#and now you expect me to be excited about these teenagers?!
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antinousletmehit · 2 days ago
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Early palace because yea
—-
Y/n stood in Antinous’ chamber, arms crossed, her foot tapping furiously against the floor. “I want to go to the theatre.”
Antinous, lounging on his chair with his arms folded behind his head, barely spared her a glance. “No.”
She let out an exaggerated groan. “Why not?!”
“Because it’s dangerous.”
“It’s not dangerous!” she snapped. “People go to the theatre all the time!”
“People who aren’t my little sister,” he replied flatly.
She clenched her fists. “I’m not a child!”
Antinous finally looked up at her, smirking. “You’re literally throwing a tantrum like one.”
Her face turned red with frustration. With a loud huff, she stormed toward the door. “You’re impossible!”
Antinous raised an eyebrow. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To sulk about how unfair my life is!” she yelled dramatically before slamming the door shut behind her.
Eurymachus, who had been watching the entire exchange from the corner, burst into laughter. “Oh gods, that was beautiful. She’s in her teenage rebellion phase.”
Antinous rolled his eyes. “She’ll get over it.”
Meanwhile, across the palace…
“I want to go to the theatre,” Telemachus insisted, arms crossed.
“No,” Penelope responded firmly.
Telemachus groaned. “Why not?!”
“Because it’s dangerous.”
“It’s not!”
Penelope arched an eyebrow. “The streets are filled with reckless men and thieves. You are the prince of Ithaca, Telemachus. You can’t just wander off alone.”
His jaw clenched in frustration. “You never let me do anything!”
“Because I actually care about your well being.” With an exasperated sigh, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
A few hours later
She peeked around the corner, glancing up and down the hallway to make sure no one was watching. She was halfway through sneaking toward the main doors when she suddenly spotted another figure creeping from the opposite side.
Her eyes locked on Telemachus’s
His eyes locked onto hers.
There was a long, silent pause.
“…What are you doing here?” She whispered suspiciously.
Telemachus huffed. “None of your business.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You got banned from the theatre too?”
His lips pressed into a tight line.
She smirked. “Pathetic.”
He scowled. “You’re here too!”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I actually have a plan to get there.”
Telemachus crossed his arms. “Oh really? What’s your brilliant plan?”
She blinked. “I was just gonna walk out.”
“…That’s the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, what’s your plan, genius?”
“…I was gonna do the same thing.”
They both sighed.
Then, slowly, they looked at each other again.
“…You know,” she mused, tilting her head, “if we work together, we might actually make it out without getting caught.”
Telemachus hesitated, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming you.”
She smirked. “Deal.”
And with that, the two of them sneaked off toward the theatre, their temporary truce solidified by the mutual goal of proving their guardians dead wrong. Her and Telemachus slipped through the bustling streets of Ithaca, their excitement barely contained as they finally reached the theatre. The warm glow of lanterns flickered against the marble stage, the murmurs of the audience filling the air with anticipation.
As the play unfolded, they found themselves completely engrossed. The dramatic monologues, the elaborate costumes, the thrilling sword fights—it was better than either of them had expected. At one point, Telemachus nudged Pandora when a particularly ridiculous character tripped over his own feet, and they both had to stifle their laughter. By the time the play ended, the two of them were practically glowing with excitement. They walked side by side through the now-emptying streets, still giggling over their favorite parts.
“I told you it would be good,” she said smugly, nudging Telemachus.
“Yeah, yeah,” he admitted with a small grin. “It was pretty great.”
“I think my favorite part was when the king revealed he was actually the prince’s father’s long lost brother—”
“—No, no, the best part was when the fool tripped into the orchestra pit,” Telemachus interjected, shaking his head.
She snorted. “You would like that part.” They turned down a quieter street, still caught up in their conversation, when suddenly—
A rough hand snatched her by the arm.
She barely had time to let out a gasp before she was yanked backward, a strong grip pulling her against a man’s chest. She twisted, panic flashing through her veins as she looked up at the stranger—a rugged man with a scar across his cheek, his expression dark with recognition. “Well, well,” the man sneered. “I thought I recognized that face. You’re Antinous’ little sister, aren’t you?”
Her stomach dropped.
Telemachus immediately tensed. “Hey—let her go!”
The man ignored him, tightening his grip on her wrist. “I’ve got a score to settle with your brother,” he growled, starting to drag her away. “And I bet he’d pay real nice to get you back in one piece—” Before he could finish, a shadow loomed behind him.
CRACK!
The man let out a strangled gasp as a fist slammed into his jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. She stumbled back as the grip on her arm released, her heart pounding as she looked up, Antinous stood over them, eyes blazing with fury.
The man groaned, spitting blood onto the street, but before he could even think about getting up, Antinous grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up, slamming him against the wall. “You touch my sister again, and I’ll break every damn bone in your body,” Antinous snarled, voice dangerously low.
The man tried to speak, but Antinous punched him again, sending him slumping to the ground, unconscious. There was a long, tense silence. Y/n and Telemachus stood frozen, still processing what just happened. Antinous turned slowly, his furious gaze locking onto his sister’s.
She swallowed hard. “…H-Hey, big brother.”
His jaw clenched. “What. The. Hell. Are you doing here?!”
Y/n and Telemachus exchanged a look. Telemachus slowly stepped back. “Yeah, so, uh—I’m just gonna go—”
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere either, wolf,” Antinous snapped.
Telemachus winced. She let out a nervous laugh. “Sooo… you’re not mad, right?” Antinous looked like he was about to explode. As Antinous stood there, his grip on her arm iron tight, his voice boomed through the narrow street.
“What the hell were you thinking, y/n? Sneaking out? Running around the city with him?” He gestured toward Telemachus, who was standing awkwardly to the side, rubbing the back of his neck.
Whe whined, squirming in his grip. “Ow, ow, Antinous, you’re hurting me—”
“Good! Maybe that’ll remind you not to do something this stupid again!” As Antinous continued his furious tirade, a smug chuckle echoed behind them.
“Ohhhh man,” Melanthius snickered, leaning against a nearby pillar with his arms crossed. “This is even better than I imagined.”
Antinous’ glare snapped to him. “You.”
Melanthius grinned. “Me.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait—you told him?!”
“Damn right I did,” Melanthius said, smirking. “Spotted you two sneaking off, figured our dear leader would want to know his baby sister was running around town doing gods know what.” He tilted his head, amused. “Looks like I was right.”
She hissed at him. “You snitch!”
Melanthius gasped dramatically. “Oh, how could you say that? I’m just looking out for you.”
Antinous yanked her closer, his grip tightening. “If you think whining about Melanthius is gonna get you out of this, you’re dead wrong,” he growled. “What if that bastard actually kidnapped you, huh? What if I didn’t show up in time?”
She fidgeted under his furious gaze. “…But you did show up.”
Antinous clenched his jaw. “That’s not the point!”
Meanwhile, Telemachus was standing there like a prisoner awaiting execution, praying to every god that Antinous wouldn’t start yelling at him next.
Melanthius, still clearly enjoying the show, nudged him with his elbow. “Hey, Princey,” he whispered, “did she at least give you a good reason to risk your life for a night out?”
Telemachus sighed. “She said she was bored.”
Melanthius burst out laughing.
Melanthius grinned like a cat who had just cornered a particularly amusing mouse. He crossed his arms, rocking on his heels as he eyed her and Telemachus, who both stood awkwardly under Antinous’ burning glare.
“You know…” Melanthius mused, dragging out his words just to poke the bear, “it’s real interesting that you two snuck out together at night.” He smirked, eyes flicking between them. “Kinda romantic, don’t you think?”
Her face scrunched up in disgust. “Ew!” she gagged.
Telemachus stiffened like a board. “What?! No!”
But Melanthius wasn’t done. He gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Ohhh, stars above! Could it be? The prince and the little menace, sneaking off under the moonlight? Watching a play together? Giggling about how good it was?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Sounds like a date to me.”
She kicked his shin. “Shut up, you troll!”
Melanthius howled in laughter, but before she could get another hit in, Antinous yanked her back with an even tighter grip. His jaw was clenched so tight he might crack a tooth, his eye twitching as he shot a deadly glare at Telemachus. “You wanna explain why you thought sneaking out alone with my sister was a good idea, prince?” he snarled, his voice dripping with venom.
Telemachus, already miserable, looked at the sky like he was begging the gods to strike him down.
—-
@simpformoonkight @xo-cuteplosion-xo
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barbwritesstuff · 2 days ago
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Hello there, I'm so excited for Of Monsters and Mainframes!
I used to write novels and short stories but have been almost entirely focusing on games for about the last 10 years... and now I'm kind of curious about trying out linear writing again. Do you have any recommendations for novel-writing craft books or other resources? And what's it been like swapping between the two ways of writing?
And I'm really happy to see how Thicker Than is going!
I have been on the hunt for a good nuts-and-bolts creative writing craft book. I pulled apart a bookshelf at a poor lady's bookshop last weekend trying to find one. The problem I'm having is almost all creative writing books are aimed towards people who are just getting started, and while that's amazing, it's not very helpful for me.
I started writing when I was 9ish and have had a long and messy journey as a writer since. I was that teenager writing self insert fantasies. I wrote escapist fanfic while struggling through university. I entered short fiction contests and never quite placed. I sold a short film script I wrote for one dollar. I tried to write popular fiction when everyone said self publishing was the way to go and discovered that was 100% not for me.
In 2018 I wrote my debut novel which I've since pulled and in 2020 I started writing my debut interactive novel which was my first real success.
My writing career isn't one of those 'young creative gets catapulted to success' stories. I sucked for a very long time. I floundered. I fucked up.
But I'm a persistent wee bitch, and I think that counts for a lot in this industry. You just gotta keep trying, keep getting better, and keep picking yourself up.
Now I'm in a place where I've had some (I think) successful stories. Blood Moon. Thicker Than. Of Monsters and Mainframes. My short fiction. I'm hoping to keep that momentum going, to keep that ball rolling, and I'm looking for craft books for people like me and I'm not finding very much.
