#I definitely forgot someone so I'm sorry if you're not here

[thediamondarcher]

I'm going to do this random call-out to everyone who always likes my posts because you give me more motivation than you think you do and I'm deeply grateful tbh :)

@st4rb04rd @lunabelova1122 @wewillberightbackk @imbehindyouman @dumbweirdo @kazbrekkerfast @bebop-robyn @nothing-like-a-mad-woman @doepedip @simpforcharliedalton @talatessa

[envy-of-the-apple]

Infinite Rewind

Gojo Satoru x reader

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

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

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Stuck in the Moment

Fandom: Marvel (CEO AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It was just supposed to be a regular day at work. But a huge storm hit the city. The power goes out and you're stuck inside the elevator with an incredibly attractive man. So with nothing else to do, you two get to know each other while waiting to be rescued.

A/N: technically, CEO's son AU but whatever

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You quickly close your umbrella and rush inside. Even with the umbrella and a raincoat, you're still partially drenched.

A storm has hit the city. You hear the occasional roar of thunder and flash of lightning, raindrops pelting against the pavement and windows of your work building.

You flash your badge and walk through security. You shoot a smile to Stan, one of the older security guards, "Keeping warm, Stan?"

"As best as I can, Y/N!" he replies, zipping up his jacket further up towards his neck.

You gather with the group of people in front of the elevators. Two doors open, and people start filing in. Both elevators fill up quick, so you decide to hang back and wait for the next one.

You hear someone approach you and they sigh. A soothing, deep voice follows, "Jeez. Did not mentally prepare myself for this much rain."

You turn your head, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. The owner of the voice is as handsome as he sounds. You chuckle and quickly look away, "I know. Even with my umbrella and raincoat, I still wasn't as prepared for this storm."

"I forgot an umbrella hence," he gestures to his drenched suit jacket.

You snort, "Gotta keep a small, compact one with you at all times around this time of year. Never know when a storm will happen."

"Definitely going to follow your advice," he says with a grin.

The elevator door nearest you opens and he gestures, "After you."

"Thanks," you reply, stepping inside and the handsome man filing in behind you. You press the fifth button while he presses the eleventh.

You can't help but comment, "You must be a high profile person if you're going to the top."

The man shyly shrugs, "I suppose," he nods to the fifth button, "You're in the marketing department?"

"Yup. I'm part of the social media team."

"Ah. You guys get to have all the fun."

You giggle, "It's not all fun, but, yeah, we do like-"

The elevator slows, but not because it's approaching your floor. The light's flicker and the elevator creaks to a halt. Your body sways at the stop. The lights flicker again and then you're engrossed in darkness.

You groan out in annoyance, "Oh come on!"

The man with you takes out his phone and turns the flash on. He faces it to the ceiling, illuminating the elevator, "You okay?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Same," he sighs, "Guess the storm created a power outage. Might be some time until the power comes back or until we're rescued."

"Great."

Your phone starts to buzz and you pull it out of your bag. You answer it, "Kate?"

"Hey! Are you at work already 'cause looks like the entire building is experiencing a power outage."

"Yuuup and I was unfortunate enough to be riding the elevator when the power went out."

"Shit. Okay, what floor are you on?"

"I think we're in-between three and four."

"Oh good, you're not alone!"

"Nope. I'm with-" you pause, and look to the man, "Sorry, I never got your name."

"Bucky."

"Hey, Bucky. I'm Y/N. I'd say 'nice to meet you' but I wouldn't call our current situation 'nice'"

He chuckles, "I get it and likewise."

"Who the hell is Bucky? I've never heard of a Bucky before."

"Not now, Kate. Anyway, I should probably save as much of my phone battery as possible. Keep me updated on the power and such."

"Will do! Stay safe and don't die!"

You snort, "I'll try not to." You end the call and look back at Bucky.

"Since you're probably like an executive or something, do you happen to have contact to any other higher ups about this power outage?"

He nods and gestures to his phone, "Getting several text messages from people. I've let them know we're stuck here and they've already contacted the fire department. But considering the storm and everything, might take them a while to get here."

"So guess we have to get comfortable," you set your bag down and slip off your raincoat. You set it on the floor and sit on it. Bucky looks at you with a cocked brow and you shrug, "What? The floor's wet!"

Bucky chuckles to himself and finds a dry spot in the corner. He slides down the wall to sit on the floor, "So, Y/N from Marketing, tell me your life story." You look at him confused and he shrugs, "Might as well get to know each other since we might be stuck here for a while."

______________________________

Within the first hour, learn that Bucky is the eldest sibling and he has a younger sister. His best friends are named Steve and Sam. He's a huge nerd that loves Star Wars and Star Trek. He went to Columbia University to study business, which is why he's now working here.

You told him about your childhood, that you and your best friend, Yelena, moved to the city for school and ended up staying. You express your passion for social media marketing and, ultimately, how you ended up working for Barnes Co., thanks to Yelena's sister, Nat.

"How long have you been working here?" Bucky asks you.

"It's going to be my two year anniversary in a few months."

Bucky slowly nods, "Can't believe you've been here for two years and I've never seen you around."

You give him a shrug, "It's a big building. Lots of people work here. Besides, you work with the higher ups, so I doubt you'd even see me around."

You take this moment to look over him with the minimal lighting you have. He clearly makes a lot of money from what you can tell. His shoes and suit are obviously designer. Hugo Boss or Armani or something. His watch is definitely a Rolex and probably costs more than your entire life.

Bucky shakes his head, "I know, but I do try my best to get to know everyone who works here. The company is what it is because of everyone who works here, not just the CEO, CFOs, and executives."

"That's nice to hear, Bucky. I mean, I knew that this company really values its employees, but to hear someone close to the top say so, is really reassuring."

He shyly chuckles, "Well, uh, yeah, um," he clears his throat, "So, uh, you seeing anyone?" he winces at how unsmooth that came out.

But you chuckle, "Are you asking me out?"

"Me? No, no. Just, ya know, we talked about our childhood, our jobs, only topic we haven't hit is our love lives. Besides, it'll probably a little bit longer until we're rescued. They're working on getting the people on the first two floors out first." Bucky does his best to be as nonchalant as possible and you find it so adorable. You never expected a guy like him to be a little shy.

"Riiiight. Well, I've dated, been in a few relationships, but nobody's really stuck around for long. Kind of getting tired of the whole dating game, so haven't really put much thought into relationships lately. What about you?"

He nervously rubs the back of his neck, "I, uh, hate to say that I dated around a lot when I was younger. Not super proud of myself for that. But as I grew older, started wanting a more stable relationship. Was in one for a long time with a woman. Thought we were going to get married and everything, but then I found out she stuck around because of my growing wealth so-"

"Yikes."

"Yeah. Went back to dating and sleeping around and it got old again quicker than before. I guess I'm kind of like you, focusing on myself and work. Doing my best to just survive in the world."

You slowly nod, "Well, what a pair we make, huh? I mean, look at us," you gesture to yourself and him, "Stuck in an elevator, sharing our life stories, getting to know each other. Honestly, thought a situation like this would be so much worse, but I'm glad it was you that got stuck with me in this situation."

Bucky laughs, "Same here."

"Buck?" you hear a muffled voice from the other side of the elevator doors.

"Dad?!"

"Yeah, you guys okay in there?"

"We're okay!"

"Good! The fire department's here. They're getting you guys out. Just hang tight!"

"Not like we can go anywhere!" Bucky replies and you laugh. He grins at you as you wait for the doors to pry open.

______________________

The entire building was evacuated. Several people stayed back to make sure everyone was safe. Nat and Kate stayed in the lobby waiting for you to be rescued.

When you exited the stairs door, they rushed over to you.

"Holy shit, are you okay?!"

"Yeah. Me and Bucky just hung out that entire time," you gesture to the man who follows behind you.

Nat looks over your shoulder and her eyes widen, "You were stuck in the elevator with James Barnes?"

"James?" you turn to face Bucky as he approaches you, "I thought your name is Bucky."

He nervously clears his throat, "Uh, well, kinda. Technically, my name is James Buchanan Barnes, but those closest to me call me Bucky."

Your realization has your eyes widen and you take a step back, "You're George Barnes' son."

He sheepishly waves, "Hi."

"Well...that's...cool." You didn't know what to say, honestly. You're a little surprised by the reveal. You quickly go through the info that Bucky shared with you in the elevator shaft. He never mentioned his dad or anything that could hint at the position he holds. He deliberately held that info from you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Bucky says with a guilty expression on his face.

You shake your head, "No, it's-it's fine. I mean, I knew you worked a high position but didn't think...that high."

He snorts, "Yeah, um, I just hope you don't see me differently."

"Not at all. I met you as Bucky, the sci-fi nerd who sucks at flirting, so that's how I see you."

"Sucks at flirting? Yeesh, guess that's what happens when I haven't dated in a while."

You laugh, "Happens to the best of us."

"Son, you ready?" George Barnes approaches Bucky.

"Yeah," he nods to his dad and looks back at you, "See you around, Y/N."

"See ya," you give him a small wave and turn back to Kate and Nat. They look at you like you grew another head, "What?"

"The son of George Barnes, James Barnes, son of the CEO of Barnes Co., was flirting with you?!"

You scoff, "I wouldn't really say he was flirting with me. More like attempting to flirt. It doesn't matter. Not like he'd actually want to date someone like me," you shrug it off and pull on your raincoat, "Ready to go?"

_____________________

Everyone was working from home the following day to ensure that the building was safe to occupy when the power came back.

The weather is still poor but not as bad as the day before. Still, you decide to step outside, choosing a cafe to work from rather than your shared apartment with Yelena.

You’re answering emails while sipping on a warm beverage when you get a new message on Slack from James Barnes:

JB: You’re looking cozy over there in your corner.

You immediately look around and spot him on the opposite side of the cafe. When your eyes meet his, he gives a wave. He quickly gathers his things and you keep your eyes on him as he moves across the cafe to your table.

“May I join you?”

“If you’d like.”

He sits across from you and you lower your laptop screen, “Not gonna lie, kinda creepy that you did that, Barnes.”

He shyly shrugs, “I guess I really do need to brush up on my flirting hm?”

You giggle, “Yeah, I suppose you do.”

“Maybe I can practice with you?”

You give him a coy look, “I guess you can.”

[loggiepj]

illicit affairs

part 1 | part 2

"Y/N?"

You quickly turned your head to the sound and saw two teenagers who looked alike behind you.

There was something familiar about the way they looked, the shades of green hues from their eyes or the way they grin from ear to ear towards you. You had nightmarish dreams about them. And then it suddenly clicked.

As if you still haven't figured it out, one of them walked forward and offered his hand for you to shake.

"Billy?" Then he pointed his thumb to the guy beside him. "And Tommy? You used to babysit us when we were eight years old?"

Forcing a nervous chuckle, you said, "Of course, Billy and Tommy. How could I forget?"

How could you ever forget?

Ten years had passed and it was as if it was only yesterday when you last saw them.

"Gosh, you're both so tall, you had outgrown me," you said, now laughing as you compared each other's heights. Although you hoped it wasn't a shaky laugh.

They both joined in laughter. "Nah, I'm taller than Billy now," Tommy added.

"By an inch," Billy protested. "And that doesn't even count."

There was a short pause as you tried to regain your calm posture. You wouldn't want the twins to know how their presence truly affected you. But you couldn't stop the rapid beating of your heart for what was about to come no matter how hard you tried.

So you placed your hand on your chest as you said, forcing a smile, "It's been so long."

"Yeah, it is," Billy confirmed. "We haven't seen you around in Westview anymore. Do you live here now?"

"In New Jersey actually," you replied. "I'm just here for work."

"Wait, you work here?"

You shouldn't have said that but you nodded. "I teach Creative writing."

"No way," Billy said excitedly, clutching Tommy's arm. "We're actually planning to enroll here for College. Mom's at the lobby right now talking to the Dean. Tommy here hasn't fully decided yet on what course to take."

Upon the mention of Wanda's name, you immediately tensed, clutching your chest a bit harder, as if you forgot how to breathe.

"That's— That's great, you guys," you stuttered a reply. "You'll both gonna love it here."

"Wait, Mom's heading this way," Tommy said as he waved at someone from a distance.

Quick as lightning, you glanced at your wristwatch and moved a step backwards. "Shoot, I'm terribly sorry but I have to be somewhere five minutes ago. It's great to see you guys though."

"Oh, it's okay Y/n," Billy said. "We'll just see you later then."

YOU MUST have run like crazy after you left like you were really in a hurry. You had joined marathons in the past couple of years yet you weren't trained to avoid someone like this as fast as you could.

Your heart was still thudding so loud in your chest upon reaching your office. Closing and locking the door, you leaned your back against it as you closed your eyes and tried to regain your own breathing.

That was a close one, you thought.

"I didn't know you jog in your suit," Kate greeted, making you jump.

You opened your eyes and saw Kate on her table. You had completely forgotten you shared the office along with three other faculty members.

Exhaling heavily, you turned around to peep through the glass door. No sign of any brunette that had haunted your dreams.

"You okay?" You jumped again when Kate suddenly touched your shoulder.

"Sorry," you answered as you looked at her.

"Why so jumpy?" Kate gave you a concerned laugh.

"I- I just. . ."

Kate stopped laughing and held your shoulders. "Okay, breathe, Y/n."

It took you almost a minute to regain your normal breathing. Then you stepped away from your bestfriend and took a seat on the side of your desk.

"I just saw Tommy and Billy," you began breathlessly.

Kate waited but when you didn't add any more words, she asked, "Who are Tommy and Billy?"

"Wanda's twins," you replied.

Her brows furrowed deeper as she thought for a while. "Wait, Wanda the milf you hooked up with in college?"

You glared at her before she quickly apologized. "Sorry, but I also have eyes, Y/n, she was definitely a milf back then. But what are they doing here?"

"She's looking up universities and colleges for her boys."

"Does she know you work here?"

"Probably, I don't know. I just told Billy and Tommy though, so they probably told her."

And when you started to hyperventilate again upon the realization, Kate stepped forward.

"Look, calm down-"

"How am I supposed to calm down?"

"Because you're already safe, Y/n."

"What?"

"She can no longer threaten you for something that happened ten years ago. Gee, she might even have saggy skin that you would no longer recognize her."

Kate was right. You had your own apartment now. Your own car. Your own stable job. Plus, you were finally having your book published. You have built your own reputation here.

And you won't ever let her destroy that. She doesn't have the upper hand right now.

"You're right," you said, smiling. "I'm no longer a helpless student."

"Right, and if any, she'd be the one who's stupid to think she can actually scare you."

Kate had a point. You shouldn't be scared as you were ten years ago. That little old you did not exist anymore.

BUT WHEN the first person you saw the next morning standing outside your office was none other than the woman herself, it would seem that all the self assurance you did last night vanished at the sight of her.

And of course, she didn't have saggy skin like an old woman do. Wanda still looked like a goddess with perfect long brown hair and the mesmerizing greenest pair of eyes you have ever seen. She looked like she hadn't aged a bit. It was unfair.

When yours and her eyes met, you completely froze, as if you haven't gotten used to look at her like that. It used to end up with you screaming at her in your nightmares, for how cruel she was for making you both love and hate her.

"Y/n," Wanda called softly. And you hated to admit her voice still sound so angelic in your ears.

"Miss Stark," you greeted back, clutching the strap of your bag tighter, as if you needed it as a weapon in case she'd attack.

"I . . . I'm not anymore." She smiled shyly as she waved her fingers sporting no rings at all. "So you can still call me Wanda."

You simply just nodded back and wondered how you completely lost your voice.

"Ummm, my twins," Wanda began, noticing the awkward tension between the two of you. "Billy and Tommy, they told me you met them yesterday and I just missed you. We're still looking where they wanna go. But I think Tommy now likes it here because of a familiar face."

You tried not to overthink it. But Wanda's smile brought you shivers.

"What's he taking?" you managed to ask.

"Either Psychology or Biology."

You nodded, now avoiding her eyes. "Well, it's in another building, right after the entrance. You might have missed it, the pathway was covered with shrubs as tall as lamp posts."

Wanda swallowed as she nodded then shook her head. "Yes, no, I mean yes, I have been there this morning. I talked to them earlier before I got here. Do you know Dr. Hill? I kind of asked her about you and my, you're famous around here, she told me where your office is," she chuckled shakily, "and here we are."

You licked your lips nervously. "Yeah, here we are."

Wanda took a small step forward, her fingers appeared to be trembling. "I actually kind of wanted to talk to you about—"

And you immediately knew what she was going to speak about.

"It's a long time, Miss Maximoff. I kind of forgot about it now," you interrupted with a forced smile.

You knew Wanda tensed upon the mention of her maiden name. She hadn't heard you use that name before ever directed at her.

She smiled back rather forcefully as she nodded. "Right, right. Regardless, I just really want to apologize. What I did was so—"

"Heartless?" you suggested coyly.

She stopped and looked at you, her green eyes piercing right at you.

You chuckled as you stepped towards your office. "Believe me, my younger self would really hate you right now. But years have gone by, let's just forgive and forget as the saying goes."

After inserting the key into the keyhole, you entered the office rather hurriedly. But a soft delicate hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you. She pulled away instantly and you cursed youself for feeling disappointed, for wanting to touch her.

"If it's not any bother, Y/n. Can we have this talk over some coffee? You know, catch up with all those years that passed. I . . . You’re having your book published and I'm really excited for you—"

"Really preoccupied right now," you butted in, forcing a frown. "Sorry-"

"Not right now." She laughed as she went on. "Me and the twins were actually staying at The Avengers hotel just right around the corner just beside this-"

"Yeah, I know where that is."

Wanda nodded. "How about tonight then?"

"Tonight," you appeared to be in thought, "I got to be somewhere." And you knew you really sounded like you were only making things up just to avoid spending time with her. You still hoped Wanda would catch that.

But she didn't.

"Okay, how about tomorrow then? Tommy will be looking forward to talk with you about this university. I'm also kind of thinking if I should rent him an apartment or apply him to the dormitory, whatever suggestion you have will be greatly appreciated."

God. You had no idea how Wanda could get so desperate.

"Okay, sure. Sure," you finally relented, wanting to just get rid of her.

This brought a genuine huge smile on Wanda's face as she reiterated what time and if she could get your number. You gave her a fake one, although it appeared only as a typo.

SOMEHOW, Wanda still figured out later that night and you received a message from an unknown number you knew was from her.

See you tomorrow :)

But you didn't go the next day, as promised.

Even the next day after that, as you replied you couldn't to her messages. At least, you were still nice to respond back.

"I HEARD some hot lady was looking for you," Kate teased the moment you entered the office one morning. It had been a week since your last encounter with Wanda.

The other faculty member, Yelena laughed. "Look, I didn't know who she was when I bumped into her. I might have hit on her but that's besides the point."

You completely ignored them as they went on laughing.

Kate added, "Okay, from now on, when you guys see Wanda, you should tell her to get lost."

You turned this time. "Nobody would do such a thing."

Kate frowned. "Don't tell me you've already gone soft for her. Do you even remember what you went through—"

"I do, unfortunately I still do, Kate. But I don't want it to appear as if she still affects me that much."

"Hate to burst your bubble Y/n, but why are you still avoiding her?" Yelena asked after a small pause, noticing you nervously taking a seat at your desk. "I mean if you want to move on from someone, you need to have closure."

Kate disagreed. "There needs to be no closure between them. Wanda doesn't deserve that. She deserves to rot in hell for what she did."

"And I wish for that too, Kate," you said. "But nothing good comes out of it, it's been ten years."

"Well, do it for yourself then," Yelena suggested.

"What?"

"Closure for yourself, not for her."

IT WAS finally nighttime when you reached your apartment. It wasn't a shady area, you had grown accustomed to it. But you were still cautious.

You knew you could afford a much safer place but it would have to do for the meantime. You were saving up for a house someday in the suburbs, far from the city, with white picket fence and small little feet running around the backyard. Although, it would require someone special to spend that life with and you had not been active on that part. The gods above wouldn't just send you an angel to love, readily available for you. Life doesn't work like that.

The guard stopped you the moment you almost hopped into the elevator of your apartment building.

"Some woman was looking for you, Miss Y/l/n," he said, straightening his eyeglasses. "I think her name starts with one, but I couldn't remember if it's one the number or something else."

You sighed, immediately knowing. Then you stepped out the elevator. "Did you tell her where I live?"

He shook his head. "No. I told her to text you and wait."

"But we have no waiting area?"

"I think she went inside that coffee shop across the street."

BUT SHE wasn't in there when you went to check. The shop was barely empty with last few customers for the day.

"Y/n," the barrista named Christine called. You were a regular in that shop, having to buy coffees every day before you go to work. "Some lady was looking for you."

She said it with a flirty smile, but you hadn't really noticed it until Kate pointed it out one time she visited your apartment and you both decided to get coffee.

"Yeah?" You were hopeful, but glancing around, not a familiar brunette could be seen.

"But she was also looking for alcohol and we don't serve them," she explained. "She probably went to Hydra's bar, I think it's still open."

You knew then to go after her, suddenly panicking as you grew worried for the older woman. You're still a human. You still care for her.

And right you were, there was a commotion inside the bar as two men appeared to be in a heated argument with Wanda on the counter.

"I already told you I'm not interested," you heard Wanda snap drunkenly, although she had no success in getting the men's hands off her.

Growing furious at them, you quickly stomped towards the counter. "Hey, Mom! You're here," you said, forcing a smile.

"Mom?" one of the men asked, making him disinterested and step back. "I didn't know you're already a mother."

You pulled Wanda from the counter as you paid the bartender. He only smiled apologetically your way.

The other man maintained his stance. "Don't worry. I could handle you being a milf."

But you shoved him away, making him lose his balance and stagger until he fell on the floor.

Anger filled you as you hurriedly made your way to the exit with Wanda in tow. She was holding unto you tight, although the way she was swaying, made you wonder if she had waited for you for a long time and had a couple more drinks.

