.
“baby,” you started, forcing a smile as you turned to face him. “you didn’t have to—”
“i wanted to,” he interrupted, his brows knitting together. “what’s mine is yours, sweet girl. you know that.”
you hesitated, the nagging doubts pulling at your resolve. if the people at the club thought you were a gold digger, you couldn’t stand the idea of him believing it too.
so, that’s when you decided: no more gifts, no more dates entirely on his dime. you were going to prove that you loved him for him.
the next week, your new approach to things began to show.
at your usual dinner spot, when the waiter brought the check, you quickly grabbed it before rafe could.
“what are you doing?” Rafe asked, blinking at you in confusion.
“splitting it,” you said firmly, pulling out your card.
“splitting?” He looked at you like you’d spoken a foreign language. “babe, no, put that away.”
“rafe,” you insisted, your tone leaving no room for argument. “i’m paying for my half.”
he frowned, but he let you do it. that frown deepened over the next few days as he noticed more changes: no more nail or hair appointments showing up on his credit card statement, no impromptu shopping trips with bags of chanel or prada waiting at your apartment.
by the time your next date rolled around, he’d had enough.
“okay,” he said, sliding into the booth across from you at the diner. “spill.”
“spill what?” you asked innocently, focusing intently on your menu.
“don’t play coy, sweet girl. i know you. you’ve been acting weird all week. no more letting me pay, no more gifts—what’s going on?”
you sighed, setting the menu down. “i just… i overheard some people at the club. they think i’m using you just for your money. and i don’t want you to ever think that too.”
his expression softened instantly, and he reached across the table, taking your hand in his.
“baby,” he murmured, his voice low and full of affection. “that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard.”
you looked at him, surprised by his reaction. “rafe—”
“no, listen to me,” he said firmly. “i don’t care what those people say. they don’t know you. i know you. you’ve been there for me when no one else has. you’ve stuck around through my worst. you think i’m dumb enough to think it’s about the money?”
you blinked, his words sinking in.
“i buy you things because i can and want to,” he continued. “because you deserve the world, and i want to give it to you. not because i think you need it, or because i think it’s the only way to keep you around. got it?”
tears pricked at your eyes, and you nodded. “i just… i didn’t want you to feel like i was taking advantage of you.”
he chuckled softly, standing up to slide into the booth beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“sweet girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. don’t let some jealous nobodies make you think otherwise.”
you leaned into him, a small smile creeping onto your face.
“okay,” you whispered.
“good,” he said, pulling out his card as the waiter approached. “now let me pay for dinner, and stop being weird.”
you laughed, swatting at his chest. “fine, rafe. you win.”
and as you sat there, wrapped in his arms, you finally let yourself believe it—rafe cameron loved you for you as you loved rafe cameron for rafe cameron.
and that was more valuable than anything money could buy.
#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey#outerbanks rafe
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oh my god do not click links in emails that tell you to verify your data or your bank account gets locked or click links in messages telling you your safety protocol is ending, like, tomorrow, you will get SCAMMED SO BAD AND YOU WILL LOSE A LOT OF FUCKING MONEY never ever let anyone pressure you into giving away login information especially to your online banking by creating a sense of urgency oh my GOD
some things to look out for
1. spelling mistakes. do you know how many rounds of marketing and sales experts these things go through? if theres a spelling mistake dont click it
2. not using your name. if an email adresses you with "dear customer" or, even worse, a generic "ladies and gentlemen", it is most likely not actually targeted to you
3. verifying or login links. even IF your bank was stupid enough to send these to customers, dont EVER click those. look at me. they can legally argue that youve given your data away and thus they dont have to pay you anything back DONT CLICK THAT FUCKING LINK
4. creating a sense of urgency. do this or we lock your account next week. do this or your ebanking stops working tomorrow. give us all your money in cash or your beloved granddaughter will get HANGED FOR MURDERING BABIES. no serious organisation would ever do something like that over email or sms. ever. hands off.
5. ALWAYS CHECK WHO SENT YOU THE EMAIL. the display name and the email adress can vary a LOT. anyone can check the display name. look at the email adress. does it look weird? call the fucking place it says its from. you will likely hear a very weary sigh.
6. if its in a phonecall, scammers love preventing you from hanging up or talking to other people to have a little bit of a think about whats happening. there should always be a possibility to go hey i wanna think about this ill call back the official number thanks.
7. do not, i repeat, do NOT a) call a phone number flashing on your screen promising to rid your computer of viruses after clicking a dodgy link and b) let them install shit on your computer like. uh. idk. teamviewer.
7.i. TEAM VIEWER LETS PEOPLE USE YOUR COMPUTER HOWEVER THEY WANT AS LONG AS THEYRE CONNECTED. IF YOU DONT KNOW FOR FUCKING SURE YOURE TALKING TO ACTUAL TECH SUPPORT DONT GIVE ANYONE ACCESS TO YOUR COMPUTER.
fun little addendum: did you know a link can just automatically download shit? like. a virus? an app you can't uninstall unless you reset your entire device? dont click links unless youre extremely sure you know where they lead. hover your mouse over it and check the url.
thanks.
#'oh i was so stressed in the moment' thats what theyre counting on PLEASE dont do this you will lose so much money#sometimes money you dont even have#do you know how much overdraft your bank account comes with?#sometimes the answer is 15k fucking euros
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DDA: dorm displays of affection
Being a famous idol means PDA is out of the question, but not dorm displays. Alternatively, ways the enha boys show you’re theirs while in the dorms with their other members 🤭
1.5k words, idol!enha x gf!reader, this is fem reader, about 200 words a piece… no warnings i think, flufff, some are more general than others, im sorry 😔
Heeseung
Always has you sat on his lap.
Literally does not matter where you are or what you’re doing, you are not allowed next to him
Even if it’s a movie night and EVERY SINGLE member is there so you think ‘surely I can sit by myself this time, it’d be so weird for us to be cuddled up like that in front of everyone’
WRONG 🚨🚨
As soon as you sit down next to him, he looks at you like you’ve lost your mind
The pout comes out
“What are you doing?” 🥺
Genuinely looks so confused that you’re sitting anywhere else
“Hee, all the boys are here.”
Looks at you like ‘and since when do I gaf??’
Grabs your waist with one hand and pulls you into his lap himself 🤭
None of the boys bat a single eye
“Everyone knows this is where you belong baby” he says, kissing your temple and wrapping his arms around your midsection
Ignores you literally combusting
Jay
The definition of princess treatment
You can literally just turn your brain off when you’re around Jay
You haven’t touched a single door since the two of you started dating
He opens the car door, the door to the dorm, even his bedroom door
( he has your location turned on so he gets a notification when you’re close and can be there to open the door for you as soon as you arrive at their dorm)
One of the first times he took you out, you opened the door for yourself and he slid across the car hood to close it again and re open it before you had time to get out 🙄
(He looked really silly but you tell him it was cool)
Pulls your chair out even when you’re just eating dinner with the guys
Cue the boys exchanging looks and whip cracking motions 🤪
If you’re walking best bet he’s on the outside of the sidewalk and his hand is on your lower back, guiding you
You didn’t realize how much you stopped thinking around him until once when he was guiding you through the hall and he literally had to stop you from running into Sunghoon
It’s not your fault, you’re just a girl 🎀
Jake
NICKNAMES GALORE
The boys actually didn’t know your name for like a solid six months bc he NEVER said it
“My girlfriend is coming over” he’d announce
“Your girlfriend that is…?”
“Pretty?” He has no idea what they’re talking about
As soon as you get there all they hear out of his mouth are ‘pretty girl’ and ‘sweet angel’
Like hello you have a name 🤨
“C’mere pretty girl” as soon as you open the door
“What do you think, princess?” He asks your input as the boys decide what to watch
😵💫😵💫 sike, you don’t even need a name, he can call you whatever he likes
The boys like to tease him when they need you two for something
“Yes Jake, can you and your pookie wookie bear please join us in the kitchen for a moment?”
“Hey Jake, does your schnookums like cream in her coffee?”
He really doesn’t call you those, but anything out of his mouth might as well be to the guys
“Yes my beautiful girlfriend who is an angel on earth does like cream thank you very much. Lots of it.”
He does not care at all, he thinks you’re the sweetest thing ever and deserve to be reminded of it every time he talks to you
Sunghoon
Bro CANNOT FOCUS when you’re around it’s actually so bad
The boys have probably seen you guys kiss like twice but the amount of times they’ve had to smack him upside the head bc he’s zoned out staring at you???
♾️
He has the biggest heart eyes, if it was possible to love you anymore he’d probably actually develop heart shaped retinas
“Hoon? Hoon?” Heeseung calls his name four times before following his line of sight and seeing you filling a glass of water
“You’re so embarrassing.”
The boys approach you with anything they have to tell him because the only way he snaps out of it is if someone else joins you
He’ll be in space for 20 minutes but the second one of the guys walks up to you he’s right there
“Why are you talking to my girlfriend?”
(Yes I’m thinking about that fansign where he said no to everything 🤫)
The managers were gonna let you come to filming one time but the boys said ABSOLUTELY NOT
Hoon could not be in a five mile radius of you without getting dating rumors he was down so bad
Sunoo
This man loves you so bad he does not care who sees
Greets you at the door with a bone crushing hug and kisses all over your face
(The boys make faces at each other while they listen to his loud ‘mwah’s from the living room)
You flush when you walk in and realize they all heard it, but Sunoo pays them no mind, leading you by the hand to where he has a bouquet of flowers and your favorite coffee on the table
He’ll take you into the living room where the rest of the guys are playing games just so he can sit there with his arm around you while you enjoy your drink
Even when he gets into a fight with Sunghoon and starts yelling with his hands they’re still attached to you
One time he accidentally poked you in the eye while gesturing and he felt so bad he almost cried
Kissed it to make it better only to have the guys start throwing pillows at him for being “gross in the communal area”
“Fine, I’ll go kiss my girlfriend in peace!”
Now you’re a blushing mess that they all know 🫠
“Don’t be embarrassed baby, they’re just mad I have the prettiest girlfriend ever”
Jungwon
He takes care of you SO BAD
The boys teased him the first time they saw him stop to tie your shoes for you, but never again
Will be cooking the most delicious smelling thing in the world and smack the boys hands when they try to steal it
“This is for yn” 😠
Braids your hair, zips your jacket, honestly just fawns over you like a grandma 😭
“It’s cold out. You should bring a jacket!”
“But wonnnn, I don’t want to” you’d whine but does he care?
NO
His baby is not getting sick on his watch
Not only does he pick your jacket, but he also puts it on for you, zips it up, and puts on a matching hat
Imagine the boys reaction when the two of you go out one night and won comes back barefoot 😭
But your heels hurt and he wasn’t about to have that ‼️ so he gave you his shoes and carried your heels the rest of the way home
(The same heels that he insisted on clasping for you while you sat at his vanity)
‘Down astronomically bad’ Jay would cough as won leads you back to his room
Jungwon just thinks you should never have to do anything yourself 🤷♀️
“You just sit there and look pretty, I’ll get it” 🫣
Riki
Is quite literally always hanging off of you
Nonchalant my booty, when he’s in the comfort of his own home with the people who know him best… his facade goes down the drain
If you’re standing up at all— washing dishes, doing your hair, even standing in the living room having a conversation with one of his members
Without him??? I think not 🤨
Literally drapes himself across your back, hanging his arms over your shoulders and dropping his chin on top of your head
“Hi ki!” You chirp, turning around to see him staring, arms still locked around you
“Why are you doing that?” He asks
He doesn’t want you doing ANYTHING in his dorm.
Why are you even doing dishes? That’s his hyung’s job. Doing your hair??? For who? You will not be seen by anyone for the next 1-3 business days if it’s up to him
And if you’re talking to one of the members 🙄
He won’t say anything, but if you’ve kept talking for more than 2 minutes after he’s showed up, he’ll pinch your side and shoot daggers at whoever you’re talking to until the two of you give up
“No need to get moody, I’ll give you your girlfriend back,” Jake rolls his eyes
That’s what he was waiting for ‼️
Throws you over his shoulder and takes you right back to his room where you will never be heard from again!! (Until dinner time)
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen headcanons#enhypen reactions#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fluff#heeseung scenarios#jay scenarios#sunghoon x reader#jake scenarios#sunoo scenarios#jungwon scenarios#riki scenarios#niki x reader#sunghoon scenarios#heeseung x reader#jay x reader#jake x reader#sunoo x reader#riki x reader
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I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"
But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.
Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!
I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.
Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.
Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)
And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.
You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.
So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?
My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.
(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)
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A second look at the human fucker community on monster tumblr
🧜♀️ Hermaid Follow
After a while you start to notice some trends in how people talk about fucking their hoomans
Vampires: This is Brother Reginald Regicus Regicum who I slowly corrupted and tempted with earthly desires across several long years until he became a creature of the night like myself. We're throwing his one year vampirization party in a month, here's the invite, if you don't come it's a personal insult, to me.
Orcs: This is Himby the Himbo who I snagged in some raid I did because I got bored on my way to the grocery store. It's funny when I make him wear cat ears.
🐻 Beard-Toucher Follow
Demons: These are Sir Good and Sir Goody. I make them wear matching collars because of how they were all but boyfriends before I enthralled them with my dark magic. You noticed their matching collars right?
Werewolves: You'll never believe this, but my human Stucky, who used to be called Lady Stuck Up, was actually a repressed and stuck up person before I helped her embrace her wild side TM.
🐍 Scaled-Scales-Scaling-Scales Follow
Naga: ...Anyway after spending 400,000 years praying I finally met the human who is the love of my life and we recited mantras together, after 200,000,000 years of this we began to *blushes* hold hands and then the gods...
Other kinds of dragons: This is King Dragonslayer the Unfucked. I use him as a display stand for my jewels when not fucking him.
(164,597 Notes)
🐙 WetterThanYou Follow
Showing the humans parts of their world they've never seen (the depths).
(9,846 Notes)
🐎 Seventaur-deactivated20230527 Follow
Man humans really are such pathetic creatures
🐎 Seventaur-deactivated20230527 Follow
Stop reblogging this as a human fucker post! I advocate for exterminating those pests! It's literally in my bio! Human Fuckers DNI!
👿PazuzuOfficial✅ Follow
Hey OP we need to 'talk' IRL. Don't bother turning on your location, I already know it.
(369 Notes)
🐺 HereWolf Follow
Seeing elves in human fucker communities is always such a "bro thinks he's on the team" moment. Oh yeah you're so different from humans with your pointy ears and... oh right that's literally it.
🛣️Elf-Hater Follow
Elves are like humans but lame and pretentious, even lame and pretentious humans are better. Eying a 'human' only to notice pointy ears is like biting into a blueberry muffin thinking it's a chocolate muffin, if blueberries tasted like shit.
🧝Elfeven Follow
🥺
🪓Orcasionally-Really-Cranky Follow
If it makes you feel better I fuck both humans and elves, just got back from a raid where I scored plenty of elves to make into my obedient little whores.
🧝Elfeven Follow
That doesn't make me feel better.
(685,734 Notes)
🦅Feathery Follow
Finally going to an actual human town. What do human eggs look like? Don't want to cause any problems by mistake.
🦋 Gregory-Grigori Follow
People on this webbed site will really just say anything about hoomans huh?
🐂 No-Yournotaur Follow
OP, humans don't lay eggs. It's weird that you thought they did. They're mammals.
🦅Feathery Follow
I thought they were like platypi no need to get up my ass about this
🐂 No-Yournotaur Follow
Okay you know what fair.
(5,873 Notes)
🦋 Gregory-Grigori Follow
I'd say good morning, but I didn't wake up with a beautiful human on each side of me so actually it was yet another mid morning.