So, I think what I need to do is make friends with writers who are in similar situations I am.
So... hi.
Wanna be friends?
I know I talk about cannibalism a lot, but I'm actually a really normal and nice person.
Oh, and, to answer your question: 'What's it been like swapping between the two ways of writing?' It's weird. There's the nuts and bolts stuff. I write my interactive stories in second person present tense and the current story I'm writing is in first person past tense. But there's also a different energy to a linear story I can't really explain. Neither better nor worse, just different. That said, my interactive fiction has 100% informed my linear style and my linear style has also informed my interactive style. They bleed together a lot more than you might expect.
I hope that helps.
💙
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The sheer audacity of Castlevania: Nocturne giving me Julia Belmont, an incredible vampire hunter, the highly skilled descendent of Sypha Belnades and Trevor Belmont, and killing her off less than 10 minutes into the first episode?! First Lisa Ţepeş gets murdered by the Church in the first episode of the first season to motivate Dracula's rampage, now Julia Belmont gets murdered to kick off her son's future arc. I get that Castlevania's world is bloody, and murder is very common, but this isn't a fun pattern.
(I'm only 20 minutes into the show, and based on the previous show, I'm willing to bet we'll get some great female characters later. I'm just very grumpy not to get this one.)
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Tbh I think this is why I'm so drawn to teen romance in general, like. I was so busy, stressed, and mentally ill in high school that I never had any time for the cool shit that TV teens do and all the fun adventures they had. My life was just sleep, eat, college-friendly extracurriculars, and maybe some hobbies squeezed into breaks if I could. But it always felt like I was missing out on a lot because I was trying so hard to do everything exactly right and get into the perfect college :(
there is no such thing as being "behind in life" but it's okay to recognise that you missed out on some things whilst you were busy surviving
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luveline · 2 months ago
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Shy!reader and post prison Spence - the first time he calls her a pet name? I love that your Spencers always use “honey” or “dove” or “love” and we know she’d be a mess.
P.S. completely agree with how much I love the gentleness of your characters. The way you write Spencer in love is literally my favorite
ty for requesting <3 fem
“Are you sure it’s okay?” 
Spencer holds a hanging strap. You hold your own, core tense with the movement of the train. “I think I would’ve mentioned it before you got on the train if it weren’t.” 
You nod, glancing around the traincar at the other passengers. There's a stout lady wearing a large fluffy sweater, turquoise with two white kittens at her chest nuzzling one another in knit. A man with three bags of groceries sits just beside her. Further down, a teenage girl listens to music through leaking headphones, her phone reflecting blue light on her cheeks. 
“But are you sure I won’t be an imposition?” 
“You aren’t usually. I guess we won’t know until we get there.” 
“Maybe I should just find a hotel for the night.” 
“Y/N, I’m kidding. You’re not an imposition, it won’t be a problem. There’s enough room at my apartment for you to stay however long you want. Between all the books, that is.” 
It’s just not something you pictured asking him for. Your kitchen flooded in your apartment and the landlord had to put you up in a hotel until he could get someone in to make sure the stove wasn’t about to explode or catch light. But the idea of a hotel is rough torture —somewhere unfamiliar, living out of a suitcase, surrounded by people you don’t know without a door that locks properly. Spencer caught you sweating over it at your desk, pulling the story from you in reluctant drags with a hand on your shoulder. 
It’ll be okay, he said, you can just stay with me. 
Which is relieving and somehow a new can of worms to deal with. At least at a hotel there was no chance of seeing Spencer in a towel. Spencer seeing you in a towel, in your pyjamas, without your formal office protections. 
The worst part is the excitement. 
Terrified he’ll see it on your face, you stare at your shoes next to his. Spencer… Everyone told you he was a dork. When you joined the team in his absence, not once did you get the impression that the man who’d be coming back was like this. You feel like he’d been infantilised. Which isn’t to say he isn’t a dork, he is, he tells you the strangest things, facts or statistics to accompany each topic of the day, and he has all the manners and chivalry of someone who knows what it’s like to be as painfully shy as you are. But he isn’t shy. 
Autistic, he’d confided once. Probably. I’m better at dealing with it now. 
“You okay?” he asks. 
“Nervous.” 
“I know.” He grasps your arm as the train screeches on tracks, turning a tight bend. You’re grateful, but immediately flushed with heat. 
“I don’t want to embarrass myself.” 
“You couldn’t. I think I know you too well already.”
“You’ve known me for less time than the rest of the team, but you were the first person to offer me a place to stay.” You clench the rickety handle of your suitcase. “Thank you.” 
“That’s okay, angel.” He says it simply and softly, like you really are an angel. Something breathless to wait with. 
Angel, you think, heart skipping a beat, pulse slow and then suddenly ramped. 
His arm slips behind your back. “I don’t want you to stay in a hotel if it’s going to scare you. Besides, it’ll be fun. Like a sleepover.” He laughs. And you, despite your flush, heat sinking across your chest like a bruise, manage to laugh back. “I’ve never had one before.” 
“What?” 
“Never had a sleepover. I didn’t have any friends in school, and I haven’t had a girlfriend stay the night before.”
You look up at him with wide eyes, expecting a retraction. Not that you’re my girlfriend, not that you’re anything like that at all. 
He smiles at you. “Should we get takeout?”
“What were you thinking?” 
“There’s an Indian restaurant between the station and my apartment? We can stop in. Or we can order something to come. Or I can cook, if you want home cooked.” 
“No, it’s fine, you don’t have to cook–”
His lips turn to a quizzical pout. “I don’t mind.”
You want him to call you angel again. You want him to take you home, make you dinner, and you want to sleepover. Like a girlfriend, you want to wake up in his bed. 
“Sorry,” you breathe, “I think I’m just tired.” 
“Are you sure?” You nod. “Alright. I was worried you didn’t like the pet name, but your pupils dilated when I said it–”
You can’t escape him. One hand in the hanging strap above, the over on your suitcase handle, you have no choice but to stand there with his arm around you to keep you from falling, face so hot with it that you’re sure you’d be feverish to the touch. “It’s fine,” you say, too afraid to look at his face that you end up staring at the nice shape of his throat, his black and purple tie. “Call me what you want. Um, I think we should get Indian.” 
“Good choice, angel.” 
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batmanisagatewaydrug · 8 months ago
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So I’m a minor (16 to be specific) and I frequently watch and read stuff with explicit sexual or 18+ content in it. I live in an extremely conservative Christian household and things like explicit fanfic are pretty much the only option I have for learning about sex that isn’t abstinence only. I do feel bad about it, especially when I see adults online say stuff like “oh i watched lots of inappropriate things as a teen that i really shouldn’t have” and it makes me feel like I’m ruining myself in a way that I won’t realize until I’m an adult? Right now I don’t see what the big deal is but i get the feeling that when i’m 24 or something I’ll wake up one day and be ashamed of this for some reason i’m not mature enough to know yet. Should I just stop and wait until I’m 18 to continue or what?
hi anon,
okay. I'm gonna hit you with something:
turning 18 does not actually change the way you feel about porn or sex or anything. the difference between being seventeen and 364 days and being 18 is nonexistent. there's not a magical switch that changes you as a person; that comes from lived experience. if you're 18 and your experience is still that porn and smut and what have you i something that you should feel bad about, it's still going to feel that way and a birthday won't change that.
look, the whole notion of "I saw [x] that I shouldn't have when I was young" is like. okay. so you saw something that was a little mature for you that you didn't quite get? awesome. did you die? no. most people's hangups about sexuality don't come from seeing a rogue titty when they were a teenager, they come from the culture that person was raised in that made seeing a rogue titty feel like something to be ashamed of instead of a completely natural part of life.
story time! when I teach my 4th-6th grade OWL classes (Our Whole Lives, great human development program) I always start by holding a meeting with the kids' parents. I've been doing this for seven years, and every time without fail some of the parents will recall seeing porn for the first time as a kid. these guys were kids when printed porn magazines were still a thing, so they were discovering them in all kinds of places - the bedrooms of their parents or their friends' parents, at bus stops, in the woods, once even stowed in some farm equipment. and they remember it feeling illicit and exciting, sure, and possibly making them confused or even horny for the first time in their young lives, but like... that's it. none of these people are irreparably damaged by seeing porn. in fact, they've grown up to be the kind of people who go out of their way to make sure their young kids are enrolled in a queer-friendly, body-positive, diversity-embracing sex ed class to counter stereotypes and misinformation they might receive elsewhere.
looking at things that arouse you is morally neutral. it can be a great way to help you learn about what turns you on, and even if it's not the best source of factual, realistic depictions of sex, it can still help you discover things - hell, I only figured out what the clitoris was by reading Young Justice fanfic (shout out Snaibsel).
you can't ruin yourself, at any age, with the media you like to consume. what makes you uncomfortable and anxious is the attitude you've been taught to have about that media, which is something that has to be actively unlearned, because it's certainly not going to just disappear on its own when you become a legal adult.
tl;dr obviously no one is making you watch porn and you shouldn't if it makes you uncomfortable, but if you drop it right now and come back when you're 18 don't expect to feel any different if you haven't done any more unpacking re: the conservative Christianity of it all.
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envy-of-the-apple · 8 months ago
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Infinite Rewind
Gojo Satoru x reader
Synopsis: Instead of dying, you are sent 13 years in the past, but this isn't your face. "Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"
Part two: Rewound Infinitely
Word Count: 18.1k
(Warnings: slight yandere, death, murder, inaccurate Tokyo geography, blood, violence, mild gore, obsession, unhealthy relationships, child abuse/neglect, time looping(?), fem!reader) Ageless blogs that try to follow me will be blocked
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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. 
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?"
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. 
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. 
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. 
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. 
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. 
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.”
You forgive Suguru.
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.
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.
It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.
You forgive Suguru. 
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.
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?”
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."
"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.
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
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totalswag · 2 months ago
Note
Hii I have reques if you feel comfortable with it!