"Mom? I like that." She giggled. "You hadn't called me that for years and outside the bedroom."

Your face flushed red as you carefully crossed the street and led her to your apartment.

"You smell so good, Y/n," she went on, her head on your neck and hand cupping your face, as she laughed heartily. Then her nose leaned in and sniffed you noisily, lips barely touching your skin bringing goosebumps. "I miss you terribly."

Quickly apologizing, you climbed off her and hurriedly went to your drawers.

You had managed to carry her into your apartment. Once you had placed her unto your bed with difficulty, her eyes opened wider as if waking up when both of your faces were merely inches away. You even staggered from her grasp, falling right down on top of her. It would seem others would see this as coupling. You panted breathlessly as your gazes met, your arms holding yourself on each side of her head while hers wrapped around your neck, bodies pressing against each other. Oh, how you miss her too.

Although very against your will, you lent some of your fresh clothes for her to wear for the night. And she looked so much beautiful with her in it as she made her way to your bed. You could feel her eyes at you on the comforter on the floor but you stayed silent, wanting her to understand how you want nothing to do with her. This was just a nice gesture, nothing more.

As you slept, you dreamed about that one night she saved you.

Now you completely don't owe her anything anymore.

[sourbinnie]

☆ regrets & replacements ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angstttt (is all i know how to do) ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> did he actually forget? or did someone make him forget? ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> swearing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

a/n -> i'm gonna use the same name for the girl best friend and it's soohee, i'm sorry if that's your name babes. to the person who sent me this request, babe i'll try making a happy ending i promise (even if this is just so sad lmaooo)

maknae line

chan ✉

it wasn't weird to you that he wasn't the first person to say "happy birthday" to you that morning. he had always been busy especially in comeback season, you weren't mad, just a bit disappointed. the messages started flooding in as you looked at your phone trying to respond to everything. as the hours passed and no chan messages, no appearances at your front door and definitely no calls, you were starting to feel a bit uneasy.

you thought maybe he was planning a surprise? maybe you had to be more patient. or maybe he actually forgot and you were just waiting for nothing. either way the thoughts left your head as soon as you heard the phone ring and it was a video call from minho.

"happy birthday (y/n)!" the boys cheered and they even had a cake with them. it made you feel ten times better knowing they cared so much but it still made you wanna cry not seeing chan there, it just felt wrong. "i'm sorry we couldn't say this earlier, we were busy with practice and i'm sure your boyfriend will be there at any minute." minho said.

"i hope so, he still hasn't said anything." you responded and they all looked confused as hell. chan had been wanting everything to be perfect for your birthday day and him not saying anything was kinda weird to all of them. "did he say anything to you guys?"

"he left earlier because he said he got plans? i thought he would be right there when we called." felix said and now it was your turn to be confused. so if he wasn't here and he said he got plans? where was he? it just didn't make sense. 

"i'm gonna text him right now to get his ass to your house." jisung said as he brought out his phone and texted as fast as he could. you could read the look on his face through the screen as he read the reply and it wasn't pleasing at all. "he's with soohee." jisung said and it was like everything stopped for a moment. 

"you're not serious right now." seungmin said and you couldn't hear the boys go off anymore because it was now starting to make sense. you were never really good friends with soohee, you tried to but it was like she had another image for who she wanted to be with chan (probably herself). you decided to hang up because you couldn't really talk anymore, you were just shocked that she would go that low and that he would not care enough. 

you wanted to go out and enjoy the rest of your birthday but it's like you were glued to the couch as the hours went by and eventually chan did get home. he looked at you and took in the scene, he wasn't sure what happened that you didn't text him all day like you usually do or that you didn't come by during practice. something had to be wrong for you to be acting like this right?

"baby? what's wrong? i missed you today." he said as he tried to sit down next to you but you got up and now he was starting to understand that he was the one who did you wrong. he still didn't know why though and the vague messages from the boys today weren't helping. he felt like he wasn't in on whatever was going on and it was starting to make him panic. "did i do something wrong? i have no idea what's happening."

"can i be alone today chris? i'm just not feeling too well." you expressed and that made him worry even more. you usually would talk it out if something like this happened but you were more silent than anything. you headed towards your shared room leaving a puzzled chan behind. that's when something popped up on his phone saying "(y/n)'s birthday, don't forget to pick up all the things you ordered!" and it fucking broke him completely. 

not only he didn't say happy birthday to you, not only he forgot to pick up all the gifts, not only did he not organize everything he had planned for today. he spent the whole day with a person he knew you weren't fond of and not with you who had waited all day for him to do something. if he wasn't the worst boyfriend in the planet right now, he surely didn't know who it was. 

minho ✉

it was no secret to you that minho forgot. you weren't really bothered by it since you weren't used to celebrating your birthday all that often but it made you kind of excited to do so this year. jisung decided to join you in organizing the event and when the day arrived, he said everything was set in place and of course told you happy birthday before anyone could do so.

"is minho hyung with you?" jisung asked over the phone as you tried to get ready. that question caught you off guard as you thought he told you he was going to be at the dorms. 

"he's not in the dorms?" you asked now feeling a bit troubled and hoping for the answer you knew wouldn't arrive because if he was at the dorms, jisung wouldn't have asked in the first place.

"i was sure that he told me he would be at your house before the party." he responded but as you looked around, yeah minho wasn't anywhere to be found and now you were wondering if he would show up at all. anxiety kicked in and that was not pleasant to feel on your special day. "okay i can feel you panicking through the phone already, he might be my best friend but i'm kicking his ass for lying."

jisung hanged up all of the sudden and you tried to concentrate on your look. you knew everyone was gonna be there so you wanted to make a good impression but all that was going through your mind was "why would minho lie?" and "where was minho?". it troubled you so much that you had to call him to know what was going on. 

"(y/n)? babe? i'm kinda busy right now." hearing his voice relieved you but you were still going back and forth in your head trying to figure out. maybe he was gonna surprise you? maybe he did really forget? or maybe he just didn't care? oh god all those questions.

"minho where are you?" you asked and waited for the dreaded response, you were already assuming the worst and you were right to do so when he responded.

"i'm at soohee's house. she had a bad date with a guy and she needed me here." he said as if it was all natural like he wasn't missing out on anything and that made you want to cry on the spot but you held back. it wasn't that he chose you over her, it was that she did this all the time and he wasn't realizing how she was using him. you wanted him to be here, to show you that he cared but his actions were speaking louder than anything.

"minho do me a favor and don't show up today." you said as you hung up, leaving a baffled minho on the other side of the line. what were you talking about? okay yes he lied about seeing his friend but it was because neither you or jisung liked her at all. he was just trying to be a good friend and he ended up being a bad one and also a terrible boyfriend in the process, how did that make any sense?

"who called?" soohee asked as she came back from getting all her makeup off after a long crying session. 

"oh it was (y/n), they were pissed at me though and i have no idea why." he explained and that only made her chuckle which had him confused. what was funny about his significant other being mad at him? yeah there was nothing funny about it.

"probably because their dumb birthday party was today." she responded and it hit him like a bucket of cold water. he looked at the calendar on his phone and he wanted to actually punch a wall. he forgot his partner's birthday, he lied in the process and he chose someone else who was now showing her true colors before him over you. how the fuck would he make it up to you now?

changbin ✉

you were trying to process what was going on as you woke up and had a ton of messages but there was no changbin beside you. it was weird also how all of the texts you were getting started with "happy birthday" but the one changbin sent only said "i'm gonna be busy today, sorry that i left without a goodbye!" and it was okay, you didn't expect him to remember everything especially when he was buried with work. 

well you thought it was work at least. you didn't expect it to be something else but every single one of the boys had told you to have a wonderful day and that they were sure changbin was gonna enjoy his day off with you. so it wasn't work and now you were left to think about the endless possibilities of where he could be.

"he left without a word?" yeonjun asked as he and wooyoung dropped by. they were some of changbin's closest friends but easily became yours as well as you hung out often with them. "but he told us he had big plans for today! where the fuck could he be?"

"i have no idea. i thought the boys would know but they even told me he asked for a day off to spend it with me." you said and you started to feel a little troubled. maybe something happened? he would tell you if something was happening though especially if it was an emergency.

"let's hope he's just planning the surprise." wooyoung said and you were hoping for that, that it was all just one big confusion and he didn't forget about you. you felt incredibly lonely when they left but they had hope that his friend would appear again and that "busy" meant he was gonna show up with a million flowers to make it up to you. 

but time was passing by and no changbin appeared until midnight. he didn't expect for you to be awake at such an hour but he didn't question it as he looked at you, dry tears in your face as you sniffled. worry washed over his body as he sat down next to you and tried to get close but you wouldn't let him.

"darling? what happened?" changbin asked, feeling the tension all of the sudden. he wasn't gonna be a coward and run away from it though, if you were feeling down it was his duty to know what happened.

"wooyoung and yeonjun were here thinking that you might show up with gifts or a reservation. i thought the same for a minute but then you never showed up." you said choking on your tears and it made his heart break into pieces as he processed what was happening. his friends showed up, his bandmates probably said something too, hell even his family told him to not forget about today and what did he do? not remember his significant other's special day.

"i'm sorry (y/n). i spent all day with soohee because she needed me and i forgot to even look at the date, i had everything planned. i'm such a fucking idiot but let me make it up to you." he tried explaining but it was no use as you got up as your sobs got louder and everything he said was only making it worse. he knew that beyond you not having a good relationship with her that he chose her over you on a date that was important and that he was now too late.

"so not only did you forget. you chose to spend it with a person who clearly hates me and everything about our relationship. i think that says more about you than me, changbin." you said as you shook your head and walked to your shared room, only to close the door in the process startling him. he feared that this would be the end because there was no going back from this one.

hyunjin ✉

you knew something was off when hyunjin basically went silent mode. he left the house in the morning, not a trace of a goodbye kiss and less of a happy birthday. he didn't answer his phone calls and neither the texts messages that you were sending which was very odd on his part. he usually would spam you images or emojis but there was no sight of him.

you asked chan if hyunjin happened to be at the studio and he responded back immediately saying that he was supposed to be there for practice and still hasn't showed up. which okay you could understand him working on your birthday, you weren't insane like that but he usually got there on time. you decided to grab your things and head to the jyp building, you wanted to see him mostly. maybe he had forgotten your birthday and that was okay, you still had the rest of the day to celebrate it.

everyone as soon as they saw you said "happy birthday" or greeted you which was very nice. when you saw the boys you couldn't help but smile even if deep down inside you were freaking out. you could tell the vibe was off as well as you saw chan on his phone but you weren't shook out of your thoughts as felix talked to you.

"you shouldn't have to spend your birthday at a filthy dance studio with us. you should be celebrating!" he said as he hugged you and you returned the hug. maybe you did need this embrace after all because you were feeling a little down as hyunjin still didn't arrive.

"i just wanted to see him lix. i'm kinda worried but i'm hoping for the best." you mumbled and he nodded as he understood how you were feeling and why you weren't acting like yourself.

"he says he's coming over here, thank god." chan said and that made you smile a little but then remembered he did not pick up any of your calls yet he picked up when chan called him. maybe he was busy before? well he could've still responded to you a bit later right?

you sat down next to seungmin as he saw how you were feeling and wanted to distract you from it. it was working until everyone saw hyunjin walk in with soohee and that was the answer to all your troubles even if it brought a storm towards you and what was going to happen.

"baby? what are you doing here?" he asked with a confused look on his face and could immediately pick up the tension in the room as the boys were glaring at him and you just looked so sad. 

"oh god are you seriously looking like that because he didn't say happy birthday? how old are you?" soohee spoke and hyunjin closed his eyes as he let it sink in. he knew you two weren't in terms and this only made it worse didn't it? he left without a trace, he didn't respond to anything on his phone and he was now walking in with her as she spoke to you in such a hateful way. 

"i'm just gonna go. i'm sorry for interrupting the practice guys and hyunjin, please don't come by my apartment." you said as the tears rolled down your face and you left as fast as you could. hyunjin wanted to go after you but felix stopped him because you needed to be alone for now to heal. the knot in his throat getting tighter as he thought about how he would redeem this after he fucked up so badly.

[loving-august]

practicing him for your return demonstration!!

pairings. nursing student reader x various

notes. hi hi hi! first off, I don't know on what other nursing schools would do this but I tried my best to align this on what happened in my school. every institutions are different on their ways of teaching and procedures! if you are an actual nurse and youa re reading this...I hope u enjoy hehehe

btw @uravichii your mention last time made me write this 😧 (I'm heavily inspired)

+ it's been so long that i forgot how to write. (I joined the publication club in order for my writing skills to be more improved) and !! I'm planning to be posting here and there but not like i used to post here few years ago. Especially I'm a med student— I love and hate my course with a passion ❤️

links. navigation | taglist

IMAGINE being a nursing student and you don't have someone to demo on....

Your ever so supportive boyfriend is there to be your patient for a while until you finish your practice on the return demonstrations. it's kind of funny when you try to say out loud the greetings and pretending that you are talking to him as if he's a patient and he will snort or make fun of you. A smack on his arm whenever he makes fun of you and you would start again from the very beginning.

"Stop laughing!"

"Sorry, you're just too funny."

You pouted, you replied in an annoyed tone, "how am I supposed to finish this with you looking at me like that." His gaze became more playful. He knows that you're annoyed. "What face?"

"Like that!"

He did it again.

"I swear I hope i'll make a mistake when trying intramuscular injection with you."

He raised both of his hands in the air playfully to show his surrender yo you. "Alright, alright. I'll stop this time, I promise."

And he did kept his promise.

With your words stuttering and couple of cussing of you forgetting the definition that you memorized, you finally finished saying the procedures. And to the fun part, the actual procedure to be done on your boyfriend.

You kept in mind that you still talking to him as if it's your actual patient.

"Sir, good morning, I am y/n l/n, a nursing student. Today i'll be administering the inject to you, is that okay with you sir?"

He nodded.

You prepared your 3cc syringe with your Plain NSS to be injected to him.

"Sir, I want you to relax your muscles sir. This will be quick," you began to inject him, and it was quicker than you expected. After that, you placed a dry cotton ball to the affected area and secured it with a transpore, and you began to clean up the equipments and the trash.

You approached to him and asked, "how was it? Was my hand heavy while injecting you?"

You were worried if you have hurted him since you were just a beginner and a bit nervous when doing this kind of thing.

"Not bad, you were gentle. Although you're kind of shaking before you injected me but after that? you were smooth." He answered.

You were thankful that he allowed you to be your 'patient' for your practice. "Thank you for trusting me. It means a lot to me, you know?"

"No problem. I'm glad I could help."

You can't help but hug and peppered his face with kisses.

© 2024 loving-august. All Rights Reserved. Do not repost. Do not plagiarize. Do not share on other platforms. Will get slapped if u do.

[biteyoubiteme]

I see the appeal in the new TXT photos. It screams TXT licking off your release off of a lollipop in front of you.

txt x lollipops

any txt member x afab!reader

warnings: 🔞!!! member uses a lollipop while fingering you (im sure there is some name for this I don't know educate me if so), mentions of un protected sex, creampie, cum eating, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.3k

an: you came to the right place because I love this idea omfg. I wanted to do something like this for one of the dumdum fics but left it out and i'm so happy you brought it up here i'm leaving this open for any member! this is very short and prob didn't need photos but they are so cute I couldn’t help it [m.list]

It definitely starts off as a joke, something you had seen somewhere, heard someone mention at a party like casual conversation. “I bet you'd like that,” you laughed, not thinking it would take root until you were spread out with him between your legs. 

You were on the edge of the bed, legs tossed over his shoulders with him teasingly blowing on your already soaked cunt. “I got us something,” the lollipop surprised you for only a second until he started to play with it. 

It was so easy to watch the way the candy slid through your slick, even easier to find a pattern to rub on your clit that made your knees try to close in around his ears. The devilish grin on his lips is stuck in place as he uses his free hand to shove two fingers inside you. It's a lethal combination that has your hips trying to match each thrust. Gummy walls sucking him in knuckles deep as he angels his fingers to press right against your gspot. He doesnt stop the assault on your clit rubbing the lollipop back and forth without remorse before you're seeing spots as you cum. He wastes no time in pulling his fingers out of your pulsing cunt licking them clean before dragging the lollipop down to try and collect any of your release he can. You watch the way he's completely mesmerized by the stings of wetness connecting you to the lollipop before he lays it on his tongue. His moan is held right at the back of his throat as he sucks the candy clean. 

But he doesn't stop there, keeping the candy tucked against his cheek as he fucks you into the mattress like hes desprate to fill you. Pulling out after he's done to watch the way his cum slides out, staining your folds, your thighs, the sheets. dipping the lollipop back through the complete mess he's made of you before lifting it to your mouth for your turn of a taste. Moaning as the lollipop makes contact with your taste buds, sucking until the salty turns sweet.

[voikiraz]

Lover ; niki 니키 .

Lovers . bf!niki x fem!reader w. None i think step ? #758 M.recordings ! [ i cant believe its overrr, but im so grateful for the love yall gave this seriesand im glad you enjoyed ittt ! Mwahh ]

Syn. Lover niki and actions he does that makes you fold every time

ꕤ ni-ki always has a thing for making you origami stuff, whenever you meet up, he has something made out of paper for you, a flower on a picnic date, a bird while you're watching the sunrise, an animal when you're in a pet shop cause you're thinking of adopting a pet, a little envelope with a paper that has his number even though you already have it, everything, you name it.

One day you decided to show up unannounced at his dorm.

You had made him an origami flower, deciding to pay him back for all the hard work he put into the ones he made you, you knew how hard it is from the constant tries that you were taking, over and over again.

You knocked on his door three times then waited, humming to some song while waiting for someone to open the door.

Once the door opened, a shocked niki stood in front of you.

"What are you doing here?"

"Is that how you greet your girlfriend?" You ask, frowning.

"No- I'm sorry I just-" he tries to reason but then a smiley jake pops up from behind him.

"He was making you an origami bouquet and he doesn't want you to know" Jake says, rolling his eyes as riki groans, there goes the surprise.

ꕤ TRUST ME WHEN I TELL YOU. this boy 100% has a locked folder of a ton of pictures of you. He can have pictures from your born day and you would never know where he got them from.

He probably bribed your dad to get these photos.

And the way he takes pictures of you all the time.

If you two meet on campus on a busy day and you only have 2 minutes to talk, HE WILL TAKE A PIC OF YOU.

he just loves you like that, and he probably looks at these pictures all the time.

You thought he just takes pics for fun and delets them later, but you found out that it's totally the opposite.

"Yo niki, can I change the song?" Sunoo asks from the passenger seat, niki sitting right behind him with the aux plugged in his phone.

"Yeah sure" niki hands him his phone, being stupid enough to not close the opened folder that's FLOODED with your pics.

"Do you seriously have a full folder of y/n pictures?" Sunoo says and nikis eyes widen, snatching his phone from sunoos hold as you stare at him with a smile.

"Wait you do? I want to see" you say and he just rolls his head back, wondering why everything gets exposed by his bandmates, he can never live in peace.

ꕤ anywhere, everywhere, all the time. Your scrunchie or hair tie is always around his srist.

First sleepover? He stole a hair tie.

You went out on a cafe date and you need to tie your hair? He has one!

It's the start of his concert but he almost forgot to take off your hair scrunchie from his wrist.

He always will Have one.

It came to a point where fans started questioning it.

Whenever he comes over he steals one, or whenever you let your hair down, he just steals it and never returns it.

You started to think you will never see them again (you won't)

He has a collection. Trust me.

It just makes him feel close to you, but he will never say it, he hides it by saying 'you always lose your hair ties, and you always whine when we're out that you want to tie your hair that's why I have one with me'

Total lie, but you find him adorable so you let him.

ꕤ okay this may sound stupid, but you and niki would definitely buy colouring books and colour together when you're alone in the dorm, away from the eyes of your friends.

Now look me in the eyes and say he wouldn't do that.

One day you were hanging together and you saw he had a colouring game so you just bought some colouring books without saying anything to him.

And then you just go to his dorm, your bag filled with colours and colouring books, and you 'force' him to colour with you.

(You let him pick the drawing)

You two took it so seriously, assigning each one with colours and the spaces they should colour, and you definitely made a competition about who would and wouldn't go out of line.

It just became your thing at this point.

© voikiraz 2O24

[literaila]

house rules (roommate au)

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru keeps an infinite amount of space between him and everyone else."

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, slight angst, mentions of tampons (terrifying), suggestive comments, absurdly long, alternate universe characters

a/n: to all of my frequent readers--i have never claimed to be sane :)

*

in the broad spectrum of things, opening the door in nothing but your bathrobe and a ridiculously bright orange clay mask is not the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you. 

oh no, puking on your first ever date at seventeen definitely takes the cake. finding your seventh-grade friends bent over a table reading your diary--in which you wrote many explicit things about them, not to mention, yourself--might be even worse. riding your bike into the pond by your house in front of all of your--much older, much cooler--neighbors, even. picking up your coffee in your favorite cafe and spilling it, which was not only devastating but humiliating because you managed to spill your mocha on every other drink waiting there (effectively banning you from returning) still haunts your dreams. even walking down the street and trying to pretend like you didn't just trip over air in front of every single one of your peers still lingers in your mind, waiting for a moment of peace before it attacks.

you're used to the feeling of dread in your stomach and the nights spent thinking about all of these moments, like a scrapbook in your mind--just there to make your skin itch. 

but, it does get a little bit worse when you realize the man you've opened the door to is none other than a potential roommate; and when you remember that you forgot he was coming. 

or when you have to pull your robe tighter around your abdomen just to make sure that you don't give this man a show before you even shake his hand. 

"is this apartment 214?" he asks, looking right at you--and your legs, naturally--with a confused grin on his face, but grin nonetheless. 

so immediately you slam the door. 

you turn around, with wide eyes, face crackling from the movement, and check your phone frantically. yes, it is the 18th, and yes it is 11:32, which means he was supposed to be here over a half-an-hour ago. 

and also you've just slammed the door in his--satoru gojo, the only person who's even bothered to respond to your ad about an available room--face. 

oh, fuck. 

so you groan, refraining from knocking your head against the door just in case he can still hear, and open it again. a little bit less this time. 