(4,384 Notes)
Click here for part 1 and here for part 3 and here for the Christmas special
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just practice part 2
part 1!
pairings! bsf!jj x reader
in which! you cant stop thinking about the night you lost your virginity to jj…. even though you have a boyfriend
warnings! 18+ smut. cheating. fingering. oral sex (m. recieving) pnv sex. unprotected sex. not proof read.
it had been two months since you lost your virginity to jj and almost a month and a half since you started officially dating your new boyfriend.
he was nice. he took you out to eat once a week, he bought you small gifts, he complimented you and you never argued. but the sex was just…bad. it was always over way too quickly and he never payed any attention to your body or what you wanted. you figured he was just one of those boys who was too scared to go down on a girl, which was fine, but it probably wouldn’t suit you in the long run.
you hadn’t been hanging around your friends very often, usually turning them down to go out with your boyfriend and jj was getting increasingly frustrated with this.
but every time you were around your friends, jj in particular, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. when you talked to him, all you thought about was the way he called you baby when he came on your stomach and the way he made you cum on his face. you felt so completely guilty for these thoughts, but nothing would stop them. you figured the best plan of action was to avoid him. not entirely, but just try not to be around him alone.
but, you did end up alone with jj by mistake one afternoon.
you had just finished surfing with kie as the swell had come in that day. you both planned to stay at the beach a little longer, but you were hungry and didn’t have any food. kie decided to go pick up something from the heyward’s shop and you went back to the chateau to grab a six pack, only to find jj working on his bike, his shirt off and his shorts dirty, probably from engine oil.
you didn’t say anything as you walked up the steps to the porch, but jj noticed you and called out.
“hey, y/n!” he yelled, wiping his hands off on a towel and throwing it on his bike. “thought you were gonna stay at the shore until later?”
you were in your damp bikini top and bottoms and a pair of sandals. you turned around at the sound of his voice and met his gaze.
“yeah..” you said. awkwardly. “i am, i was just grabbing some beers.” you turn back around, pulling open the screen door and stepping inside. once you’re in the kitchen with the refrigerator door cracked, you hear jj come into the château after you.
“what’s going on with you?” he asks, standing in the living room. you shut the refrigerator and look over at him with furrowed brows.
“what do you mean?” you question, although you knew exactly what he meant. you didn’t expect the confrontation to happen now of all times.
“don’t act like you don’t know.” he crosses his arms over his chest. “you’ve been weird around me ever since we..”
you didn’t want to hear him say it.
“jj, i’ve just been hanging around my boyfriend a lot,” you try to defend yourself, hoping he’ll stop questioning you. “i’m sorry i haven’t been talking to you. ‘been busy.”
he nods, biting his lip and looking down at the floor.
“do you regret it?” he asks, looking back up at you.
“what?” you shake your head. “no, i just-“
“you promised you wouldn’t make things weird between us and now you barely even talk to me.” jj said. “you sure i didn’t do something wrong?”
“no jj!” your voice raised slightly. “i-“ you cut yourself off, not knowing what to say. “it’s just that every time i try and talk to you, i think about what we did.” you blurt out, almost making it sound like you both murdered someone and hid the body. you made it sound like a crime, and it pogue rules, it technically was. “i thought that avoiding you was gonna take my mind off it until i got over it.”
he walks closer to the kitchen, tossing his hat somewhere on the counter.
“so you do regret it?” he questions, leaning against the counter and looking straight at you.
you shake your head no.
“i don’t, but it’s kind of wrong of me to think about you while my boyfriend’s fucking me.”
you realized what you said after it had already left your mouth and your eyes widened.
“what’d you say?” he asks, cocking his head a little at your admission, a barely visible smile playing on his lips.
“uh-“
you quickly turn around to open the fridge again, looking for some beers to take and get the hell up out of there.
“no, say it again.” jj pulls your arm, twisting you back around to face him so that your bodies were dangerously close together. your face flushed with embarrassment and your heart was thumping out of your chest.
“jj,” you say, shrugging off his touch. “i really gotta go back to the shore.” you say, but you weren’t moving. jj knew that wasn’t what you really wanted.
“i’m not stopping you.” he pulled back from you and leaned against the counter once again, showing that you had free will to leave, but you still didn’t budge. your feet were glued in place.
you wanted to kiss him so bad and get that ridiculous smile off his lips, but the thought of your boyfriend who did little to please you was the only thing that was keeping you from doing it. you bit the inside of your cheek, nervously. the tension between you two was going to make your head explode.
“he doesn’t fuck you like i do, does he?”
his words were your final straw.
you grabbed both sides of his face and instantly connected you lips with his. he kissed you back without a second thought, wrapping his arms around your waist. he backed you into the refrigerator as his lips moved perfectly with yours.
his fingers trailed down your hips and to your clothed core. he pulled away from the kiss to look at you, silently asking for permission for him to touch you, and you gave it.
still having you against the refrigerator’s surface, he skillfully moved your bikini bottoms to the side as two of his fingers sunk into your entrance. you were embarrassingly soaked already. you fight back a moan as he pulled out of you, just to slide right back in, hitting the spot he knew you needed.
“all this and i’ve barely even touched you?” he mocked, taking his fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth. he looked you in the eyes as he sucked your slickness from his fingers. your lips were parted as you watched, desperately needing his hands on you again.
he then picked you up, his hands hooked under your thighs. you giggled as he carried you to the bedroom, kicking the door closed.
he gently placed you on the bed and reconnected his lips with yours, his tongue swiping yours. you reached to work on his belt, swiftly undoing it and pulling it off while never breaking the kiss. you slid his shorts down, his boxers barely hiding his desperation for you.
you palm him through the fabric, eliciting a groan from him against your lips that you needed to hear more of.
you sunk to your knees in front of him, yanking his boxers down and allowing his painfully hard cock to spring free. you took him in your hand, pumping a few times before your tongue poked through your lips to lick a long stripe from the base of his shaft to the tip.
he gently grabbed your hair, trying to pull you away, but you licked him again, which loosened his grip.
“you don’t have to-“ his eyes rolled back as you finally took him all in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked his cock. your hands were placed on his knees. the moan you heard from him encouraged you to keep going, although his tip was hitting the back of your throat and you were trying hard not to gag. “fuck- baby, you don’t have to do this.”
you pull him from your mouth, a string of spit connecting your lips with his tip.
“i want to.” you say before taking him in your mouth again. he tries to keep his eyes locked with yours, but his head falls back in pleasure, his fingers lacing into your hair.
you only knew how to do this because your boyfriend showed you. you had to keep your eyes closed the whole time so you could pretend it was jj.
his breathing was getting heavier with each rise and fall of his chest as soft moans and strings of curses fell from his lips. he couldn’t help but thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock farther into your mouth. there were tears brimming your eyes as you tried to focus on pleasuring him.
“fuck- m’not gonna last much longer like this.” he said.
you kept going, desperately wanting to bring him over the edge, but he pulled your hair back, taking you off of him.
“gotta stop you, princess.” he grabbed your hands and helped you up from your knees. you sat on the bed, pouting. he stood over you, brushing your hair out of your face and noticing your change of attitude. “didn’t wanna cum like that.”
as much as you wished you could make him cum by sucking him off, you couldn’t complain now that he was giving you attention.
his hands guided themselves to your waist, where he then told you to turn around so you were now on your hands and knees, your ass facing him. he was still standing as he held your hips from the edge of the bed. you felt his tip at your entrance.
“this okay?” he asked.
you give him a yes, and then you feel him slowly enter you. it felt so much different than when he had been on top of you before. there was a slight pain due to how much deeper he could push into you from this angle, but the pain melted into pleasure within seconds.
he pulled out just to drive himself back into you. his pace was slow until you adjusted to the position, and then he steadily began going faster. his fingers dug into the sides of your ass, pulling you into him with every thrust.
as he went harder, you gripped the sheets and stuffed your face into the mattress under you, trying to keep yourself quiet, but you couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips.
“fuck-“ jj cursed under his breath, his grip on you getting even harder. “feel so good, can’t get enough of this pussy”
his words brought you closer and his pace increased. you could feel him getting tenser, his thrusts getting sloppier.
“could have you like this every day if i could- shit.”
you were almost over the edge, the knot in your stomach threatening to undo.
“fuck- m’gonna cum princess” he moaned.
his last thrusts were deep and slow and they led you into perfect ecstasy. you came undone around his cock, moaning into the sheets right in time for him to pull out and finish on your back- your name leaving his mouth with curses and moans.
your body was limp when he cleaned your back with a towel, still in a haze from your orgasm.
“you okay?” he asked, running a hand down the middle of your back, feeling the ridges of your spine.
you nodded and sat up, grabbing your bikini from the floor and slipping it back on.
“kie is gonna kill me.” you say, slipping your sandals on your feet. “she’s not gonna believe any excuse i try to give her.”
“i’ll drive you down there.” jj offered. “i mean- are your legs alright to walk all the way to the shore or-“
you threw his shirt at his face and scoffed at him.
you had agreed to let him drive you to the beach while you fixed your hair in the visor mirror, trying to make yourself look presentable. although the whole way there you could only think about the words he said while he fucked you. you had no idea if he meant it or if it was just a thing he said in the moment. and this definitely wasn’t going to help save your thoughts about your boyfriend.
a/n: don’t know if i will write a part 3 to this, but requests are open for any jj or rafe fic!
tag list! (comment or message to be added or removed!)
@ifilwtmfc @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @xcallmetaniax @moondustedlily @x-0-madi-0-x @tumb1rgir1z
#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x y/n#jj obx imagine#jj maybank#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj x you#jj x reader#jj obx fic#obx4#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx#outer banks#jj maybank obx#outerbanks 4
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hiii :)
could you do a rafe x reader where the reader has a panic attack in front of sarah for the first and she knows to get the reader to rafe and he immediately calms her down?
rafe cameron x reader | hurt & comfort | (pogue!reader, mean girls, panic attack, crying, comforting!rafe, insecure!reader.)
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
No one figured Rafe Cameron would go for a Pogue. For all his life he’d been the number 1 Pogue hater, the biggest Kook defender, and overall just a pretentious asshole. That’s why it was the shock of the island when you showed up on his arm to Midsummer’s, wearing a dress that costed more than your rent with an anxious smile on your face.
Your boyfriend had promised to stick by your side for the entire night, and you were sure he meant it when he said it, but he hadn’t taken into account just how enthused the elders were going to be to see him. He wasn’t that teenage boy they knew anymore, instead a man living alone and dealing with his troubles; thanks to you.
It was halfway through the night when you went to the bathroom, the few glasses of champagne had your head feeling fuzzy and your bladder full. You locked yourself in the cubicle and started to do your business, before you heard voices from outside.
“It’s strange though, right?” The door closed behind the girls that had walked in, making you flinch as you stood to sort your dress out.
“Rafe with a Pogue. Yeah, definitely weird,” a squeaky voiced girl agreed with a laugh.
“It won’t last, trust me. He’s only with her for the image, it makes him look good to do charity for a girl like that. I’m pretty sure she’s a waitress at the club,” the other one responded.
“I’ll be sure to find him later and remind him of that.” The two of them giggled to themselves, gushing over how hot your boyfriend was for a couple more minutes before leaving. You didn’t step out of the cubicle until you were sure that you were alone, hot tears running down your cheeks.
Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the fact those girls had said everything you’d been thinking for the last few months you’d been together, you weren’t sure, but something about their words had hurt your feelings; and had sent you into a spiral. You sat down on the plush purple chair, breaths coming out rapidly and shakily.
“Oh my god, what happened?” You hadn’t even heard the door open, but as you turned your head you found Sarah rushing at you. She knelt down next to you, holding your hands as you let out fearful whimpers. “Fuck. Okay, stay here, okay? Don’t move!” She ran back out and you stared at the door, holding your chest anxiously.
Only a minute later the door was swinging open and Rafe was storming in, striding over to you. “Hey, hey. Look at me,” he demanded, gentle but firmly as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Breathe for me, okay? Slow breaths, you got it.”
He’d seen you like this a few times, he’d learnt the best ways to get you to relax. He held your hand over his own chest, feeling his heartbeat underneath your palm. He gave you a reassuring smile as you copied his breathing, gripping onto his fingers.
“Good girl,” he drawled, pulling you from the chair into his lap where he sat on the floor. He stroked your hair, leaving gentle kisses over your cheek. “You want to tell me what happened?”
“It’s stupid,” you croaked out, still gripping onto his hand.
“No. It’s not. Tell me what happened, so I can sort it out and get the both of us out of the women’s bathroom,” he joked, making you giggle tearfully.
You gave him a wobbly smile. You didn’t have much of a choice now, it was time to admit to him the insecurities you’d had over the last few months; the ones that kept you up at night as he slept soundly beside you. “No one here thinks I’m good enough for you.”
“What?” His face scrunched up in confusion. “Baby, what’re you talking about?”
“I— I’m a Pogue,” you whispered, as if you were admitting a crime.
“I know that,” he shrugged. “I’m not that oblivious, sweetheart. Why does that matter? Why are you saying this now?”
“Because everyone thinks it Rafe! I’m sure you have before, I know I have! Everyone here thinks you’re an idiot for being with me, that you’ve lost your mind. Maybe they’re right,” you cried out.
His hands grabbed your face firmly, leaning his forehead against your’s as he held you in place. “You’re the love of my life.”
“What?” You murmured.
“You are the love of my life. I don’t give a fuck if you’re a Pogue, I don’t care that you eat pizza like you’ve not eaten in years, or that you swear like a pirate. You’re my girl, and I love you. I don’t care about other peoples opinions, because they’re irrelevant,” he explained slowly, caressing your cheek as he spoke. “Now, do you want to go home or do you want to get the biggest bottle of champagne and make fun of these losers?”
“The second one,” you whispered, staring at him like a lovesick puppy.
He smirked, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “That’s my girl,” he mumbled, biting down on your bottom lip lightly to make you giggle. “Now, next time you get some dumb shit in your head you gonna tell me? Or do I have to spend all our loving conversations in the bathroom?”
You laughed, wiping your teary eyes as he helped you off his lap and back to your feet. He adjusted your flower crown with a cheesy grin, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars. If you didn’t believe his words before, you definitely did now. “You don’t like the bathroom?”
“Well… it’s definitely nicer than the men’s, I’ll give you that.”
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READ YOUR MIND
You're roommate and her boyfriend are incredibly loud, so you decide to spend the night at your hot friend Jason's house.
fluff, college!au, confessions, one bed trope
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It takes about twenty minutes of internal conflict before you find yourself outside Jason’s dorm room.
You feel stupid. It’s not like you haven’t been in Jason’s room before. You guys were friends. He’d slept on your couch after a movie night gone too long, you’d stayed up for hours writing essays together on his bedroom floor. This was nothing weird, nothing new.
But for whatever reason, today it feels different.
It might be the fact that you’re seeing him differently. You’re not sure when, but the line between friend and something else has started to blur. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the strong slope of his jaw, the fact that he was probably strong and muscular enough to throw you over his shoulder. How funny he was, how kind he was. The fact he studied English, how smart he was at it. It’s really no one's fault but his own. You’re surprised you’d lasted this long without crushing on him, anyway. And maybe the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your own. Innocent touches felt like something else, a hand holding your hips as he stepped behind you, a thigh against your own as you sat in impossibly tight lecture halls.
Whatever. There’s no point looking at it like that. You love your friendship with him too much to let a little crush ruin it.
If you were in any other situation, you wouldn’t be here. But it’s late and you know of all your friends Jason’s the most likely to be awake. You don’t want to bother him but you can't spend another night third-wheeling with your roommate and her boyfriend. That, and the fact that it gets particularly loud whenever you come to sleep.
After a deep breath to steel yourself, you knock on the door. It takes only a few seconds before it swings wide open.
And God, you take back everything you just said. Because he's wearing a pair of grey sweats, and an old band shirt that is showing off his delicious arms, and you don’t know if you can blame the fact it’s nearly midnight on the thoughts running through your head. His movements are slow, sleepy, as he blinks at you confused.