I read your drew fic with the arrest and I loved it!! I was wondering if reader was preforming bed chem outro instead of the back up singer it’s Drew and they get a little to carried away in front of the crowd. If That makes sense💕
bed chem ⎯ DREW STARKEY
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authors note thank you for sending this request and it makes glad you liked my arrested for being too hot fic. my requests are still open and i'm gonna be working on the requests that are in my inbox right now from recent requests. also, you can picture singer!reader picture any way you want <3 i’m using sabrina carpenter as inspo for singer!reader.
taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.
summary drew coming on stage at the very end of your song and you both get lost in the moment for a second in front of fans.
warning(s) mentions of intimate positions, kissing, touching.
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Earlier in the show, you arrested Drew, your boyfriend, for being too hot— everyone in the arena went crazy seeing him. What they aren't expecting to Drew making a second appearance.
At the very end of bed chem one of your backup dancers will come into frame holding a camera on his shoulder, and when the curtain closes you pretend to do intimate things then the stage lights go off.
Prior to the show you asked Drew if he would be okay to go this— he agreed. Making sure he's comfortable was your first priority. He talked about different ways coming on stage that were so funny.
You start singing the final chorus of bed chem on your knees, legs wide out and free hand in front of you as you lean forward. The curtain signal is about to close. From the corner of your vision, you can see Drew approaching with the camera on his shoulder, dressed in dark pants and a white tank top—fans immediately began to cheer as he entered the frame.
He looked so good you couldn't control the redness of your cheeks spreading like a teenager seeing their crush.
To make the moment better, you sway your body around on the bed, allowing yourself to relax. Drew is looking at you with a smile on his face as he gets closer to the edge of the bed.
Motioning him to get closer— he lifts one leg on the bed as the curtain makes its way around the bed. Slowly setting down the camera on the edge of the bed.
You moved closer to Drew, pressing your bodies together in a false display of intimacy. Drew played along well, massaging your sides as he drew you closer. The crowd's cheers intensified, and the excitement in the arena reached a fever pitch.
You leaned in and kissed Drew deeply, as the curtain began to close behind you. The kiss was supposed to be a tease, a staged performance for the spectators, but you found yourself becoming lost in it.
Drew's hands crept up to cradle your face, his touch soft yet forceful. You forgot about the crowd, the cameras, and everything. It was just you and Drew, completely lost in each other.
Your hands drag down his bare chest, and he leaps forward into you at the gentleness of your touch, sending lightning down your body. 
Once the lights turn off you both pull away from each other. Everything in your body right now is all over the place you think you are gonna explode. You are breathing heavily.
"You always know how to put on a show," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.
You giggled softly, your fingertips tracing the contour of his jawline. "And you always know how to make it unforgettable."
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nebulousmoon3990 · 2 months ago
Text
GHOSTS OF THE PAST (Batfam x neglected hero reader)
III𓂃› SPIDER
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Warning: violence, swearing, sensitive topics, bad things, spelling mistakes (English is not my first language) and the reader has black hair and blue eyes (sorry), female reader!, I accept criticism, but please don't be rude, everything is fictional!
Hey guys! I'm really sorry it took me so long to post (I was sorting out some things in my life). well, enjoy the chapter!♡
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Clark really didn't know what he was getting himself into.
He had expected to come to New York to do a simple interview for the Daily Planet, write the report and spreadsheet right here while eating at a café and if possible bring back some souvenirs for Lois and Jon.
Fighting a supervillain was definitely not in his plans.
It had happened out of nowhere, while he was waiting for the meeting with the businessman, the urgent news on television warning about a monster attacking the city made him leave urgently. He could solve this and finish it in time.
He just didn't know that he wouldn't need to solve it.
While flying, now as Superman, he easily found the villain, it wasn't very difficult to see him in fact. He was the size of a building of at least nine or ten stories, his skin was rocky and hard, made purely of stone. Clark was about to attack the giant when he heard a scream.
Looking through the villain a helicopter was in the way, the pilot tried to maneuver away but they would be enveloped in the confusion. Using his speed, Clark tried to get closer to the helicopter, however it was not enough since it was still far away.
The rocky hand would catch the vehicle before him.
Well, he is not alone.
Before the walking rock caught the propeller and possibly destroyed the vehicle something got attached to the hand and pulled it up, bringing the villain's focus to another place, his distraction was enough for him to catch the helicopter. He noticed as he moved away that what had stopped the giant was... a web? He followed with his gaze the path of the white rope and saw a figure pass quickly on it.
What?
Leaving the helicopter on top of a landing area of ​​a nearby building, he approached the frightened journalists. "Are you hurt?"
The one who answered was the cameraman, who was still breathing heavily, "N-no, Mr. Superman. We're fine-"
"IT'S HER! TYLER FILM, FILM!" The woman's excitement made the man quickly grab his camera. She looked at him and gave a shy smile while holding the microphone, perhaps a little embarrassed by her euphoria. "Oh, Superman, thank you very much. It's just that we never get clear images of her, so you can understand our excitement."
She? She who?
No one needed to answer his question because when he looked at the monster he saw the "she".
A super heroine
Her figure swayed between the giant and the buildings. She wore a suit that covered her entire body, leaving no room to see any of her features. All Clark could see was that she was short, perhaps indicating that she was a teenager.
The monster tried to grab her with its free hand, moving much faster than it had when it was with the helicopter. She, however, brought her webbed wrist towards the giant's face, causing him punched his own face. Swinging away from him, she taunted, her voice echoing off the buildings. "Hey big guy, is that all you know how to do? For someone so tough, you're softer than jelly!"
Hit a nerve, for sure.
"Who is she?" He asked the man who was filming the action with the reporter, even in a situation like that the cameraman looked at the heroine with a glint in his eye, a glint that intrigued Clark.
"Her? She's Spider-Woman."
Spider Woman, he had never heard of this superheroine, but that didn't matter now.The "Spider Woman" swung again on her webs at the stone man's aggression towards her. Superman moved away from the reporters and headed towards the brute. He was quick to bump his fist with the giant's, preventing him from punching a building. The action made the heroine finally notice the Kryptonian. She widened the white eyes of the mask when she saw him flying. "Superman?"
She hung from a building, climbing the glass to get closer to him, she looked at the monster and then at him, her head spinning until she realized something, knowing that he would help her she addressed him. "Hey, Superman. Can you immobilize him for me for at least a few seconds?"
The Kryptonian looked at her, hesitating a little, but then a smile appeared on his lips "Leave it to me."
They moved together at that moment. Clark used his freezing breath on the stone legs, freezing them and immobilizing him to the ground. With the giant still, the spider woman climbed on his back and reached his neck. While the monster struggled, he saw her take a syringe and apply it to the rocky neck. With the liquid entering the monster's veins, he began to scream. Clark was about to intervene when the thunderous scream stopped.
Slowly, pieces of stone fell from the giant, and when they found their end on the ground, they turned into sand, being carried away by the wind. Little by little, the monster began to disintegrate until there was nothing left of him, just a cloud of dust in the place. Approaching to see the damage, he went down and came across the individuals.
The villain, once gigantic and grotesque, was now a thin and small man, passed out in the heroine's arms, while his breathing stabilized, Clark for the first time observed Spider-Woman up close, without being in the heat of battle.
The costume she wore was outlined in black and golden, the fabric was a mix of a dull color and another bright color, the symbol of a spider displayed proudly on her chest, the hood covered the mask on her face, making it difficult to see the white eyes of the mask. What intrigued him most was that it was not common fabric, since when he tried to use his x-ray vision he could not see Spider-Woman's identity.
She certainly knew how to hide her identity.
Just like someone he knew.
"Looking at he now, he doesn't look like a villain."
"And he isn't, they forced him, he's just an ordinary citizen." The dust slowly cleared, now revealing the street they were on. "Honestly, it's a surprise to see you here, shouldn't you be in Metropolis?"
Clark started to sweat a little. True, he should be in Metropolis, not New York, but he couldn't just watch everything on TV, there was a villain attacking the city! And he didn't know New York had a heroine to protect them! How careless of him. "Yeah, actually, I was..."
"was?"
"I-I flew past here! That's it." Spider-woman looked at him before starting to laugh, well at least he tried to hide it, in fact the excuse had been pretty bad.
"Okay, I'll take this as truth, you must have your reasons, don't you, Mr. Clark?"
The aforementioned froze, looking at the spider, who stood up carrying the injured man. The sounds of sirens were heard in the distance, indicating that the police were coming. "What?"
This time, it was the spider woman who froze, realizing her carelessness too late. She looked at him, and even with the mask on her face, he could have sworn a bead of sweat was on his forehead. "Ah, I and my big mouth."
"Do you know my identity? How did you-"
"L-look, I swear it wasn't intentional, seriously! I have... my reasons to know, but I promise! I didn't tell anyone and I won't tell anyone." Superman just looked at her in astonishment, it wasn't intentional? How did she find out then? While the police and ambulance finally arrived, the woman was quick to hand the man over to the police and briefly explained everything, she distanced herself from the police, ready to leave as quickly as possible when he approached her.
"Who are you? Like, really?" She looked at him, clearly anxious to get out of there. "That's... a secret, but like I said, I won't tell anyone, don't worry."
She pulled away from him again, releasing a web from her wrist, already trapping her in a building to resume her run. But before that, she turned to Clark, the tone of her words showing no lies, only truths. "After all..."
"If I wanted to do this, I would have done it nine months ago."
And with that she was gone.
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Again, Clark didn't know what he was doing.
It had been a few days since his encounter with Spider-Woman, the revelation that she knew his identity disturbed him, but that wasn't what was going through Clark's head now.
That was who she was.
That woman (or teenager?, Clark doesn't know) had been saving New York for at least a year and absolutely no one in the league knew, she was literally under their noses the whole time and no one knew! But while they didn't know anything, but New York knew, you weren't liked by everyone but most definitely liked you, you gave those people security every day and they trusted you.
You were a real mystery.
In addition, there was the identity issue. Clark wasn't rich, so he didn't have spectacular security to hide his identity, but he always took precautions. You, however, found out so easily. Clark knew that your "it wasn't intentional" statement might be wrong, but whether it was intentional or not, you still did it.