"gojo?" you ask, voice rough and slightly irritated. 

"the one and only. i'm pretty sure this is the right apartment," he says, and you don't fail to notice his tone of voice as he continues, "but if it's not, then fate must've brought us together."

you narrow your eyes, hoping that he doesn't notice the specks of dust that ebb from your skin. "you're late." 

"and you're less than dressed." 

"i thought you stood me up." 

he snorts. "so you started an impromptu spa day? or was this supposed to be another perk of the apartment?" 

you glower, opening the door a bit more just so he can see the fury in your eyes. "i don't think someone who doesn't even text to cancel has any right to judge my self-care practices." 

"i didn't cancel. i'm here." 

"you're late." 

"so i've heard..." he drawls. 

you blink at him, and he blinks back--or at least, you're assuming. because he's wearing sunglasses even though it's cloudy outside. 

and he's aggressively taller than you. he might not even fit through the door. 

you don't look away, waiting for him to break. which he does because you're well-practiced in men of his standard. "so, are you going to let me in?" he asks. 

"are you going to apologize for being late?" 

"i'm sorry that i'm late," he says, immediately, with an air of fake sincerity. "i got stuck in traffic. i would've called, but my phone died." 

"really?" 

the smile reappears, as if from magic. "no, but did it make you want to let me in?" 

you glare even harder--which is tough, honestly--and begin to shut the door. until your plan is interrupted by a foot. "excuse you," you say, to this man, who you already hate. and his stupid chelsea boots.

"look, i'm sorry. i'm trying to ease the tension--because honestly i wasn't expecting to get an eyeful this early in the morning, and you seem uncomfortable--" 

you slam the door against his foot again. 

gojo doesn't even wince. "and also, you're, like, the only person with a room in the middle of october. and i... could really use a place to put my bed. so, can i look around, at least? i'll keep my eyes closed every time i'm facing your direction. i can even give you my rent money today if it works out."  

something in his voice already implies that it will. 

and, well. despite your very short robe and your very dry face mask, he is the only person who's even inquired about the room. and you desperately need a roommate; someone to clean up with, someone to make coffee for, someone to argue about toilet paper direction with, and, most importantly, someone who has money and can keep you from getting evicted from the only place you've lived since high school. 

so you sigh. think about moving back home and suffering at the will of your parents. 

it takes about three seconds to say, "will you wait out here while i get dressed?" 

an eyebrow peeks out from behind the sunglasses, as white as his hair. "how long?" 

"ten minutes. maybe twenty." 

"do you have a chair?" he asks and moves his foot from the door. 

and so you close it without answering and rush to your room to find something that's still clean. 

there's nothing that you'll actually wear, but satoru gojo doesn't deserve your fresh appearance anyway. he can have day-old wrinkled jeans and a t-shirt you got when you were twelve. 

as slow as humanly possible, you remove the face mask, trying to keep your hair out of the way, and think about putting on makeup--which you probably would have done, had you remembered he was even coming--but decide not to. 

in reality, it only takes about seven minutes for you to look mostly presentable and get rid of the mugs you left cluttered around the dining room table. 

but you wait an extra four, just to mess with him. 

and then, eleven minutes later, you open the door again to the man leaning against the wall, playing what looks like candy crush on his phone. 

you attempt a fake smile. 

"hey," he says, with that same grin, "you have clothes." 

you drop your face. "i will close this." 

he isn't phased, just pockets his phone and leans in to look behind you at the entryway. 

you roll your eyes, but open the door anyway, and usher him in. he rubs his feet against your welcome mat and toys with a keychain you have hanging from a coat rack, then looks to you, like he's waiting for a tour. which, you guess, he is.

"there's only two rooms, one bath. it's not very big, so if you need a lot of space..." 

"i can manage," he says, and follows you as you walk into the kitchen. "did you decorate?" 

"um... sort of." 

"sort of?" 

"i, uh, had a roommate before and he bought most of the decorations before i moved in. but i've added a few things. i'm not picky about aesthetics." 

gojo hums. "why'd he move out?" 

"we were together and he cheated on me," you say, flatly, as you have been for the past month and a half. "and then told me i couldn't use his netflix account anymore after i broke up with him." 

gojo merely blinks and gestures toward the wall behind you. "so you didn't buy that dancing frog thing?" 

you turn around, rolling your eyes. "no. i forgot that was there." 

"okay, good, 'cause that's hideous." 

you snort, but nod your head and walk down the hallway. gojo's footsteps follow you as you open the door to his potential bedroom. "it's the bigger of the two," you tell him, "but the bathroom is next to mine." 

"did you change rooms?" 

"what?" 

"when your ex moved out. why take the smaller one?" 

"oh," you rub a finger against the wall, rubbing dust off of it. "it was his room before we got together. and then we shared my current room. this was his man... den?" you try, shaking your head. "gaming room? slaughterhouse?" 

gojo snorts. 

"what?" 

"oh, nothing," he says, airy like he's teasing you. "just curious."

you step back so he can walk around, check the carpets for stains, or look for drywall you could've hidden a body behind. but he doesn't, only watches you as you furrow your brows. 

"you're not going to look around?" 

"it looks like the pictures." 

"yeah, but what if there are, like, bugs in the carpet? blood on the walls?" 

"are there bugs in the carpet?" he asks. "blood on the walls?" 

"not that i know of..." 

"great, then it's perfect," he says, and steps out of the room again, whistling as he goes. 

this time, you follow him, like he's the one giving the tour. 

he pauses at the door a couple of feet down. "this your room?" 

"yes." 

"can i see?" 

you scowl. "no. what do you mean 'it's perfect?'"

"i mean, i'd like to live here. it's nice. besides the frog." 

you lean against the wall, trying to inspect him for any mechanical parts. is this a ploy? some joke? "you've barely been here five minutes." 

"twenty with all the time i waited outside..." 

"you can't just take one look and say 'yup, this is good.'" 

"can't you?" he asks, challenging. 

"no." 

gojo's grin seems to widen, impossibly. "well, i'm not picky." 

and somehow you doubt that. 

but you don't get the chance to tell him that, or anything else, because he leans against the wall, still smiling at you, and asks, "so, are we roommates now?" 

"you haven't even seen the lease. or heard about the house rules." 

"house rules?" he repeats, dubiously. like you're making this up (which you are). 

"yes." 

"such as?" 

"no..." you pause, 'cause this is a fickle argument. something about his stupid smile makes you want to argue with him. or maybe it's the hair. or the sunglasses. "murdering anyone in the apartment." 

he laughs, unexpectedly, and sighs. "well, i guess i'll take my murdering someplace else." 

"and... you can't leave any utensils in the sink." 

"okay." 

"and i'm not cleaning up any beard shavings, or sharing my tampons with you, or any people you have over." 

"these are very extensive," he says, unserious. "anything else?" 

"i..." your brows furrow. "no hogging the bathroom. hot water is fickle. and you have to recycle." 

"it might be challenging, but we'll figure it out." 

"these are not negotiable." 

he only continues to smile at you. 

eventually, after staring back with a frown that feels slightly permanent for more than a minute, you sigh again. at least you won't have to worry about moving out. 

"fine. you still want to live here?" 

"mmhmm." 

"okay," and you stick your hand out for him to shake like this is a business transaction. 

and it seems that you'll be seeing a lot more of that grin in the future. 

*

living with satoru gojo is not... well, it's not hard. he's a normal enough roommate. 

he pays his rent on time and doesn't touch the coffee you make in the morning most days--coughing when he does. he man spreads on the couch and watches movies way too loud and doesn't hang his bag up at the door, preferring to, instead, set it on the counter like a maniac. he whistles when he walks, and wears his stupid sunglasses 80% of the time, and grins at you when you're irritated, and, honestly, he's not really half bad. 

he doesn't leave any huge messes for you to clean up (mostly because he doesn't use the kitchen or the dining table ever). he doesn't invite people over that keep you up all night (because he's gone most nights). and, actually, he keeps the bathroom quite clean (even if he takes up well more than half of the shower space with his weird face creams and deep conditioning treatments). 

but satoru gojo is hard. 

it's not what he does, but rather who he is. with his infuriating good looks--taking up most of the fair share for the rest of the population--and his subtle charm, which, if you didn't know who he was, might actually work on you, and his morning voice and his messy hair and just the way he lives. 

like breathing is just what he's supposed to be doing. like he doesn't need to worry about a thing because nothing should matter if he decides he doesn't want it to. 

so easygoing and naturally intuitive and far too exhausting for you. 

because, as a fatal flaw of your own, you love to mess with him. somedays you'll hope he shows up just so you have someone to fight with. just so you'll be irritated instead of stressed, frustrated instead of exhausted. 

it's kind of addicting, in a way. and masochistic, but you've never claimed to be completely sane. 

and honestly, gojo's just asking for it. 

after a mere month of living with his aura around, you come to expect his cockiness. you live to take him down a notch.

so when he's up this early in the morning, whistling like it's his god-given right, you scowl at him just as he enters the room. 

"woah," he says, sliding on a bar stool in front of you. "starting early this morning?" 

"you're banned from talking to me until noon." 

"is this about the ice cream i ate? cause there was only a little left..." 

"no it's--" you pause, frowning at him. "you ate my ice cream?" 

he lays his entire torso on the counter, pathetically. "i was dying, okay? low blood sugar was going to kill me, and i couldn't see anything else but that ice cream and it wasn't even very good anyway, so, really, i was saving you from having to endure the rest of it." 

"you ate my ice cream?" you repeat. 

"i'll buy you more. a better kind. and then you'll understand that i was doing you a favor." 

"i might kill you." 

"i thought we banned homicide from the apartment." 

"i was going to eat that," you whine, shoving his hands away from trying to grab your mug. 

he smiles, too bright for so early in the morning. "yesterday you told me sweets weren't an appropriate breakfast." 

you scoff. "yeah, cause that's all you eat. you need a green smoothie or something in the morning just to keep your heart beating for the rest of the day."

"my heart beats very well, thank you. wanna feel?" 

you roll your eyes and sigh into your mug. "i'll be expecting three pints of ice cream as an apology later tonight." 

gojo has already moved on, typing away on his phone, probably to some groupies he manipulated into loving him. "i can't. it's flip night at laurent's tonight, and suguru has already threatened me into coming." 

"why did you say laurent's like i'm supposed to know what you mean?" 

"laurent's," he repeats, looking at you.

you blink. 

"the bar?" he questions, like you're crazy. 

"okay, sorry, i don't exclusively hang out at bars filled with frat boys." 

"it's very sophisticated,” he corrects, his frat boy nature very obvious. “i mean, i frequent there." 

you laugh. 

"clearly you've never been." 

"i'm still expecting ice cream." 

he sits back in his chair. "i have class all day." 

"like you've never skipped a class." 

"encouraging ditching?" he asks, mock appalled. "what kind of roommate are you?" 

"the kind that doesn't steal her roommate's food. just get one of your servants to pick it up.”

gojo waves a hand at you, and that statement, apparently. and then he types another thing into his phone—to said servants you assume—and grins again. his face must’ve missed the feeling. "how about i buy you a drink instead? you can come with me tonight. meet my friends. maybe make some of your own." 

"haha," you cross your arms. "if they're as bad as you, then i'm good." 

"you'd probably love them. they also like to torment me, even though i'm pretty and perfectly nice to them." 

"i seriously doubt that." 

his eyes--oh, yes, this early in the morning he skips the sunglasses--sparkle like gems. "i have to play wingman for suguru, but it probably won't take long. you can mingle. meet someone. i think you could use a way to relieve some of that stress." 

"oh, you mean the stress that you cause?" 

gojo grins and you realize that you've fallen into his trap. "i'm willing to help out whenever you like," he says, deviously, "you just haven't asked yet, sweetheart." 

"nor ever will," you grind out.

gojo hums and taps his fingers against the countertop. the two of you stare at each other, grin matching scowl, and eventually, he loses the contest. "so, can i plan to steal you away from eternal solitude at six?" he asks.

and just because he's right--in his weird, satoru gojo way--you nod. it might be nice to get out of the house; and meet people other than the lost freshman at work. and because you know that gojo will continue to bother you about it otherwise. he’s a very difficult person.

as if proving it, he grins all pleased with himself, so you add, "but you're buying all of my drinks." before he can get too ahead of himself. 

*

it's not nearly loud enough in this bar. as soon as you walk in, you're sure of it. 

because even with a band up on the stage, singing about loving someone or money or drugs, you can still hear gojo as he flirts with every single living thing in his twenty-foot vicinity. 

he's got his grin on, styled his hair all fancy, and his clothes are signature in the way that you've probably seen him wear the same thing fifty times. maybe in a row. 

but the people in this bar don't care. no, they flirt back like they already know who satoru gojo is. and maybe they do. 

you don't really care, but you do have to drag him along so he can show you where you're supposed to sit and tell you the names of his friends before you get drunk enough to forget. 

it takes three minutes of trailing after gojo like a lost puppy to remember that you hate going out. that you hate everything about your so-called roommate and you should've shoved his invitation down the drain along with him. 

as if gojo can hear this thought, he peeks over his shoulder, smirking at you. "enjoying the view?" he asks, and you try to trip him by stepping on his heel. 

unfortunately, he only swings around, walking backward through the crowd like it's going to part for him. 

oh, wait. it does. 

you frown at him. 

"what? you don't like the music?" he pouts because that would personally offend him, of course. 

"where are we going? i think we've passed that table four times already." 

"i have to say hi," he says like this is obvious. "it's rude to just walk into some place without greeting everyone." 

"do you own this bar?" 

"what? no." 

"then find your friends so we can sit down," you grumble, trying not to lose him in the sea of people. it's unlikely that you've ever seen a bar this packed. more like a club, honestly, but you wouldn't put it past gojo to lie. 

eventually, he does lead you to a table, announcing, with a flourish. "don't worry, everyone, i'm here," while he bows--because of course he does. "and," he adds, "i brought a stowaway." 

you peek around his shoulder to meet three people, all staring at him with the same unamused expression. one, suguru--from the many photo albums and 'trips down memory lane' gojo has bombarded you with--gives you a little wave. the other two just continue to stare at gojo. 

"everyone, this is y/n, my favorite roommate. y/n, that one is suguru," he says, pointing towards him, "which you already know. the short one is shoko, and the blonde one is--" 

"nanami," you cut in, "hey." 

gojo frowns, looking between the two of you. "you know each other?" 

"we have analytics together," you answer, sliding in to sit across them, next to gojo, naturally. "i usually cheat off of his notes." 

"she gets me coffee," nanami adds, like this information is imperative. 

gojo grins again. "why didn't you say anything nanamin?" 

"because i didn't realize." 

"who else could i have been talking about? do you know several pretty girls named y/n? you a player?" 

nanami has a very familiar frown on his face, and is about to say something when suguru seems to kick gojo under the table. "satoru, i told you to stop referring to other people as 'players.'"

gojo merely rolls his eyes. "can't fight the truth," he says.

you almost smile. almost. but your eyes drift over to shoko, who sighs. "how'd you get stuck with this one?" she asks, not harsh, but not quite soft. 

"he promised me alcohol." 

she nods knowingly. 

speaking of, you turn towards him. "you and i both know there's only one reason i'm here." 

gojo flicks your forehead, but stands up. "i'll be right back," he says, "don't miss me too much." 

and you all watch as he walks away, conveniently stopping at least four times to talk to several different people. 

you groan. "he's not coming back is he?" 

"he will," suguru says, not quite reassuringly. "probably. in an hour or so." 

you cover your eyes with your hands and listen as the three of them laugh at you. 

*

it probably is an hour or two later that you see gojo again. 

you'd fallen into smooth conversation with his friends, talking about classes, and dancing, and the fact that you all shared a common enemy. it was easy enough, talking to them, like ripples in a pond. but surely if gojo had stuck around, it would've been more of a tsunami. you could see the appeal--at least for someone like your roommate. they all seemed responsible enough. 

but shoko, after a twenty-second lull in conversation, decided she was better off drinking at home, and nanami quickly agreed. watching them, compared to gojo, disappear into the crowd was a different experience. 

you bite your cheek unnervingly, wondering if it made you a bad roommate to want to let gojo suffer here alone and walk home by himself. 

suguru pats you on the shoulder when he stands up a moment later, brushing his pants. "i'll go find satoru," he says, softly. you feel that same irritation when you realize that gojo had probably lied to you about coming here for suguru. it was almost infinitely more times likely that suguru had come here for him. "do you want me to tell him you went home?" 

"how likely is it that he'll go home with someone else and it won't matter if i wait for him anyway?" 

the dark-haired man considers this with a sly grin on his face. "if i tell him you left, he'll find someone to cling to. but if you're here he'll go home with you. probably drunk, though." 

you run a hand through your hair, waving him off. "it's fine. i'll wait, then. but tell him that the homicide clause doesn't apply to outside the apartment." 

suguru laughs, not questioning this, and walks away. 

you sit there, toying with a glass someone had left behind, watching the people around you dance like it really was a club. with absolutely no one watching. not even god, evidently.

as usual, gojo lied--even though you hadn't really believed him when he said this place was sophisticated. the clear air of stale beer and vomit is enough to prove that.

you almost laugh bitterly, but then a mop of white hair appears in the chair next to you, and his grin is wider, larger than you'd remembered. 

how long had that taken? 

"hello hello, roomie," he sings, leaning close to you. he moves his chair, shuffling across the floor so that he's near enough to touch. "i heard you were threatening me again." 

"you could hear that over the sighs of your fan club?" 

gojo giggles, like he's in on the joke. his breath falls on your face. "i like it when you tell me you're going to murder me, you know." 

"of course you do. how much did you drink?" 

"it's not the quantity," he whispers, "it's the quality." 

"your friends told me you could get drunk off of hand sanitizer." 

gojo leans back, his long legs knocking against yours. "are they spreading those rumors again?"

you kick his foot away from yours but don't say anything. his eyes seem somehow wider right now, even behind his dark shades. almost like you could see them. 

you blink, and gojo does it back. his lashes fluttering just enough to tell.

it almost makes you smile. laugh a little bit at his innocence--especially right now, when he's clearly not himself--some more unperturbed version of who he normally is (if that's even possible). he probably wouldn't even remember if you did laugh at him. but you refrain anyway. 

gojo gasps suddenly. "oh! let's go to the store. you want ice cream, right?" his elbow slides onto the table as he rests his chin on a hand. 

you kick his foot again. "i wanted a drink," you correct, "but apparently you got distracted." 

"'s not my fault," he almost slurs, sadly. 

"are you ready to go home?" 

"i'm ready to leave. so we can get your ice cream. want to share a spoon?" his grin is unabashed. you could tell him that he is a vile, disgusting creature right now and he would probably agree. 

you don't, for whatever reason. 

"i don't think anywhere's open, and i don't want to drag you around while you're this drunk." 

he taps your thigh with a finger. "hey. i'll have you know that i am a very proficient walker." 

"oh, really?" 

"learned when i was a kid and everything." 

"wow, gojo, i'm very impressed," you deadpan, and look around. "do you need to say goodbye to suguru?" 

he frowns. then points to himself. "gojo," he repeats, and into the crowd, "suguru." 

like he's an actual toddler.

you shake your head and stand up, still looking. "can you text him?" 

"i guess," he mumbles, getting out his phone and almost dropping it. he frowns like this is deeply upsetting. 

so you grab it from him. "what's your passcode?" 

"one one one one." you look at him with a brow raised. "cause i'm number one," he answers, pridefully. 

you scoff, but look through his texts anyway, and tell suguru that you're taking him home--and never ever coming out with him again--and then hand it back to gojo. 

he smiles at you. you roll your eyes. 

then he grabs your hand, and begins to pull. "c'mon before they find us," he says, and it doesn't make any sense. 

but were you really expecting it to? 

*

perhaps the aftermath of drunk gojo is even more entertaining than the actual thing. 

shoko hadn't been kidding when she said he was the worst drunk--and even worse when hungover. 

how do you know this? oh, because you woke up at one in the afternoon--perfectly respectable for a saturday--and as soon as you dared to even open your door gojo was already groaning about the noise. so you slam it a little as you leave. 

there's a grunt, like a dying cat, and two minutes later he is walking into the kitchen with slits for eyes and cotton for hair. you're not sure what he's wearing--some video game shirt--but it's wrinkled enough to match your roommate's appearance. disheveled and slightly peeved, he's almost glaring at you--like he's capable of such a thing.

you try not to laugh. 

"where's the bacon?" he asks, almost slipping off of the counter as he leans on it. his hands rubbing at his eyes. 

"sorry?" 

"wheres the bacon?" he repeats, his voice a different register this morning. "i need emergency bacon." 

"so make some. there's a pan and probably a package in the fridge." 

he whines, falling against the counter again. his natural habitat. "i can't make it, i'm dying. you really want your terminally ill roommate to cook for himself?" 

"i want my overdramatic roommate to act like an adult for a change." 

he blows a raspberry, and his face is hidden beneath the tile of your table. you can only see his hair, which looks surprisingly soft for his state. 

"did you lose some pigment in your hair?" 

gojo snaps up, immediately, gasping. he pulls a strand so he can look at it, blinking rapidly. his panic quickly fades, and he blows the strand out of his eyes. "it's just dirty." 

"from what?" 

"i forgot to buy new bedsheets," he grumbles, once again hiding his face. 

"your bedsheets are dying your hair?" you ask, with a raised brow. 

"they're dirty," he repeats, rolling his eyes as he sits up. "i need to go to the store." 

"um..." you look at him as he slumps against his own body, feeling greatly concerned for his survival abilities. "you buy new bedsheets?" you confirm, "instead of washing them?" 

he waves a hand, blowing you, and your clearly audaious sentence away. "bacon," he says, flatly. 

you roll your eyes. "pan," you point, "stove." 

gojo looks like he might start crying.

and it might be his state or the fact that you don't think you've ever seen him like this--in the month you've known him--all lost and confused and a little bit ruffled at the edges. gojo's snark is usually in its top form when you see him in the morning. 

so, just this once, you grab a pan, and turn on the burner. 