He pushes his glasses up his head, tufts of brown hair falling over his face. “Oh. Hey. Is- Are you okay?”
“Oh god, did I wake you?”
“Nah, you’re good.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.
It takes a second before the words come out of your mouth. “I- Lily. She has- She has her boyfriend round, and I don’t sleep very well when he’s there.” You laugh awkwardly, scratching your arm.
You hold up the books and paper you brought with you. “You mind if I crash here tonight? I bought stuff to keep me busy, so I’ll be out of your hair.”
Jason smiles easily, pushing the door open further. “Of course, yeah.”
You step in, thanking him as he grabs the stuff out of your hand and puts them on his front table. His dorm is so boyish. Him and his roommate, an eccentric boy everybody called Gar, were not the best at interior design. Their couches are dark grey with red pillows, jarring against the white carpet you’d bought them as a housewarming gift. The kitchen was an amalgamation of whatever plates and mugs they’d found at thrift stores, their fridge filled with pictures from Gar’s old polaroid camera. It was cute and very them, and a warm place to sleep that wasn’t accompanied by the sound of your roommate and her boyfriend doing whatever the hell they got up to alone.
“Thanks again. I can’t stand another night with those two.”
Jason snorts a laugh, sitting down on the couch. “It can’t be that bad. They’re nice people.”
“Yeah, sure. But all they do is remind me of how painfully single I am.” You huff, sitting beside him.
He’s close enough that you can smell the expensive cologne he wears. He’s shown you it once, a fancy glass bottle. He’s spritzed it on your wrist and the smell lasted all day. He nods at your words, and you turn your head towards the TV to avoid his gaze.
“That guy you saw last week didn’t work out?”
Your eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the date had been crap, and you’d forgotten about him the second you’d gone home. You’re surprised he remembers. You tell Jason about all of your romantic adventures, hoping it will have some effect on your feelings for him. It hasn't been very successful so far. And while Jason looks disinterested as he asks you, eyes focused on the movie on screen, his leg taps up and down, and he looks a little restless. You think about lying for a split second, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.
You scoff. “I haven’t spoken to him since. He was boring. And stupid.”
Jason laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s rude!”
“He couldn’t hold one conversation with me! Like, I asked him what his favourite book was and he said Diary of a Wimpy Kid. We are nineteen years old!” You whine, hands covering your face as Jason cackles next to you.
“So that’s all women want. A man who reads?” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and you roll your eyes.
“Well, duh. I am studying English after all. I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with him about what I do.”
“That’s a fair dealbreaker, I'll be honest.” Jason hums, resting his arm on the back of the couch, brushing your back slightly. “Is that all you’re looking for in a man?”
The TV blares quietly in the background. Some random show on the food network where the contestant currently on screen looks like they're about to drop the tiered cake in their hands. His question rings out in the room, and you know you only have a few seconds before your silence is considered awkward. But you can’t help but think his question is so suggestive. Does he want to know why out of innocent curiosity? Or does he want to know out of something else?
“Well. Obviously not.” You finally say, bringing your knees up to your chest. “But English comprehension would be nice.”
Jason snorts a laugh. “That being said. He has to be funny. And tall, at least taller than me. And he needs to be smart. And fit. Like, physically.”
Jason watches you with a small smile on his face, nodding, like he knows you're just trying to describe him in a roundabout way. You laugh, a little nervous under his gaze. You reach across the couch and grab the remote.Your arm brushes against his leg and the contact is fleeting but it makes your skin burn.
“And all these guys at uni, and you haven’t found one who fits?”
His voice is lower when he speaks again, and when you look at him he’s looking at you so intensely. And it’s then you notice that the two of you are sitting quite close on the couch, considering it's one big enough to fit about four people.
“Well. Yes. I- Maybe.”
He just nods again. You take a quick breath in, quickly grabbing your book from the table. “Did you finish the essay for next week?”
Jason groans, leaning his head back on the couch. “Fuck. No. I completely forgot.”
You wave your own essay in the air. “Well. I was gonna ask you to read over mine, but. Nevermind then.” You sigh dramatically.
“Shut up. Lemme read.” He takes it out of your hand, slipping his glasses back on his face. They’re thick rimmed lenses that make him look older than he is and you love them.
You watch him as he reads, fingers playing with his bottom lip as his eyes skim over your work. Some part of you feels the tiniest bit self-conscious, because he is a hundred times smarter than you, but you know he’d never make it feel that way. Jason suddenly looks up and his eyes meet yours. You smile, face heating, as he raises an eyebrow.
“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”
“Shut up.”
You tap the edge of your paper. “Good?”
“Great. Can you write mine too?”
You snort. “You wish.” Jason pouts and drops your paper back on the table.
“It’s fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”
You sit up immediately at that. “Yes. Let’s order food.”
Jason looks back at his kitchen. “I shouldn’t. I’ve eaten takeaway every night this week, I think. It’s also,” he quickly glances at his watch, “barely half twelve. What’s even open right now?”
You groan, shaking his shoulder. “Jason, don’t be responsible! I’m here, this is like a sleepover. We need to eat something junk-foody.”
Jason just frowns. You flick the centre of his glasses and he tuts. “Hey.”
“I’ll even pay! It’s on me.” You nod and pull out your phone. You’re opening UberEats before he can protest again.
“See. Burger King is open. We love Burger King!”
“We do?”
“Yes. What do you want?”
“A whopper.”
You spend the next ten minutes deciding and then the next thirty waiting anxiously for your food. The thing with Jason, and probably the reason you like him the most, is that you can talk to him about anything. Tonight, it’s his brother Dick’s birthday party. He leans in to show you the picture on his phone, and you try not to laugh at how unhappy he looks to be photographed.
When the doorbell rings Jason runs to grab the food, before bringing it back to the two of you. It takes another twenty minutes for the two of you to finish eating, old episodes of Friends humming in the background. Sleep circles your limbs and you yawn, sipping on blue slushy that had come with your order. It’s entirely too sweet and stains your tongue blue but you keep drinking it anyway.
“I don’t know. Bruce is always asking me to come over, but. Things are still weird.”
You nod. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s good you’re trying. I-“
You're cut off suddenly by Jason yelling and pointing at your arm. You screech, dropping your slush and shooting off the couch.
“What! Oh my god, what is it?” You yell, hands rubbing at your sleeves.
“You-“ Jason tries to speak but his words are cut off by a laugh. “It was just a little bug.”
“Jason. That is not funny! You freaked me out, look!” You whine, pointing at the now spilt slushy all over your hoodie.
“Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry.”
He gets up and grabs some tissues and you furiously dab at your hoodie. The couch is also now blue, and you frown. “There goes my bed, too. Guess I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor today.”
Jason perks up where he’s blotting the couch. He frowns, thinking for a moment. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, what? Take my bed.”
Your hands drop to your sides. “Well what about you?”
“I’ll take the floor. It’s my fault you split this, anyway.”
“It’s your bed. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”
“Well, it’s my dorm so. I think I’ll have the final say, sweetheart.” He teases.
You bite your bottom lip, thinking, and toss the used tissues on the table. “Why don’t we just sleep together?”
The tips of Jason’s ears turn a dark red and he looks a little shell-shocked at your words, before it’s replaced by a smirk. Your face flushes too, and you quickly shake your head.
“I- Not like that, I meant- Stop laughing.” You snap. But the sight of him laughing behind his hand makes you giggle a little too.
“I just mean, like. I don’t mind sleeping in the bed with you. I just- I don’t think there’s any point in one of us sleeping on the floor, if there’s a perfectly good bed that can fit us both, you know?”
You’re well aware that you’re rambling, and the way he tilts his head and smiles at you is not helping. He gives the couch one last wipe and stands.
“Alright. That’s cool with me if it’s cool with you. I can also get you something else to wear.” He gestures at your now blue hoodie and you smile gratefully.
You’ve been in Jason’s room once or twice, to grab something or take a call. But this time it’s different, because you’re looking at his bed and you’re going to be in it in about five minutes. You ignore the band posters plastered on his walls, the messy stacks of books all over his floor. You sit gingerly on the edge of the mattress and wait. He comes in only a moment later. He starts rummaging through his drawers and you just watch. He glances at you over his shoulder and shakes his head, huffing a laugh.
“Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” He whispers.
“Man up.”
He throws a hoodie at you and you catch it. “You know where the bathroom is.”
You walk into the toilet and quickly get changed. You leave your old hoodie in the hamper. Jason’s one is bigger and smells like him, and you don’t see yourself giving this back anytime soon. You give yourself a quick once over in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping mascara from under your eyes, before you head back to Jason’s room.
When you come back, Jason’s already in bed, doing something on his phone. You linger in the doorway and he looks up.
“You want a formal invitation?”
You roll your eyes and shuffle your way over. You gingerly lift up the sheets and climb in. You are so painfully aware of how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he puts his phone to the side and lays down properly. The room is silent other than the two of you breathing. Just when you're about to speak, he beats you to it.
“Night.” He whispers.
“Goodnight.”
You’re not crazy, right? This is weird. Maybe if it was Victor’s room. A boy friend who was completely platonic, it wouldn't mean anything. But you’ve felt the tension between you and Jason, the subtle flirting, the lingering touches. You know that whatever is happening between you guys is not just friendship. And you have no idea if it's just you, because Jason is breathing so evenly you think he’s fallen asleep already.
You shuffle a little in the sheets, uncomfortable. They smell like Jason and it’s not helping to calm your thoughts down. You turn around to lay on your side, and when you do, you’re met with a face right in front of you, looking back.
It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and this close, you can make out the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the grey hairs he’s growing at 20 that he always complains about. His eyelashes are so long, and you smile sleepily.
“Hi.”
He smiles too. “Hi.”
“I can’t sleep.” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Those burgers woke me up.”
Silence. You don't get a reply. You open your eyes again and Jason is just staring.
“Is there another bug on my face?” You joke. But he doesn't laugh.
“No. You just look so pretty right now.”
Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Jason looks like he’s telling you the time of day, so casual. He lifts up his hand slightly, and brushes a strand of your hair from out your face.
“I- Thank you.”
He doesn’t say anything again. You don’t know what to say. A silence settles over the room again. The two of you just look at each other. And just when you’re about to break it, he sits up so fast it makes you jump.
“Jason, what-”
“I can’t do this, I-”
You eyebrows furrow and you sit up, watching Jason flick on the lamp on his bedside table. The room is enveloped in a soft warm light, and his hair is tousled a little, his shirt wrinkled from how quickly he got up.
“What is going on right now?” “Did you know Gar isn’t home?” He says.
You say yes, because the fact you can’t hear him yelling at COD or something else, and the fcat he didn’t come say hi, is enough clue that he’s not home.
“Right, so. When I made you spill your slushy, which was an accident by the way, I could’ve easily just let you stay in there. He wouldn’t care.”
“Okay.” You say slowly.
“And. I didn’t. Because I knew that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the floor and i wouldn’t either, and then we’d be in this position, and I’d finally get the chance to fucking tell you how i feel.”
“How- How you feel?”
“Yes. And then I pussied out and I just said goodnight, and. And then you looked at me, and, fuck. I can’t take it anymore.”
And then Jason turns to look at you, and he looks so desperate as he grabs your hands, his skin calloused as he tightens his grip.
“I like you. A lot. And, you know, I’d like to think I'm pretty smart, but I know I am horrible when it comes to people, at feelings. So I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”
This is a dream. There’s no way this is real, that the Jason Todd, biceps and all, is confessing to you on his bed. You want to pinch yourself because the way his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand is making your heart squeeze in your chest.
You watch those pretty brown eyes furrow slightly at your silence.
“I- If you don’t feel the same way, I-”
You don’t think before you reach forward, palms grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward so you can press a kiss to his lips. And he barely waits a second before his eyes flutter closed, hands tangling in your hair to pull you impossibly closer. Your arms slide down to curve around his neck and you toy with the hair on the nape of his neck, and he groans. You finally let go and he leans his forehead on yours, kissing your nose, your cheek.
“I like you too, by the way. If the kiss wasn’t tell enough.”
He grins, boyish and handsome, and you want to kiss him again.
He sighs happily, hands slipping up the edge of his hoodie, eyes waiting for your nod of approval. When he gets it, he smiles again, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“God, thank fuck for Lily and her boyfriend
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nia try not to write a college au mission impossible... I LOVEE JASON TODD! In my head any alternate universe hes not emo so i write him nice and cute.
thanks to all who voted in the poll! im gonna make my way through all the guys on that list so look out for it! next up will be shinsou because of a very nice commenter ;P i hope u all enjoy this, leave any fic ideas in my ask box!
#fluff#oneshot#b3ach bunn7#jason todd oneshot#jason todd x reader#jason todd#batfam#dc comics#dc universe#batman#jason todd x y/n#jason todd red hood#jason todd reader#red hood x reader#red hood
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Pink Pony Club
summary - you weren't expecting much from your evening in a shitty bar, but then you saw a pretty woman sitting next to you.
pairing: cho hyun-ju x fem. reader
word count: 1.2k
contains: wlw, angst w/ comfort, fluff, a bit transphobia, pre squid game au
a/n: hyun-ju was my fav this season and i literally love her so much - she deserves the world and more😔💕
the request.
You looked bored at your drink while you caressed its round surface with your index finger. Your friends had finally managed to drag you to one of their favorite bars and, you didn't really enjoy being here, as you had expected since it was pretty, well - straight.
You were fine with it at first, when you all sat down at a table and just talked and laughed together. However, after a while a group of men sat down at your table - with everyone's permission, of course, but you still weren't the biggest fan of that decision. The only reason you didn't mind was that your friends seemed to be having a genuinely good time with the guys and that they weren't too bad. You still excused yourself from the table after a while, because one of them wouldn't stop subtly flirting with you even when did not hide your lack of interest. Sitting lonely at the bar counter wasn't too bad, you guessed.
I'll just finish my drink and then leave. You thought to yourself, still bored, and glanced subtly at the woman next to you after noticing how she seemed to be moving around quite nervously for a while. “Hey, are you alright?” you whispered to her in a soft voice after you moved closer to her side.
She returned your gaze slightly surprised and seemed to try to make herself even smaller after your attention was focused on her. “Ah, yes everything is fine. there is nothing to worry about…”
A few guys a little further away from you suddenly started to cackle ugly after she finished talking and you didn't miss how the woman next to you turned her eyes back to the counter - obviously feeling uncomfortable by what they were saying.
“Did you hear that voice? It's even deeper than yours!” he said to his friend, who only agreed with a shocked look on his face as he pointed his hand in your direction. “Come on man, that's not fair! Have you even seen how rugged that dude is? I mean you do realize that's not a real - you know…”
You took an annoyed breath as you looked across the room and bit your tongue to keep you from spitting in their hideous faces. Though, it was pretty hard to restrain yourself since you really wanted to. "Assholes.” you just uttered while staring at their heads with a hateful look, imagining them exploding.
“Just ignore them…” said the woman next to you with a gentle voice after noticing your reaction. “What they say doesn't bother me anyway.”
And even though she said that you knew it did because it always did. You returned your attention back to her and introduced yourself to her after taking the last sip of your drink. “And what's your name, pretty?”
She seemed to be caught off guard a little when she heard you say that. “Oh, ehm…” she stumbled a little over her words. “It's ehm Hyun-ju. My name is Hyun-ju.”
You smiled. “Pretty like you. It suits you.” you complimented her and noticed how the weird guys from the corner were still watching you. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” you asked and were glad when she nodded. “Well, come with me, I know a good spot,” you told her and took her hand in yours.
You gently pulled her off the chair with you and led her out of the stuffy bar, feeling like you could breathe again when your nose met the fresh air. “I was really close to beating those guys up,” you told her as you walked hand in hand with her. Hyun-ju giggled lightly, as if it was hard for her to imagine you doing something like that. You looked at her in disbelief. “What, you don't believe me? I'm totally serious, really!”