Clark knew that you wouldn't reveal your identity to the world. Your statement made that very clear, but even so, his head itched and itched to meet you.
Maybe he was being hasty, but you were a great heroine, there was no denying that. You fought well, you were smart, and you had experience. You could be a good ally. Besides, Clark doesn't know if you're an adult, so it would be a good way to keep you under supervision.
That's why he's heading back to New York now.
The sun had already set, giving him a view of the beautiful night that had fallen while he was flying, but at that moment Clark was trying to find you.
He didn't know where you could be, in fact he didn't know what to do when he found you, he didn't even know what sparked his interest, he simply... felt. Something about how you were, the mystery surrounding you intrigued him, and Clark simply followed that instinct.
His thoughts were interrupted when his super hearing picked up a sound, of what sounded like running, it could have been anything but his instincts told him to follow the sound, to find the source.
He did.
And thank goodness he did, because he found you.
You were jumping over the buildings, like he had seen you do before, and it was only when you stopped that he could approach you. You were on the edge of the building, looking down at the floors. Clark intended to approach you, but it seemed like you had other plans.
"I thought you had already left." Your voice was neutral, showing no irritation or pleading, it was as white as a sheet, which made him stop, a little surprised that you had discovered him. "I did."
You turned to him, the eyes of the mask you were wearing showing him your confusion, looking him up and down, your reasoning led you to realize why he was here. "You- wait, are you following me?!"
"Following is a very strong word-"
"But you just admitted that you went to the metropolis and came to New York again!" Your arms gestured so quickly thanks to your nervousness that when you realized it you put one of them on your waist and the other you ran your hand over your face.
Clark couldn't help but find this cute.
"Look if this is because of the identity-"
"More or less, but that's not all." Clark's mouth turned into a gentle smile, your brain thinking about the possibilities again, all while you looked at him.
Silence reigned between the two, neither of them wanting to comment before the other, but it seems that Spider-Woman didn't have much time because a sound came from her gauntlet, she quickly accessed it and Clark saw that the "bracelet" was a type of miniature screen attached to the fabric of the suit, you looked at the messages before turning to Clark.
"I'm sorry but I have to go." You looked at the city below, looking at the lights that illuminated the place. Clark was about to speak when you cut him off before. "No offense Superman, but I think it's better if you go back to Metropolis, I don't have time to talk."
You spread your arms wide as you leaned towards the edge of the building, your eyes narrowed affectionately, which contradicted your voice full of irony. "Then this is our last meeting, thank you~"
And then you threw yourself.
Clark flew to the edge, ready to catch up with you, only to be faced with the emptiness of the city, you disappeared before their eyes, like a ghost.
"Then this is our last meeting."
No, it wouldn't be.
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And it wasn't.
For the past four months, Clark has been bothering you, appearing out of nowhere, scaring you, helping you, making you more irritated by his constant appearances, making you more dynamic, more ironic, but happy.
It was a confusion of emotions, to tell the truth.
You expected that after a while he would stop doing this, after all he had things to take care of, for example: a city called Metropolis.
But Clark apparently didn't agree with that, because at least once every two weeks he would go to New York just to talk. The weirdest thing is that he started talking about his life to you as if he had known you for years! He talked about how he loved Lois, his relationship with John and Conner, GOD! He even talked about the Daily Planet!
Dude, he didn't even know who you were and he was just talking about his life to you?
You, however, always listened to him, you didn't tell him anything about your life but you didn't stop listening to him either.
Honestly, if you wanted to, you could very well mess with his life.
Good thing you're the heroine here.
As you jumped between buildings, your danger sensor beeped, warning you of something approaching. Knowing who it could be, you went down to the terrace of a building. Your suspicions were confirmed when you felt a gust of air from above. Turning around, you came face to face with the hero who had been on your tail for the last few months: Superman.
Clark had a gentle smile on his face, the smile of a hero, something that conveyed confidence and comfort. And it really did.
"Hello, Mr. Super, you look as happy as ever."
"Yeah, you look as relaxed as ever." He landed in front of you as you leaned against the building's railing, your elbows keeping your body steady as you assumed a carefree posture. Clark glanced at the buildings behind you nervously, uneasy about something. "I hope you don't mind, but we have company today."
You arched an eyebrow in doubt as your danger sensor went off like crazy, you had a few seconds before you turned around and launched a web at the person. You expected to find a criminal or even a super villain, but you were faced with the sunglasses of a teenager in a costume similar to Superman. "Yeah, she's really fast like you said."
What?
Before you could react, a much smaller figure appeared in front of you, just like the teenager (the difference was that he was a child and didn't wear glasses) he also looked a lot like Clark, he floated in front of you, bright and excited eyes directed at you. "Wow! You're so much cooler in person!"
A drop appeared on your head, turning to the man of steel you muttered to him. "Who are-"
"John and Conner." He chuckled softly, seeing your eyes narrow in irritation. "John really wanted to meet you and Conner ended up joining too."
"Oh." You pulled away from John a little as sarcasm flooded your lips. "That's great!"
Conner chuckled softly as you released him from your web, he approached you as he bent down a little to speak to you, since he was taller. "I thought you'd be happy to see us, it's not every day three Kryptonians come to New York to help with crimes." His voice held an undeniable teasing, the low and deep tone of his voice having the words dragged in his speech, it seemed almost sensual.
You stopped as you watched the other two, John and Clark froze, their gazes fixed on Conner, who you had confirmed was trying to subtly court you.
But you're not the shy girl here.
You approached him, close enough to be face to face, your breath could be felt on his mask. Conner, surprised by your bold move, leaned back, his cheeks flushed with your approach. "Well, New York is already protected by its heroine every day, so I don't need help." The smile on your face grew when Conner turned redder at the sound of your voice.
You quickly moved away from him and hung on the ledge, you turned to him, your figure shining with the lights in the city. "Then watch me do my job, mini super."
You fell from the building, the wind shaking your hood as you fell. Before hitting the ground, you threw a web up and climbed up again, hanging on one at a time. As your figure moved away, Conner and John looked at you. "Damn."
"You better come, or we'll end up losing her."
The night would be very long.
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"OH GOSH, I'm so tired!" You yawned as you hung on the webs, it was almost four in the morning and you decided to go home. The supers had already left, you believe they were tired too (Especially Conner, where you and he played flirting all night).
You stopped on the terrace while looking around, seeing if someone or something had followed you, seeing no threat you hung on your web and slowly fell to your apartment, you opened the balcony door and as soon as you entered you were greeted by a satisfied meow.
Looking at the sofa in the living room, you saw Mooly lying on the cushion, the little black kitten moving and going to your ankle, cunning for affection. You laughed softly and picked her up gently, while placing her in your arms. "Hey, haven't you gone to sleep yet?"
As you petted the little one, footsteps were heard throughout the house, when you looked up you came across a large white vinyl robot, its form being embraced by its shadows, its round eyes shining in the dark space.
You looked at it and it did the same, the atmosphere apparently cold and tense to those looking from the outside, but completely the opposite for those who live in this house. The robot bowed respectfully, its voice, calm and tobotic, showed deep down a contained joy, reserved only for those close to it.
"It's so good to see you home." He stood up from his position, round eyes blinking slightly in the darkness of the apartment.
"Master (Name)."
You smiled as you set Mooly down on the couch again, you raised your hand to his neck and squeezed it, causing his mask to retract, revealing his identity. His face, the face of someone forgotten is a frequent presence on the walls here.
(Name) Wayne, the Spider-Woman, the missing daughter, the useless Wayne. His face was older than before, aged like red wine, clearly showing that you took after your father, since your face was just like his. Beautiful and exquisite, cold and deadly.
"It's good to be home Mark, where's Alex?" You asked as you squeezed your shoulder, which was a bit sore from today's patrol.
"Mrs. Alex is already asleep, she said she couldn't stand listening to you flirting with Superboy anymore."This made you laugh out loud, you could imagine Alex covering his ears so he wouldn't hear the two of you. You pressed the bracelet on your wrist and in a flash your suit retracted into the bracelet, showing your figure that had a loose blouse and pants. You stretched, heading towards the bathroom.
"Well, I guess I better go too, tomorrow I have a college project and Mrs. Vivian wants me early at the coffee shop" before you could get there Mark called you, his voice echoing through the house. "You got a message from Master Billy."
You stopped and looked at Mark, the notification displayed on his cute belly from an ologram. "Did he send it at this time?" The robot shook his head and handed the phone to you.
Opening your messages you went straight to Billy's contact, concern starting to creep in on you, but then again, you should know how Billy is.
Because when you saw the message you felt your stomach churn.
Billy Batson was eating the most beautiful and delicious candy you had ever seen in your entire life, and he sent it to you even though he knew about your addiction to sweets.
That little shit-
You quickly typed furiously on the cell phone keyboard, not caring that it was late, just wanting to curse Batson for making you feel hungry when you planned on not having dinner.
'Fuck, I hate you Batson ಥ_ಥ'
His answer didn't take more than a few seconds to come, his response irritating you even more.
'HEY, you finally answered me, I was already worried. Besides, I know you love me 𖹭𖹭𖹭(∪ ◡ ∪)'
'I promise I'll buy one for you, good night little spider ツ'
'...good night Billy.'
You wanted to cry, that's it.
Especially because you were hungry now.
Knowing your fate, you threw the cellphone on the couch and turned on the kitchen light, you heard Mooly and Mark's footsteps following you.
"I think there are still ingredients for a mug cake, right?" eating now wouldn't hurt.
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"Bruce? BRUCE!" The aforementioned looked at the entrance of the batcave where Tim and Jason had rushed in. The two looked like they had seen a ghost, sweaty and pale, still in their suits. "Tim, what is it?"
"You- You need to see this!" He sighed heavily as he threw himself into the chair at the control panel, his fingers typing faster than he had seen them on missions. Bruce looked at Jason, who was standing next to him, who had a burning look on his face, hope hidden behind his eyes.
What's going on?
Bruce didn't need to ask, because Tim began to explain to him. "Since the accident with... (Name), I've never found any clues..." Bruce shuddered at the sound of your name, they didn't talk about that subject.