"i'll be expecting payment for my time," you say, as you grab the bacon from the fridge. 

and maybe you get your first real smile from your roommate. 

*

you're lying on the couch reading a book when he appears, swarming like a fly. 

"hello, roommate," he says, uncharacteristically pleasant, and then he sits on your legs. you try to kick him, but it proves futile because apparently he's a giant, so you wiggle your way out from under him and sit up, frowning. 

"don't you have a room?" you ask. 

"i could ask you the same thing," gojo tries to tickle your feet, but you move them away before he can. your frown turns into more of a glare. "what?" he asks, "we can't hang out?" 

"no." 

gojo pouts. "but we're roommates," he says as if it's an explanation. like being roommates binds your souls and forever intertwines the two of you. 

"we are roommates because i had an extra room and you had money. that doesn't seem like thrilling grounds for friendship." 

"well, how about the fact that i let you use my hair dryer the other day?" he lays down on the other side of the couch, smirking at you. "that's a friendly thing to do." 

"that's the polite thing to do. i'm trying to train you. speaking of which..." you point towards the floor, "down boy." 

he takes off his sunglasses, throwing them on the coffee table--which probably explains the broken mug pieces you found in the trash the other day--and lays back with his arms behind his head. his eyes are closed. "i can't be trained." 

"clearly." 

you sigh and relax in your corner of the couch, picking up your book again. his presence lurks like a nightmare, but, you figure, eventually, he'll get bored. 

you just can't entertain him. it's like the advice you'd give to a kid being bullied: they only care about your reaction... 

as if proving your point, after twenty-seven seconds of silence, he opens one eye, peeking at you. "whatcha reading?" 

"a book." 

he plucks it right out of your hands, inspecting the cover. how he got across the couch in 0.2 seconds, you don't know. 

"what is this?" he asks, snickering a little. "word porn?" 

you take it back. "it's called romance, gojo. not that i'd expect you to be familiar with anything of the sort." 

he smirks, laying back down. "i have references if you need proof." 

you shake your head, flipping him off, and continue to scan the words on your page without retaining any information. 

seriously, his presence is impending doom itself. 

"it's okay," he whispers, "you don't need to be embarrassed. everyone craves intimacy." 

"i crave my fist on your face." 

he snorts. "that's not very friendly." 

you sigh, dropping the book again so you can look at him and his obnoxious eyes. "look, i'm tired, it's been a long week, and if you don't leave me alone i'll probably lock you outside." 

"probably?" 

"it's that or throwing you out the window." 

gojo laughs once again, but mimes zipping his mouth shut. you roll your eyes and open your book again. your feet are entwined, but you don't mock this--if only because you're sure that gojo will start an argument about it.

the quiet lasts for two minutes and then he turns on the tv. 

you groan and he laughs at you.

*

you're getting used to having him around, at least. and in turn, his friends. because they seem to be a package deal. 

after that night at the bar, gojo--apparently--feels much more comfortable having them over. trying to bake cookies with shoko or interrupting what's supposed to be a study session between the four of them. 

at least, you think, watching this happen, that you're not the only person forced to endure him. 

but it's kind of... nice to see him act like a normal person, for once. to get teased by someone other than you and pout like a begrudged younger brother. the person who invites his friends over for game night (getting aggressively angry every time he loses) isn't satoru gojo, the man whom everyone is drawn to. he isn't some drunk guy charming everyone around him or a roommate that you just happened upon. 

he's just another college student, laughing along with people who aren't nearly as bad as him. 

and, naturally, you find yourself intertwined with these 'hang-outs' because the apartment is small, and you don't want to be left out--no, you choose not to think about how pathetic it is that satoru gojo has more friends than you do, so please don't bring it up. 

and it's on this night when you're not playing uno with the four of them, but rather, watching behind all of their backs and trying to mess with gojo as much as possible. 

you pretend to be idly cleaning in the kitchen, when really you're standing behind him, mouthing to suguru what color he has whenever he's about to win. 

"hmm," the sly-mouthed man says this time, "green." 

shoko puts down a seven, and gojo groans again. "seriously?" he asks, but begins drawing cards. 

you try--and fail--not to giggle behind him. to which, of course, he turns around with an obvious glare in his eyes. "what are you doing?" 

the sink isn't on, and there are no dishes to be seen in the kitchen. nonetheless, you point uselessly to the roll of paper towels on the counter. "cleaning." 

"you're cleaning air?" 

"sorry, i didn't realize i was banned from loitering in my own home." 

he turns back around, looking at suguru for a moment, then back at you. it's very hard to keep the smile off of your face, especially when nanami looks like he's about to break and shoko is pretending to rifle through her cards again. 

how many times have you done this to him? oh, just a mere eight. 

to be fair, it would've ended a long time ago if gojo wasn't such a sore loser. 

he looks back and forth once more. then he frowns. "what are you doing?" 

"do you want me to go hide in my room, gojo?" you ask, trying to scowl. "because i will. i was just trying to be hospitable--" 

"nanamin," he interrupts. "go." 

so another round of cards is placed, and this time suguru plays normally, keeping his face straight to not draw any suspicion. you lean against the wall, enjoying yourself. 

(don't tell anyone, but this is the most fun you've had in a while). 

and then, after a couple of rounds go by, you finally clear your throat. gojo turns to glare at you through his sunglasses and says "go stand behind suguru if you're going to watch. i don't trust you." 

you raise your brows but do as he says. 

and when shoko has to draw the next time, you smile and tap a couple of times on your thigh. 

suguru does his best impression of gojo's grin, and says, "draw four," to shoko. 

she smiles back. turns to gojo. "draw four," she repeats. 

and he stares at the two of them, then the cards stacked on top of each other, and then to you, right across him. "what are you doing? i know you're doing something." 

"satoru, she's just watching--" 

"no, she's smiling." he looks back to you, "you're smiling. you don't do that unless i'm in pain." 

"so you just assume that you're losing cause i'm... what? drawing your cards for you? shuffling the stack so only you get the bad hands?" you cock a brow at him, willing yourself not to look at anyone else at the table. it would only end in disaster. 

"i--" gojo runs a hand through his hair. then he sighs and begins drawing his eight cards. 

and several rounds later--with gojo losing once again--you've begun moving around the table like you're inspecting each player. gojo doesn't let you look at his cards though. 

and it takes a while before he notices anything. particularly after suguru wins for the third time in a row. 

he looks at everyone--brows pulled together, irritated eyes hiding behind his sunglasses, and his cheeks are flushed from how frustrated he is--and as soon as you start laughing at his face, everyone else does too. suguru throws his cards down and shakes his head. nanami shuffles the deck while trying to keep his laugh muffled--but it's there. and shoko is outwardly laughing at him, pointing at gojo and then at you. 

"are you guys stealing the cards?" he asks, almost disbelieving, his voice so childlike that you start laughing even harder. "look at the deck! it's half the size that it was." 

and then he's standing up and inspecting you, sticking his hands up your sleeves and finding dozens of cards hiding there, falling onto the floor. 

gojo gasps in outrage, but it doesn't even matter to you. 

everyone else is clutching their stomachs and gojo begins to pout. "you're all traitors," he's saying, and "how long have you been doing that?" and you almost can't breathe-- 

so yeah. you don't really mind these kinds of nights. and you don't complain about the messes gojo and his friends leave behind. 

*

you shouldn't have given suguru your number. this much is obvious. 

but, to be fair, you weren't exactly thinking when you were talking to him about a self-help book you'd picked up, and he was mentioning a podcast, and then he was taking your phone and putting himself in it--which, in itself, should not be dangerous--telling you that he'd send you a link and that you should let him know if you liked it, and that was that. 

and really, there shouldn't be any repercussions to this. suguru is your sort of friend, and sort of friends can text on occasion. 

except for the fact that he's also satoru gojo's friend. so when you wake up at ten--silently thanking yourself for taking a day off before a week of back-to-back classes and work--he's already texted you, and it's obvious that you failed somewhere in life. 

maybe when you accidentally invited a demon into your house and allowed him to stay. 

from suguru :p : 

hey satoru is supposed to be in class right now and he won't answer me 

can you please kick him awake? 

but maybe it wasn't a mistake. because at least you have a good excuse to give gojo a bruise. 

so you creep down the hall, reluctantly knocking on his door even though it ruins the element of surprise (you're not a monster) and listening as there's no response. 

gojo must be asleep. or dead. honestly, you might've killed him in your sleep--wouldn't be the first time. 

so you peek the door open, realizing now that you haven't been in his room since he moved in, and watch as a figure slithers under the covers almost before you notice. gojo is completely covered except for the foot he's left hanging off of the side of the bed. 

"get up," you tell him, looking around at the sparse decorations he's put up. there are books, candy wrappers, and socks all over the floor, but it's not the messiest room you've ever seen. which is slightly surprising, considering all that you know about gojo. 

he whines from under the cover, turning so you get a view of exposed skin on his back. "sleeping," he says as if you might believe him. 

so you creep over trash and textbooks and pull the blanket right off of him. 

gojo is already looking at you, pouting. his hair is in his eyes and his mouth is puffy--probably from kissing his pillow in his sleep. "what if i was naked under here?" he asks you, very seriously. "i don't let just anyone see that, you know?" 

"you're wearing the same silk pajamas you wear every night." 

he tries to pull the blanket away from you, his fingers peeling yours away. he huffs. "it's the principle. you don't just wake a man up from slumber." 

you snort. "did you travel a century in your sleep?" 

"yes, now go away." and then he falls back into the blankets, his words muffled. 

"you have class, your highness. i've been sent to fetch you." 

one eye appears from under the blanket. "how do you know my schedule?" 

"telepathy. now get up." 

"i can't," gojo fake coughs. "i'm sick." 

"suguru said you'd say that." 

he groans, turning over and muffling a few explicit words that sound like a curse upon his best friend. 

you poke his back. "did you sleep through your alarm?" 

he doesn't answer. his body has gone limp like you might not notice that he's there if he stays still for long enough. so you pull his hair, turning his head towards you. "you're not usually this whiny in the morning," you tell him. 

"why are you so mean to me?" 

you hum, pretending to consider it. "i think it's the hair. i find it pretentious." 

"i could sue you. discrimination is very serious. i've got a good lawyer, too."

"i'll sue back for mental damages." 

he laughs, and wiggles from your grasp. 

you sigh and finally sit down at the edge of his bed, observing the lollipops he's left lying on his bedside table. gojo's bones seem to crack as he sits up with you, moaning the whole way. 

you're silently observing him--with his slightly red eyes and heinous mouth. you're not used to seeing him like this in the morning; usually, he's chipper and annoying. when he walks into the kitchen in the morning you half expect him to start singing. 

but this gojo is tired. he rubs at his eyes. "did suguru text you?" 

"yup." 

"he's a terrible friend." 

you nudge him, almost like an agreement. "why aren't you in class?" 

"what's even the point of going? it's not like i get a reward."

"i think the reward is graduating, but you might have to fact-check that one." 

he nudges you back and then takes your hand. his fingertips are soft as they trace the tendons and veins he can see on your skin. his hands are softer than you'd have expected. his eyes are wary as they look towards the floor, his mouth twisting in displeasure. but he doesn't stop touching you, he does so idly that you almost don't notice. "i have an a in the class," he tells you, "and i already know most of the material so why would i go to every lecture?" 

maybe it's the way he says it; so sure and nonchalant, in his typical over-dramatic fashion. maybe it's just that he's never mentioned any of his classes to you, or the fact that he's taking any. maybe he's just crazy--that's the most likely option--but you're suddenly curious. 

"what class is it?" 

"theoretical physics." 

you whistle, shaking your head. "and you already know most of it?" 

gojo drops your hand and looks at you. his eyes are wide. maybe he's just realized that he's been talking to you this whole time. "when i was a kid my, uh, my dad had a bunch of textbooks in his office that i used to read through every time i got in trouble," he grins, "which was a lot." 

"i can imagine." 

"well, it turns out you can only read something so many times before it becomes ingrained in your brain." 

you pull at his bedsheet. "do you have a test today, or something?" 

"no, suguru just thinks i'm lazy." 

you laugh, because he is. gojo rolls his eyes at you so you don't say it. you're a little bit surprised, actually. you knew that gojo wasn't stupid (or at least, you might've known) but there's something about the proof of it. like you can't just read right through him. like maybe there's still more to learn about your roommate and maybe there always has been. 

or maybe you're just tired, and he's always had the strange ability to draw irrationality out of you. and also he's an idiot.

"i just..." he starts and his smile fades, but only a little bit. he keeps a layer on while he peels a layer off. "i mean, i like the class. math is cool. but i just don't feel like it today, you know?" 

and there's something about his voice as he says it. steady and true, as always, but softer. but compeltely honest. 

and you've heard him complain about a million things, like every time you and suguru talk about something he doesn't understand or when the door isn't unlocked when he gets home, or when you won't add his one shirt to your laundry. you've heard every whine and every groan come from his lips. 

but he's not complaining about this. just confiding. 

and there's such a drastic difference that it takes you a moment to respond. 

but you do eventually. "yeah, i know," you tell him and rest a hand on his thigh to squeeze. 

and the way that gojo looks at you after--like you might just be saying it to make him feel better--is perplexing. his eyes are blue and maybe you've just noticed this--just started to realize that you're actually sitting with him like a normal person. and that he actually looks grateful. 

you shake your head, willing yourself to look away, because maybe there is something sort of magnetic about your roommate. and it feels impossible to only have noticed this now. to realize how warm he is next to you, and how your muscles tense up when he shifts. gojo is looking at you, and it might be the first time.

so you stand up, flicking his chin. "i'll tell suguru that you're puking your guts up." 

"really?" 

"yup. but next time you sleep through a class i'm going to wake you up by pouring ice water on your face." 

he grins. "cruel." 

"and i'll record it." 

you step over candy wrappers and dirty socks as you leave his room, and as soon as the door is closed you sigh in relief. you're probably better off never opening that door again.

*

it's a ridiculously cold night when he shows up. 

you're sitting at the front desk in the library, pretending to study for a mid-term, and trying to smile at the fifth lost library card you've heard about tonight. you got this job at the beginning of the year, and it pays horribly. but at least you can sit around and study, most weekends it's quiet enough to take a nap, and no one tends to bother you when you're drooling all over the reception desk. 

most weekends, that is, because as soon as he walks in through the door--letting in air so brisk that it has the potential to kill you--it gets significantly louder. 

because satoru gojo is not affected by trivial things such as snow, or blizzards, or the fact that the library is supposed to close in less than ten minutes... 

still, you don't really notice him--a rare circumstance that you will question later that night--until he's right next to you, breathing in your ear. 

"slacking on the clock?" he asks, and just for a moment, you almost disembowel him with the pen you're holding in your hand. 

but then you grunt, used to this sort of intrusion from your roommate, and push his head away. "how did you find me?" you ask him, because, honestly, this job is just an escape from his neverending antics at your house (no, it doesn't matter that you got the job before you knew that such an annoying person could possibly exist). 

"i microchipped you in your sleep," gojo says, smoothly, sitting in the chair right next to yours, swiveling around. "i thought i told you about that?" 

you blatantly look at the clock and ignore him. "you know that the library closes in seven minutes?" 

"...and?" 

"so go torment someone else," you answer, standing up with a stack of fileable papers, "i'm busy until eight." 

"i'll help," gojo says, eager as always, and takes half of your stack. "where to?" 

it is from two months of experience that you know he will not leave you alone. even if you chew off his fingernails and keep them to make into necklaces, gojo will follow you around as long as you make it clear you don't want him to. 

so you walk towards the copying room, smiling at all of the sleep-deprived students you pass by and rolling your eyes when gojo does the same. 

"how did you even find the library?" 

gojo walks like he has absolutely no equilibrium; knocking into you every couple of steps, and then falling in the other direction. it must be a consequence of all of his strenuous leaning. 

so he bumps into you as he replies, "tracker," like it's obvious. 

you snort. "no, seriously. i didn't think you knew that libraries existed. aren't you allergic to reading?" 

"hey!" he tries to trip you. "i'll have you know that i am very studious. top of my class." 

"that's why you pay suguru to write your papers for you, right?" 

gojo makes a small noise in the back of his throat. "he doesn't write them," he grumbles. "well, not all of them." 

you snort and open a door for him to follow through.

"my study group meets here on wednesdays," gojo answers, finally. 

"you're a part of a study group?" 

"where do you think i go all of the time?" 

you briefly consider this, setting the papers down. "cemeteries to mourn all of the people you've annoyed to death, probably. or your girlfriend's house." you shrug.

gojo sets his stack on top of yours, diligently lining them up. "i don't do that every night," he drawls, rolling his eyes. and then he winks at you. "and i don't have a girlfriend. thanks for asking." 

you mess up his stack and turn away from him. "sorry, i meant girlfriends as in plural. girlfriends." 

"nope, again." 

gojo follows closely behind you as you begin to lock up all of the spare rooms, turning off lights and looking for any lost items. "commitment issues?" you ask, fake sympathy clouding your voice. 

"sweetheart, if you want me, then just say that. you don't need to pretend to worry about anyone else." his cockiness is infuriating, but you don't even bother to scold him for it. you turn towards him with sharp eyes.

"do i seem worried to you?" 

"no, but you're a bad actor," gojo hums, fingertips grazing along your skin as he inspects your face. "denial is serious. you might want to see a doctor." 

"you would know," you answer, glaring and pulling away from him. the two of you walk as people begin to trek out of the library, no longer held captive by the idea of studying. 

gojo is much too close, as usual, his sweater brushing against yours. 

"how'd you even know i was here?" you ask him, after a minute of silence. 

"please," he answers, grinning down at you. "i got a PI as soon as you gave me my key." 

you squint. "did you actually?" 

he laughs. "no. you told shoko, and shoko told me..." 

you nod, clearing the desk of your things, tossing your bag at gojo for him to carry. "so why are you here?" 

he clears his throat, unplugging the cord to your computer and wrapping it around his hand. "i was walking by, and i thought i'd see if you wanted to come with me for drinks after your shift."

"drinks?" you repeat, taking the cord from his hands. 

"flip night." 

you groan. "i am never participating in that again after what happened last time." 

"it wasn't that bad." 

"i had to drag you home and you almost threw up in my hair." 

gojo smiles. "consider yourself lucky." 

you push him out of the way and put your coat on. then you turn off the lights and push in all of the chairs, gojo not helping at all. "i didn't even get my drink," you remind him. 

"okay, so let me make it up to you."

and his voice is a bit different. still arrogant, naturally, still smiling and easy--but maybe he means it? maybe beneath his, frankly, soft exterior, he feels bad for getting drunk before you could? maybe he's not actually a complete monster? 

you laugh that thought away as soon as it comes.

you sigh. "are your friends going to be there?" 

"yes, our friends are. they suggested i invite you." 

you sigh--again, because the air is quite thin when gojo is around--and consider it. for just four seconds. but eventually, you shake your head. "i can't," you tell him, looping your arm around his so you can drag him out of the building. 

"why not?" 

"i'm tired, and i still need to study for a test on monday..." 

"do it in the morning." 

you give him a blank look. "i won't want to study if i'm hungover." 

"then don't study." 

you let go of his arm, shivering from the cold. gojo, of course, is not wearing a jacket, or even a little bit bothered by the air. "you're a terrible influence." 

he grins. "i get it from you." 

you shake your head, keeping the smile off of your face. "maybe some other time? when it's not freezing, and i don't have a big test?" 

gojo looks like he wants to argue with you some more--which he usually does--but eventually, his grin ebbs into something simple and he nods. "okay, but you have to come next time i ask." 

"no. what if i'm sick, or something?" you definitely would not put it past him to ask you as a method of torture. 

"that's what alcohol is for." he sticks out his hand, too big and too sly. 

but you relent, shaking with him, and rolling your eyes.

"okay, gojo. have fun. do not wake me up when you get home." 

and you turn to walk away, but his hand catches your wrist. "what are you doing?" he asks, brow furrowed. 

"...going home?" 

he lets go of you and flicks your forehead. "you're not walking back by yourself," he says, like it's a crime. "c'mon." 

and he falls into pace with you, even with his longer legs and fervent energy. 

"this is stupid--" you start to complain, but gojo reaches for the strap of your bag, sliding it off of your shoulder. he then slings it on his own, and pulls you in a bit closer by the hem of your jacket. 

he doesn't say anything, just shoves your hand in his pocket, and whistles as he walks you home. 

*

its a couple of weeks later when you're standing at the door again, trying not to open it more than necessary. 

but, really, how wide is too wide? will a half-opened door signal any longing? will he think that you want him back if you open it more than three inches to pass him his box of stuff that he'd left behind and take your key back? 

how do you navigate the trade-off of a frog statue that will probably haunt your dreams till the end of time? 

"key," you say, without any pleasantries, not bothering to even really look at him. 

even though he looks just the same, your ex. still the lying cheater you'd almost fallen in love with. 

is it wrong to miss his netflix password more than him? 

"thanks," he says, and you've probably been standing there with him for thirty seconds when a head appears on your shoulder. 

white hair gets in your eyes, and you try to push gojo away, but he's already intruded on this exchange and you know he's not going to leave. 

"go away," you tell him, not very softly. 

"hello," gojo holds his hand out over your shoulder, because, again, he is ridiculously tall. "i'm--" 

"key," you say again, swatting his hand away. 

your ex looks at your new roommate--with all of his charm and irritating sunglasses and perfectly shaped teeth--with obvious disdain. you want to push both of them out the door and live here by yourself forever, but unfortunately, living prices disagree. 

so you grab the key from his hand, give him a bland smile, and slam the door with gojo's fingers still in between. 

he pulls them back just in time, still almost on top of you, and smiles when you turn around with a scowl. "a friend of yours?" he asks, slyly. he's about as subtle as a third-grader.