She tried to hide her smile, but barely managed it. “No, I believe you.” she replied, but you weren't really convinced by her answer. You just hummed when you finally noticed the store. “Look there! I hope you're hungry, because this place makes the best japchea.” you told her happily while holding the door open for her because a long time had passed since you last went to this little restaurant.
Luckily, there weren't many people here at this time of day, so you managed to get a good seat for two. “Sorry, I didn't even ask if you wanted to eat japchea. They also have lots of other things if you want, my treat.” you winked at her and Hyun-ju noticed how you cuddled your hands against your cheeks, as if they were still warm from the alcohol.
“Thank you, but japchea is fine. I will trust your recommendation,” she replied shyly and watched as you shouted your order with two fingers in the air to the chef, who gave you an all-clear with his thumb. “They don't have a waiter here, so…” you explained, automatically putting your hand back on hers without really noticing.
Well, you didn't until Hyun-ju's eyes turned to it and it was only then that you realized you were probably being a little too handsy. “Oh, I'm sorry about that.” you quickly apologized when you quickly pulled your hand back. “I really didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything, you're probably not even into other women?” you let the question hang in the air, while you simultaneously cursed yourself for even asking that.
Hyun-ju blinked slightly in surprise while she played nervously with her hair. You knew at that moment that you had fucked up and prevented yourself from showing your disappointment. Unknown to you, she was thinking about something entirely else right now. So she was flirting with me the whole time? I didn't even realize, how embarrassing. “Are…are you?” she asked tensely, almost slapping her hand over her face at her stupid question. Of course she is, she just said it.
You laughed lightly with one eyebrow raised. “Do I like women? Hell yeah.” you just said, finding it a little funny how she acted right now. cute.
Hyun-ju was used to attracting the attention of girls before starting her transition. She even had a few relationships with them and liked it, but dating was one of the many things that became more than just difficult for her after she officially came out. “I'm a trans woman,” she finally said, even though she knew that you knew.
You just leaned forward with a grin. She hadn't turned you down, that's all you cared about. “I know,” you said, watching how she shyly avoided your gaze while crossing her arms in front of her. “You don't have to hide. I meant it when i said that you're very pretty.”
Hyun-ju slowly met your gaze and this time it was her who initiated physical contact with you. She held your hand softly. “I think you're really pretty too,” she said, and at that moment, you were both pretty glad that you went to that shitty bar today, even if you'd never go there again.
#x reader#x female y/n#x female reader#x you#fanfiction#squid game#x fem!reader#squid game 2#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game hyun ju#cho hyun ju#cho hyunju#cho hyunju x reader#cho hyun joo#wlw#hyun-ju#hyun-ju x reader#lesbian#bisexual#lgbtq#trans pride#squid game x you#player 120#player 120 x reader#hyun ju x female reader#park sung hoon
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━━ ❝ baby, put your back into it! ❞
☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, smug and cocky reader, feral toji
☾₊‧⁺...a/n : idc idc i wanted something self-indulgent and want toji to call his wife 'ma'. hopefully it's good, it's been a long while since i have written anything so enjoy ☾
☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : you notice a slight change in toji...seems like his breeding kink reached the next level
it didn't take long for you to notice something was different with toji. he would just...keep referencing families, babies, pregnancy...it was definitely weird coming from him.
"can you believe how expensive diapers are? if you ever had a baby, i'd just steal them, 'm not gettin' scammed for piss-'n'-shit-holders."
"...do you think you'd have a fat baby? jus' asking, 'cause you got some fat cheeks. and this time, I'm talking about the ones on your face."
"i hope you don't get gross cravings if you get pregnant. hot chips, peanut butter, and bacon? nah, wife or not, i'd beat your ass."
but everything really got worse when he started calling you that fucking nickname.
"hey, pretty ma."
"mmm, c'mon, ma, stay in bed with me longer..."
"fuck, you look so good under me like this, ma...can't wait to destroy that pretty cunt."
you didn't think too much of it, it was probably just toji being...toji. except, now? you realize exactly what's been plaguing his mind.
"you make me so fuckin' mad, y'know that," toji huffs, his fingers digging into the plush fat of your hips as he helps you fuck yourself on his thick cock.
you scoff, giving a little grind of your hips. the way he sucks in a breath and rolls his hips up into you made you grin; he talks so much shit for someone whose dick throbbed so much from that little movement.
"if i didn't make you mad, toj, you wouldn't have stuck around."
you don't give him the chance to give you a snide response before you climb off his lap and further up on the bed, giving the silent hint to switch positions. toji has to bite his tongue, shooting you a glare that makes you grin.
"you are insufferable, woman," he grumbles, coming to hold himself over you as he continues to glare down at you. toji sucks at pretending to be mad you, you think with a giggle, seeing need swirl in those pretty eyes of his. he slides his cock between your slick folds, cursing when it catches on your entrance.
just as toji is about to slide back in, you press your hand against his abdomen while your other hand wraps around the base. "ooh," he hisses, smirking down at you. "pretty wife's gonna put it in for me?"
however, it's clear he doesn't expect it when you begin to tug the condom off, eyes snapping up to you. oh, that absolutely adorable look on your face, brows furrowed together and embarrassment all over it...he felt himself twitch because of it. your usual cocky and smug persona seemed to have melted away.
"babe...what are you—"
"toji, do you wanna have a baby with me?"
the sudden question makes him freeze, his eyes widening with a mixture of shock and arousal. were you seriously asking him this now? as you fucking tugged the condom, making it slowly peel off his dick?
did you know there was no coming back from this?
"i'm being serious, fushiguro, give me an answer before i make you put a new condom on," you mutter shyly under your breath, the condom finally coming off.
he's snapped back to the present when he feels you rubbing his tip through your soaking cunt, little sighs leaving you when it brushes over your clit.
"...are you serious? hey, hey, look at me. you're not fuckin' with me right now, are ya? tell me. you really want t' have a kid with me?"
you finally make eye contact with him, that vulnerable look on your face making his heart race. you were too precious for your own good...god he was so fuckin' happy he wifed you up.
"yes, toji, i want you to make me a mommy. i...i-i want to start a family with you, okay? so stop asking me questions and jus—oh-!"
with no hesitation and no time to finish your sentence, toji slides himself inside, his hips flush against your ass as he groans your name. you're so fucking warm and wet, holy shit, he could cum just from having you wrapped around him like this.
"good god, you're gonna be the fucking death of me," he groans, leaning down to press a heated kiss against your lips. "i'm gonna ruin you, i'm goin' to fuckin' destroy you and this little cunt, you know that right?"
toji starts moving, setting a fast, deep, rough pace that makes his hot tip press against every part of you in ways that make your eyes roll back. "t-toj, w-waaait—!"
he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as he lifts your legs up, putting you into a goddamn mating press to stuff you full and you know you aren't going to make it out of this sane.
especially not when you keen at the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix.
"i can't, i can't wait, ma, i can't," he huffs into your ear, the room filling with the wet slaps of his balls smacking against your ass, the wet squelching of your needy cunt trying to suck his cock back in each time he pulls out.
"do you know what it fuckin' does to a man to hear his. fucking. wife. say she wants him to knock 'er up? huh? you don't d'you, baby girl," he asks into your ear, hips pounding hard against yours to punctuate each word.
all toji can think about is you, you getting round with his baby, you glowing so gorgeously, the way you'll out all cute, maybe get pudgy all over, all because of him...and everyone would know who did it.
"hoohmygod, listen to that pretty pussy," he hisses, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as his eyes flutter back into his head.
you can't help but hear it, it sounds so messy and sloppy, you just know you'll have to replace the sheets after this. but that's the last thing on your mind when he shifts forward just a bit, making your hips tilt up just a little more—
"oh my god, toji, t-toji, baby, don't stop, please," you practically sob, lifting your hips up to meet his thrusts as he hits that sweet spot so perfectly.
a cruel smirk breaks out on his face when he realizes he found that spongy spot inside you that makes you cream, leaning close and pressing his forehead against yours. "i know, i know, it feels good, doesn' it? yeah, you're such a slut for my cock, fuckin' milkin' it like a good girl," he coos to you condescendingly.
"w-we can't go back, toj," you whimper, your hands coming up to cup his face. you messily press wet kisses all over his face as you moan openly. "c-can't fuck with condoms anymore, it feels too good, baby,"
"shh, shh, mama, i got you," he reasures you, chuckling at how precious you are...telling him not to fuck you with condoms anymore? oh, he had no problem with that.
"'m gonna make sure i breed you nice 'n' deep, yeah? gonna get you pregnant with my baby," he coos, moving his hand between you both to rest on your stomach. "'m gonna fill you up...right here," he says with a devious tone before he presses down right as he pushes back inside of you.
"babyyyy, i'm cumming," you cry, digging your nails into his back as tears stream down your face. he didn't stop, still snapping his hips into you as you orgasm, feeling you squeeze him so fucking tight as he talks you through it, little phrases of 'that's it, keep cumming' and 'goooood, you're gettin' so wet, milk that cock, it's all for you' being huskily groaned into your ear.
but, when you think he'll stop, giving you a break...you realize he's not, he's not stopping, toji's still fucking you, and you glance down and see how you're creaming, your cum coating his cock in a milky sheen as you squeal, managing to get your legs off his shoulders to try and move up on the bed away from his unforgiving pace.
"tojiiii, 's too much," you huff, managing to move far up the bed enough that only the tip is inside of you...but toji isn't letting you get away that easily.
"nononono, don't run away, don't run away from me, mama." he follows you up the bed until you are trapped between him and the pillows messily pushed against the headboard.
"don't run, c'mon, get back on my cock, tha's it," toji rasps, his voice making you shiver. he sounds so desperate, so unhinged, so needy. he looks so good like this, you think, mewling when he pushes back inside.
"there she is, good girl, lettin' me breed her cunt."
your insides are getting turned into mush, and, fuck, was he going deeper? you nodded your head, but you didn't even know why, it jsut felt right, felt so good, you were gonna cum again—
"i need to fuckin' breed you," he practically whines, toji's eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on chasing his end, your sticky cunt driving him fucking mad. soon, he'd be cumming inside of you, filling you up, his hot, thick cum getting sucked right into your womb by your desperate pussy...
"shit, fuck, doll, let me cum in you, let me empty my balls inside of you, i want it so fuckin' bad, mama, let me make you my pretty pregnant wife, please, let me give you a baby—"
he was rambling, eyes snapping open as he tried to glare at you but you just moan when he made eye contact. he's trying sohard to seem angry, but he's not, he's melting in your walls, eyes begging you to let him paint them white, to try and knock you up.
you nod again, rapidly to the point you get dizzy, hands grabbing his biceps and squeezing hard. "toji, don't you, hhf, waste a fuckin' drop, or i swear to god i will t-tie you up and milk you until you are shooting blanks, give me your fuckin' baby—"
"—fuckin' shit, babyyy, i'm cumming, fucking take it, take it, take my cum into that pretty little cunt-!"
the groan that he gives you is loud and needy, dropping down to messily kiss you as he pounds into you in deep, hard thrusts trhough his orgasm. you shudder violently at the feeling of thick, hotness filling you up from the inside. it's so much, you can tell it's not all gonna fit, feeling some of it messily spurt out of you as his thrusts grow lazier.
"thank you, baby," you softly coo, thankful for both the break of overstimulation and the pleasant feeling of being so full. he nearly collapses on you, holding himself up with his forearms as he pants, catching his breath as you kiss all over his face, waiting for him to come back to you.
eventually, he sits up, a hand running through his messy hair as his other one stays on your waist, stroking it up and down, taking in the view of you catching your breath against the pillows he cornered you against.
...you're so so pretty.
"shit...ah, damn, you're a mess," toji mutters to himself, looking between the two of you. it's a filthy mess, a mixture of your cream and the thick cum that couldn't stay inside. hell, he doesn't think he's ever cum this much in one go before. "mmmn...it looks pretty though," he says with a proud smirk. he did that to you, after all.
as he goes to pull out of you, toji's shocked by the way you manage to gain the strength to flip him onto his back...just that single move had him twitching back to hardness inside you as wide eyes looked up into your mischievous ones.
"don't pull out, yet, toj...just one more time? just to make sure it takes?"
an almost evil smirk breaks out on toji's face as he digs his fingertips into your ass, hard enough that it'll leave marks.
"shit, i knew i married the right fuckin' woman. come on, baby girl, let me see you fuck me stupid. let's make sure i give my wife what she wants.
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#toji fushiguro smut#toji smut#toji x reader#toji x you#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ
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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?"
Part two: Rewound Infinitely
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. A high schooler, judging by the 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 halts in his tracks. 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.
It 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. You need to go back. You need to fix things, but why do you need to why can't he just leave you alone—
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. "That sounds creepy."
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.)
Part two: Rewound Infinitely
#yandere#yandere jjk#yandere gojo satoru#x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#time travel fix it#a crumbling storyline#platonic haibara x reader#dark content#f!reader#implied romance#tw:blood/violence#tw: child abuse#unrequited feelings#ambiguous ending#BUT its a positive one
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RUIN THE FRIENDSHIP!?
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: geto suguru/reader
𝐖𝐂: 11.9k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: friendships are hard, especially when the lines are so blurry you can't tell where the both of you stand. so what do you do when you catch feelings on top of all that ??
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, angst (?), swearing, making out, annoying drunk stranger, fingering, dirty talk, marking, titty worship, p in v sex, clit slapping, creampie, geto fucks mean, geto is a TEASE, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, i think that's all !!
Being friends with Geto Suguru isn’t hard… in theory but in practice it’s one of the most difficult things you’ve ever had to do. It’s especially difficult because he does things for you that feel like they’re pushing the boundaries of a normal friendship without actually doing anything weird.
Things like his insistence on bringing things for you when you’re feeling down, showing you extra care in how he talks to you, hanging out with you and having frequent movie nights, being attentive to your needs. While those things are innocuous in theory, it’s the way he treats you, talks to you and how it makes you feel that has your friendship feeling like it’s on a precarious ledge. Caught between pulling back or pushing over.
Sighing, your foot kicks at his sitting form, “Don’t you have something better to do tonight?”
“Like what?” His eyebrow raises at you, eyeing your lazy form, spread out comfortably on your couch.
You’d feel bad for taking up the whole couch if you weren’t so comfortable, “I don’t know, like a date? Hanging with friends? Going out on the town or whatever youths do.”
“Firstly, I’m older than you–”
Interjecting to add, “–Not by much!”
He only rolls his eyes, ignoring your interruption all together, “To your other points, I’m not interested in dating right now, and I am hanging out with a friend.”
Sighing louder than last time, foot pushing him enough to sway him, “Aren’t you bored of me?”
“No?” his brows pinching in confusion, “Should I be?” Hand grabbing your foot to stop it from kicking at him.
You pout, trying to pull yourself free of his grip, “I don’t know.”
“Don’t say stupid things,” he huffs, amused by your struggle. “I could ask you the same thing you know.”
“I like hanging out with you,” you grumble at him.
“Yeah, well, I feel the same,” finally letting go of your foot.
You’re feeling restless, he’s your friend, you know he’s your friend, and yet you can’t help hoping that your friendship is just a little bit more special. You groan and kick at him with both your feet.
“Woah, hey!” Both his hands grab at your ankles, pinning them down into the couch, “What’s wrong with you tonight?”
“I’m annoyed.”
“I’ve taken notice,” he’s trapping you with a pointed look, waiting for more of an explanation from you.
If you had an explanation, you’d give it to him but as of right now, you aren’t even sure if you’re aware of what you’re feeling enough to verbalise it to him. You deflate, looking back at him sheepishly, “I know you want to know what’s wrong, but I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Or you don’t want me to know?”