Even after three years it still hurt.
"But that was because I wasn't looking in the right place!" The teenager put up the pictures of the bus that had been carrying you that day, only the wreckage that was left was in the picture. "But now-now I know where to look."
"Last year, Star City had several people kidnapped suddenly, just like (Name) no one found any clues about the case, but Jason and Roy investigated thoroughly and managed to find a kind of underground dungeon where the kidnapped people would be."
Now on the computer was the picture of the bus and of a kind of what Bruce would call a mental hospital. The place was so rotten and filthy that Bruce wondered if anyone lived there. "Apparently there's nothing, but if you look behind each of the huge graffiti on the wall..."
Tim, using the program, removed the graffiti, which gave Bruce a view of the white walls, but in the middle of them, pieces of something nonsensical resided there. "... and put them together."
The movement in Tim's hands moved the images on the wall, distorting and shaping them until one completed the other, making the nonsensical make sense.
"A symbol."
The symbol of a womb wrapped around a two-headed serpent.
"Do you know where else this symbol is?" Tim again returned to the image of the bus wreckage, he shaped the image and put together pieces of the walls that resulted in the same symbol, but with small parts missing. "So you mean-"
"That the same people who kidnapped the people in Star City were the ones who kidnapped (Name)." Jason answered for the two, his tone as dejected as Bruce's.
He can't blame him, he's in a similar state.
"The problem is that I can't find out what it means, I've tried on the Internet, in history books, even on Wikipedia! But I haven't found anything."
The crushing silence suffocated those present, leaving invisible marks on their being. "It has to have a meaning, anything- okay, what does it mean to a womb?!"
"Jason, this is stupid-"
"No, but we have to try! Shit, you only looked in science books or-or whatever, but have you tried to look for anything related to mythology?" Tim thought for a moment, but shook his head negatively.
"The womb refers to the woman, the mother. Now, what does a two-headed snake refer to?" Bruce asked no one in particular, his thoughts searching for the knowledge he had about it.
"Would it be a mother snake? That's nonsense."
Jason thought for a moment and realized something. "Technically, it's not." The red hood searched the control panel while talking to Robin and Batman.
"In Greek mythology, there was a creature that was half snake and half woman." The mythological image appeared next to the symbol. The grotesque figure of the creature somehow referred to the symbol.
"She was known as the mother of monsters."
"Echidna."
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HI GUYS, this chapter was a lot of work, I had a lot of blockages but I managed to do it.
Now I have a question to ask: Is Conner treated as Clark's son or brother?
You already know that I haven't read the comics, I've watched Young Justice (at least there it gave the impression that Conner would be treated as Clark's son) but on Wikipedia it says that Conner is treated as John's uncle, please answer me 😭.
I'm also doing a reader drawing (NON-CANONIC), I think I'll do headcanons too. I'll possibly leave a link below.
Ok, let's go to the Tag list \(•◡•)/:
@daiyanomochi - @amber-content - @wizzerreblogs - @foggyv-oid - @kore-of-the-underworld - @theunknowntravel3r - @space1crow - @shortnsweetsposts - @popursocks - @sugasweettea - @salfishers - @itachisank - @jsprien213 - @infirebaby - @yhin-gg -@h-ib
@bunbunboysworld - @h-ib - @sheep-from-rad - @tatsuri-zomushiki - @the-holy-pigeon - @geminis93 - @horror-lover-69 - @mybones537 - @eyeless-kun - @timotheechalametswifeys - @justabreadslice - @nymphzy0 - @1-800-g00ber - @pix-stuff - @jsprien213
sorry for any mistakes.
Bye 𖹭
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mattybsgroupie · 5 months ago
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— movies ★ matt sturniolo
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— CONTENTS: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); boob sucking/nipple play (f receiving); semi-public; sub!matt
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— NOTES: hello my darlings!!! SUB MATT IS BACK!!! nothing much to tell about this one, it's super short and super simple, just jerking him off at the movies lmao. not proofread but hope you enjoy anyways! thank you for almost 1,7K i dont deserve all of this love, yall are just fantastic.
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when matt and i first started dating, the movie theater was our favorite place. it was dark, comfortable, and no one would disturb us. as we grew into our relationship, date nights were no longer a priority, but we both knew how much we missed it. the innocence, the butterflies in my stomach, the nervousness about holding his hand, the giggly kisses and the awkward confessions.
“are we really doing this again?” matt asked me with the biggest smile on his face, adjusting his sweater. i nodded, glad that i was able to convince him to go out.
“we want… whatever’s next” he said to the cashier as he interlocked his fingers with mine, raising his free hand to his pockets, looking for his wallet. “yeah, this one” he nodded and grabbed the tickets, leading us to our assigned seats.
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i didn’t know how long it had been since the movie started. i would often lose myself on matt’s blue eyes, his skin reflecting the red colors of the big screen, his poorly done beard emphasizing his sharp features. i couldn’t resist placing a few kisses on his jaw, receiving chuckles and a squeeze on my hand, almost as if he was warning me to behave because he was actually interested in whatever we were watching. 
until the scenery changed. the lights turned warmer, the music slower and suddenly it was hard to breathe. i felt my chest raising on its own as the sensual atmosphere took over the room, matt’s grip on my hands tightening, silently asking me to take my eyes off of him and pay attention to the erotic scene in front of me. 
we didn’t expect such an explicit act. the actress had removed her bra, flashing her bare breasts to the few people at the movie theater. matt’s mouth fell open in surprise and i audibly gasped, quickly raising my palm to cover my sudden noise.
both of us turned our heads to each other, widening our eyes as we tried to hold back our laughs. “i promise i’m not looking” matt joked, pretending to block his view.
“you can look” i giggled, adjusting myself on the chair and getting closer to matt, letting my hand rest on his thigh. “i know how much you like boobs”
“well” he stopped for a second. “you’re right, but i’d rather look at yours” matt checked me out from head to toe, a grin appearing on his face as if i was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
i decided to be bold. my free hand moved to the hem of my sweater, pulling the cloth upwards and revealing just a bit of skin - enough to get him excited. i mentally thanked him for always choosing the back row, giving us privacy to our heated makeout sessions back then.
“please?” matt whispered, his digits reaching for my exposed tummy. “wanna see your boobs, please”. 
it was definitely risky, but i couldn’t resist his pleading blue eyes, the way his top teeth bit his bottom lip, how his fingers caressed my belly. what seemed like nothing to others was already too much for us, along with the adrenaline of doing the same silly things we did years ago as teenagers in love. i had blew him at that same seat several times, but it was different now. as if we weren’t supposed to be acting that way. and it felt too fucking good to ignore.
i finally gave in, pulling my sweater and revealing my breasts. i wasn’t wearing a bra, making this way easier for matt, who immediately shoved his face in between them, muffling a “thank you” i was only able to hear because it was a habit. he would always thank me for anything i gave, even my boobs. 
his beard tickled my skin as he moved downwards, resting his cheek just above my left tit. he wasn’t going to speak, too busy sticking his tongue out to tease my nipple before latching his lips around it. matt sucked so hard i left out a sigh, bringing my fingers to his hair, caressing his brown locks as i whispered how much of a good boy he was, which certainly didn’t help his impatient self. matt squirmed around on his chair, trying to get comfortable and ignore the growing tent inside his pants.
“need help, baby?” i asked, brushing my digits over his boner. matt nodded desperately, not letting go of boobs until i wrapped my knuckles around his covered length, making him gasp from the sudden contact. “what’s got you like that, hm? was it the movie or me?”
“you” he said, hiding his face on the crook of my neck. “always you”.
“such a good boy for me” i praised, receiving a muffled whine in response.  “nuh uh, keep it down. you don’t want them to hear us, do you?” matt denied with his head, jointing his hips forward, silently asking for me to actually jerk him off. i knew it had hit him too. the nostalgia, the excitement, the risk of doing something we shouldn’t. 
matt dragged his lips across my chest as i finally got a grip of his cock, placing my hand inside his pants and slowly pumping his shaft. he placed his tongue on my nipple once again, sucking it at the same pace i would stroke him. with long minutes of a lazy and steady handjob, matt was far gone — he couldn’t care less about the movie, frantically chasing for his orgasm.
i could feel his chest panting as i heard the heavy sighs coming from the back of his throat. matt was trying so hard to stay quiet and yet, he failed, letting out a cracked moan when i brought my thumb to his leaking tip, rubbing his slit as i tightened the grip on his throbbing cock.
“cum” he whispered to me, not opening his eyes. i pretended i didn’t hear it, my eyes glued to the big screen in front of me. “please, wan’ cum” matt spoke again, replacing the lips on my boobs with his hands, massaging my flesh.
he wasn’t getting what he wanted — my attention and permission. “princess, please” he pleaded, now covering my neck in kisses as he mimicked on my nipples the same movements i did on his slit. i savored the moment for a bit, hanging my mouth open as his kisses turned into love bites.
“hold it” i said, loosening my fist. matt whined at the loss of contact, throwing his head back in frustration. “you look so pathetic, baby” i cooed, running my fingers through his hair before cupping his cheeks. he looked so, so fucked out. “such a needy boy, aren’t you?”
“no” he pouted, blue eyes covered in desperation. “i’m good, i promise i’m your good boy!” matt said, moving his hips upwards, trying to get some relief to his aching cock.
“you’re gonna have to wait until a really loud scene comes up” i told him. “we don’t want anyone to hear this good boy cumming all over himself hm?” i asked with faux sympathy, feeling his length twitching against my hand. he wasn’t gonna be able to hold much longer.
“boobs” matt practically begged. “i will keep my mouth on them and i won’t make any noises” he said, more to himself than to me.