"no." 

he messes with your hair idly, pretending to fix it. "i noticed an obvious absence where our dancing frog used to be." 

"i told you, that's not mine." 

"so you gave it away?" 

you cross your arms. he is far too close to you. "you told me it was hideous." 

"it was," he nods, vehemently, and you know his eyes are grinning at you behind those dark shades. "but now there's an empty spot on that shelf." 

"we can put your tongue there when i cut it out," you give him an innocent smile and walk past him to sit on the couch. your pocket burns with the key you put there, metal like an obvious stain on your skin. 

it's not that you care about him anymore, really. you don't, not even when you lay alone at night and think about him. it's more that... he doesn't think about you. he didn't, and he wouldn't have, even if you were still together. 

is it wrong to be wanted by someone whose opinion is worth about as much to you as a penny you could or could not pick up on the street? should you crave being cared about by someone as awful as him?

you want to throw his key in bleach. maybe take a dip yourself.

gojo follows you, throwing himself down on the couch, and brushing you as he does so. he is very used to this kind of proximity, and the annoyed look you give him. "so that was your ex?" 

"yes." 

there's a brief pause, and a nice person might leave it like that. might try to console you, tell you better off. but satoru gojo is not nice, and he probably never has been. "really?" he asks. then clicks his tongue. 

you interrupt whatever obnoxious statement is supposed to follow: "if you're about to say that there are a lot of more eligible bachelors, including yourself, then i'm going to say that you should probably make a zillow account." 

gojo pinches your thigh. "i would never say something like that." 

you look at him, just barely able to make out the shape of his eyes when he's this close. "you told me that last week when i was complaining about dating apps." 

"well, it was true then." 

you roll your eyes. 

"i wasn't going to say that anyway." 

you hum, relaxing into the hold his legs begin to have on yours. despite his abrupt and terrible personality, gojo is very warm. and he's already intruded into so much of your space--your home, your head--that it almost feels normal. 

with his thighs pushing against yours and his fingertips trailing up the back of your neck. 

you should slap him away, but you don't. 

the last person you cuddled with was the same man who gave you the greasy key in your pocket. 

you look at gojo with inquisitive eyes. "really? no bad pickup line? you were going to say something meaningful?" 

"would've blown your mind, but you interrupted..." he teases, and pulls on a strand of baby hair. 

"whatever will i do now?" 

his hand falls from your neck, and if you weren't as comfortable as you are currently, you might think about what he's doing. 

like the fact that you haven't even questioned this, or his following you around, or the fact that he knew you needed someone to pull you away from that door. 

you don't think about that, but maybe you should. 

still, his hand wraps around your shoulder, and you slump against him without question. 

"i was..." his voice is softer, calmer than you've maybe ever heard it. it should jolt you away from him. it should do anything but keep you planted on the couch right next to him. "i was just going to say that i'm glad he's an idiot." 

"getting turned on by my pain?" 

he laughs. "no, but, i mean, your pain my gain." 

you don't even notice it when he slips off his glasses, his fingers curling around your forearm. 

"where else would i find a roommate that threatens me with bodily harm?" he asks, right in your ear. 

it's true enough, you guess. and at least for a moment, you don't want to rip off his arms. 

and gojo mutters something that sounds like "stupid," but you aren't listening.

*

gojo has called in your agreement; that is the only reason you're sitting at the bar, watching him dance around with shoko--purposefully stepping on her toes--and sipping on some drink he ordered for you.

it's terribly sweet and reminds you of lotion but you drink it anyway. it's not like you bought it, and you're sure that gojo wont buy you anything else until finish it. plus it's giving you a light buzz, just enough to feel comfortable sitting there, and not like you want to run away.

it's not as busy as it was last time, the music slightly quieter, the air in the room less stiff. gojo seems less energized tonight--considering that he hasn't abandoned any of you to talk to the houseplant in the corner--even with the dancing. 

which he is terrible at. it's like watching an eight-month-old learn how to stand. or a man trying to impress absolutely no one. his limbs move like they aren't even attached to his body.

"is he drunk?" you're asking suguru and nanami--who have been sitting there longer than you have. "i didn't see him order anything." 

nanami laughs and suguru ruffles your hair. "that's satoru completely sober." 

"...are you sure?" 

"yeah, he doesn't usually drink. even that," he nods to your drink which you're sipping with a wince, "is too bitter for him." 

you raise a brow, watching shoko frown at him, and then nudge him away. "he drank last time i came, though?" 

suguru nods, looking away like he knows something you don't and nanami snorts.

"what?" 

"he was nervous last time," nanami answers. he's got less than a smile on, but it's better than the frowns you've observed sitting next to him in class. 

your brow furrows. "about what?" 

suguru is about to answer, nudging nanami not very subtly, when the very topic of conversation pops up, bumping into you as he squeezes himself in between you and suguru. his presence is an interruption in itself, but he's smiling like he always does, acting like he's been there the whole time. 

you might've pushed him away a week or two ago. now you just sigh and move a little so he can fit.

"did you miss me, sweetheart?" he asks you, leaning against suguru. "don't worry, i'll dance with you next."

"no, and i don't dance." 

gojo rolls his eyes. "everyone dances." 

you look pointedly between him and the group of people dancing in the middle of the room. an image of him almost tripping over shoko makes you smile. "well some people shouldn't." 

suguru laughs and gojo grins even wider at you--his hair is slightly sweaty and his eyes are peering at you over the glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. "let's test that theory," he says, taking a step back. his tone is nothing less than suggestive. and his fingers wiggle towards you, beckoning for you to follow.

there's a twinge in your stomach and you adjust in your seat, frowning at him. "i told you that i don't dance." 

"well, i do. and you owe me for last time." 

you balk. "owe you for what? making sure you didn't get murdered on the street?" 

gojo pouts, his face so unserious and completely genuine at the same time. "you made me dance all alone. you didn't even come watch." 

"you left me--" 

"just one dance?" he asks, leaning in towards you. his eyes are sparkling. "i'll get you another drink." 

"you'll get me that anyway." 

"i'll let you pick it this time." 

"that's usually expected, you know?" 

he ignores that, "c'mon," he pleads, "you know that you want to." 

"i don't know that, actually." 

and then someone coughs behind gojo and you realize that your friends have been listening to this entire interaction and that you'd completely forgotten they were there. how long has he been standing like that? just two inches away from your face? 

"just go, y/n," shoko says, "put the rest of us out of our misery. i've been listening to him whine all night." 

"hey--" gojo turns, his voice defensive. 

but you take another sip of your drink, sighing as you stand up. "fine," you tell him, rolling your eyes when he turns to you with a smile. "one dance, and you can't ask me for anything else tonight." 

his teeth are like rows of knives. sharp and inviting. "okay." 

he holds his hand out for you again, and you take it, feeling that strange pull in the pit of your stomach. 

it's probably just the alcohol, though. 

*

you don't know how long you've been dancing with gojo. 

it started with one dance where he didn't do anything except twirl you around and sway with you, like he'd accepted the fact that you weren't exactly light on your feet, singing along to the music in your ear, making snide remarks about where you'd placed your hands. moving them like pieces on a chess board.

his breath was hot on your ear. condensation on a glass. 

and then you'd gradually moved to letting him lead you, after who knows how many songs, following his steps and not apologizing when your foot slammed against his, or when you bumped shoulders with him, probably creating marks on your skin. 

and then his hands were on your hips, his chin resting against your shoulder, and it felt almost nice to be dancing with him. almost relaxing to forget momentarily about where you were and who you were with. it shouldn't surprise you that you're comfortable with him, but it does. there's no worry about the way you're looking at him or if anyone is watching the two of you--but then again, you might be slightly drunk. 

gojo hasn't commented on how long the two of you have been dancing, and evidently, you've let the alcohol sway you into staying for more than just another song. 

so now, with his lips on your ear, you're almost smiling into him. your heart is fast, and the adrenaline rush you're experiencing is a pleasant thing; if someone ripped out your heart right you wouldn't even notice.

"see?" gojo says, his voice just a murmur with all of the music swimming in your ears. "you're not so bad." 

it sounds like something else to you.

"you won't be saying that in the morning," you tell him, stepping on his toes, but he doesn't pull back or move too quickly. if you thought rationally about his movements you might notice that everything he's doing is slow; like you're an animal he's trying not to scare. 

"i'm used to it," he pulls back a little bit. "shoko does that too." 

"'cause you deserve it." 

he laughs and leans in, so you follow him. 

are you just swaying now? or is he leading you in something more complex? a dance you've never heard of, or a simple in and out? 

you don't know, and you really don't care. 

after a moment, you sigh. "i've never danced with anyone before," you whisper to him, almost like not saying the words at all. it might be a lie, you're not quite sure. 

your words are just thoughts now with no sort of intervention between your brain and your mouth. intoxication fills your lungs. 

"really?" 

"mhm," you hum, "no one's ever asked me." 

"i don't believe you," his voice might be teasing, or serious, or he might be barking at you.

you laugh anyway. gojo's hands are firm against your skin. he feels kind of hazy, like a dream. so you laugh again. 

"you okay?" 

"i think i might be a little drunk." 

he snorts, his breath short. "really? i didn't think you'd be a lightweight." 

"you're a lightweight." 

"yeah, but you already knew that. i only drink when we come here, anyway. nanami doesn't like having to drag me home." 

"you're heavy," you agree, looking up at him. you can see his eyelashes from under his glasses. you can see his tongue as he moves it, and the tip of his nose. you can almost feel it when he swallows.

"sorry," he teases. his face looks different under these lights. it looks different when you're looking at him this close. 

"you're kinda pretty," the words fall from your mouth as you think them, and you grin. "huh." 

it shouldn't be an odd realization, but it is. his skin is almost translucent, and his mouth is sinful. his eyes are wide and bright and satoru gojo could be a sculpture if he wasn't a man.

gojo looks down at you, his brows raised. "you just noticed?" 

"i don't look at you a lot." 

"oh, please," he shakes his head. "i've caught you staring." 

"i only stare when i'm worried that you're a robot planted by aliens or something. you say weird things." 

he laughs, and his hands squeeze your waist. he could stab you in the back right now and it wouldn't even matter. you're not even worried about it. he could flirt with you all night and you don't think you'd quite mind.

you giggle at the thought, heart beating fast with every breath that comes from him. 

"what?" 

"you're not a bad roommate, you know?" you ask him, but maybe you're asking yourself.

"i'm not?" 

"no. you're actually... kinda considerate. my old roommate--my ex--he never wanted to go anywhere with me. he wouldn't have asked me to dance." 

"why not?" 

"i think he thought i was stuck up. or embarassing. or not worth it," you breathe, almost airly, the words are true but they don't matter to you. not like this, pressed up against him. "i don't know." 

gojo's brow furrows. "how?" 

your brows furrow. "how what?" 

"how could he think you're not worth it?" he repeats, and you laugh back. because it's a joke.

"you'd have to ask him." 

"i don't think i'll ever be talking to him," he answers, voice rough. "it wouldn't be good for either of us. and i don't trust people with such terrible taste." 

you giggle at the thought of the frog sculpture, the disgusted look on gojo's face. you can almost see through him.

"you shouldn't," you answer, not even thinking.  

there's a moment where the room is quiet, everyone inhaling at the same time, and then exhaling. you feel like you fit here, somehow. like everything is moving at just the right place. this silence is a comforting feeling, the bubbles bursting in your stomach reiterating it. 

"hey," gojo says, interrupting that feeling. 

"what?" 

"you're a good roommate, too. you're not stuck up. or embarassing." 

"i'm not?" 

he smiles at you. "well, you're a little mean." 

you smile back. "only to you, satoru." 

his face drops, but you don't notice. you lean against his chest again, your eyes fluttering shut. if you were focused enough, you could feel his heartbeat. but you don't. and you don't watch as he swallows. as his voice falters, for only a single second.

but you do look at him when he says, "my friends like you." 

"they do?" 

he laughs, pushing his sunglasses back up on his face. "wasn't it obvious?" 

you shake your head. you're not sure how long you've been standing with him, or if it even matters. you're not even sure if you're still in the bar, or your bed, being covered with your blanket, tucked in by gentle hands. 

how long has it been now? 

"i like you too," gojo whispers, "just so you know." 

and you could be at home, with your roommate. you could be right next to him. it doesn't matter, because you only whisper, "good," and then it's all gone. 

*

when you wake up the next morning, gojo is already laughing at you. 

your headache is a curse. your mind is in shambles. and your body aches with the manipulation of only one person. 

you hate your roommate and his terrible taste in drinks and that he doesn't even say anything when you slump against the counter, not even bothering to make fun of you or complain about how terrible you are when you're drunk. 

he just smiles easily, ruffling your hair.  

and when he starts to cook some bacon in the pan, you don't say anything, but you go and stand next to him, letting him hold you up. 

there are no words. only the popping of oil in a pan. 

and that feeling, of course. because it wasn't the alcohol. 

*

so maybe satoru gojo is your friend. you will not admit this to anyone aloud, but you concede a little bit in your head, because it's a fragile place there, and you're a terrible liar. 

and so maybe you hang out with him sometimes. 

it's not just the game nights or study sessions anymore. you sit on the couch and play with your phone and he sits down next to you. he'll rub your feet, or massage your legs and you let him. 

only because he's kinda good at it, of course. 

and sometimes you'll turn on a movie and he'll appear out of nowhere, complaining about whatever you picked, but laying down nonetheless. and after several minutes he'll move closer to you, resting his head on your thigh. and you might play with his hair, but only because it's unreasonably soft. 

and some mornings when you wake up and make yourself breakfast, not even trying to be quiet, you'll make a little extra. but it's not for him, it's just a coincidence. 

and he stops by the library on his way home from suguru's, or some girl's house, and the two of you will walk home together, talking about class, or the weather, or whatever gojo wants. you let him do this, because it's usually dark outside, and you don't like walking home alone. 

and if he barges into your room sometimes--obviously not knocking--you only complain a little bit. and then you let him lay in your bed and mess with your things. 

but only because it's the easier option, of course. 

and you've missed the feeling of having someone near. and satoru gojo is easy to be around. 

*

"gojo," you gasp, as soon as the door opens in your face. and then you scowl. "don't you knock?" 

he pushes you so he can move past, raising a brow at you. "i live here." his hands are empty, and he's not wearing a coat again. just a weird button-up probably more expensive than your share of the rent. how he's survived over two decades, you're not sure. 

your brows furrow at him. "well, you could give some warning if you're going to kick open the door. what if you broke my nose?" 

"well, why were you standing right in front of the door when i kicked it?" gojo mimics, flicking you away, then looking down to your hands where your wallet and keys are piled up. "you going somewhere?" 

"to the store." 

"it's eleven." 

"why thank you for that update, gojo. i really appreciate it," and then you move beside him to open the door. 

but gojo grabs your hand, making sure to roll his eyes at you where you can see it, and pulls you away so he can step in front of the door. "what could you need from the store right now?" 

"i need stuff." 

he crosses his arms, uncharacteristically stern. "like what?" 

"stuff. girl stuff. you wouldn't get it." 

he gasps, mouth dropping. "oh no, did i steal too many of your tampons again?" 

"first of all, that's against the apartment rules, so you better hope not. second of all, please move," you glare at him. "i need to hurry." 

"you can't leave right now." 

"i believe there's such a thing as free will..." you try and push him away, but he doesn't budge. "and you're not the boss of me." 

"it's too late for you to walk to the store. go tomorrow." 

you cross your arms. "when have i ever listened to you?" you ask him, feeling that familiar irritation crawl up your skin. 

but then gojo is pulling your arms apart and resting them at your sides and saying "stop that," as a gentle chide. and that irritation molds. you push his hands away. 

you want to push his hands off of the edge of the earth just so that he'll never touch you again.

"seriously, gojo, i need to go. they close at midnight." 

"you can't walk to the store by yourself in the dark." 

"i can do whatever i want." 

"then i'm locking you in your room until tomorrow. you're grounded." 

you poke his shoulder. you can't decide if he's serious or not. his voice is always teasing, and you can't see enough of his eyes. and you can't trust a single thing he says. "when did you become so overbearing?" you ask him, trying not to grind your teeth. 

"when i realized how weak you are." 

"weak?" you balk at him. "i'm not weak. please retract that sentence before i accidentally punch you." 

"you can't even push me away from the door. i'll take my chances with your fists." 

"that's because you're irritating me," you tell him, as you try to do it again. "anger distracts me." 

he laughs at you, leaning even further against the door. 

"gojo," you whine, trying to pinch him away instead. "stop being an ass. just get out of the way." 

he holds a hand to his chest, offended. "i am showing concern about your safety," he claims, shaking his head at you. 

"you are ruining my mood." 

"oh, good." 

you scowl. "move. right now." 

"that was very intimidating," he grins at you, "but maybe try again." 

you groan and try to stab him with your key, which he pushes away, still smiling, still completely the worst. 

"i--" you sigh, "i don't like you very much." 

he snorts. 

then you pout at him, fluttering your eyelashes. "please, gojo. i'll be back in fifteen minutes." 

"what is that?" 

you frown. "what?" 

"what's wrong with your face?" 

you throw your arms up, shaking your head. then you mutter another thing about hating him under your breath and finally turn away. you set your keys and your wallet on the counter, pouting as you sit down on the couch. 

gojo is there a moment later, laughing at you. "was that supposed to be convincing?" 

"don't talk to me. ever again." 

you shake your head, fed up with him and everything about this living situation. how are you locked in your apartment right now?

gojo tilts his head back, and then pauses for a moment.  

"then how am i supposed to ask if you want to come with me to the store?" he asks, nonchalantly. "i need some stuff." 

and you should be angry at him--you should probably break one of his fingers or cut his hair off in his sleep. you should tell him that you hate his company and that if he ever tells you what to do again-- 

but instead, you jump up from the couch, smiling at him. "let's go," you say, quickly, before you change your mind. 

and you don't get to see it when gojo smiles back at you, softly. 

*

"hey," he whispers, "you shouldn't sleep here." 

gojo is shaking your shoulder gently, his breath on your face, his voice soft--even in the haze of disrupted sleep. there's a warm feeling in your belly as he speaks to you, an unknowing smile on your face.

"hmm?" you answer, trying to remember who you are and why you're here. who he is.

"it's almost midnight. what are you doing on the couch?" gojo is helping you sit up. his hands are ridiculously warm, and you don't think about how nice they feel on the bare skin of your back. 

"gojo?" 

he laughs. "the one and only. c'mon, i'll tuck you in." 

"did you just get home?" you must still be sleeping, because his hands are so soft right now. and his voice is so quiet--like the creaking of an old house. 

"yeah. are you going to get up?" he's kneeling in front of you, and his face is bare. you almost want to laugh at how bright his hair is even in the dark. 

"where were you?" 

he shakes his head, smiling up at you, and moves from the floor. "c'mon, sit up," he beckons, trying to get you to move your head from its place. you wince. eventually, he gives up and your heart almost disappears when he picks you up, tapping your legs so that you'll wrap them around his waist. 

you do it, but only because you don't want to fall. 

"why are you so tall?" you complain as he carries you to your room, feeling much more awake when you're this high in the air. 

gojo snorts. "i'll take that as a thank you," he whispers in your ear and sets you on your bed. then he sits on the edge and takes your socks off, pulling the covers out from under you. his movements are slow as he covers every inch of skin he can see, his breath the only sound between the two of you. 

it's colder when his hands move, and he looks at you for a moment as if trying to make sure he's satisfied with his job. 

"are you going to make fun of me for this in the morning?" 

gojo grins, squeezing your leg as he stands up. "probably. but only a little." 

"okay," you yawn, blinking as he backs up towards the door. 

"night, sweetheart," he whispers to you, and then a flash of hair is all you see before your door is closed and you drift back to sleep. 

and in the morning you wake up and can't remember how you got in bed. gojo doesn't say a thing. 

*

satoru gojo can say so much without saying a single thing. 

when he burst into your room--surprising you because you hadn't realized he was home--throwing himself on your bed and mumbling something about hating his life, you didn't say a word. 

and he'd sat there for ten minutes while you typed out a paper on your laptop, glancing over to him every couple of minutes, slightly worried because he hadn't moved an inch. 

you've seen a lot of his moods recently. you've seen him excited about some movie you didn't understand, exhausted after a long day of classes, angry when suguru and you leave him out of a joke. but most of that, you assume, is just him being himself. every feeling he has is probably seven times larger than the average person's.

but now that he's groaning into your bed, you can tell, just from the way his body deflates, that there's something wrong. you could see it when he walked in the room, and felt it because he'd told you he was getting dinner with his parents tonight. 

but if you know one thing about him, it's that he won't talk about it if you ask. 

because after a couple of weeks of spending more and more time with him, you'd quickly realized that you didn't actually know much about his life. he doesn't tell any stories about his childhood, or high school years--minus the ones that he tried to suffocate suguru for letting slip. he doesn't mention his parents much, and when he does, it's nothing but the bare minimum. he mentions classes so offhandedly that you hadn't even known how extensive his studies were until suguru was teasing him about an award he'd gotten a couple of years ago. 

he could talk to you for hours on end, but he wouldn't say anything. 

so after realizing this, you'd resorted to asking suguru about it.

that night, gojo was asleep on the floor between your feet. his hand was under his head, and he was snoring loud enough for you to notice. you'd sat down to watch a movie with him after he'd claimed that you and suguru were losers for being tired at this hour and that he was the youngest of you all. 

suguru only smiled a little bit at your question.

"satoru keeps an infinite amount of space between him and everyone else," he'd said softly, into the warm air of your apartment. "even with me, and i've known him since we were kids. his family..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

you'd frowned. "what?" 