Pushing yourself up, you cock your head at him, “The result is the same despite my answer, no?”
“No.” His tone resolute, “I could help,” he returns.
You deliver a very plain, “You can’t.” He’s the cause of your confusion, talking to him could make it all so much worse and you don’t really want to deal with the fallout of all that.
“Woah, awful dismissive of me, I might be able to fix what’s wrong easily.”
Turning so you’re facing the screen, you try to focus on the plot, “You can fix what’s wrong right now by being quiet and watching the movie.”
“I was watching the movie, you distracted me,” he pokes lightly at your shoulder.
Shushing at him quickly, “Shut, I’m trying to listen.”
He doesn’t say anymore, just goes back to watching the movie in silence, probably following the plot better than you are because you’re sat closer to him like this and can’t help but sneak glances at him.
It’s not fair, he looks pretty like this, face illuminated by the soft glow of the television, seemingly entranced by the movie playing. While gazing over his features, you find yourself constantly looking back at his lips, heart stuttering in your chest. You wonder how kissing him would feel like, would it help, wait.
Prying your eyes off him, you desperately hope to be shown some kind of mercy, you shouldn’t want to kiss him, you shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him. You need to get a hold of yourself.
Unfortunately, you are not shown any mercy and all you can manage to think about is him, how soft his lips might be, how he would kiss you, would he be tentative… or would he kiss you like he’s done it a million times before.
Not even realising you’re staring at him again until he sighs and locks his eyes onto yours, “Are you aware you’re staring at me?”
Trying to play it cool by answering, “I was not staring.”
“Are you alright?” He’s growing a little concerned by your unusual behaviour tonight.
“I’m fine! Good even, just… a little lost in thought is all.” You feel guilty.
“And just what exactly are you thinking about?”
Your skin flares at his question, feeling embarrassed by your thoughts, “Nothing! General thoughts… you know…”
“Right…” He’s clearly sceptical, not believing your flimsy answers for even a second, “Have I done something to upset you?”
He’s too much for you right now, you try answering confidently but fail miserably, “No?”
Moving so his body is facing you, he gets into your space, worried by your answer, “Why don’t you sound sure?”
“Why are you asking me so many questions tonight?” You avoid his gaze, flustered by him suddenly so close to you. Still thinking about his lips on yours, in the back of your head thinking about his hands on your body.
“You’re being weird, I’m just concerned,” his hand reaches for your face, “Do you have a fever or something?” His knuckles rest on your cheek, gauging your temperature.
“Seriously, I’m fine,” you’re fumbling more than you want to, eyes rounded and shocked looking into his.
It feels like you grow warmer the longer his hand stays on your face, it’s becoming difficult to think. If you had a good reason, you would kick him out right now but you’re already concerning him and you’re trying so hard to be normal. This night is taking a very unfortunate turn.
His face twists, concern written all over it, “You feel a little warm, are you sure you’re okay?” Hand slipping from your cheek, moving to rest against the back of the couch.
Trying to keep your answers short, you give a simple, “I’m sure.”
Geto doesn’t know where to go from here, his silence is evidence of that. You don’t blame him though because you’re not really sure where to go from here either, the thoughts of his lips on yours linger in your mind and you feel as if you could die.
“I just…” He looks to you when you start talking, ready to hear whatever it is you have to say, “I was just thinking – and don’t make this weird – but I was thinking about… how you would kiss me…” your words trail off slightly, growing quieter and quieter with each word.
His eyes widen slightly in response before he switches back to his neutral expression, “I–”
“–I don’t wanna know, don’t talk actually,” you cut him off abruptly, too embarrassed to dissect this any further and certainly not willing to have a conversation with him about it, already regretting having admitted to thinking it.
He questions you, clearly caught between being entertained and somewhat concerned, “I’m not allowed to comment?”
“No.”
“Even though you’ve been thinking about how I would–”
Hurriedly moving your hand to cover his mouth, hissing out, “Shush!”
You’re closer like this, the proximity flustering you, the silence awkward, Geto glares at you from under your hand. He has something to say and is showing clear disdain for your repeated interruptions.
His larger hand reaches up and wraps around your wrist, trying to gently pry your hand away but you hold steady. Growing frustrated with this little tug of war game you have going on, he uses more force to pull your hand down, grabbing your other hand as well. Restraining them both in your lap, keeping you still.
Exasperated when he asks, “Don’t you think you’re overeating slightly?”
“No.” You tug back on his grip but get nowhere.
“Why are you annoyed at me over this? They’re your thoughts,” he reminds.
You’re irritated with how right he is, it’s not his fault you’re thinking like this, but it doesn’t change the fact that sitting right next to him makes it difficult for you to think of anything other than how soft his lips might be, or if he’ll hold you still while he kisses you, or if–
He barks out a quick laugh, “You wanna kiss me that bad?”
Realising you were staring at his lips again you feel like you might spontaneously combust, struggling against his hold and huffing out, “Shut up, just forget I even said anything.”
He sounds restrained and incredibly serious when he murmurs back, “Might not be able to if you keep looking at me like that.”
“Don’t make this even more embarrassing for me, Suguru! It’s your fault,” you accuse indignantly.
Lips quirking evilly, “Oh? So, you want me to fix it then?”
“You should! Take a little responsibility,” you grumble out at him, all pouty and annoyed.
Leaning in closer to press you, “Do you want me to kiss you? Do you think it would help?”
“I don’t know… I mean…” you look to his lips again, gaze getting a little lost as you do.
If Suguru were being honest with you, he’d tell you how much you’re killing him when you look at him like that but he’s stubborn and a tease, so instead he says, “Eyes up here.”
Dragging your eyes back to his and staring daggers, completely pissed at him but mostly yourself for being so obvious again, “Do you think it would help?”
“You’d stop wondering,” he shrugs easily, like this is all so incredibly normal and not uncharted territory for the both of you.
“I don’t want this to make our friendship weird,” feeling pathetic as you look at him, you’re not even sure if what you have together is as simple as a friendship, it feels like so much more. At least, you’re kind of hoping it is, kissing him could do irreparable damage and you don’t just mean in terms of how you act around one another but specifically how you feel about him.
“I won’t let it,” he assures.
“I’m not worried about you…”
He’s taken aback by your small admission, it’s not clear enough for him to make any real conclusions from it or confront you on anything just now but he knows it makes his heart beat faster and flusters him slightly. In all his years of casual dating and serious relationships, you’re the only person to have ever made him feel like such a fool.
“It’s up to you then,” he smiles softly.
You aren’t sure if it’s worth the risk but if this is the only chance you’ll get then you don’t know if you want to risk letting it go by either, “I think… yes.”
Playing dumb, he asks, “‘Yes’ what?”
Your tone lowers again, confident answer short lived when he teases you, “Yes… I want you to kiss me…”
“You’re sure?” He asks but his hands are already moving up your body, one resting against the side of your neck, touch gentle and light.
“I mean… I’m not sure if this is a good idea but I’m sure I want you to kiss me.”
He huffs lightly in disbelief, breath tickling against your lips, “What’s wrong with you tonight?”
“You…” Frown dusting your features as you utter it, eyes already focused back on his lips.
He doesn’t say anymore after that, faltering in his movements a bit but ultimately moving in completely and pressing his lips to yours delicately. It’s featherlight, kiss shallow and simple, like he’s holding back. It’s still enough to have your head full, full of thoughts of him, of how soft his lips are, how gentle his kisses are.
Geto pulls back all too soon for your liking, putting some distance between the two of you, head cocking to the side as he looks you over, “Curiosity satisfied.”
“Is that really how you would want to kiss me?”
“What?”
At his question you’re suddenly all too aware how bold yours was, “I just… It’s nothing, sorry.” Fumbling over yourself, not wanting to hurt his feelings, “It was nice! It was a nice kiss.”
“No, no,” he squints at you, “Go on… say what you want.”
It’s quiet for a moment, your hesitance clear, “…Did you… kiss me how you wanted to?”
“I think if I kissed you how I wanted,” pausing to lean in closer, “You might pass out or something.”
“Oh, come on, you’re not my first kiss or anything,” you roll your eyes at him and his ego, “I was just curious, if that’s really how you’d kiss me then that’s all there is to it, it was a nice kiss,” you shrug at him.
“Why am I starting to feel like I’m being assessed?”
“If you feel that way then that’s on you.” Trying so hard to play it cool, like you can’t tell he was holding back, like you don’t want him to kiss you more, “Do you wanna go back in the movie? To where we were before?”
As you get up to move off the couch and find the remote, Suguru is pulling you back down to him, one hand gently holding the front of your throat. You don’t get a second to think about all the movements he just made, his lips on yours, rushed, like he’s suddenly, incredibly desperate to kiss you.
Barely able to keep up with him, head dizzy from the whiplash, this isn’t at all how he kissed you before. You’re basically panting against him when he does pull back, allowing you the small moment to catch your breath.
His thumb pulls down on your chin lightly, “Open your mouth more,” his eyes are lidded as he looks at you, tone deeper than before.
Obeying him wordlessly and then he’s kissing you again, tongue in your mouth. It’s all messy and rushed and has you losing your mind. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he pulls your body closer to his, hand moving to the back of your head.
When he sucks your tongue into his mouth and licks at you, you can’t stop the moan that leaves you. Swallowed down by Geto in an appreciative manner, his kiss lingers for a while longer, making you dizzy and thoughtless. He pulls back from you, connected by a string of saliva that snaps when he licks at his lower lip.
The look on your face is dumbstruck, eyes big and wet as you gaze up at him in a dazed manner. It makes him feel feral, not able to help the way he leans back in and presses more short, sloppy kisses to your swollen lips.
There’s a pause before you can regain your faculties enough to say anything to him and even then, the only thing you can manage is, “I… uhm…”
“Was that better?” He’s trying to be light-hearted about it, but his lips are swollen as well, and his eyes are lidded, and he looks… “You didn’t pass out did you?” His head lowers so his eyes catch yours.
Your brain feels fuzzy and all you can think about it how you’ve never been kissed like that before, that you want to keep being kissed like that, “What? No… I just… wow.”
“Live up to your expectations?”
“I didn’t really have any, I was only curious…” Smiling big at him, you add, “But yeah, maybe even exceeded them.”
“You aiming to boost my ego, or did I really kiss you stupid?” He can’t help the way he leans in again, just shy of your lips.
Mouth on yours before you get to answer or refute what he’s accused, you don’t stop him though, allowing him to kiss you fully, deeply. One of his hands on the side of your face, holding you, the other grips at your hip, almost tugging you in closer.
Before you lose focus again, you part to gasp out, “I don’t know if–” interrupted by his lips on yours, hand tangling into his hair to pull him back, he groans at the force of the tug, “Suguru, I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep–”
“–Just another kiss, one more…” breathless in how he asks, mouth hot on yours, tongue already in your mouth.
It’s almost too much, he’s so insistent, he’s kissing you like he might never get to again, like he’s trying to get the most out of this. He might actually have you passing out, it’s not even as if you really want him to stop but that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?
Pulling back, he sucks on your lower lip before nipping at it, the whimper he pulls from you is embarrassing and weak and you’re facing an internal conflict of so many emotions right now but mostly you’re struck by how badly you want to sleep with him.
You hadn’t realised his hand had snuck under your shirt, warm and large against your side, sending a shiver down your spine. The breathlessness you’re hit with has your skin feeling hot as you try to stumble out your words, “I, uh, think we should stop… here.”
“Why? Am I not a good kisser? Are you not enjoying yourself?” A smile creeps onto his face, “You sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”
“Don’t.” Your head tucks down and onto his chest, forehead leaning against him, “Please don’t embarrass me.”
He wraps his arms around your body, embracing you, “Can’t help it.”
You stay like this for probably longer than you should, enjoying the moment too much for someone who’s about to go back to being just his friend.
Geto breaks the silence first, speaking into the top of your head, “Is your curiosity satisfied or are you going to start kicking me again?”
“I can’t promise I’ll never kick you again but yeah… I’m satisfied.”
He laughs against you, “Alright, well, if you’re ever curious again… you know where to find me.”
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
It’s been about a week since you crossed a line you probably shouldn’t have in your friendship with Geto, and like the incredibly brave individual you are… you have been ignoring him.
Not on purpose though, you intend on replying to all his messages… but then you get nervous and freak yourself out and stop short of sending anything back. From his messages, you can tell he’s getting increasingly more worried… or maybe frustrated… you’re not sure, there is only so much you can infer over text.
Maybe you should reply, looking at his last message that reads, ‘seriously? answer me. today.’ Oh yeah… he’s annoyed, you have no idea how to reply to him, maybe something simple? Or maybe a long paragraph overexplaining yourself… or maybe–
Your phone screen changes to Shoko’s caller ID, saved by the metaphorical bell, “Hey! What’s up?”
She sounds a bit short when she answers you, “Are you coming tonight?”
“Tonight…” You trail off, completely blanking on what the hell she’s talking about.
Her reply coming incredibly deadpan and disappointed, “You forgot.”
“No noo, I would never forget about…” The rest of your sentence dropping off, silence falling over the line.
She fills in the gaps for you, “The stupid party that’s being thrown by our stupid friends to celebrate the stupid event that is a boring, normal, Friday night.”
She already sounds over it and you’re pretty sure she would’ve only just got there, “Okay, well… I now feel significantly better about the fact that I actually had forgotten what tonight was.”
“Yeah well I wish I had forgotten too because this is boring without you.”
“Didn’t you only just get there?”
“I feel like that’s beside the point,” you can feel her eyeroll through the phone, “So, when are you getting here?”
Sighing as you ask, “Do I really have to come?”
Not missing a single beat when she shoots back, “I’m here which means yes, you do.”
You go quiet for a moment, “…Will Suguru be there?”
“You’re more likely to know than me,” she sounds confused, “Listen, I don’t know what happened but surely you don’t think you can avoid him forever.”
“Not forever… just tonight,” you really don’t feel like running into him in person, not when you can barely get your head on straight long enough to message him back.
“I haven’t seen him, and he didn’t sound all that interested when this was first planned so I doubt he will show up.”
“You’re not just lying to get me there, are you?”
“Of course not,” it’s always been hard to tell when she’s joking but you’re pretty sure Suguru isn’t there, if you had been replying to him, you probably would’ve ended up hanging out together tonight just to avoid that pointless party.
Deciding to take the risk, you acquiesce, “Alright, I’ll be there soon, just give me a bit to put on something that isn’t pyjamas.”
Getting out of the apartment will be good for you, that and you’ll have the chance to catch up with Shoko, it’s been a while since you last hung out.
“Just come in your pyjamas.”
“Okay, now you’re being unreasonable,” you chuckle.
She groans through the phone, “Gojo and I just made eye contact, that’s like asking to be trapped in a conversation for at least an hour.”
You smile at her and her exaggeration, “That’s really funny, tell him I said hi.”
“Don’t hang up on me–”
The line goes dead as you hang up on her.
Nearly an hour has passed by the time you get to the party, but when you make eye contact with Shoko across the room – still stuck in conversation with Gojo – it looks like a century has passed for her.
Walking up to them both, you grab Gojo by the sides of his arms and shake him, making a loud noise to scare him as you do. He just about dies then and there, head whipping around to see it’s just you and gripping a hand over his chest.
He’s a little breathless when he scolds you, “You scared the fuck outta me, what the hell?”
“I thought it would be funny,” you smile bright at him, out the corner of your eye seeing Shoko fighting a smile and hiding it behind her drink.
“It wasn’t,” he half pouts.
“It kinda was,” Shoko interjects.
He just continues to pout over how badly you got him.
“Hi Satoru,” you chirp at him, trying to be as sweet as possible for scaring the living daylights out of him.
“Yes, hello,” he fights a smile when greeting you back, and then his face twists as if suddenly remembering something, “Hey! What happened with you and Suguru?”
Taken aback by his abruptness, “What?”