“yeah? you wanna cum sucking my boobs?” i teased matt, who vigorously nodded while adjusting himself one last time. he spread his legs open, waiting for my cue. “go ahead” i encouraged him and he immediately latched his lips around my nipple again, muffling his needy sounds as i jerked him off, my fingers pumping his swollen length rapidly enough for matt to cum seconds later.
matt’s whines turned to whimpers as he reached his high, releasing the sticky spurt over my hand. i couldn’t see it, but i knew the inside of his pants looked like a mess. he panted heavily as he slowly came back from his orgasm, thighs still trembling after holding it for so long.
i kissed the top of his head as i finally removed my palm from him, raising it near my mouth and licking his cum. “don’t do this to me” he said as he watched me, pulling my sweater down. “i’m gonna get hard again”
“good thing we have the whole movie left” i smirked before sealing our lips together in a passionate, hungry kiss. 
after all these years, we were still the same kids who started dating at the back row of the movie theater.
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lymtw · 5 months ago
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Ex Bf Toji
Yes, you and Toji used to live together, but falling out, splitting up, breaking up, and any other phrase used to signify the separation of two lovers, typically means no contact, for however long. Toji did the moving and you stayed where you were for however long it took to feel okay with not seeing him every day.
He didn't cheat. Toji is many things, but he is not a cheater. He saw no reason to, just like he sees no reason to forget you.
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He snuck three things of yours into his luggage, to really keep you with him, because you'll get them back at some point, anyway. He took one of your used shirts, an old photo of you and him, and a pair of your underwear. It'll take three days to get you back—he's sure of it. He won't give all of these things back to you in one go, nor will the three days be consecutive. He's smarter than that. They'll be spaced out as he sees fit. When you least expect it, he'll call or text you to let you know about something that he "accidentally" brought with him.
Truthfully, he felt like an old, abandoned dog, the first few weeks that he spent apart from you. He constantly checked his phone, hoping to receive messages from you. He knew it was delusional for him to expect you to text and call, yet he still waited. He moped around his motel room, unsure of what to do, because you were the one who usually planned everything. You were the one who pulled him along with you everywhere, hand in hand. He never lacked excitement or interest around you and he felt safe, but two months later, as he sits on the bed in the same room with the most unnecessary and foul patterns, there's a gross feeling in his gut. Things are too quiet and he absolutely hates it. The silence gives him headaches sometimes and he devastatingly misses your chaos in those moments. He's stuck thinking about you, alone. He doesn't even feel like leaving his room to buy beer to make him feel less or enhance his emotions—whichever comes first.
You know he got it bad for you, when he preferred to use your underwear over and over to get himself off than let some other girl touch him. A third month passed and he still longed for your touch so damn much. He felt like a horny teenager with the way he treasured the garment he stole from you and touched himself to pictures and videos on his phone. Pictures and videos of you. Dirty ones that you would send him through messages, followed by innocent hearts and winky faces, as well as his own personal collection of ones he took.
He misses your smell, your taste—god, you were everything. How could things get so bad that you ended up apart from each other? He could really use your attention right about now. You don't even need to touch him, your company would suffice.
Your voice comes through the speaker of Toji's phone, his name moaned out shamelessly loud as you cum, your phone's camera capturing the whole thing for him. His heart drops to the depths of his stomach at the sound and he ruins the fabric of your pretty, blue panties, deep moans of your name flowing freely.
Toji is just as shameless as you in that video. He swipes off the old video of you and scrolls back down to the bottom of your conversation. It's a good thing you haven't blocked his number.
Hey, I accidentally brought these with me.
[Images Attached: 1]
I'm in my room if you wanna come get them.
He's the devil for keeping his cum stain out of the picture, because had it been in there... He's not sure you would have accepted to come get your missing pair of underwear.
I'm off in 20. Room 723, right?
You got it, doll.
You hate that you know where he's staying. You hate that you don't tell him to stop calling you doll, but most of all, you hate that temptation got the better of you. This will be the second time you go see him because he has something of yours.
The first time was a month ago, and it was about a shirt. One that you didn't even know you were missing until he texted you about it getting mixed with his stuff. You didn't reply because two months into your break up still felt too soon to be in contact with him, but he called. He called and kept calling until you answered, and every time he called, your heart would start racing at the sight of his name displayed on your screen.
Your first mistake was answering. His voice made you nervous, in a first date kind of way, the way it was so calm and steady while talking. It was like he was calling on his way home to you from a job. You did your best to be mature about it, but your nervousness shone through with every 'uh...' and 'sure, that should be fine' instead of 'yes'.
When you went to go see him, your stomach swarmed with butterflies at the sight of those dark, fern-colored eyes. You were so nervous and Toji picked up on it because of how you made it your job to speed up the process of retrieving your shirt.
He invited you into his room and your second mistake was accepting his invite. You felt strange being alone with him again. Anxious? No. Uncomfortable? Not that, either. More like homesick.
Toji didn't make it any easier with the gaze he had set on you. He observed your face—your eyes, your nose, your lips. He couldn't stop himself from continuing down the path to your body. Your neck, your chest, your waist, your hips—all things he wanted to put his hands on. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he could feel his heart thrashing in his chest. Having you so close was a rush. His adrenaline skyrocketed every time you looked into his eyes. He couldn't focus. He felt jittery. At some point, he couldn't take it anymore. With a final stuttered breath, he reached for you, and pulled you into him for a kiss. An aggressive one, that left you breathless and conveyed just how badly he needed you.
You didn't know what was going on, but the feeling was far from unfamiliar. The feelings brought on by this spontaneous gesture, you've felt them more times than you can remember, each time so special. It's the reason for why you struggled to push him away. You struggled to maintain the boundaries that worked to prevent this very thing from happening. You were long gone the moment he put his hands on you— the moment he spun you towards his bed and laid you down. It was selfish on both ends. You were both lonely and touch deprived. It shouldn't have gone further than kissing and some over the clothes wandering of hands, but there was a clear deficit of self control, and because of it, your bodies familiarized themselves with one another, again.
You're now standing outside his door, there to pick up an old pair of underwear that you could have just asked him to throw out. You couldn't lie, part of you wanted to see him, just to make sure he's doing alright since the last time you were there. It's been a little over a month since then. Maybe he has a new girlfriend. Even if he doesn't, you don't want the situation to be misread. You're not together anymore and there's no chance of a reconciliation any time soon. It's just not meant to be, for now.
Toji opens the door and the butterflies start their fluttering in your guts all over again. You don't want to listen to them or your racing heart or the sudden throb you feel between your legs, but he's shirtless.
You clench your jaw to prevent yourself from drooling and remember that you're there for one thing only, and it's not for another fuck with your ex.
"You sure you still want them?" Toji asks, when the silence gets to be too much. He unfolds the blue material to reveal the creamy substance that litters the gusset.
"Uh... yeah, sure." You feel your face grow warm. "They'll be good again after a wash." You take them out of his hands and fold them back up before putting them in your bag.
He leans against the doorframe, eyeing you up and down. He's not being subtle, if he's even trying to be.
"I was thinking of you," he says, once again breaking the loud silence. "You know, when I got them dirty." He nods towards your bag.
"Oh. That's..." you stop mid sentence, unable to find a way to end it. "It's fine."
"Wanna come in? You hungry? Thirsty? Tired?"
"None of that. I should get going anyway. Still need to get groceries for the week." You do your best to avoid letting your eyes trail down his body and hope that he doesn't insist. It'll be so hard not to give in.
"I'm sure you have enough to last until tomorrow. One more day without a fully stocked fridge couldn't hurt."
You sigh. Why does he always have to make it so difficult to turn him down?
"A glass of water would be nice."
He hums, satisfied by your response. He takes a few steps into his room, allowing you to walk in. The second you shut the door, he's right behind you, his front flush against your back, pinning you to the door. He bombards you with his touch.
"Knew you'd come, mama. Fuck, I missed you." He's kissing your neck, pulling up your shirt to feel your soft skin beneath his rough palms.
"T-Toji, what are you doing? I'm not here for this." He ignores you and keeps kissing your skin. "We can't do this, again. Last time was..." He's stretching the collar of your shirt to expose your shoulder, where he presses more kisses. "I-It was the last time. We can't."
"We can," he counters, sliding his hand down the front of your pants and into your underwear. "I miss you, baby. Don't you miss me?" He purrs into your cheek.
A sharp gasp leaves you with a brush of his fingertips against your clit. Your hands go to the door to keep you stable.
"I'm not fucking anyone else. Are you?" He asks, watching your reactions to the languid motion of his fingers against your clit.
"Mm-mm," you hum, eyes shut as you shake your head against the door.
"Say it," he mutters, into your ear, pressing his lips against the spot beneath it. His free hand rides up your torso, going up towards your chest. It goes beneath your bra to grope at your breasts.
"Fuck, Toji... No, I'm not sleeping around."
"Yeah? That's good. I'm glad."
"You were an asshole," you say, your voice low. "I shouldn't even be l-letting you touch me." You feel like you're crumbling. You're trapped between him and the door, as well as stuck between pleasure and rationality.
"You know i'm sorry, and you're an angel for letting me touch you after so long. Don't run off so fast like you did last time." His lips go back to devouring the skin of your neck, littering it with marks that will make you think of this moment when you look in a mirror.
"F-Fuck, i'm gonna cum. Gonna-"
Your legs go wobbly and you press your hands more firmly against the door to try and hold yourself up. Toji's arm tightens around you, supporting you as he works you through the intensity of your orgasm. Your whimpers and moans are heaven sent. So sweet and entirely dedicated to him.
"Come on," he mumbles, pulling you up straight, onto your unsteady legs. He turns you around so that he can hoist you up by the backs of your thighs, and as if on instinct, you wrap around him. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, your legs around his waist. It's so strange to feel his warm, bare skin against you, again. Your face is buried into the crook of his neck, like when he would pick your sleeping body up from the couch and carry you to bed.
He sets you down and pulls your shoes off, throwing them somewhere in the room, carelessly. With impatient breaths, he's back on you again, kissing you, and feeling up the body he grew accustomed to holding, but was now deprived of.
"Fuck." He pauses. "Take it all off, baby." He presses chaste kisses onto your lips as he pushes your shirt up, further directing you to undress yourself.
You feel ridiculous for having followed his directions so unquestioningly, but there you are, naked for his eyes, hands, and mouth.
"What are you doing?" Toji asks, confused at the sight of you on your stomach, your face buried in the pillow.