"he's always been too much for them, in a way. i mean, you know, he is too much most of the time. but he does all of it purposefully; the arrogance, the bravado. i don't know... i think he just wants to control whatever image everyone has of him. to the extent that his personality is based on pushing people away, just so he can figure out who's actually going to stick around." 

you'd watched him then, with his fluttering eyelashes--his sunglasses lying on the ground next to him--and his bright hair. the gentle movement of his lips as he dreamt. he was softer like this, less forceful, less of a burden, and more of a boy.

and beautiful, of course, but that's an offhanded thought you wouldn't acknowledge.

"so, he doesn't talk to you about--" the words felt wrong, and you almost felt guilty for talking about him like this, with his best friend. but still. "--important stuff?" 

"he talks to me about a lot of things. but, no, not really. i get a long-winded rant sometimes, but not often." 

"then how are you supposed to know anything about him?"

suguru smiled at you, looking between you and gojo like there was a secret he didn't want to tell. he sighed. "satoru doesn't really tell me any of the important stuff because we've known each other for so long. i understand how his family is because i've watched him deal with them. i can guess how he's feeling based on his expression. but for people he hasn't known as long, like you, getting to know him is like i-spy." 

suguru didn’t need to elaborate. you got it.

like trying to find little hints of him hidden between all of the mess. you'd snorted and agreed. 

and it feels even more true now, with him cowering in your blankets. but still, you say nothing. 

you get it, to a certain degree. vulnerability was one of the feelings you liked to push away; secrets were only supposed to be coveted by you. getting close to people was a dangerous thing, risky in its own way. 

but, thinking that gojo doesn't trust you--couldn't trust you... it's more irritating than it should be. and maybe that's just because you're arrogant, and think yourself to be trustworthy. or maybe it's because you trust him, in your own unique way, even with all of his too much and extremeness. 

you don't say that to him though, just like he doesn't say anything to you. 

"hey," you push him with a foot. "are you drooling on my comforter?" 

there's a moment of silence, then gojo rolls over. "not a lot." 

you roll your eyes at him and type another sentence--a collection of words that have nothing to do with the actual essay you're writing, naturally--waiting for him to say something else. 

and, predictably, he does. "why aren't you paying attention to me?" 

"i'm busy, gojo." 

"no, you're not." 

"i am doing homework." 

he looks up at you. his sunglasses are somewhere on your floor. "well, then you're definitely not busy," he grins. 

you swat away a hand that tries to steal your computer. 

"aren't you supposed to be at dinner?" you ask him, trying to seem like you don't care about the answer. 

he sighs again. "canceled." 

"why?" 

"my dad had a meeting or something." 

"oh." 

you let the silence wade for a minute or two, trying to be discreet when you watch his face for any signs of discontent. but gojo just has his eyes closed. his hands above his head. 

eventually, you nudge him again. "did you eat anything?" 

he shakes his head. 

"do you want me to make you something?" 

an eye opens. he turns over and rests his head on his hands, squinting at you. "are you being nice to me?" 

"not intentionally." 

he snorts, poking you, almost in awe. "you are." 

"i'm just trying to make sure you don't die, okay? who knows what you've eaten today." 

he crawls up your bed, sitting right next to you so he can rest his head on your shoulder. and you should push him off, but you don't. "it's okay. i'm not very hungry." 

"that's not what i asked." 

gojo laughs against you, his hair brushing against your neck. 

you shouldn't say anything more. you shouldn't even entertain him and his antics, and you shouldn't even care (but you do. for some, stupid, infuriating reason). 

so you look at him, and your voice is soft when you ask, "you okay?" to him, hoping that it doesn't seem too intrusive. wishing that you didn't actually care if he was or not.

gojo's eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, you get that feeling again. 

that feeling in your stomach that makes you want to jump away from him. that makes your hands want to shake, and your voice fade. that feeling that you know--too well, too much--but can't get rid of. 

like an itch you're not really supposed to scratch. 

gojo swallows. "yeah," he answers, with no grin, no conceit. "i'm okay." 

and it shouldn't feel like a relief to hear, but it does. you nod, look away, and go back to your computer. back to your actual life, which shouldn't have any satoru gojo in it. 

but a minute later he adds: "i'd be better if you made me dinner, though." 

and you pull on his hair a little. you try to pretend like his smile doesn't fill you with butterflies. 

*

this shouldn't be happening. 

it's the only reasonable thought running through your brain at the moment. the only echo you can discern, the only words you can make out in the jumble of anxiety and horror running through your mind. 

he should not be this close. 

gojo had only picked you up from work once again, his easy smile meeting yours as soon as he walked through the door--you'd been waiting, wondering when he was going to show up. 

at seven-thirty he was there, letting in the cold air and sitting in the seat next to yours, complaining about the fact that you had a job that diverted your attention away from him while you rolled your eyes. 

he sat there for the half an hour remaining in your shift, distracting you. 

two months ago you would've kicked him out. would've called some make-believe security. 

but you just listened while he talked to you about space theories that didn't make any sense. 

and then he'd grabbed your bag for you, turning off the lights before you could, pushing in chairs while you organized the reception desk. 

and his hand grabbed yours before you thought to notice--swinging along while the two of you began the walk home. 

and halfway there, gojo stopped, looking up at something. "hey," he'd poked you. "look at the stars." 

you'd done it, begrudgingly, squinting. "i can count, like, three." 

"there's at least five." 

"why did you stop me to do this? it's cold." 

"because they look nice," he argues, looking down at you. "you have no eye for beauty." 

and, really, you might've agreed with him. you might've pushed him away from you and told him to hurry up and you might've not cared at all. 

but you could see his eyes, just a little bit, behind his sunglasses. and his smile was alabaster, and that feeling--that gasping for breath, trying to hold on to anything feeling--was there again. 

and it was poking you. like a push in some direction. like a laugh telling you that you were too afraid to do anything. 

you were looking at him. right at his face and the only thing you wanted to say was that he was wrong. 

he was wrong because at least you knew that he looked beautiful. 

but those words wouldn't leave your lips--that thought couldn't leave your head--so you were only staring at him. wishing that you'd never let him into your apartment and that he hadn't started becoming a person to you. 

it wasn't fair like this. 

"what?" he whispered, his smile dropping, like he could tell there was something wrong with you. like he knew you that well. 

if he'd kept on smiling, you wouldn't have done it. you wouldn't have pushed up on your toes and leaned into him, and you wouldn't have kissed him like you did. 

like you're doing. 

and it would've been fine because you never would've started this knowing that it would eventually have to stop. 

and even though it takes him less than a second to kiss you back--his lips molding to yours like an automatic reaction--you know that you shouldn't be doing this. 

that you can't be doing this. not with him. not like this. 

so when gojo's hands move to your waist, his breath even in your mouth, you push at his chest. and you want to run away. 

"i'm--" you swallow, trying not to taste him, the bubblegum flavor of him, and almost flinch away. "i'm sorry." 

gojo's mouth is frozen from where he stands two feet away. his hands are in the air like he doesn't know what to do with them. "you..." 

and you've never heard him speechless before. just the idea of it makes you blurt out whatever comes to mind. "i shouldn't have done that," you tell him, and, "i didn't mean to--i don't--" you shake your head. "sorry. i'm sorry. can we forget about this? can we get home because i'm really cold?" 

"you kissed me," gojo says, so simply. 

the words are another blow to your heart. you were hoping that he wouldn't have noticed. 

and wince and watch him, his face as it shifts, moving with each thought in his head. 

"gojo, i'm really--" 

"no," he interrupts, taking a step towards you. 

"what?" 

"that's not my name." 

you frown. "yes it is?" 

he shakes his head. "no, it's satoru. you've said it before, you know. you should keep saying it." 

"when have i said it?" you ask, momentarily blinded by how he demands this. who is he to demand anything? 

"when you were drunk." 

you scoff. "i'm not just going to call you by your first name cause you want me to," you tell him, "who do you think i am?" 

and then satoru laughs, shaking his head at you, his grin full-force on his face. "are you serious? you kissed me and now you don't want to call me by my first name?" 

you freeze. "i said i was sorry about that," you say, weakly. 

you feel like who you've always felt around him. not as easy, not as cool, never as smooth. you feel like a child caught doing something they're not supposed to. you want to run away from him, but he knows where you live. 

"you're sorry?" 

"i didn't mean to." 

he quirks a brow. "you didn't mean to?" 

"it was an accident?" 

he takes another step closer. "it was an accident?" 

"are you just going to keep repeating everything i say?" you ask, voice hard. this must be a dream. 

satoru shakes his head at you. "no, but i have a question." 

"...okay." 

"if i try to kiss you right now, are you going to try and murder me? i know that we're away from the apartment right now, but it would really ruin the mood." 

you stare at him. 

it must be answer enough because he steps forward and he kisses you again. but this time, it feels less mechanical. his lips are soft and smooth as they push against yours--and he pushes like he's demanding something from you. like he knows more about what you can give than you do. 

and he grins against you like he's doing everything exactly right. 

but when satoru pulls back, your eyes stay shut. you try and banish the feeling in your stomach from your body, but it doesn't respond to idle threats. 

"we shouldn't do this," you whisper to him. you don't open your eyes. you don't want to see his face and fall victim to another one of his schemes. 

"why not?" 

"the last time i kissed one of my roommates..." you imply, hoping that you don't have to tell him that you're scared. 

"oh, right," he brushes some hair from your face. he has not moved an inch away from you. "i forgot that you're experienced." 

"wasn't it obvious?" 

he laughs, and then nudges your cheek with a finger. "look at me." 

you shake your head. 

"c'mon, just a little." 

his voice is so soft. satoru is whispering like it's just for you. and you've never heard him like this and you don't think you want to see him. 

"please, sweetheart?" he asks, one last time, and you have to. if only to put yourself out of your own misery. "good. now listen--" 

"don't tell me what to do." 

he rolls his eyes. "listen," he repeats. "i know you don't like me very much. and i know that you only keep me around for my rent money and my pretty face--" 

you kinda want to hit him. 

"--but i've wanted to kiss you for weeks. and i'm not good at the..." he swallows, blinking just briefly. "all of the telling stuff, but i want to be. with you. for you." 

you're not sure if that's the end, or if it's the beginning. your eyes are stuck on his smile, and you're not listening to anything he said. 

he's very close right now. so accessible. and it's just another reason to want to push him away. 

satoru clears his throat, nudging your head with his nose. "and i'm tired of shoko and suguru calling me a coward, so it'd be great if you'd mention that you kissed me first." 

your brows furrow. "you told shoko and suguru?" 

"i didn't say anything," he almost swears. "they tricked me into admitting it." 

"when?" 

"...the day after i introduced you to them." 

you pull away to observe his face. "really?" 

he groans. "stop looking at me like that," he says, "it's mean." 

you almost smile at him again. then close your eyes. "okay."

"havent you listened to anything i've said to you?" he asks, rhetorically. "i flirt with you every day." 

"you flirt with everything." 

"mmm, true," he leans his chin against your head, breathing you in. "now that i've poured my heart out for you, can we go home? it's cold out here, and i'd rather make out on our couch than that bench over there." 

"who said anything about making out?" 

"please," he wraps an arm around your shoulder, and smiles down at you--with all of the typical swagger--and maybe this time you let him. 

*

[mxqdii]

colby brock x reader who gets really shy around him, stutters over her words and just goes red in the face. and colby like is conpletely oblivious on what he does to her.😭 n she hasnt told anyone about her feelings toward him but say sam or one of her friends confronts her ab it and she like just denys it n stuff, u can chose the end but id love it if it was like friends to lovers and extremely fluffy(:

like you like that - c.b

pairings: colby brock x reader

summary: confessing feelings to colby 🙈

warning(s): fluff, confessing feels, idk

not proofread

"can i talk to you?" the blonde boy says, interrupting me and colbys conversation

"sure.." i say, getting up from my spot on the couch, following sam into another room.

i've been living with sam and colby for a while now, katrina, sams girlfriend, lives here too, we all do, its fun.

i love living with my best friends, friends, we're all friends, i have to remember that, friends-

"y/n!" sam yells, snapping me out of my trance

"yeah- what, sorry." i say, looking up at him

"when the fuck are you gonna admit your feelings to colby?" he asks and i groan

"i have no idea what you're talking about sam, you and kat need to lay off about this" i whisper-yell

"are you guys good in there?" i hear colby say, opening the door

he leans on the doorframe and i feel all words leave my brain

"uh- y-yeah yeah! we're fine! just, go back to what you were doing!" i frantically ramble, pushing him out and closing the door

i shut it, leaning against it putting my head against it, a sigh leaving my lips in relief.

"i have no idea what you're talking about sam!" he mocks and i groan, i forgot he was in here

"okay, okay, fine." i put my hands up in defeat, waiting for him to explain how i can confess to my best friend, that i live with, without ruining things.

"listen, i've known colby for years, and i know he likes you, just tell him!" sam says and i whine

"no! telling him is scary, even if he does like me, he's gonna have to tell me himself."

--------

"im gonna go to the store, do any of you wanna come?" colby asks

"y/n will go" sam says and i glare at him, giving him a, 'i'm gonna kill you' look

"okay, you ready?" colby asks

"y-yeah! lets go." i say, almost running towards him.

we start heading for the door and i look back seeing kat and sam giggling, flipping them off before leaving.

colby opens the car door for me, also reaching over to buckle my seatbelt.

the drive was about 10 minutes, the first 5 minutes in the car being silent, the next 5 though? definitely not silent.

"can i ask you something?" he says and i slowly turn to look at him,

"yeah of course" i reply

"why are you always so nervous around me?" he asks and i feel my face go red

how the fuck do i go about this, ugh.

"i don't know" i say shyly

"i think you do baby" he says and i die on spot, what the fuck is happening

"i- fuck- i like you okay, and i'm sorry i just- i didn't wanna tell you because i know you don't like me back and i don't wanna make things awkward and-" i ramble, not knowing how to stop my train of thought.

"hey who said i didn't like you back, didn't sam literally tell you i liked you?" he asks

"oh.. yeah actually he did- wait how do you even know that?" i look over at him

"the walls are very thin baby"

i look down, embarrassed.

"hey, it's okay, for what its worth- i really like you too, a lot. and i'm stupid for not telling you sooner." he says

"really?" i say, looking back up at him

"yeah." he looks over at me

we hold eye contact for a while, then it stops.

the next thing i hear is sirens, feeling someones hands on me, coming in and out of conciousness.

then it hits me,

we were in a car crash.

TAGLIST: @opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor @prettysturniolo @its-jennarose

A/N: you said it could end however i wanted it to!! lmk if u want part 2 😘😘

[dotster001]

The Queen Rises Again, a For Tuna End

Part One Part Two Part Three Choose another ending

You hadn't seen much of Vil, recently. And anytime you went to visit him in Pomefiore, he was always “busy” and refused to even open his door to you.

At first you had been frustrated, but you were starting to get worried. Rook and Epel had assured you everything was fine, Vil was just going through a phase of sorts, but that didn't ease your anxiety. For seven's sakes, what kind of “phase” could Vil Schoenheit be in?

It was on another evening that had you ruminating on this idea, that Grim sighed heavily next to you.

“Oh, Grimmy, when did you get in?”

He stared at you for a moment, before scowling. “I've been sitting here, sighing heavily, for ten minutes.”

“Oh, sorry bud. What's wrong?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

You stifled a groan. No one saying what was wrong with Vil was already weighing on you, the last thing you needed was another person to not tell you what was wrong. You weren't good at the guessing games.

“Grim, if you don't tell me, I won't know how to help you.”

“Don't get snippy with me! I'm in distrust!”

“Distress?”

“Exactly!”

He pouted, and crossed his tiny kitty arms, turning away from you with a “hmph”.

You steadied yourself, and forced a calm tone, gently scratching behind Grim's ears.

“What's wrong, bubbas?”

Grim sighed forlornly. “I've just been…thinking.”

You very much doubted that. That was the joke you'd have made if he wasn't so forlorn.

“About what?”

"About how I can't be everything you need.”

“Sorry?” You fought back a confused laugh.

“Look, I am the Great Grim! I bring joy and color to your life as the beloved roommate/son that you always longed for! But even I can't be everything a human needs…”

You quirked an eyebrow, and he scowled. “I can't give you romance. What I'm implying is that you're gonna die alone.”

“Ouch. Thanks Grim. Definitely could have said that nicer. But isn't the next thing you're supposed to say, “but you don't have to worry about being alone because I'll always be there for you?””

Grim looked at you like you were crazy. “My wife and ten children will be taking up all of my time.”

“Sure Grimmy. But I'm a big kid, I can take care of myself…”

“Sure, sure, I totally believe you. But what if…” he hesitated. “What if I had someone, who I knew was very in love with you, and was positive he could take care of you?”

You choked. “Sorry?”

“He's mad for you,  and I know if you asked him out, he'd say yes!”

“Lord, who would have a crush on me?”

Grim rolled his eyes, and muttered, “it's more likely than you think. Anyway!”

He pushed himself into your lap, cupping your cheeks. “Please Y/N. I'm worried about you, and I need to know that when I'm not with you, you will be okay.”

Your instinct was to say no. But when you looked into his eyes, he looked so sad and earnest, that you released a reluctant sigh, and agreed.

….

“Kay Grimmy, how do I look?”

He looked at the spot you were standing on the steps, and glared.

“Absolutely not. I told you this was a high fashion date.”

“Well, sorry, but this is all the high fashion I have! In case you forgot, we had to spend our entire monthly allowance to pay for a cleaning crew in the lab.”

“It'll have to do,” he sighed wistfully.

You heard a light knock on the door.

“He's here!” He scampered to the door, before looking back at you. “At least get a coat so he can't see the outfit.”

“If he likes me as much as you swear he does, it won't matter.”

Grim rolled his eyes and opened the door, to reveal…

….

Maybe it was just that you hadn't seen him in a long time, but something was different about the way Vil looked. 

“Apple blossom, if you keep staring, I'll get self conscious,” he mused as he delicately rolled some pasta on his fork. Your cheeks burned, and you looked down at your plate.

“I've just been worried about you, that's all.”

“I'm grateful for your concern,” he reached across the table and squeezed your hand, making your heart flutter.

“Have you started a new skin care routine? Your skin seems like it's glowing!” You quickly changed the subject.

“You have a sharp eye! I've been trying some new products, and I think it looks rather good.”

“Yeah…wait! I know what's different!” You sat up straight. “Your hair looks darker!”

He froze. “I don't think so…”

“It definitely looks a shade darker-”

“How about we split a slice of cake for dessert!” He said in a voice louder than you expected, but you nodded.

….

“Would you join me for a moment longer? I need to pick up something at Octavinelle.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He placed your hand in the crook of his arm, and escorted you to the lounge. As you entered, Floyd, Jade, and Azul all looked up, various looks of irritation and shock on their faces. 

“Wait here,” Vil whispered into your ear, and you gave him a nod as he walked over to Azul, who looked positively vexed. You watched him sigh heavily, then walk with Vil to the VIP room.

“So you and betta fish, huh?” A bitter voice asked in your ear, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The last time your eyes had been on the twins, they had been across the room. And now they were here.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Was it a pleasant evening?”

“You know what? Yeah, actually,” you said with a smile. Maybe it was that you'd been so worried about Vil, and now you'd finally gotten to see her was okay, but you had a great date. You hated to admit that Grim of all people would set you up with someone you enjoyed, and could sort of see a future with, but then again, he knew you better than anyone. Why wouldn't he put thought and effort into finding someone he knew you would love?

“Damn, really? Ugh,” Floyd groaned, slumping against you, nearly causing you to topple over.

“What Floyd means to say, is that if you ever feel he doesn't live up to expectations, or he ever steps out of line, please feel free to discuss it with us,” Jade said with a smile.

“Please, please, please tell us if that happens,” Floyd had buried himself into the crook of your neck, and was now squeezing you tightly.

“I got what I'm here for,” Vil's voice called to you, as he not so elegantly yanked Floyd off of you. With Floyd apart from you, he took your hands in his, and then leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Over his shoulder, you watched Azul waltz back into the VIP room, and slam the door behind him, with an echoing thud.

“You ready to go, Apple blossom?” Vil asked as though he hadn't just completely reset your brain. You nodded dumbly, and he escorted you out. Over your shoulder, you thought you heard a growl from the twins.

But you couldn't think much about that as you got intoxicated by Vil's warmth and perfume.

The End

Tag list- @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @savanaclaw1996 @happycatastrophesworld @murderisokayforme @kazumify @1fandom2many @hamhamlikesyukio @dreamlessnight

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM GHOSTBUSTERS (1984) *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary. who ya gonna call?

i want you to concentrate.

you can't see these, can you?

i'm getting a little tired of this!

what are you trying to prove here, anyway?

will you excuse me for a second?

we're close on this one. i can feel it.

you are a legitimate phenomenon.

this is big, [name], this is very big. there is definitely something here.

that would have worked if you hadn't stopped me.

i hope we can clear this up quickly and quietly.

back off, man. i'm a scientist.

listen! do you smell something?

this happened to you before?

could you come over here and talk to me for a second, please?

one of us should actually try to speak to it.

i'm gonna take back some of the things i've said about you.

the possibilities are limitless!

this is preposterous. i demand an explanation.

your methods are sloppy and your conclusions are highly questionable.

you don't know what it's like out there.

for whatever reasons... call it fate, call it luck, call it karma, i believe that everything happens for a reason.

where are we going to get the money?

i think this building should be condemned.

hey, does this pole still work?

wow, this place is great. when can we move in?

you gotta try this pole.

hey, we should stay here tonight! sleep here! you know, try it out!

you wanna come in for a mineral water or something?

are you troubled by strange noises in the night?

have you or any of your family ever seen a spook, specter, or ghost?

we're ready to believe you!

you can't park that here!

i bet you like to read a lot, too.

i collect spores, mold, and fungus.

i'd like to talk to someone, please.

what i'm about to say may sound a little unusual.

i'm sorry, i don't believe in any of those things.

if something's gonna happen here, i want it to happen to me first.

you don't act like a scientist.

i'm gonna go for broke. i am madly in love with you.

i bet you're going to be thinking about me after i'm gone.

hey, anybody seen a ghost?

did you ever report it to anyone?

i hope we can take care of this quietly.

well, no sense worrying about it now.

i think we'd better split up.

don't move. it won't hurt you.

i feel so funky.

there's something very important i forgot to tell you.

wait wait wait! i've always wanted to do this.

well, that wasn't such a chore now, was it?

we came! we saw! we kicked its ass!

you're a big celebrity now.

so who the hell was that?

i'm not at liberty to say.

i want to know more about what you do here.

that's a big twinkie.

do you have any excedrin or extra strength tylenol?

listen, maybe if we start dancing, other people will join in.

that's a different look for you, isn't it?

do you want this body?

i want you inside me.

you said before you were waiting for a sign. what sign are you waiting for?

i have a terrible feeling that something awful is going to happen to you.

i think that would be extraordinarily dangerous.

how about a little music?

you had your chance to cooperate, but you thought it'd be more fun to insult me. well, now it's my turn, wise ass.

i'm not interested in your opinion.

if he does that again, you can shoot him.

i am going to get you a nice fruit basket.

i was in no way prepared for that.

you wanna play rough?

are you a god?

let's show this prehistoric bitch how we do things downtown!

i couldn't help it. it just popped in there.

well, that's something you don't see every day.

sorry, [name]. i'm terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.

i feel like the floor of a taxi cab.