Staring intently at you, seemingly desperate to know your business, “I know something happened, you gotta tell me what.”
Honestly, you would’ve thought Geto would’ve told him by now, seeing as how they’re sort of attached at the hip, “He hasn’t told you?”
“He’s insistent that nothing is wrong.”
“Then nothing’s wrong.”
“I know something is wrong and I also know you’re dodging him because he made me text you to see if you’d reply and you replied within the same minute,” he squints at you accusatorily.
Arms crossing over your chest as you size him up, “You sent me a photo of the cat that hangs out in your neighbourhood as bait? That’s messed up Satoru.”
“I was investigating,” he defends.
“No, you were being nosy, just like you are now.” Something occurs to you very suddenly, “Wait, if you’re here… and I’m here… where is Suguru?”
“Here, obviously,” he shrugs.
Turning, you glare at Shoko who raises her hands in defence, “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t lie, I really haven’t seen him. I’ve been trapped in conversation with this idiot the whole time.”
“Trapped? That’s so mean Shoko,” Gojo plays up his hurt, sulking and giving her the saddest eyes he can muster. It unsurprisingly has no effect on her.
He’s here somewhere, you need to leave before he sees you. You’re so annoyed at yourself for not connecting that Gojo being here obviously meant Geto was going to be here too, especially since he wasn’t with you.
Spinning, you go for the front door you came through not that long ago, getting it open a crack before a hand above your head closes it. Turning around, you come face to face with Suguru, a very annoyed Suguru. Polite smile painted on his face but his eyebrow twitches slightly.
His weight supported by his hand on the door, leaning down to you, “And where are you going?”
“I was just gonna… head home… get an early night?” Looking away from him as you lie poorly, not able to look at him without thinking about how he kissed you.
He points out, “You just got here though.”
“Yeah, it’s just… not my scene…” In your defence, not a complete lie.
“Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.” He leans down to catch your eyes with his, sick of you avoiding eye contact.
You’re only able to look at him incrementally, eyes flicking from his, to the wall behind him, “No there’s no reason for me to be avoiding you, I don’t know why you would think that.”
“Oh good! That means you can stay then,” face scrunching with his – now – less than polite smile. Clearly growing frustrated with how you’re refusing to communicate with him properly.
You have no excuses to give, nothing good or even remotely believable anyways, “I uhh–”
Cutting you off to give an ultimatum, “–Either we’re leaving and talking like adults or you’re staying right here and suffering through this whole night with me right by your side.”
His choice in wording disgruntles you, locking eyes to say, “It doesn’t cause me suffering to be beside you, Suguru,” you want to make at least that much clear.
He gives you a tight-lipped smile, “Good. Then you won’t mind me not leaving your side.”
Weighing your options, you don’t know what would be better right now. On the one hand you’d get to leave but then you’d have to tell him about how much you’re affected by the line you crossed, about how you’re developing feelings for him that you shouldn’t have indulged in. On the other, you stay but he lingers around you all night and you’re left haunted by all the things you want to say but can’t quite bring yourself to.
“Let’s go back to everyone then,” you smile back at him.
His face drops, “You don’t wanna talk about it that bad?”
“Suguru, you’re looking for answers I don’t even know if I can give you.”
He relents and takes a step back from you, “Fine. But just so you know, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Waiting for you to want to talk first seems to be his main goal but you can see just how impatient he’s getting.
You ignore his comment and walk past him back to Gojo and Shoko in the other room, they’re both exactly where you left them. It’s awkward, for you anyways, you don’t know about them or everyone else here, but you feel awkward.
It carries on for the whole night, it’s been a couple hours now and Suguru is still just following you around wordlessly. Only speaking to others when spoken too, engaging in some conversation, only to cut it short when you move on.
This really isn’t fun for you, normally not even bothering to come to house parties like this and only doing this as a favour to Shoko but she’s gone home now, and you’re left here with just Geto. You’d leave too, but you have a feeling Geto is going to follow you home, or at the very least make you talk to him before you try leaving and you’re just… so not in the mood.
Sighing softly to yourself as you walk into the kitchen, somehow managing to shake your tail, for now. Taking the small reprieve as a chance to breathe and think, which is cut short when some stranger starts a conversation with you.
“Hi! You’re really hot, do you want a drink? I can make you a drink. I’ve never seen you here before and trust me – I’d remember you.” He’s slurring his words slightly, “So, drink? You wan– I can get you a–”
He’s really forward, and drunk, it’s making you uncomfortable, especially since you’re far to sober and far too annoyed to have to deal with drunk men. “–I’m good, thank you, I’m not drinking.”
“Oh, come on! Jus one drink, it’ll loosen you up,” he moves in to elbow your shoulder lightly, “You’re too hot to be– to be such a downer, maybe a smile would help.”
Completely unamused and slowly shuffling back away from him, “I think I’d prefer you just leave me alone; I’m not interested.”
“Don– don’t be like that,” he sulks at you.
Your back collides with someone’s front and looking up you can see it’s your missing stalker of the night. As annoyed at Geto as you are, you are endlessly thankful for his timing, physically feeling yourself relax now that he’s here.
Geto glares down at the pushy guy, “She’s not interested.”
“Oh man, I didn’t know she had– had a boyfriend, you know you should keep an eye on her,” the drunk idiot leers at you, “She’s kind of a tease, leading me on,” he shrugs.
Your face grimaces at his words and the way he eyes you, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Suguru moves in front of you, shielding you from him, his lip twitches at this guy’s words, “Excuse me?”
“No, well… I jus mean she didn’t tell me–”
“–She said she wasn’t interested, that was enough,” Geto’s tone is growing more irritated by the moment.
“Suguru, let’s just go, it’s fine,” you tug on the hem of his jacket, not really wanting to have to deal with the fallout of whatever may happen if this idiot keeps unwittingly provoking Geto. He tries his best, but he has a breaking point, and he tends to hit it pretty quick when you’re involved.
He glances back at you, “It’s not fine.”
“Okay, it’s not but I kinda can’t stand this guy and this party sucks and I’m annoyed, and I don’t wanna be here anymore,” you feel a little pathetic for whinging but you’re so drained and this guy was your breaking point.
All his attention drops from that guy to you, his hands coming up to either side of your face, taking in how tired you look. Thumbs stroking high on your cheekbones, “Alright, let’s leave.”
Relief in your bones at the fact you’re about to be gone from here, “Thank you.”
From behind Geto you can see the drunk take the opportunity to slip away, apparently smart enough to use this distraction to his advantage. If Geto notices, he doesn’t say anything, clearly done with him, all attention on you now.
He hums at you, asking, “How’d you get here?”
Your eyes flick back to his, “I didn’t drive, if that’s what you’re asking,” you took an uber, you thought you’d either catch a ride with Shoko, or you’d take another uber home.
“You’re riding with me then.” His large hand takes yours, “Come on,” he’s tugging you through the house behind him.
The car ride has been quiet, you can feel your head drooping and your eyes closing, very nearly falling asleep. That is until, you notice Geto isn’t taking you to your house, instead heading towards his.
Turning to face him, you ask, “Why are we going back to yours?”
Without turning to look at you, he replies, “Because you’ve been avoiding me, so I am now forcing you to spend time with me.”
He’s decidedly not funny. Sighing as you try to chide him, “Suguru–”
Finally glancing your way only to speak over you, “–Don’t ‘Suguru’ me, my place is closer and you’re tired, if you weren’t being so weird around me ever since I k–”
“–Shhh, be quiet.” Your cheeks suddenly feel warm at the memory of how insistent his kisses were.
“All I’m saying is, if you weren’t being so weird around me, you’d come back to mine tonight anyways.”
It’s frustrating to you that he’s right, you normally would just go back to his and crash in his bed and then you’d make him breakfast the next morning to make up for the fact that you’d taken up his whole bed.
The only thing you can think to say is a flat, “…Fine.” Crossing your arms and looking out the car window the rest of the short drive.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
Back at his apartment, he lends you some clothes to sleep in. It’s all incredibly intimate, showering in his bathroom, using the spare toothbrush you keep here, wearing his clothes, has your friendship always been this intimate or are you just looking at it in a new light.
Leaving his bathroom, you find him in his room, getting his bed ready for you to sleep in, you stand awkwardly at the foot of it, “I’ll just sleep on your couch.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you always sleep in the bed with me.”
“Yeah but…” Your brows settle into a deep frown, “Do you not feel weird?”
He drops the blanket back onto the bed, exasperation with you clear, “I said to you – I wouldn’t let it affect our friendship, and that’s what I’m doing.” Turning to look at you before adding, “You’re the one making it weird.”
“I know that…” You also know that you were the one who said you weren’t worried about him.
His arms are crossed as he looks you over, “I’m gonna shower now, you don’t have to sleep in the bed, but I think you should, you know firsthand how awful that couch is.”
“Go have your shower,” you shoo him out of the room, standing in the middle of it, alone, considering what you should do.
The couch really is atrocious, it’s part of the reason why you started sleeping in his bed when you visited. He always says he’ll get a nicer couch or a blow-up mattress for you, but he never does, and you always end up in his bed anyways.
Deciding you’re too drained to think any harder about all of this, you crawl into his bed and make yourself comfortable. Everything is so frustrating to you right now, have you always felt this confused about your friendship or were the lines blurred for so long that you’re having trouble understanding where you both stand.
The irony of the situation is annoying and almost laughable because if it were about anyone else you’d be hitting up Geto and asking for his advice on it all.
When he comes back into the room, he shuffles around a bit before turning off the lights and getting into bed beside you. You’re lying on your side with your back to him, pretending to already be asleep.
His voice cuts through the quiet of the room, “I miss you.”
Your reaction to it is almost visceral, how are you meant to reply to that. It doesn’t help you feel better at all, only leaving you longing for something you don’t know if you’re allowed to claim.
Your friendship has always been on a precarious ledge but it’s only now that you let yourself acknowledge the disgusting depth of your feelings for him.
You mumble into the pillow, “I’m right here.”
“Then why do you feel so far away?”
Readjusting, you rotate so you’re facing him, not completely prepared for him to already be facing you. Propped up on his elbow, closer than your poor heart was ready for. You lower your head, so you don’t have to look at his face, “I wasn’t purposefully ignoring you, I really did want to reply.”
He pushes, “So why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t know what to say…”
“What can I do to help?” He lowers himself down to your level, head on his bicep.
You still avoid his gaze, “Nothing, you can’t do anything.”
“You’re being–”
“–You are the problem, Suguru, there is nothing you can do to help but get out of my head,” you meet his eyes, frown prominent on your face, “You and your stupid kiss, you made it all a thousand times worse for me.”
“Making out with me was so life changing that you can’t get it out of your head, and you’re annoyed at me for that? You’re the one who wanted to know what it was like.” He’s trying to keep his tone light-hearted but he’s struggling, seemingly growing more irritated by it all.
You grumble at him, discontent, “You don’t need to point out the obvious, stupid.”
A noise of disagreement comes from him, “Well, I feel like I kinda do, since you’re overreacting.”
“I am not overreacting.”
“You are though.”
“No because it’s not just…” you stop short, “…Whatever, I’m going to sleep so be quiet.” He smiles at you like you’re completely endearing, which only frustrates you further.
“The only reason you would be this annoyed is because you want to kiss me again, or more…” his hand reaches for your chin and tilts your head up towards him, “You tell me, are you still curious?”
“Shut up,” you huff out, going to move away only for his hand to slide to your cheek, holding you still.
“You haven’t asked me, you know.”
“What?”
“What if I want to kiss you again? What if I want to do more?” His forehead rests against yours, “You’ve been so caught up in your own head, acting like an idiot over this, that you’ve not even asked yourself about what I want.”
“I am not an idiot.”
“No, but you’ve certainly been acting like one.” His hand slides from your face, down the side of your body, landing on your hip. “At first I thought it was cute, the curiosity, the unawareness,” his hand tugs you in closer to him, body against yours. “But now… now I’m growing impatient.”
Your head feels fuzzy, pressed up against him and that seems to be the only thing your brain is processing right now, “I’m confused.”
“It’s really quite simple,” he leans in, lips ghosting against yours.
You want so badly to kiss him, breath catching in your chest at the way his lips tickle against yours. Your attention solely on the way he might kiss you.
“You like me, and while it’s endearing to watch you fumble your way through the realisation, it’s killing me to know you’re all caught up on how I kissed you and not even being able to get in contact with you.”
“What? What?” Your brain takes a second to catch up, “I do not– you can’t know– just– what?”
“I can know, you know how? Because you’re painfully obvious about it. So honest, telling me about how you’re thinking of me, not able to look at me without looking at my lips,” a light laugh leaves him at your expression, “And it’s sweet, really. But I’m getting annoyed by the fact that you’re so obsessed with your own feelings that you’ve failed to consider mine.”
He’s giving you so much whiplash right now, “You–”
“–You think I kissed you like that just ‘cause?” He frowns at you, “I kissed you like that because I wanted to, I feel I was a little obvious about it all actually.”
“I’ve been so worried about ruining our friendship,” you feel so pathetic when you say it.
“I know,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “But I’ve hoped for nothing more.” He sighs, “I wanted you to come to me on your own, to talk to me about it but instead you hid from me.”
“What was I supposed to think? Through my eyes, I was stupid and asked you to kiss me just because I was thinking about it, only to not stop thinking about it, and then realise I like you, my friend.” You pull back from him slightly, “How was I meant to talk to you about it?”
“You think I’d kiss just any friend because they simply wondered about what it would be like?” his brow lifts at you, “Don’t you think our friendship has always been a little too intimate to just be a friendship?”
“Nothing was ever said… how was I supposed to know?”
“Okay, well, let me be perfectly clear,” he tugs you in close again, eyes meeting yours, like he’s going to say something incredibly important, only to plant his lips on yours in a full kiss.
Hand holding you to him tight, like he needs you to stay pressed up against him. His mouth on yours hot and consuming, kiss messy, tongue licking at yours. An involuntary moan gets caught in your chest and your hand moves to his hair, tangling in it.
Parting to pant out, “I like you–” kissing you again, “I like kissing you–” lips desperate against yours, “I want to do so much more–” he never parts from you long at all, barley willing to but needing to get his words out.
This is a feeling that you’re never going to be able to forget, the first time he kissed you overwhelming enough and now it’s like he’s completely following his instinct. No critical thinking happening in his head or yours. All your thoughts wash away from you, slipping through your fingers before it even occurs to you to form a thought.
Less scared now, throwing caution to the wind, not worrying about how you should stop, how you can’t ruin the fragility of your friendship. It doesn’t matter anymore, not when he already knows how you feel, not when he seems to feel the same, not when it feels this good.
He mumbles against you, “That clear enough?”
“No,” you huff back, “I think… I’m still a little confused.”
“Well, in that case,” he smirks before kissing you again.
Hand moving to your thigh, sliding it across your skin before grabbing at your knee and crooking your leg to rest on his hip. Leaning into you slightly, using his weight to push back on you, rolling the pair of you until he’s on top. Forearm holding himself over you, other hand still on your knee, holding you flush to him.
You gasp up at him when his erection ruts into your core, lips parting messily, spit connecting the two of you. A shudder runs down his spine when he looks down at you, at how you’re looking up at him. All big, wet eyes and kiss swollen lips, it’s like he feels all his insides softening for you in that moment, in the most sickeningly affectionate way.
His eyes suddenly look lost, and you don’t know why, going to say something only for his lips to land on yours again. Short, firm kisses planted on your lips over and over again, barely able to return them before he’s pulling back, just to do it again.
It’s sweet but it’s frustrating you, your hands are eventually grabbing at either side of his face and forcing his mouth onto yours, lips meshing together, kissing him fully. Tongue in his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. He moans at how you’rekissing him, at how both your legs are now wrapped around his waist.