You turn your head to the side, to not muffle your words. "I don't wanna look at you."
"Why's that?" He traces your spine with his fingers, lidded eyes following the invisible trail. "Don't tell me you're still feeling guilty over last time."
You shake your head, wordlessly. You have nothing simple and quick to respond with.
"I wanna look at your pretty face."
You shake your head, again, and he knows he's going to have to melt away your stubbornness. You're not like this. You know he doesn't fuck you like this, ever. It's the first unfamiliar thing to occur since you started talking and since you agreed to meet up and it doesn't sit well with him.
His hands start at your hips and ride up your waist, merging onto your back, going up towards your shoulder blades. He knows of your weakness for when he says things straight into your ear. He has confirmation of this from just a couple minutes ago, when he had you against the door. It brings out a range of emotions from you, but ultimately, it gets you to mellow down a little.
"Let me love on you properly, mama," he starts. Your heart races at the feeling of his breath against your ear. You're throbbing with every deep-voiced mumble and his weight on you again. "Wanna take care of you, pretty girl. Must be so tired after a long day, huh?"
You sigh, releasing some of the built up tension in your body and nod.
"Yeah... I know, doll. Let me make it better."
Just like old times. You miss those days when your schedules aligned and you got to meet at home once you both finished work. It was always a race to see who got there first, but there was never an actual winner when the first thing you would do was shower together. Toji went in before you every time to rinse off the nastier splotches that littered his skin and you joined in on his mark. All the weariness and tension melted away when the water ran down your bodies. These were moments where you were so in love with him. Time slowed down through pressurized squeezes of his rough hands on your weary, smaller muscles, and your softer hands on his more defined and prominent, yet, still aching ones. There were also those delirious, casual conversations that bounced between being so tired that you could sleep together through the rest of the day, but also being so hungry that you could eat a family pack dinner, together in one sitting.
That is why you don't want to look at him. All those memories will come back, again, at the sight of his handsome face. You miss him, too. Your love for him hasn't been completely disposed of, but there's a reason for why you're in his room and not your shared home. Your schedules were unaligned for too long. You barely ever saw each other. You only saw him for brief periods of time in the morning and at night and your days off didn't coincide with his. Date nights became a rarity. Maybe once every couple weeks, you would go out to a place with a peaceful and quiet atmosphere, so that you could get a few hours to remember that you still love each other. Suddenly, he has spare time and it's so hard to deny him when he wants to spend it with you.
"Baby, please," he says, following his words with a kiss to your temple. You let out a deep breath and take a second before you start wiggling under his weight. He scoots off of you and allows you to do what you need to do. Once you're on your back, he wastes no time crawling onto you, again, to begin his worshipping of you.
That warm feeling you used to get around him is slowly seeping back in with every kiss he plants on your face and your neck. The way his hands smoothly glide over your body strangely makes you think of more aggressive times, when he would be so impatient, handling you so swiftly, just wanting to mold his body into yours. The scratches and crescent indentations his blunt nails would leave on your skin from the intensity of it all—you can't forget them.
He nears your soft, warm, blank chest. It's not like he didn't trust your word, but now he has visual evidence of how you weren't lying about not sleeping around. If things hadn't fallen apart between you and him, your chest would be littered with his fading marks on it. You're long due for a round of semi-permanent kisses.
His lips mouth at your chest, wet kisses being spread all over it. You instinctively let one of your hands come up to the back of his head, your fingers coursing through the dark locks of hair. He tries not to react so desperately to the feeling, but your touch is addicting. He doesn't want you to stop. No one has touched him like this since you and it really shows. Between the endless contact of his lips on your skin, layered with soft sighs and the constant caressing of your body, you can tell he's just grateful for being able to have you like this, again.
"You miss my chest?" You ask, acknowledging the amount of time he's spent on the area. He's been leaving marks left and right, between your breasts, on them and beneath them, too.
"All of you, not just your chest," Toji responds, before latching his lips onto one of your nipples. Your other one is handled by his fingers until he gives it a turn in his mouth, his fingers going to the one he just released. He loves being able to feel how your chest puffs and dips with every breath, and how it stutters with the swirling of his tongue over your buds.
"Toji," you call, breathily. Your hand lowers to the nape of his neck, meeting the tips of his hair that graze it.
He releases your breast with a quiet pop, pressing one more kiss to the glistening peak before tending to your call of his name.
"I know, doll. Feeling sensitive?" You nod, in response and he cracks a grin. "It has been a while... and I don't blame you, but you don't answer the phone enough." His kisses start, again, down your body—starting between your breasts and traveling down your abdomen. His lips paint your stomach, unintentional heart resembling marks formed through short-lived stinging sensations. "Can't do this for you if you don't pick up the phone. Just for a few minutes," he purrs, kissing above your navel. His hands cup around your hips, his thumbs massaging the area while he trails his mouth even lower down your body. "And if you don't wanna hear my voice, just answer my messages, mama. It's so fucking simple to get me next to you."
You shudder when his breath fans over your pelvis. Goosebumps rise over your skin all over again and your heart drops when green, lust filled eyes hold your gaze, pinning you down. You squirm beneath his unwavering attention, losing the eye contact battle when his hand goes to your thigh. You see the faintest sign of a smug grin once his eyes refocus on your body.
"How'd you get this gnarly bruise?" He asks, lightly running his fingers over a purplish yellow splotch on the lower part of your outer thigh.
"I ran into the corner of a table. I was in a rush."
He hums, disapproving of your reason, but nonetheless leans forward to kiss it. It brings him back to when he would walk into a room right on time to catch you groaning in pain and flipping off the coffee table while muttering curses, after ramming your knee into the corner of it, or when you would open your mouth in a silent scream after knocking your elbow into something and hitting your funny bone. He really considered putting guards on all the corners in the house, because of the constant bruises he found on your pretty skin.
"You gotta be more careful, doll," he says, kissing the blemish once more before continuing up towards your inner thighs. "Can't have you wearing this pretty body down with so many bumps." His breath grazes the space between your thighs, again. His attention goes from your glistening cunt, to your unsteady chest, before landing on that needy expression on your face that makes his cock twitch.
"You look so pretty." He drags his fingertips through the wetness of your slit, watching the adorable way your stomach quivers at the contact. "So wet over the way I kiss you up," he says, hypnotized by the way your slick connects his fingers to you with every up and down gliding motion. "You're precious, ma. Look at that... You're drooling so much, already." He drags a knuckle through your slit.
"F-Fuck." You shudder beneath his teasing touch. "Please. Toji-" you cut yourself off with a moan when his mouth attaches itself to your throbbing clit and his middle finger slowly sinks into your slick hole. Your thighs twitch in Toji's hold, the pleasure intense with all the fresh stimulation offered by him.
"Sweet as ever," he murmurs, pulling his finger out of your now twitching hole, to suck your juices off. He watches your face contort as two fingers stretch you out, now. Whimpers and moans are released with every curl of his fingers and with his tongue going back to your clit, you can't help all the squirming you're doing. Toji knows your body as well as he knows his own. Those hips rolling against the mattress and your back arching is a sign of your quickly approaching release. The fact that it's happening so fast is endearing to him. You really haven't been touched in a while and he loves being the only one you've allowed to replenish your level of physical intimacy.
You don't even warn him when you cum. Your notice is a sharp gasp, followed by the sweetest moans he's ever heard. Your overload of wetness coated his fingers and dripped onto his palm. Toji watched through dark, lidded eyes, as your chest heaved and your brows pinched with pleasure. Your bitten up lips parted to release heavy breaths and whines of satisfaction. He stopped before the overstimulation could make its way to you, pulling his cum coated fingers out of you and lifting his mouth from your clit.
While he did enjoy being a little mean and overstimulating you back when you were a couple, he knew this was not a moment for that. He said he was going to love on you and he planned to follow through with that.
"Fuck." You sigh, extending your arms above your head, before stretching your body. You groan as your chest rises and your back arches before releasing the tension, a giggle homing into Toji's ears once you settle again. Within seconds, he's face to face with you again, his body invading the vacant space between your legs. His hands go to your wrists, crossing them above your head.
"What are you giggling about?" His nose is centimeters from bumping into yours.
You giggle even more at his proximity and the sly smirk that plays on his lips. "Mm... just came all over your fingers within like two minutes," you mumble.
"You did, huh?" He says, squeezing your wrists affectionately.
"Mhm," you hum.
"That still doesn't break the record," he adds.
"No... It doesn't." You say, through a laugh.
A tension-riddled silence follows, longing looks exchanged during the stillness of the moment. Toji uses his control to lean forward the rest of the way to kiss you. The kiss is soft and slow, despite the way he keeps your wrists pinned, a visual that shows your surrender to him.
He hums against your lips, breaking the lip lock with a quiet smack. "Can I put it in?" He asks, leaning back to see your response.
"Yeah, okay," you say, blushing, but nodding to double confirm.
He releases you so he can remove his boxers and finally release his aching cock from its confines. He's been hard this entire time, but your needs were put ahead of his because, like the last time, he initiated this.
Toji sighs, feeling his cock throb and twitch at the thought of being in your incomparably soft and warm walls, in just a few seconds. As he drags his tip along your slit, he can't help but think about how this would be the first time he has sex since you last let him touch you, a month ago. He might cum as quickly as you did, maybe even quicker.
He keeps a hand on your stomach, rubbing as an act of comfort, as his other hand guides his tip into your hole. He pushes in, keeping his focus on you as he slowly feeds his length into you.
"Fuck, doll. Doing so well. Almost there."
You never get used to the initial stretch. It's not unbearable and you know it's worth it, so you deal with the short amount of discomfort.
"Oh fuck, it's in," he says, mentally relieved that he didn't cum early. You both let out sighs.
After a couple minutes of getting comfortable and picking up a gentle pace, things were good. Quiet sounds of pleasure took over the room. This time isn't as aggressive as the time before. Last time, things happened in a flash. One moment you were just talking, the next you were being fucked incoherent, and before you knew it, you were getting dressed and leaving Toji's room with the most guilty feelings.