[koishiro]

Can you make a story where the reader isn’t a dom?

a/n: 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 😔

Brat | Jungkook 방탄소년단

↳ summary: Jungkook needs to teach his little brat a lesson she’ll never forget

↳ pairing: husband!Jungkook x fem!wife!reader

↳ genre: smut

↳ cw/s: spanking, kook ties you up, unprotected sex, cumming inside, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving)

"Why won't you just admit that I'm right and you’re wrong?"

What could I say to that? When she turns into a brat, there's just no sense in arguing, because no amount of logic can possibly penetrate the pride.

I simply glared at her and stood tall. That's when I caught the hint of a wicked grin at the corner of her lips.

"Because," she continued, "There is no way that you’re right about this. I'm right and you.are.wrong"

She took a step closer to me.

"You’re being a brat," I said.

She giggled and took another step. We were less than a yard apart.

"That's got nothing to do with anything. I'm still right" That wicked grin exploded across her face and I was hooked. My heart started pounding and my mouth went wet.

"Au contraire," I said, raising one eyebrow. "That's got everything to do with it, because there's no way someone who was right would resort to being a brat. Since you’re acting like a spoiled little girl, you are most definitely in the wrong and I am right”

"Noth-ing to do with it!" She repeated followed by her sticking her tongue out at me.

"Oh yeah?" My argument had been so good a second ago, now all I had left was fourth grade?

She didn't even answer. She just shook her hips. That's when I broke.

"Come here," I said, and I grabbed her by both wrists. "Let's go to the bedroom and sort this out like adults”

"Oh no you don't," she said, but she didn't resist while I tugged her toward the stairs and led her down to the bedroom.

I took her in my arms and kissed her behind the ear causing her to squeal and try and squirm away, but I held her firm. I gave her earlobe a nibble and felt her knees buckle and her breath catch.

"Stop it!" she called out, between gasps. I let go of her ear.

"Stop it? Is that because you know I'm right?"

"No!"

She sounded defiant, but her grin was pure lust.

"Are you looking for a spanking? Is that it? Because you are acting like a total brat and you're going to get one”

I didn't wait for a response. I picked her up in my arms, my left arm behind her back, my right under her knees. She squealed again and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

"Put me down!" she laughed.

I gently set her down on the bed, but flipped her onto her stomach and before she had her balance, then planted myself astride her ass.

Gathering her wrists in my left hand, I went into my nightstand drawer and pulled out one of my black ties. I looped the material through the slats in the headboard and soon had them tied securely around each wrist.

"Hey!" she protested. I got off her ass and stood next to her on the bed.

"Well?" I said, sternly. "Are you going to say you're sorry?"

"I'm right! You need to apologize to me”

"Mm hmm”

She watched me intently while I calmly stripped off my shirt and tossed it into the hamper. I undid my belt and pulled it swiftly through the loops. Cocking an eyebrow at her again as she bit her lip. I nodded and dropped the belt on the bed. It would be there when I needed it.

I slowly and deliberately unfastened each button of my jeans, then dropped them to the floor and stepped out of them, leaving me in my boxer shorts. I could tell she was hoping I'd pull my cock out and let her suck me until I forgot all about punishing her, but not this time. I was going to make this little brat admit that her husband was right.

She wore a sheer white lace blouse and a pair of tight blue jeans, fitting her just right.

"So," I whispered, lifting the back of her shirt slightly, "Which is it going to be? Good girl...?" I gave a kiss to top of her back, drawing a sigh from her. "Or brat?" I finished, kissing my way down to the hem of her jeans.

“You’re wrong” I put my hands on her ass cheeks and gave them a quick squeeze, just to let her know they were on my mind. I reached underneath for the snap to her jeans where she helpfully raised her hips for me.

"You know, sweetheart," I teased, as I yanked the snap open and pulled down the zipper. "You are heading for a monster spanking if you don't own up to the fact that your husband is right”

She just shook her head. I let go of her hips and she settled down on the bed again. I pulled her jeans over her hips, exposing the cute white thong with black polka dots that I had bought her for Valentine's Day. Her beautiful ass was on display, just for me.

"Up on your knees, brat," I ordered after successfully pulling off her jeans, "It's time for your spanking”

"What?" she protested. "This is so unfair!"

I forcefully lifted her hips with a strength that caught her off guard. She pulled her knees up with a gasp, ending up on all fours but with her arms stretched out before her, tethered to the headboard. The thong left her cheeks nicely exposed for the spanking I was about to deliver as I stood to her left and gave her right cheek a tender stroke. I smiled to myself: this was going to be fun.

The first spank was a quick but stinging slap to her left cheek. She jumped and a little squeak burst from her lips. I knelt on the bed and placed my left hand possessively between her shoulder blades, holding her down a little. Then I started giving her a proper spanking.

I struck her left cheek again with a loud smack! I slapped it twice more before having at her right. I slapped her right cheek twice with brisk, upward-angled strokes that produced a satisfying clap.

"Owww!" she protested when I stopped after the fifth spank. "Stop it!"

I ran my hands lightly over the skin, sending a shiver through her body.

"Stop it? Why is that, hunny?" I taunted. "Is it because I'm right?"

"No! Stop being mean. I'm right!"

"Oh, I see," I answered. She looked back at me, pleading with her eyes. I just shook my head with disappointment and spanked her right cheek again — much harder. She gasped. I struck her left cheek, swinging my hand from over my shoulder.

"Eep!" she squeaked.

I turned my body toward her feet a little more for a better angle and began raining blows down on her ass. I spanked her hard, targeting different parts of her butt until both cheeks were bright red. She cried out with every slap — and especially loudly when I smacked the sensitive junction where ass met leg.

I stopped abruptly, panting from the exertion.

"Ow ow ow!" she said. Her eyes were watery. "That’s not fair!"

I scooted over behind her and planted soft kisses on the burning red skin. She gave a little sigh, but continued to protest her mistreatment. "I'm not wrong, really I'm not. Please stop. I'm sorry..."

I liked her attempt at an apology, short of the mark though it was, so I needed to give her a bit of a reward before her punishment resumed. I took hold of the sides of her thong and tugged it down over her hips, pulling it down her legs, up and over her feet and tossed it across the room. I knelt between her legs and nudged her knees apart a bit.

"Please don't punish me any more," she begged. "It's not fair”

"I know it's not fair, but you need to admit that your I’m right" I slid my hand along the backs of her thighs until it reached the underside of her ass. I pushed slowly forward until my fingers found the soft skin of her labia.

She gasped and opened her legs slightly wider. "You know what’ll happen when you admit that I'm right and you're wrong," I teased, letting my fingertips glide along her lips. "I'll touch you so nice, hun. I'll make you feel so good. I'll give you such a reward, baby. All you have to do is say 'I'm wrong. My husband is right”

She made no answer; she just sighed and rotated her hips a little against my hand while I massaged her. The lips were swollen and parted easily when I probed with two fingertips. I felt her inner lips and the entrance to her cunt, wet and ready. She gave the cutest moan — the one that always makes me fall in love with her again. I couldn't resist feeling her, stiff and ready to be touched. But she still hadn't said the magic words.

"What do you say, baby? Is your husband right?"

"I mean," she sighed. "There are all kinds of ways to look at things, right? So maybe you're kind of right”

I stopped moving, scowling at her when she looked back over her shoulder to see my reaction. She didn't soften — she hardened.

"But I'm not wrong. I'm totally not wrong!"

"Admit you were wrong, baby” I commanded.

"Never!" she playfully defied.

I withdrew my hand from her pussy and placed both hands firmly on her ass.

"Then you need more discipline hm?”

I reached behind me and took ahold of my belt. If she was going to continue to be stubborn, I was ready to take it to the next level.

I folded the belt in half and gave a soft swing at the back of her right thigh. It struck with a bit more force than I'd intended and a CRACK reverberated around the bedroom. My wife cried out, "Ow!" I let my arms follow through, then reversed and backhanded her left thigh. CRACK! She twitched and pulled her legs up under her body, seeking cover for them. I scooted back a bit and then swung the belt swiftly onto each cheek of her ass.

"Please!" she called, after the four swats of the belt, but that was all.

I dropped the belt and stood up beside her head. She looked up at me with watery eyes. I slowly slid my boxers to the floor.

"Please what?" I teased, as I stroked my cock to fullness, inches from her lips.

"Please, no more of the belt”

"Do you promise to be good?"

"Yes, I'll be a good girl for you Kook, so good!”

My cock swelled in my hand. I leaned forward and she slipped her lips around it with practiced ease. Oh that felt good. She sucked on my cock with slight difficulty considering her hands were still tied. My left hand went to the back of her head, my right drifted down to caress her red ass.

"Yes, baby," I cooed. "Suck my cock the way you always do”

"Mmmm," she moaned on my dick.

I quickly pulled away from her mouth and got back behind her again. I started rubbing and grinding my cock onto her dripping pussy.

"You want this, baby?" I asked, tapping the head against her displayed clit.

"Yes, baby. Please”

"Oh I want to give it to you. I want to slide this cock right into your pussy” With that, I took to working her opening in a gentle circle with my dick, pressing against the tight ring of muscles that was so ready to yield and be filled, if I applied a little more pressure. "There's just one thing you need to say, sweetheart”

"Oh please, baby. Please. I'm wrong, Kook. You're right!”

I let my hips fall forward and my cock sank into her wetness all the way to the hilt. I groaned with satisfaction: that was all I needed to hear, but she kept going.

"Oh yes, fuck your wife. Please fuck me. I was wrong, baby. Just keep fucking me”

I reached forward and yanked the straps of her binding loose. Her right hand flew down between her legs and she started playing with her clit as I fucked her.

"It's okay, baby," I panted. "Everybody makes mistakes. Now, I'm going to give you a big reward for owning up to it”

"Yes, give me my reward. Cum in my pussy, baby”

My hips were out of control. I fucked her wet pussy as hard as I could, feeling my cockhead swell like it does when I get close. She worked her clit in time with my strokes and the knowledge that she was feeling so good sent me over the edge.

"Yes, sweetie, here comes your reward. All for being so good for me. I'm gonna cum for you, baby"

The warmth of orgasmic bliss spread from my cock throughout my body, then came into sharp focus as I snapped and launched my cum deep into her. My voice gave out, shifting into short grunts in time with my sharp thrusts.

My cock pulsed and throbbed, shooting jets of cum into her pussy while my hips kept working her over in a desperate, orgasmic fuck. Then, my head was too sensitive. I pushed hard, burying the last few shots as deep as I could, grunting with every spasm. My weight on her ass pushed her forward until with one last shudder, my cock slid out of her pussy.

I found myself looking for reality again as I sprawled on top of her, trying to keep my weight on her hips, not her back. The room span a bit. I suddenly realised that I had more work to do before returning to the real world.

"You're such a good girl," I cooed, praising her. "Such an obedient wife, to admit that your husband was right”

She moaned a response into her pillow. Her fingers were still busy on her clit.

"You deserve the best reward I can give you”

I sat up, then gently rolled her onto her back. She didn't take her fingers away from her clit until my lips had taken their place, wrapping solidly around the sensitive nub.

"Oh yes," she moaned.

I held her clit between my lips and teased it softly with the tip of my tongue, randomly darting all around it, looking for every possible nerve ending that needed attention.

As her passion deepened and her orgasm approached, I sensed that she needed more. I slid two fingers of my right hand deep into her pussy and fucked her gently, mixing our juices together and pushing my come deep into her body.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" I asked, going back to teasing mode and blowing cool air across her clitoris.

"Oh yes, I'm a good girl."

"Good. Now be a good girl and cum for me”

I attacked her with my lips again, fucking her hard with my fingers and applying pressure to the root of her clit. She lifted the backs of her legs off the bed as her body tensed up.

"Good girl," I mumbled into her clit, between licks, “cum for me baby”

And with that, she cried out and came. Her legs snapped tight around my head. I held her clit firmly between my lips and rode her, pushing my fingers deep into her cunt and relishing the steady throbbing of her orgasm. One, two, three, four times her strong muscles gripped me, then her hips fell to the mattress and she collapsed in satisfaction.

I gently pulled my fingers from her pussy and climbed up next to her, wrapping her in my arms. I had to squirm a bit to arrange things so that my still-dripping dick was pointed at our sheets, not her thigh, but then I was able to tug a blanket over our bodies as we settled down.

"You are the best wife in the world," I whispered in her ear.

"You're right," she sighed.

— 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘹𝘰

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

[cosyvelvetorchid]

prompt: buck has to take a rain check on an upcoming date with tommy because dr. salazar (heart doctor) wants buck to come in for his year review check after his lightning strike injuries, buck tells tommy and tommy offers to go with buck, tommy makes discoveries of wot buck went through during his coma and recovery, buck’s ecmo scars on his neck and the healed burns on his hands are talked about, buck has to wear the holter monitor again

That was such a great idea for a prompt. Thank you ❤️

As always you can send a bucktommy prompt to my ask. If you've sent one and it hasn't been answered yet, just sit tight - just means ive not yet got the full idea of what to write yet but it definitely will get answered.

********

Organising dates with Tommy was like a military operation. They had only been on 4 so far (if you count Bucks bad coffee apology meet, which buck absolutely does). Their often conflicting shifts made it difficult to carve out time, but they both very much wanted to put the effort in to see eachother.

Buck was excited for their 5th date tomorrow. It was a breakfast date. Well, technically dinner date for Tommy as he would be coming off shift but they were both excited nonetheless. That was until Buck got a reminder email of his one year heart check up post lightening strike. His heart sank when he realised and he called Tommy.

"Hey Evan." Buck could hear the smile on his face and though his heart was a little sunk, it swelled.

"Hey Tommy. Is this a good time? You're not on a call?"

"It's fine. Just giving the chopper a clean. Patient had a nasty hemorrhage this morning. Whats up?"

"I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have raincheck our breakfast date tomorrow."

"Oh." The disappointment was clear in his tone. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I uh, totally forgot I have an appointment with Dr Salazar my heart doctor."

"Are you okay? Have you been having palpations?"

Every time I look at you, or hear your voice, or think about you.

"No, no nothing like that - I feel fine. Its just a check up. It being a year since the uh.." Buck found the words difficult to say, though wasn't sure why. Most of the time he could talk about it, but sometimes the reality of what happened really hit him and he found it difficult.

"Lightning strike." Tommy finished for him. "Well it's a perfectly reasonable reason to raincheck so don't worry."

"Thanks Tommy." Buck said, relieved.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Tommy asked. Buck didn't expect that. They hadn't been dating long - Buck wasn't even sure if he could call himself Tommy's boyfriend yet. He wanted to of course but they hadn't had that conversation yet. But he wasn't sure if he was asking because he wanted to be there or it was out of some kind of obligation.

"Thanks but it's fine. They're probably just going to scan me and tell me I'm in top shape." He forced a laugh at the end. Truthfully he was worried. He wasn't lying about feeling fine - he really did - but he thought he was fine when he had mild pain in his leg which turned out to be blood clots that almost killed him.

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Yeah I'm sure." He wasn't sure but didn't want to feel like a some scared kid. Tommy was a strong, stoic man - He would probably be turned off watching Buck worry.

***

Buck groaned in his sleep at the noise. It happened again and he begrudgingly opened his eyes. The third time he realised it was someone knocking on his door. He looked at his phone and cursed to himself seeing that it was just past 5am. Who the hell knocks on the door at 5am?!

He slowly and heavily made his way down the stairs to the door.

"Tommy? What are you doing here? I thought your shift didn't finish for a other two hours?" He stepped aside to let him in. "Is everything okay?"

"I got off early, and no." He stated. Nerves hit Bucks stomach.

"W-why?"

"Because, you're worried about your heart appointment and you didn't tell me." Buck opened his mouth to respond but Tommy stopped him. "And before you argue, I could tell by the tone in your voice. So, I got off work early so that we can have still have our breakfast date, and then I can go with you to your appointment. Even if you just want me to wait in the car."

Buck wanted to tell him not to come. Not because he didn't want him there - he actually did. In the short time they'd known eachother Tommy made him feel safe; like things would be okay.

It was more that he wasn't used to people showing up for him. At least when it came to love interests. He'd always felt like he was a burden. In an odd way it made him feel uncomfortable. But Tommy hadn't made him feel like it was hard to be there for him. More than once he had proven himself by showing up. Buck knew he had let go.

"I'd really like that. Thank you."

"Of course." Tommy replied, showing those beautiful crinkles around his eyes that Buck would crawl into if he could.

***

A few hours later they were sat in Dr Salazars office. Buck has initially said he'd be fine alone and Tommy could wait in the car. But changed his mind last minute when a wave of nerves made its way through him. Tommy simply took his hand and walked into the hospital with him.

They'd taken his blood, scanned his heart and asked him a thousand questions. All that he was waiting for now was the results. His leg was bouncing as he sat waiting for her to come into her office. Tommy didn't say anything, just placed a hand on his knee. Bucks leg immediately stopped dancing at the touch. The feel of the warmth of tommys hand calmed him.

"Well, Evan.." She said walking in an sitting across her desk from them. "..everything seems to look fine. Bloods, scans have all come back normal."

Buck sighed and visibly relaxed.

"I just have a couple more questions to ask." She said.

"Okay."

"How are your hands? Are you experiencing any pain or tenderness?" She asked. Buck looked at his palms. You could barely notice the stars anymore. A fact which relieved Buck.

"Uh fine, really. The skin sometimes feels a bit tight but only if I'm feeling really hot" He admitted.

"Thats to be expected. When our bodies get warmer they expand and the skin tightens. It can take a while for the lower layers of dermis to fully heel so it might feel litter tighter for a while but it's nothing to worry about."

"Great." Buck said, relieved again.

"And what about the scar on your neck from the ecmo? How is that?" Buck instinctively reached up and palmed the area. It was barely noticeable now. Just a small round patch of skin a shade or two light then his skin tone.

"It's fine. No trouble there at all."

"Good. Well, there's one more thing I need from you today." She opened her drawer and removed a device placing it on the desk. "I need you to wear the holter moniter again for 24 hours."

"Do I have to?" He complained.

"Well you can say no, but it will be against medical advice and you will feel my personal derision. I know its a pain, but it's important to really make sure your heart is doing what it should be doing."

"He'll wear it." Tommy told her without even looking at him. It triggered a strange mix of feelings within Buck. Part of him was annoyed that Tommy was making the decision for him, but he also felt a warm feeling within him at seeing Tommy care that he do the right thing for his health.

"Yeah." He said.

"Good. Now you know the rules: no using the microwave or your cell phone for the entire time you're wearing it. Okay?"

"I remember."

"Good. Then i will see you tomorrow when you bring this back."

***

Buck was quiet on the car ride back to his apartment and for a while when they went inside.

"You okay?" Tommy asked

"I'm fine."

"Evan." Tommy chastised. Someone in the apartment above dropped something and a loud bang rang out. Buck instantly jumped at the sound. His eyes met with Tommy's. His face awash with fear which quickly turned to embarrassment. Tommy immediately walked over and put his arms around him.

"You're okay. I promise." His voice was soft and calming. Buck softened into the hug and held onto Tommy tightly.

"I'm not going to push you, but when you're ready you can tell me." Buck felt Tommy's fingers delicately trace lines in the hair at the base of his head. He tried to remember if any of his exes had ever done something so simple like that to comfort him and he couldn't.

Tommy was quite tactile, Buck had noticed. A hand on his back as we walks past, a thumb circling his hand while they watch a movie, or a hand on his leg as they talk after dinner. Buck had always like that in a parnter, being that he was a big physical touch person.

"Sometimes I forget that it happened and then something happens and I'm reminded again." He loosened himself from Tommy and stepped back to lift himself onto the counter. Tommy stepped forward standing just between his knees and no closer. He wanted to give buck not just the emotional space but the physical space to talk.

"It's funny - i don't remember the getting struck or the pain. At least not now. For a while everytime I looked at my hands I would remember." His hands were palm up as he looked at them; the skin just a little pinker where the scars were. Tommy gently took Bucks hands from underneath and brought each one to his face to placed a soft kiss on each palm.

It was an act so full of delicacy and love that Buck almost burst into tears. Tommy looked back up at him with a soft sympathetic face. A face that told him it was okay to talk.

"What I really remember when I woke up was how i felt. Like, everything was different even though nothing had changed. But I had. I couldn't tell you how and I still can't. I'm just.. different. I had the weirdest dreams when I was in the coma. They felt so visceral; so real. For weeks i had this sense of dread all the time, like the other shoe was going to drop and i was going to realise that i was still in the coma and nothing was real." Tommy gently stroked Bucks legs as he continued.