Practically clinging to him, lips locked to his, your need making your body hot and head fuzzy. You’re trying so hard to not come across desperate for him, but you really can’t help the way your hips seek out his, grinding up into him.
His voice shakes with a moan, breaking the kiss, “–Ohh fuck – hah –” a breathless kind of laugh leaving him, "A little eager, aren’t you?"
"Should we stop then?” You ask with a smile, hands untangling and pushing at his shoulders.
He rushes out, “No no, I didn’t say that,” he pulls your arms, so they’re wrapped around his neck again, “Come back,” a light laugh leaves him, pressing kisses all over your face, lingering on your lips.
“So… you don’t want to stop?”
“Absolutely not, be as needy as you want,” he looks down between where his hips are resting against yours, his cock twitching in his pants, “Hell… be needier.”
“I don’t know… maybe this is all happening too fast,” you say it light heartedly, teasing him, “I mean… we are just friends.”
“Just friends?” He takes personal issue with that, even if he can tell you’re goading him, “Just friends but you’re grinding your pussy all over me?” His hand slips into the front of your borrowed sleep shorts, two fingers rubbing between your folds over your panties.
Gasp leaving you, chest stuttering, “S-Suguru, I–”
“Letting your friend touch you like this, hmm?” He pulls your panties to the side, “Fuck– this wet for your friend?”
Your back arches against the bed when his fingers slip over your clit, struggling to get your words out, “I– mmph– I get it, m’sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” He smiles sweetly at you but two of his fingers are slipping inside you, quirking up and rubbing at just the right spot.
God, your eyes roll into the back of your head, cunt pulsing around his fingers so needily. Hands grabbing at him, tangling in his long hair, gasping for air you don’t really need but feeling like you can’t breathe from how he’s touching you.
“What are you sorry for, pretty?” He wants you back on track, he wants to hear you stumble out your apology to him.
“I-I’m sorry – hnnn – f-for…” your mouth drops open in a moan when his thumb rubs at your clit, “You’re not jus– you’re not just my friend – oh! You’re more– you mean more– Ah! Ah!” You can’t think, not when he adds another finger to your pussy, stretching you so open.
He leans in, fingers not stopping, “You mean it?”
It’s a question made to tease you but with your gooey brain, you look up at him so earnestly and answer, “Mhm, yeah.” Nodding your head firmly at him, even when your eyes look so fucked out.
Soft squelching noises fill the room with how his fingers fuck into you, your cunt clamping tight down around them. Walls so hot and wet that it’s driving him crazy, imagining how it would feel to have you wrapped so snug around his neglected cock.
He wants so badly to rip off your pants, so he can see just how well you’re taking his fingers but you’re pulsing so rhythmically around him, and your eyes roll with how good you feel, making the nicest expressions for him that he can’t even tear his eyes away from your face if he wanted to.
“Oh, you’re really cute right now,” he leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, his heart stammering at how your wet eyes sparkle at him, at how your bottom lip wobbles.
Pouting up at him, “You don’t– ah! think– think I’m cute all the time?”
“I think you’re downright adorable all the time,” he laughs airily, “But especially right now,” he’s gazing so intently at your face, “Because, I’m pretty sure…” his thumb speeds up on your clit, “…You’re about to cum all over my fingers.”
Oh, how his words effect you so deeply, his tone, the cockiness and if he weren’t touching you so right you wouldn’t find it as arousing as you do but you feel like you could cry from just how overwhelming it all is.
Shaking your head at him as if to say ‘no, you’re not about to cum.’
“No?” He pouts at you mockingly, “You sure?”
Denying it really doesn’t get you anywhere, especially since he can feel how you tighten around his fingers, how your gooey cunt pulses for him. Your back arching meanly, legs wanting so badly to kick against the air. Hand tugging at his hair as you gasp, broken moans leaving you.
“I mustn’t be doing this right then,” he hums at you in thought, slowing his movements slightly, “Should I stop then? Change up what I’m doing?”
The thought of him stopping now, or changing what he’s doing kills you, almost literally. Your eyes widen and you shake your head vehemently at him, “Don’t stop– hnn– don’t– please,” begging him with your eyes.
“Only ‘cause you begged so nicely,” his tone so sweet on you.
He doesn’t change anything, keeps fucking you with his fingers in the way that’s driving you crazy. His mouth waters at how your pussy gushes for him, dick leaking into his pants, losing his fucking mind at how he’s able to finally touch you like this, how you’re letting him touch you like this, even begging for it.
Muscles pulling taut, hearing and sight going fuzzy, “I– ohh– Sugu I can’t– I’m gonna–”
“You can,” dragging it out in a singsong, “Doing so well for me, pretty.”
Biting on your lip to hold back all the moans tumbling from them, hands pulling at him as you struggle to breathe through it. Chest stuttering as your cunt clamps down around his fingers, pulling him closer to you and planting your lips on his, desperately kissing him as you cum all over his fingers. Tongue licking into his mouth, his own moans spilling into the kiss.
Panting against your open mouth to say, “Just came all over your friends’ fingers,” his smile taunting and bright.
Your head lolls to the side, “So you really do just like teasing me, huh?”
“Pretty sure I said I couldn’t help it,” his fingers slip from your core, sucking them into his mouth, licking them clean in a display so obscene that your skin feels warm.
If he were a lesser man, he’d cum from licking himself clean, groaning around his fingers, mostly for himself but also somewhat to embarrass you. Loving how you squirm, and your face pulls up in embarrassment. All dazed and stupid looking from your orgasm, it makes his heart skip and his dick jerk.
You shock him when you tug your shirt up and over your head, moving to pull at his but he’s too distracted by your tits to make any move other than to lean down and press wet kisses all over your chest.
“Suguru– hah– your shirt,” your fingers still pull at the fabric.
“You can’t–” he sucks and licks at your nipple, relishing in the reactions and sounds he’s pulling from you, “–You can’t show me your tits and expect me to not touch them.”
When he looks up at you, his eyes are lazy and dazed, his tongue drooling all over your boobs. Moving to plant more firm and wet kisses all over your unbelievably soft skin, sucking to leave behind his mark. Wanting to leave behind marks that he will see when he wakes up tomorrow, marks that he will leave marks over so that they never go away, so he will always have evidence of how he touched you. Of how you let him touch you.
Groping at all your exposed skin, pulling at you, fingers tugging at your nipple, while he salivates all over the other one. Your legs tug his hips down into yours, rubbing your clothed cunt all over him, wanting him to fuck you so badly. He’s working you up so unfairly, already making you cum and then playing with your tits in a way that has you itching to be full of his dick.
“Suguru,” he ruts his hips back down into you but doesn’t remove his mouth from you, so you pull at his hair harshly, “Please.”
He moans at how you pull at him, eyes lidded, “So demanding.”
“You’re taking too long.”
He tuts at you, nipping lightly at the skin between your tits, “You’re just impatient.”
“Yeah, I am,” untangling your legs from him, you shuffle your shorts and panties down and off your body, “Are you going to help?”
“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The desire to lick at your pussy, make out with your cunt, is huge but with how you look at him, so needy and impatient, he needs to shove his dick in you. Now.
When you go to tug at his shirt, he lets you, letting you pull it off him completely, goose bumps breaking out across his skin with how you rake your nails delicately over him. The affection he holds for you feels like it grows tenfold at how you look at him, how tenderly you touch him.
“You’re so pretty,” you’re mumbling it out at him before you’re really registering that you’ve thought it, let alone spoke it.
His head drops into the crook of your neck, “So sweet on me, got me forgetting why I waited so long to say anything.”
You grin at him, “Because you’re stupid.”
“Oh, that’s right,” he sneers back at you before shuffling back to pull his pants off. Finding immense joy in how your smug little smile drops from your face when his cock is free, tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking profusely, precum dribbling down the sides of his dick.
Moving to get up before even really thinking about it, wanting to touch him. Only to fall into the pillows when his large hand pushes you back by your sternum. Looking to him just as he leans in, lips brushing yours so softly you’d think you’d imagined it if he didn’t immediately follow it up with a firm kiss.
“I want to touch you,” hands already finding their way back to his shoulders, his long hair tickling against skin.
His head is dipping low to watch how he moves his hands down your body, brushing against your inner thighs, opening your legs for him more, “Well, I want to fuck you.” He’s not capable of taking his eyes off your gooey cunt, so wet for him.
Goading him with your words, “What are you waiting for? A formal invitation?”
“Sharp tongue for someone so sensitive,” he muses, fingers slipping through your folds, gently over your clit to make you jolt, as if to prove his point.
Not giving you a chance to say another snarky comment, his fingers dipping into your hole again, fingers stretching you open obscenely, pulling back covered in cum from your previous orgasm and fresh slick. It’s almost embarrassing how soaked you are, at least it would be if he didn’t seem almost overjoyed at the sight.
His hand covered in your mess moves to his dick, stroking himself, lubing himself so you can take him easier. Wanting to rub your thighs together, to squirm at how he languidly pumps at his cock, how his brows upturn and his mouth gapes slightly.
Palm warm against your inner thigh, holding you still, moving so he can tap his dick against your clit, smiling at how your body jerks.
“Don’t be a tease,” your hand moves for his, but he grabs at you before you reach him, looping his fingers with yours.
His tone is cheerful and bright, “But you look so cute when you’re frustrated.”
“I’ll leave,” you threaten, not even a little convincingly, way too horny to be taken seriously.
“Really?” He raises a brow at you, intrigued, “I don’t think you’d get very far,” mocking pout settling on his features.
Nothing if not stubborn and true to your word, you push him back and roll to get out of the bed defiantly. Barely making it to the edge of the mattress when his hands are on your sides and manhandling you back into your previous position. Spreading your legs wide and rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds, just dipping into your hole before repeating the previous movements.
Biting his lower lip as he watches, his precum smearing all over your messy cunt, “Told you, you wouldn’t get very far.”
Your head rolls at how he dips his dick in more, beginning to stretch you open, his hips stuttering forwards, hand slapping down onto the bed beside you to stop himself from pushing you too far.
“Oh– oh– fuck! How– h-how are you this tight, oh,” breathless not even beginning to describe how fucked out he already sounds.
“M-more, Sugu, please– I–”
At your insistence, he fucks himself all the way in, holding his hips to yours as he fills you to the hilt. Your pussy spasming and creaming around him, so worked up that he can feel just how aroused you are in the way you twitch, at how your fingers grab at his skin, how your breath is uneven and broken.
He can’t help but marvel at how you let out little squealed moans, how your cunt stretches to take all of him. On cloud nine at how you’re so horny over how heavy he’s sitting inside you that you’re close to tears.
The moan he lets out is debauched, unbelievably turned on when your hips struggle to grind down into him needily, working yourself up to an orgasm so fucking fast that he can’t do anything but watch in awe.
You can’t stop yourself, you know you should, should slow down and maybe calm down but it feels so good. He’s so big inside you, his cock pulsing in a way that has you memorising the thumping rhythm. Not usually so eager, never this eager, enthusiastically rutting down into him over and over again before suddenly cumming all over him.
Choked and gasped moans pulled from you as your hands reach for him, hoping for him to let you tug him down into you but he’s too busy watching how you pulse and cum all over him. Obsessed with how your cute, little cunt struggles with his size as you coat him in all your creamy cum.
“Holy fuck,” he laughs, “That was–”
Head dizzy and eyes lazy as you whinge at him, “–Don’t– don’t say anything.”
“You came as soon as I got inside you and you expect me to make no comment?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“I think it was adorable,” he hums, voice strained, much more effected by it than he’s willing to let on.
You whine when he leans down into you, cock somehow reaching deeper. Geto’s arms cage you in either side your head, resting on his forearms, his lips against yours in a breathless kiss. Beginning shallow thrusts, his lips insistent on yours, fucking you so carefully for now.
Quickly, the need to have him fucking you stupid grows within you again and your legs loop around him properly, pulling him into you, wrapping yourself around him, mouth panting against his.
“Fuck– hah– you’re so wet,” he’s fucking into you faster, hips becoming desperate, “It’s actually– it’s– hnn– it’s crazy how good you feel,” he moves his head to the crook of your neck, growling beside your ear, “such a soaked little cunt, taking it so– ohh– taking it so good.”
“Ah! Ah! Sugu, it’s– ohh– it’s– more– I need more,” your fingers dig into his back, depraved wet sloshing sounds of him fucking into you so well fill the room.
He nips at your neck, “Demanding little thing aren’t you?”
He’s pulling out of you and the moan you let out is small and pathetic, disgruntled by his abrupt movement. The last thing you see is his smug grin before he’s flipping you over onto your stomach, hands pulling your hips up and pushing on your upper back, manoeuvring your body into an obscene arch.
Taking his sweet time to slip back inside, eyeing up your pussy and how your hole trembles and drools for him. Your hips wriggle back at him and he finds himself incredibly amused at how blatantly needy you are, apparently honest with him in more ways than one.
Just as you were about to turn around and complain at how long he’s taking to re-enter you, he’s shoving his cock back in all at once, jolting your body up the bed and forcing a moan out from your lungs.
“Ohh– Sugu– I…” you trail off as his hips pick up, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Sliding your legs further apart to take more of him inside, arching yourself even more, greedy cunt sucking him deep inside. He’s barely able to withdraw before you’re fucking your hips back into him, desperately driving back, so fucking needy that if you had half your mind you’d be embarrassed but right now all you can think about is how his dick thumps against your walls, how his hands grip onto you tight, probably leaving behind marks to match the ones he left all over your tits.
Mouth gaping open, spit pooling onto the pillow below, drooling over his cock, God, you could cry from just how fucking good it feels. Pussy spasming wildly around him, the more you think about the fact that he’s fucking you, the more worked up you get. Insides flipping at how he seems to touch the most perfect spots inside you, full of butterflies and him.
His mouth by your ear shocks you, his voice chirpy, “What are you – hah – thinking about, pretty?”
“A-about how goo– good it feels, feels– ohh– feels so good, Sugu,” your words are slurred, mind reeling at how he doesn’t even seem to slow his pace.
“Flatterer,” he barks out a laugh, “You’re quite the little charmer,” he mockingly compliments, tongue licking meanly at your salty tears that you hadn’t realised you’d shed.
“Shh– shut up– ah!” gasping when he gives a particularly mean thrust into you.
He can’t help but smile at the fucked out look you’re wearing, eyes rolled back, dazed and not comprehending anything other than his dick rubbing up against your walls so perfectly. Your face turns into the pillow and you bite at it, muscles pulling tight as another orgasm crawls up your spine.
It shocks you, how quickly you cum, Suguru’s harsh thrusts, your ass burning with the smack of his pelvis against you. The sting biting at your flesh making you feel like you’re on fire, cunt tight around him and orgasm overcoming you so fast that you don’t have time to prepare for it.
And maybe if he hadn’t been caught up in how deliciously you squeeze around him, he’d have time to realise you were coming again and he could stop himself but when you shock the both of you with your sudden orgasm he whines into your back and cums deep inside you. Shivers running down his spine at how it feels, dumping so much deep inside you that the force of his continued thrusts has some of it leaking from you back onto him and down onto the bed, making the obscenest mess he’s ever seen.
Immediately he’s pulling himself back up to see how he’s coated your walls white, his dick covered in your shared cum, creamy and lewd and he’s not even going soft because how could he when you’re still wrapped so warmly around him and when you’re so fucking gooey and snug. He might die before he’s done fucking you yet and he can’t even find it in himself to care even a little bit.
You’re not capable of forming words together enough to think of making a sentence, only thing coming from you being your garbled, choked moans and the sounds of your plushy cunt struggling to take him and all his cum. Pussy bulging with the weight of his cock and the mass amounts of seed he’s just pumped you full of.
His own eyes are lidded and low, pussy drunk and loving every second of it, “So turned on you couldn’t even warn me before you came,” he bites out.
His hand rounds your body and his fingers land on your clit, the overstimulation too much, one of your own hands moving down to try and pry it away, managing to squeak out, “T-too much– ah! Too much, Sugu.”