"You know for a while i had this checklist I would perform every morning. First I would check the time- the dreams all happened at night so if it was morning I'd know that I was awake. Then I'd text Bobby. I'm sure it was annoying for him but he always texted me back. I just had to be sure that everything was real. I'll have moments sometimes during the day where I'll have these phantom pains in my scar on my neck and for a split second I think 'what if I'm dreaming and the pain is from the ecmo machine still attached to me?'. That's really weird I know." He looked down feeling a hint of embarrassment. Tommy probably thought he was being ridiculous.

Instead Tommy reached up, placing his hand on one side of Bucks neck and softly pressing his lips against the scar on the other side. It wasn't heated or had any sexual connotations to it - it was sweet and loving. It was Tommy telling buck that these scars are part of who is and they're beautiful. Buck closed his eyes and just breathed. He let go and allowed Tommy to just simply care for him.

"Is it okay that I did that?" Tommy asked quietly.

"Always." Buck replied looking into to Tommy's soft, warm eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Tommy asked.

"Honestly? That I'm glad we haven't got the sex stage yet. If my heartrate now is anything to go by Dr Salazar is already going to think im having a heart attack." Tommy threw his head back and laughed heartily. Buck had seen him laugh before, even giggle, but never had he elicited a real, loud, belly laugh.

Buck felt a sense of pride at Tommy's response. And there was something else there too. Something weaving its way around under the surface of his skin. Something warm that made his stomach swoop and heart buzz. It wasn't quite near enough to lean into yet, but it was close. And getting closer every day.

[shehungthemoon]

Bucktommy Fic prompts: first vacation or snowy cabin vibes

first 118 bbq

Buck rescues a kitten from a tree and keeps it #catdads

Buck telling Tommy he was a sperm donor with zero context like ‘oh yeah biologically I have a kid’ and walking off leaving Tommy like ???

First Christmas together

Idk if it’s your vibe but something relating to the ring cutter?

Babysitting jee

Tommy realising ‘random facts with Buck’ is a thing

Flying lessons

Sorry I have a lot of thoughts and zero ability to write lollll

Oh, anon. I saw "babysitting jee" and could not get the image of Tommy looking at dollar store kids coloring books out of my head. And here we are 🖤

"Are you sure you're okay with it?" Buck asked into his phone, balancing it in between his shoulder and ear as he unpacked his locker for the night. "It's just that Tommy and I don't really get a lot of time to see each other with our schedules and everything, and—"

"Buck," Chim interrupted, "Yes I'm sure. I've known Tommy longer than you have, unless you've somehow forgot that since the last time you begged me for old, embarrassing photos of the man."

"Yeah yeah," Buck mumbled, "I know I know, sorry." Chim made a satisfied hum. Buck finished zipping up his bag. "Bet I know him better though."

Chimney started squawking indignantly over the phone. Buck grinned into his chest.

So, Buck invited Tommy to come babysit Jee with him that night, nervous the whole time he typed the text.

-i know it's not really a great date setting

He typed after he sent the initial message.

-totally ok to say no

He was stupid to be nervous. The reply came almost immediately.

-Are you kidding? I've been waiting to meet that girl ever since Chimney sent me those first pictures.

-Of course I'll be there

---

Tommy met him at Buck's door with a sweet grin and a bunch of coloring books in his hand. Buck couldn't do anything but stare at him for a moment and smile back.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Buck wondered if those butterflies in his stomach would ever go away. When Tommy leaned forward and pressed a gentle, quick kiss onto his lips, Buck came to the conclusion that there was no possible way they ever would.

"I brought these," Tommy said as he walked into the apartment, shaking the coloring books in the air and looking just a little bashful about it. "Didn't want to show up empty handed but I figured wine wasn't the right call for the venue."

Buck chuckled and shut the door behind him. "You definitely figured right." He pointed over toward the media area. "Wanna meet the star of the show?"

Tommy grinned. "More excited to see her than you, really."

Buck scoffed with feigned-offense and pinched Tommy's arm before moving his hand to the small of Tommy's back, pressing him gently toward where Jee was set up in front of his couch.

Jee looked up from her toys with wide eyes when they came into view. "Hey hey, princess, I got someone for you to meet!" Buck held his free hand out to point at his boyfriend. "This is Tommy. Tommy, this is Jee-Yun." She kept still in contemplation and made a humming noise up at them.

Tommy crouched down and gave her a little wave, and Buck would have laughed at the sight of such a big man making himself so small if it weren't the most endearing thing he'd seen in ages.

"Hi Jee-Yun. It's really nice to meet you," Tommy said with a quiet voice Buck'd never heard before. Jee just kept staring over at him with blinking, assessing eyes. "I really like your sparkly dress," he continued, and that seemed to do it. Jee broke out into a wide, squinty-eyed smile and let out one of those little kid laughs that melted hearts.

"Sequins," Jee said brightly; or at least tried to say, there was definitely an 's' sound in there somewhere.

The floor became their home for the next few hours, Jee happily adjusting to her new friend and toddling between the two of them, carting markers and dolls and pieces of Goldfish back and forth across the carpet. The two of them got easily talked into playing Barbies for one memorable twenty minute stretch, in which Buck learned quite a few things about Tommy's sense of fashion.

"You can't put those rain boots on Tiffany when she's wearing that dress, they don't go at all," Buck said contemptuously.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Why not? There's yellow in the belt." He squinted and held Tiffany up a little closer to his face. "Sort of."

Buck groaned painfully. "They're way to clunky for that outfit! And it's not even raining, Tommy! Why would she be wearing rain boots?"

Tommy blinked at him for a second before slowly tilting his head up toward the ceiling. Of his very-much-indoors living room. Buck groaned louder.

Jee solved the problem easily by shoving the rain boots onto Tiffany's arms and yelling out Gloves! Buck was a little miffed he didn't think of that first.

Dolls, juice-box breaks, Buck chasing Jee around the first floor making firetruck sounds and sending Tommy into stitches from where he was still sprawled in front of the TV—the evening passed all too quickly and with more laughing than either of them had done in weeks. Which of course meant that by the time that Maddie and Chimney texted that they were going to be heading back soon, both grown men were beyond pooped and covered in more sticky substances than was probably recommended by most health codes. Jee had not decided to take it easy on the new guy, that's for sure.

Buck had handed a squirming Jee over to Tommy a bit ago while he got his niece's stuff all organized back together in her bag. By the time he'd gotten the rest of her leftover snacks out of the fridge and made a passable effort at tidying up the counters, the excitable sounds of Tommy and Jee's earlier conversations had died down and Buck decided it was about time he headed over to check up on them.

He was greeted with the sight of the two of them tucked into the couch, Jee set up on Tommy's lap with one of her new coloring books in her hand and an assortment of markers wedged into the crook of Tommy's bent knee in easy reach beside her. She was quietly and happily plugging away at one of the drawings—a startlingly pink giraffe, Buck thought he could make out—scribbling nonsensically across the page with an intently closed fist. Tommy had an arm resting along one of her sides to keep her from falling off, but the man himself was very much not paying too much attention anymore. His head was lolled back against the cushion, eyelids fluttering as he caught a few needed minutes of rest. Buck wasn't worried; he knew by the way Tommy's finger was still drawing lazy shapes along the frills of Jee's sparkly dress that Tommy'd be awake and aware in an instant if she needed him.

Buck stole a moment to just stand there and watch without either of them noticing. He took it in.

Tommy. His boyfriend. With a baby tucked happy against his chest.

Unbelievably small compared to him yet being held with all the gentleness in the world. His boyfriend and his niece. Both safe and content, on his couch.

Something tugged warm and tight behind Buck's ribs. The feeling almost toppled him over, dragged the breath from his lungs, love, pride, want.

He could have been sick with it.

He quietly padded over and lowered himself onto the cushion next to them before he could get too overwhelmed. He couldn't help himself. He leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss against where he knew Tommy's dimple was, and soon enough felt Tommy's smile underneath his lips.

"You having a good time there, Jee?" Buck asked quietly, pulling back just enough to see her. She twisted around to nod empathetically up at him.

"Uncle Tommy got me a jungle," she said, holding her booklet up with a grin, and Buck let out a surprised noise.

"Uncle Tommy, huh?" He teased, poking Tommy in the ribs and looking at him fondly. Tommy swatted his hand away and then grabbed his fingers before he could retreat too far, and Buck let him tug him in close and rest their now tangled hands against his side. Buck settled in sideways against the back of the couch and tried to push down the fondness bubbling up inside him before it burst.

"She said it earlier," Tommy said, brow furrowed just a bit. Buck wanted to press it out with his thumb. "It felt mean to correct her." Buck just hummed and squeezed his hand until he'd relaxed back into the couch again.

Tommy let him rest his forehead against his shoulder, and the three of them whiled away the next quarter hour laughing at Jee's animal noises and picking crazy colors for tigers and monkeys and toucans.

Maddie and Chimney showed up before for too long, greeting Tommy with just as much warmth as they did Buck, especially after they saw just how adamant Jee was about hanging off of Tommy's calf and not letting him go even in the face of Goldfish bribes.

Maddie and Chimney finally got her detached with the promise of an extra bedtime story, and in a flurry of side-hugs and handshakes and little versions of such for Jee, they said their goodbyes. Tommy waved them out the door with an arm around Buck's shoulders.

They stumbled up to bed that night too tired for much else other than sleep, Buck's heart skipping a beat in his chest every time he caught Tommy's eye or felt him brush against him as they moved around the loft. Tommy's strong arms wrapped around him as they drifted off. Buck pressed himself hard back into Tommy's chest and fell asleep to the feeling of feather-light kisses pressed against the back of his neck and a heart beating alongside his own.

[poppadom0912]

Mafia boyfriend

Warnings: Mentions of violence, guns, canon-typical injuries, mob/mafia typical behaviour

Summary: Your boyfriend isn't exactly how you described him to be.

A/N: I’m trying to get a bunch of writing done before the new academic year, so please do enjoy! This idea was so random but the concept is kinda fun so I thought why not. I know no Italian at all, everything is from google translate so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. This writing and description is very stereotypical and very wattpad of me, I apologise in advance. 🙏

"So, are we ever going to meet your mysterious man?" Stella asked you while the four of you sat in the back of the ambulance having your weekly talk about anything and everything.

You laughed at her expecting face, along with the knowing glances Violet and Sylvie had. "He's just a really busy guy, taking over his dad's business takes a lot of time and not all of it is in Chicago so he's going back and forth from here to Italy."

"But he treats you good, right?" Violet asked seriously, wanting nothing more than for you to be with someone good.

"Oh he's amazing." You said whimsically, a soft smile settling on your lips at the thought of your boyfriend of one year that your family had yet to meet. "Hopefully he's back by Friday so you'll see him on Saturday for the barbeque."

"Oh I completely forgot about that." Sylvie frowned, confused as to how she forgot the yearly picnic that always took place. "What time does it start?"

"I have no idea." You shrugged. "I'll just show up whenever I'm ready."

"Wow, so organised." Stella complimented you sarcastically, ducking away from your hand when you were going to smack her.

"In my relationship, Enzo does all the planning." You mumbled with a slight pout as though trying to prove a point but it didn't work

"Mystery man does have a name!"

"Enzo sounds hot."

"Violet!"

*****

"Eeeee! You're here!" Violet squealed in pure joy as she practically sprinted towards you with her arms open, enveloping you in the biggest hug despite seeing you yesterday on shift. "About time, these lot are getting boring."

At her snide but playful comment, Gallo and Ritter started booing her from where she left them behind at their table with a few others from 51 who were drinking beers. You quickly waved at them and made a mental note to go and say hi to them.

"Oh Violet, I have someone I want you to meet." You eagerly smiled and the younger paramedic took note of your eyes sparkling which could only mean one thing.

Violet gasped, her arms dropping to her side as she did so in disbelief that this was finally happening. "Y/N, don't lie to me girl, my gentle heart can't take it."

You shook your head, smiling at the utter joy one of your friends had for a moment that lots of people don't consider that important. "Violet this is my boyfriend Enzo. Enzo, this is one of my best friends Violet."

With her award winning smile, Violet followed your line of sight and her brows rose in shock when she finally met the man you'd been dating for a little over a year now.

There was no doubt about it, he was an extremely attractive man but he was definitely out of his element. Unbeknownst to all of the CFD, the park was littered in bodyguards who had been held back from personally tailing their boss like they usually would.

Shaking off all her negative thoughts, Violet thought the best and held out her hand towards the attractive but intimidating man. "It's lovely to finally meet you after so long Enzo, I'm Violet."

"I've heard plenty of good things about you. It's a wonder we haven't met earlier." His voice was slightly accented, Violet remembered you saying he was Italian. His grip wasn't as hard as she thought and his tone actually softer than he looked, his words making the paramedic laugh.

"We've been nagging Y/N for so long to meet you but she's very convincing." You choked back a laugh at Violet's comment, lightly elbowing her in the gut. "Alright Vi, that's enough. Where's Stella and Sylvie?"

"Over there with Kelly and Matt."

It was comedic really, the sight of you and your boyfriend together was unbelievable. Despite being a firefighter, you were of very short stature and you were practically the embodiment of pure joy but with your boyfriend standing besides you, he was so much taller and wore all black smart ish attire with rings on two of his fingers.

It was like the typical grumpy and sunshine trope that people read about in books but this was real life. Violet almost couldn't believe you bagged yourself a man like him but in a good way.

"Y/N, hey girl!" Stella smiled, waving you over from besides Kelly as soon as she noticed you. Not only did she notice but so did three others that stood with her that a man was accompanying you, someone who was very out of his element. "Stop- is this the infamous Enzo?"

At your dimpled smile, Stella's smile widened as she fully turned to greet your boyfriend she'd been desperate to meet since you mentioned taking his number ages ago.

There was no denying you were ecstatic to be with him but something wasn't adding up and it seemed that she wasn't the only one suspicious.

Things weren't adding up and your family were dammed if they didn't find out what.

*****

Being shot at was nothing you weren't used to living in Chicago all your life. At this point, you'd become accustomed to it and you no longer feared it how you used to when you were a child.

However, it did scare you when in uniform and out on a call.

Following Casey and Severide's orders, everything was organised in an orderly manner but as soon as you re-entered the house to bring out a victim, all the gunfire suddenly stopped.

Initially, everyone was relieved and began calming down but as soon as you exited the house with a woman in tow, gunshots began raining down once again causing everyone to shout in a flurry of panic.

But once again, as soon as you backed up into the house protecting the smoke inhalation victim, all the gunshots stopped.

It was at this moment, it all slowly started to click.

Whispering to the female victim to stay put, you very carefully set one foot outside the house and what do you know, gunshots started popping off.

Eyes wide and chest heaving, you swallowed harshly at the realisation that you were being targeted. You alone and no one else.

"Y/L/N, stay inside, we're coming to you." Casey relayed over the radio, your captains words making it clear to you that he had also connected all the dots.

All you had to do now was wonder why.

Following the shooting, everyone came out unharmed but you. While you were distracted with the smoke inhalation victim, you were caught slacking and got grazed by a bullet.

You'd been hurt much worse before but it was bad enough for Sylvie to warrant a trip to Med where Enzo met you, worry and concern flooding off of him in waves. Not once since your year of being together had you ever seen him so worried about anything.

He brushed off your questions about work, he told you this morning he had an important meeting with some clients but here he was with you.

Unbeknownst to you, a group of Italian men were dutifully waiting for their boss in the waiting room and beyond the hospital doors lay a few cars all inhabited with similar looking men.

Once you fell asleep, Enzo lightly placed a kiss on your forehead before stepping away, gently closing the doors to your room. Walking away, he was lucky not to bump into anyone from the firehouse, going straight towards his brothers who waited for him to speak eagerly.

"It's them. They're targeting my Y/N."

His younger siblings eyes, identical to his, all darkened at his words. They'd grown attached to you over the one year period and they'd be damned if one of the best things to happen to this family was hurt, let alone dragged into business that she was too pure for.

"Come on, we have some work to do."

*****

That incident was over a month ago. You fully healed since then, the trauma of such an incident long forgotten. And you were too oblivious to notice the change in the people around you, especially your boyfriend and his family. Their protectiveness reaching new heights, not that it bothered you though.

Things drastically changed when one day you never showed up to shift. You were very strict on punctuality and Stella mentioned seeing you yesterday morning for some brunch.

It was only when Violet called Enzo, asking if you'd fallen sick and forgotten to call Boden, did they properly start to get worried.

Your boyfriend picked up on the second ring, voice filled with confusion at your best friend calling him, something she's never done before.

Violet explained the situation, Enzo confirming he hadn't seen you since you left early this morning for work.

The tension in his voice was clear as day. So when he said 'I'll deal with it' before hanging up, Violet was left feeling uneasy.

What the hell did he mean?!

Three hours later, Intelligence were rolling up to the firehouse, well only Jay and Hailey.

"We just got a call about Y/N being kidnapped?" Hailey said, confusion laced in her words as she approached the squad table.

The firefighters all looked at her in shock. They were never told anything about a kidnapping.

"What the hell." Cruz whispered as the two detectives explained everything they knew.

"Who knows where she was seen last?" Jay asked, looking at all of 51, everyone joining them outside in concern for you.

"Her boyfriend Enzo." Violet said, brows furrowed as she bit her lip. "I called and asked him around three hours ago now."

"Really?" Jay hummed. "What's his full name?"

"No clue. That's all we really know about him - his name, he's Italian and he's now a CEO after his dad died." Stella replied when Violet remained silent.

"Interesting."

*****

Dropping off a patient at Med, Violet stood besides Sylvie as she filled in some paperwork, bouncing on her feet to pass time when Will appeared in front of them suddenly.

Scaring both paramedics, he apologised with a sheepish smile.

"Hey, you guys never mentioned Y/N being kidnapped?" Before either of them could reply or explain themselves, he carried on. "It doesn't matter now, she's upstairs in a private room."

Both women were too shocked to reply, staring at the doctor mouths agape and eyes wide.

"Y/N's here? At Med?" Sylvie repeated, wanting clarification just in case she was hearing things.

"Yep." Will nodded. "Me and Maggie were treating her, I'm the primary on her case."

"Well then, what are you waiting for?" Violet said impatiently. "Lead the way Halstead."

And lead the way he did, showing them to a floor they barely saw due to their lack of 'rich rich' patients.

In the chairs outside were several men dressed in blacks and greys, all looking very similar to each other, their brown eyes glued to Sylvie and Violet as they neared the room.

Knocking on the door, Will didn't wait for a reply before entering, poking his head inside before opening it fully.

"Sylvie! Violet!" You exclaimed, trying to get up from your laid back position on the bed, wincing from moving too fast.

"Okay, let's not do that." Enzo said at the same time as Will, gently pushing you to lay back down.

"I've put a rush on your test results." Will said, looking at you and your boyfriend. "If I'm not available, I'll send Maggie."

Enzo thanked him while the two paramedics hugged you cautiously.

"Girl, what the hell happened?" Violet asked first, standing by your head with Sylvie standing next to her, opposite to where Enzo was sat.

"I'll be honest, I don't remember much." You admitted, grimacing at the pain in your head when you moved too much. "Pretty sure I was drugged for the most of it."

"I think I was taken like two blocks away from 51." You said confusingly, looking to your right at Enzo in confirmation, turning back when he nodded. "And all I can really remember is being punched and kicked a few times and like, a bunch of men talking about mob revenge stuff."

"Honestly, I don't even know or remember what they were talking about - I was so out of it."

You licked your chapped lips at which Enzo instantly held a cup of water in front of you, directing the straw for you to drink.

Humming appreciatingly, you smiled at him, dimples and squinted eyes and all before turning back to 2 of 3 of your girls.

"I was so out of it that when I first saw Enzo, I struggled to even recognise him, innit baby?"

Enzo just hummed, his one hand encompassing both of yours, his calloused fingers softly rubbing your knuckles.

"Where was she?" Violet asked, mustering up the courage to ask. "How- Where did you find her?"

Enzo finally took his eyes off you, eyes cold as he looked at your best friend. "I have a really good friend - we grew up together - whose a detective."

"I just asked for a favour." Enzo lied masterfully, having a lifetime full of experience.

The two paramedics, while quite suspicious, remained oblivious to what he was covering up.

"Fratello." A voice from the door interrupted them, all yours heads turning to one of Enzo's younger brothers. Brother

"Sono stati affrontati. Ale and Carlo assicurati che facesse male."

they have been dealt with. Ale and Carlo made sure it hurt.

"Bene." Enzo nodded, smiling at his younger brother. "You guys can go home now." good

His brother rolled his eyes, scoffing when he replied, "You're very silly Enzo, why would we go anywhere?" He said rhetorically before looking at you.

"You look much better cognata!" He smiled, brightening up his face and looking much less scarier than he just was. "All you need now is some good food and you'll be as good as new." Sister-in-law

You giggled, stifling a groan from the pain it caused in your ribs. "Thank you Luca. I expect to go home to your cooking."

He laughed, winking before he left, nodding at his brother who shooed him away.

Before anyone could say anything, the radios around their torsos went off, the familiar voice of Matt asking for their whereabouts causing them to frown.

"We should probably get back to work. We're still on shift for another fifteen hours." Sylvie said, the sadness clear in her face at the prospect of leaving you for so long.

"Yes yes. Go back and save the city on my behalf." You removed one hand from Enzo's, holding it out for both of them to take. "Say hi to everyone for me. Tell em I'll be back to working soon-"

"Ah- no you won't." Enzo stopped you before you could continue, chastising you with a smile but firm in his words. "You need to recover first. Only when you're fully healed can you go back to putting out fires, yes?"

"Exactly!" Violet agreed. "We're all on the same page, perfect."

"We'll come back and see you again after shift." Violet said as the two of them got up to leave. "Don't move an inch."

"Promise." You smiled, thanking them profusely for visiting. "Give everyone my love."

Closing the door behind them, the waiting room remained full of the same men, who now that they were looking properly, looked eerily similar to Enzo.

Making their way to the elevators, Sylvie broke the silence. "I don't- I don't think he asked a friend for a favour."

"Did you see the gun his brother had?"

...

"I did."