Tone light when his harsh words are mumbled back at you, “If it’s too much, then why – hnn – why are you fucking back onto me like such a slut?”
He’s so mean, so mean to you while he fucks you so… meanly. Head whirling over how he speaks to you, not even able to think long before he slaps your clit harshly and your knees buckle, falling into the mattress under him. His dick slipping from you as you collapse into the mattress.
Geto doesn’t pick you back up straight away, oh no, because you’re leaking all of his cum out of your little hole onto the bed and he can’t take his eyes off of how much cum he managed to get inside you. It’s you who picks your hips up lazily, presenting yourself for him.
He chuckles at your loyalty to his cock, but he also can’t help the way the sight makes him twitch. Shoving his dick into you again, feral in his pursuit to fuck you, to fuck you full of more of his cum.
“S-so devoted– hnnn– doing such– hah– a good job for me, pretty,” he slurs.
You feel like you might pass out, so lightheaded but meeting each and every one of his thrusts all the same. An arm wrapping around your front pulls your back to his chest, both his hands landing on your tits, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples, making your pussy shudder around him.
You want to fuck your hips back recklessly but not able to with this angle, only able to arch further and give shallow grinds while he fucks his hips into you. He plants kisses and bites along your neck, nipping your skin hard enough that you twitch and whine each time he does it.
One hand leaves your tit and trails down your front, going for your cunt, spreading wide around where he’s stuffing you full continuously. Getting an absolute mess all over his hand and fingers, only to shove those fingers into your mouth, leaving you to lick him clean. Crammed full by his dick and fingers at once, convulsing around him at the thought of it, at the reality of it.
“You like being stuffed full, huh?” He muses to you, an evil kind of joy in his tone. You don’t get to choose your own response, he’s already using the fingers he has in your mouth to nod your head yes, “Ah, thought so.”
Pulling his fingers from your mouth slowly to watch how you suck on them as he does, before he’s wiping all your spit down your chest to your tummy. And then he has another hand on the back of your neck and is pushing you down into the pillows again, this time he keeps his hand there while he fucks into you diabolically.
Somehow faster than before, relentless, reaching his own end and wanting you to cum all over him at least once more. Head dipping back as he groans out, thrusts harsh and calculated, hitting all the spots he’s just learnt about, having memorised just how to make you fucking squirm for him.
Which he succeeds in, if he didn’t have the hand on the back of your neck, you would’ve crawled up the bed to try and get away from his evil thrusts. Poor abused pussy creaming around him for the fourth time, orgasm blinding you, only seeing white spots behind your eyelids.
The sounds he lets out are wrecked and beautiful and have you wishing that you weren’t cumming so violently if only to see the way he’s spilling inside you for the second time tonight.
“That’s it– fuck– take it– taking it so fucking well– holy fuck–” every word he utters is breathless and broken, essentially fucking himself stupid too.
Taking a moment for himself to catch his breath before he’s slipping from you and pulling your ass cheeks apart to watch how his cum dribbles from your overfilled cunt. You try to wiggle away but he holds you steady, eyes trained on your dipping hole, overcome with the desire to fuck his tongue inside you but instead settling for shoving two fingers inside, plugging your hole to keep his cum in.
You whine at him, and he can only chuckle and find you incredibly cute in your post orgasm bliss. Barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone speak right now.
He does eventually pull his fingers from you, wiping the mess on your thighs before turning you onto your back. It feels like you’re looking up at an angel as he looks down at you, or maybe the devil, all flush and sweet smiles, too sweet for a man that just fucked you within an inch of your life.
“Y-you can’t smile at me like that, not after you almost killed me,” you babble back at him.
He rolls his eyes at you, “There you go overreacting again.”
“You fuck so mean, Sugu,” you accuse… accurately.
A smile grows on his face again, “Feels real good though, doesn’t it?”
You weakly slap at him, he just grabs your hand and tugs your body into his kneeling form, hugging you to him. Pressing kisses all over your face, “Think you can stand long enough to shower?”
Shaking your head at him, “Not without fainting.”
“Alright, bath it is,” he concludes.
He takes such nice care of you afterwards, a complete contrast to how he fucked you. It’s lovely though, the hands that grabbed and pulled at you now delicate as they trace over your skin, washing you clean.
You rest with your back to his front in the bath, head laying lazily on his chest, “So… for the sake of clarity, we’re not just friends?”
His lips tickle against the tip of your ear, “I can fuck you all over again if you need more proof?”
“I fear you might actually kill me.”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it,” he presses a single kiss against your cheek.
In the morning, for the first time ever, he makes you breakfast, to make up for all the marks he’s littered your body with. He also officially asks you on a date, which you pretend to think really hard about even though you’d already decided you were going to say yes.
In the end, being friends with Geto Suguru wasn’t hard… it’s just not what you both wanted.
𝐀/𝐍: this was a while in the making and the vibes of it changed so many times throughout 😭 it was supposed to be situationship but i fear i'm not well versed enough in what exactly one is to write about it properly.... anyways ! i hope you enjoyed regardless and thank you for reading !!! <3
[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
#visionwrites#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#geto suguru smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x reader smut#suguru geto x reader smut#suguru smut#geto smut#geto x reader smut#suguru x reader smut#jjk x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader
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Your Love Is My Drug
Oscar Piastri x Norris!Reader
Summary: Lando’s teammate is behaving strangely, so of course the logical assumption is that Oscar must be on drugs (the truth ends up being so much worse … for Lando)
The McLaren garage buzzes with activity as mechanics scurry about, preparing for the upcoming race weekend. Lando leans against the wall, his brow furrowed in concentration as he observes his teammate from across the room.
Something’s off about Oscar today. Actually, if Lando’s being honest with himself, something’s been off about Oscar for weeks now. The usually composed Aussie seems ... different.
Fidgety.
Distracted.
As if on cue, Oscar lets out another of those odd little giggles he’s been prone to lately. Lando’s eyes narrow.
“Oi, Piastri!” He calls out, striding over to where Oscar is hunched over his phone. “What’s so funny, mate?”
Oscar’s head snaps up, his cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Oh, uh, nothing,” he stammers, hastily shoving his phone into his pocket. “Just ... just a meme.”
Lando raises an eyebrow. “A meme? Since when are you so into memes?”
“I’ve always liked memes,” Oscar protests weakly.
“Right,” Lando drawls, unconvinced. He watches as Oscar shifts uncomfortably, tugging at the waistband of his jeans.
A sudden, horrifying thought strikes Lando. No ... it couldn’t be. Could it?
“Hey, Oscar,” he says slowly, trying to keep his tone casual. “You feeling alright? You’ve seemed a bit ... off lately.”
Oscar’s eyes widen slightly. “Off? What do you mean?”
Lando shrugs, aiming for nonchalance. “I dunno, just ... different. Distracted. You keep laughing at nothing and your face is all red.”
“Oh, that’s ... that’s nothing,” Oscar says, waving a hand dismissively. “Just, uh, excited about the race, I guess.”
Lando’s not buying it. “Excited, huh? Is that why you keep fidgeting with your pants, too?”
Oscar freezes, his hand stilling where it had been absently adjusting his waistband. “I ... what?”
“Your jeans,” Lando repeats, gesturing towards Oscar’s lower half. “You keep messing with them. What’s that about?”
“Nothing!” Oscar yelps, a bit too quickly. “They’re just ... new. Still breaking them in.”
Lando’s eyes narrow further. He remembers something, vaguely, from one of the few health lessons he’d managed to stay awake for back in school. Something about drug users and fidgeting ...
No. Surely not. Not Oscar.
But the more Lando thinks about it, the more it starts to make a twisted kind of sense. The secrecy, the mood swings, the constant flush on Oscar’s cheeks ...
“Oscar,” Lando says, his voice low and serious. “I need you to be honest with me. Are you ... are you on something?”
Oscar’s jaw drops. “What? No! Of course not!”
“Because if you are,” Lando presses on, ignoring Oscar’s protests, “I need to know. As your teammate. As your friend. This isn’t just about you, mate. It’s about the whole team.”
“Lando, I swear, I’m not on anything,” Oscar insists, his voice taking on a pleading edge. “I don’t know where you’re getting this idea from, but-”
“Then explain the giggling!” Lando demands, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “And the blushing! And the fidgeting! Something’s clearly going on with you, and if you’re not gonna be straight with me-”
“I can’t!” Oscar bursts out, then immediately claps a hand over his mouth, looking stricken.
Lando’s eyes widen. “Can’t what?”
Oscar shakes his head, looking miserable. “I can’t ... I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, Lando. I know I’ve been acting weird, but I promise it’s nothing bad. I’m not on drugs or anything like that. I just ... I can’t explain right now.”
Lando stares at his teammate, torn between frustration and concern. “Oscar, come on. We’re supposed to be friends. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Oscar’s phone chimes, and he jumps, fumbling to pull it out of his pocket. His eyes widen as he reads whatever message has just come through, and a small, dopey smile spreads across his face.
“Sorry,” he says distractedly, already typing out a response. “I’ve gotta go. We’ll talk later, yeah?”
Before Lando can protest, Oscar is hurrying out of the garage, leaving Lando staring after him in bewilderment.
“What the hell was that about?” Lando mutters to himself.
He’s still pondering Oscar’s strange behavior when his own phone buzzes. It’s a message from you.
Hey! Surprise — I’m at the track! Want to grab dinner?
Lando grins, momentarily distracted from his worries about Oscar. Absolutely, he types back. Meet you at the hotel in a few hours?
Later that evening, Lando’s sitting in the hotel restaurant, drumming his fingers impatiently on the table as he waits for you to arrive. His mind keeps drifting back to Oscar’s odd behavior, and he’s half-tempted to text you and ask if you’ve noticed anything strange about his teammate lately.
Before he can act on the impulse, you breeze into the restaurant, a bright smile on your face. “Lando!” You exclaim, rushing over to give him a hug.
“Hey, trouble,” Lando says fondly, returning the embrace. “What brings you to the race? I thought you were busy with work.”
You shrug, sliding into the seat across from him. “Oh, you know, just missed my second favorite brother. Thought I’d surprise you.”
Lando narrows his eyes playfully. “I finally won a race and I’m still not your favorite?”
“You can’t win everything,” you say with a grin. “Wouldn’t want your head getting any bigger than it already is.”
As you settle in and start perusing the menu, Lando can’t help but notice that you seem ... different. There’s a certain glow about you, a sparkle in your eye that he hasn’t seen before.
“You look happy,” he observes. “Something good happen at work?”
You bite your lip, looking suddenly nervous. “Oh, um, not really. Just ... life in general, I guess.”
Lando’s about to press further when his phone buzzes. He glances down to see a message from Oscar.
Hey, mate. Sorry about earlier. Can we talk?
Lando frowns, torn between his curiosity about Oscar’s situation and his desire to spend time with you.
“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing his expression.
Lando sighs. “I don’t know. It’s Oscar. He’s been acting really weird lately, and I’m worried about him.”
Your eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Weird how?”
“Just ... off,” Lando says, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s all giggly and distracted, his face is constantly red, and he keeps fidgeting with his clothes. I’m worried he might be ... you know ...”
You lean forward, your brow furrowed in concern. “Might be what?”
Lando lowers his voice, glancing around to make sure no one’s listening. “On drugs,” he whispers.
To his surprise, you burst out laughing. “Oscar? On drugs? Are you serious?”
“It’s not funny!” Lando hisses, feeling defensive. “I’m really worried about him. He won’t tell me what’s going on, but something clearly is.”
You sober quickly, reaching across the table to pat his hand. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s not funny. But Lando, I really don’t think Oscar’s on drugs. Maybe there’s another explanation?”
“Like what?” Lando demands.
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, Lando’s phone buzzes again. Another message from Oscar.
I’m in the lobby. Can we talk now? It’s important.
Lando looks up at you apologetically. “It’s Oscar again. He says he needs to talk. Do you mind if I ...”
You wave a hand, looking strangely nervous. “No, no, go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
Lando nods gratefully and heads for the lobby, his mind racing. What could be so important that Oscar needs to talk right now?
He spots his teammate pacing near the elevators, looking agitated. “Oscar?” He calls out.
Oscar’s head snaps up, and Lando is struck again by the flush on his cheeks. “Lando! Thanks for coming. I ... I need to tell you something.”
Lando crosses his arms, trying to look stern despite his worry. “Yeah, I’d say you do. What’s going on with you, mate? And don’t try to tell me it’s nothing, because-”
“I’m dating your sister!” Oscar blurts out.
Lando blinks, certain he must have misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
Oscar takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “I’m dating your sister,” he repeats, more slowly this time. “Y/N. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now.”
Lando’s mind goes blank. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. No sound comes out.
“I know it’s a shock,” Oscar continues, words tumbling out in a rush. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We wanted to make sure it was serious before we said anything. But I really care about her, Lando. And I hope ... I hope you can be okay with this.”
Lando’s brain is still struggling to process this information. “But ... but the giggling,” he manages to stammer out. “And the blushing. And the fidgeting.”
Oscar’s blush deepens. “Ah, yeah. That’s ... that’s because of Y/N. She’s been sending me these ... messages. And pictures. Really cute ones!” He adds hastily, seeing Lando’s eyes widen in horror. “Nothing inappropriate! Just ... you know. Flirty.”
Lando holds up a hand, feeling slightly nauseous. “Please, I really don’t need details.”
“Right, sorry,” Oscar says sheepishly. “Anyway, that’s why I’ve been acting weird. I was trying to keep it a secret, but I guess I’m not very good at hiding how I feel.”
Lando’s head is spinning. His teammate and his little sister. Dating. It’s too much to process.
“Lando?” Oscar’s voice sounds concerned. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”
Lando opens his mouth to respond, but the world suddenly tilts sideways. The last thing he hears before everything goes black is Oscar’s panicked voice calling his name.
When Lando comes to, he’s lying on a couch in the hotel lobby, with you and Oscar hovering anxiously over him.
“Oh thank god,” you breathe as his eyes flutter open. “Lando, are you okay?”
Lando groans, pushing himself into a sitting position. “What happened?”
“You fainted,” Oscar supplies helpfully. “Right after I told you about ... you know.”
The memory comes flooding back, and Lando groans again, this time for an entirely different reason. “So it wasn’t a dream, then? You two are really ...”
You nod, looking nervous but determined. “We are. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We wanted to make sure it was, you know, real first.”
Lando looks between the two of you, taking in Oscar’s anxious expression and the way your hand is clasped tightly in his. Despite his shock, he can’t deny the genuine affection he sees there.
“Well,” he says finally, his voice rough. “I suppose this is better than you being on drugs.”
Oscar lets out a startled laugh. “You really thought I was on drugs?”
Lando shrugs defensively. “What was I supposed to think? You were acting so weird!”
“That’s just because he’s head over heels for me,” you say teasingly, bumping Oscar’s shoulder with your own.
Oscar grins dopily, and Lando has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Clearly,” he mutters.
There’s a moment of awkward silence before you speak up again. “So ... are you okay with this? Us being together?”
Lando looks at you, his beloved little sister, then at Oscar, his teammate and friend. He sees the happiness radiating from both of you, the way you lean into each other unconsciously.
He sighs dramatically. “I suppose I’ll have to be,” he says, unable to keep a small smile from tugging at his lips. “But I swear, Piastri, if you hurt her-”
“I won’t,” Oscar interrupts, his voice firm and sincere. “I promise, Lando. I’ll take good care of her.”
Lando nods, satisfied for now. “Good. And for the love of all that is holy, please keep the flirting to a minimum around me. I really don’t need to see that.”
You and Oscar laugh, the tension finally breaking. As Lando watches the two of you together, he can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this might not be such a bad thing after all.
But he’s definitely going to need some time to get used to it. And possibly some therapy.
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