This wasn't that, at all. He wasn't slamming his hips into yours or pinching your waist between his hands. His thrusts were paced, like he wanted this to last a while, and he touched you with the gentleness of someone who, wholeheartedly, isn't over you. Someone who still holds an immense amount of love for you.
You're not faring any better, than him. You find yourself wanting to bring him closer. You truly want him all over you. The second you extend your arms towards Toji, he's leaning closer towards you so you can touch him. Your hands make contact with his shoulders and he gets immediate goosebumps. He's working to suppress the groan that's paired with the chills that run down his spine, when he looks at you from this proximity. You let your hands glide up to the nape of his neck and you pull him into you for a kiss. Your cunt flutters around him when his lips move against yours in synchrony, his hips continuing their languid pace. His kisses always leave you breathless, so you end up having to be the first to bail, when you can't compete with his lung capacity. He continues kissing your face, groans released into your cheek and jaw, while you gasp and whimper over his gentle precision.
"T-Toji... Toji- Fuck."
He hums into your neck, his lips brushing against it immediately after. "Miss you... so... fucking much," he pants. "Please..." his voice lowers, and his lips move towards your ear. "Please, baby."
His arms cage you in and you feel smothered by him, like you're drowning in him. He's all you know in this moment. His body, his voice, his touch, his smell. All you can do is feel as he thrusts into you, repeatedly reaching that part within you that renders you the most perfectly behaved angel for him. He can feel the way your chest jolts with every hitch of your breath. He can hear your stifled hiccups up close, as he murmurs needy words into your ear.
"You..." he pants, a subtle groan caught by your ears. "You heard me, right, pretty girl?" He presses a kiss to your earlobe, awaiting your response. You nod, a sultry hum being the only sound you manage to let out. You clench around him, briefly, but long enough for his hips to stutter. "Fuck..." he sighs, burying his face into your neck, again. His hips pick up their pace a little, luring a sharp gasp and a moan out of you. "I-I need you back with me. Miss you lots," he says, muffled by the delicate skin he nibbles on.
"I-I know. I know, Toji. You're not the only one."
"So fucking come back to me, already. What are you doing?"
"Gonna cum. I'm gonna cum," you blurt, writhing beneath him.
"Keep squeezing me like that and you're gonna make me cum," he grunts.
"T-Toji, please," you whimper, the sensation of your nearing orgasm growing stronger. "Toji," you cry out once more, before your wetness gushes out, coating his unrelenting cock.
"Shit," he hisses. He barely has time to watch you when he's on the verge of spewing into you with every clench of your velvety walls. A few seconds pass, and with stuttering hips, a tensed abdomen, and gritted out, breathy curses, he fills you up with his cum. Ragged breaths are released into the air, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. He pulls away from you, his eyes glued to you as you work on recomposing yourself.
You're lucent in his eyes. The layer of sweat that coats your neck brings attention to the harsh marks he left on your previously untraced skin. The prettiest blush remains on your face, and those slightly parted lips look so appetizing. The sight is hauntingly beautiful.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you tease, feeling him still silently watching you.
He snickers. "You're gonna let me take a picture of you like this?"
"Nope. I was kidding," you say, smiling as you sit up. Toji catches you eyeing your pile of clothes and speaks up before you start reaching for it.
"Can you not get dressed, yet? Stay a little while, yeah?"
Your heart drops at the question. You tell yourself over and over that you won't be spending the night with him, in an attempt to convince yourself that after the worst that can be done with an ex has already been done, this is nothing to worry about. What's another hour spent lying next to him in his bed?
You thought that's all you would be doing together, but then you ended up showering together. His attempt to help you get cleaned up made you crave another round, which he happily indulged in. After that was when you finally lied in bed together and you really didn't want to leave by the end of it all. It was already nighttime and you had gotten so comfortable, almost forgetting that you weren't home with him. Everything smelled like Toji, even you. He kept you in his arms as you discussed the future of things between you two. A weight was lifted off his shoulders when you implied that there's still a chance.
You did decide to drive home that night and when you got there, you sat in your car, just thinking about what happened, for way too long.
The third and final day came some weeks later. You got better at responding to Toji's messages and his phone calls. Things seemed like they were rekindling between you two.
Hey, can you come see me today?
I'm not in the mood for sex, if that's what you want me there for.
You know that's not the only reason I want you. Come over.
I won't touch you if you don't want me to.
Say something.
Respond.
Oh so you don't want me to get there safe? I'm. DRIVING.
Fuck, doll. Scaring me for nothing. Drive safe.
On the drive to his room, you thought about the conversations you've had with Toji on the phone, these past weeks. Some were short and straight to the point, while others didn't allow you to put your phone down for more than three minutes. His indirectness was usually the cause of longer conversations. He didn't want to seem overbearing, so instead of saying he missed you, he would ask if you had eaten. Instead of saying he missed spending leisurely time with you, he would let you know that that one cheesy movie you like is playing on one of the TV channels.
It was sweet until nighttime came and the messages started straying from innocent longing. Conversations where he was telling you about how much he missed sleeping next to you, turned into him saying that he couldn't sleep because he wasn't holding your chest and smelling your hair. Minutes later when your phone rang, you panicked. You wanted to hear his voice, but you knew better than to try and hold an innocent conversation with him when the messages that preceded the call weren't innocent. You let the phone ring for a few seconds, but the second you heard him, you felt so many things. His voice was so deep and he sounded tired and your heart was beating way too fast. You were feeling things that contradicted everything that made you hesitant to answer his call. With every word he spoke, your mind flooded with sinful thoughts that made the space between your legs viciously throb. Maybe you were glad he was feeling this way from the start, because his voice, his words, and the sounds he made alike, all ended up getting you there.
Muscle memory got you to Toji. You were zoned out the entire time, remembering those texts between you and him, that had you giggling to yourself like when you first started dating. You were in shock when you turned into the parking lot, realizing that your mind was so occupied with Toji, that the drive seemed shorter. You walked right up to the door with the, now familiar, bold 723 on it. A few seconds went by before the door opened. Toji held the door open for you shutting it when you made it into his room.
The first thing you noticed was that he had tidied up quite a bit. It almost seemed like he had just arrived to the room, no clothes on the floor or empty food containers on the counters, but his bed wasn't made and his drawers had unfolded clothes hanging out of them. He's been like this since you lived together. It's just a habit that refuses to die.
"You made a copy of this photo?" You ask, picking up the picture frame that rests on his nightstand. You both looked annoyed in the picture. The photographer kept pestering you to get your picture taken on your date and you had politely declined so many times, but he kept insisting, so you and Toji decided to just get it over with. The photographer said 'smile', and he laughed nervously when you both kept a straight face. He gave up and snapped the picture like that.
"Nah, that's the original. It followed me here, like your clothes."
You snicker, eyes still focused on the way Toji put his arm around you in the picture. "Clothes seem a little more reasonable to haul along by accident, but this was in a box I keep hidden on the top shelf of the closet."
"It's not really hidden if I found it so easily."
"People who don't snoop around wouldn't find it as quickly."
His hands go to his pockets. The urge he feels to hug you from behind to look at the picture with you, is heavy. "It's not snooping if we used to share the closet. When I was packing my stuff, I tried not to leave anything behind, so of course I was gonna check every crevice of the house."
You put the picture down and turned to look at him.
"That was pretty selfish of you. Taking my things, but not leaving a scrap of yours behind."
"Yeah? That was selfish of me?" He grins. "You wanted me to leave something behind?"
"At least a button or... I don't know, one of your sweaters."
"A button or a sweater." He hums like he's in thought. "That's a big jump, doll." He sits down on the edge of his bed with a sigh, a small lump of his blanket flattened by his weight.
"We made a big jump, Toji. One minute we were doing stupid shit like that." Your hand aims towards the picture of you and him. "The next..." you take a deep breath and your brows pinch slightly. You don't want to get emotional. Just thinking about crying in front of him makes you anxious.
His eyes soften, slightly. The mood has shifted and you're tense. It's not how he thought this would go, but he's going to try and make it better anyway. This is it. You have to reconcile by the end of the day.
He pats the spot next to him on the bed, successfully bringing you closer, even if you were off from where he wanted you.
"What we did was hard," you start, again. "You think I didn't miss you as soon as you left home? Or that I was living happily without you, when I didn't answer your messages or calls?" You shake your head. You're trying to hold back your more distracting emotions, but your eyes are starting to feel watery. "No. My head hurt for so long, I didn't want to see anybody, and the worst part was that I couldn't stop thinking of you. It was the epitome of a crushing break up... and I needed you, but I wasn't sure if you would be around. It's what tore us apart in the first place."
Silence fills the room. You feel dumb for spilling your heart out like that. You fold your hands in your lap and hope Toji has something to say in response to your word vomit. Anything, at this point, to slaughter the increasingly, discomforting stillness in the room that is making you want to cry even more.
"I didn't know you missed me, 'til you started meeting me here." He turns his head to look at you. You're still looking down at your lap, fidgeting with your folded hands.
"Yeah, that's not something you say to someone who just became your ex. It would have made things harder on us."
There's another gap of silence while Toji calculates his words. Watching you continue your anxious mannerisms always made him nervous before. It's no different now.
"What if I said I have time for you, now?" He keeps his eyes on you, hoping to see a glint of light in your expression. "Things can go back to the way they were before."
"That sounds good and all, but will things stay that way when we start getting comfortable again? Say... a month from now?" He immediately nods in response. "How about three months from now? My days off are always gonna be the same, and yours-"
"I'll mute Shiu on your days off. No jobs on those days."
You look at him, unfolding your hands. You're not as nervous anymore, now that the talking is back and forth. "You always make exceptions. You've done it before, Toji, and I just don't want to feel second to your work, again. It's the only thing I kept myself out of when it came to you, because I know how... abnormal it is, and look where that got us."
"Listen, i'm serious about making time for you. I've been doing pretty good so far, don't you think?"
He has been. Otherwise you'd be spending your day off cleaning your place and figuring out what to make for your dinner for one. You were off the day before, too, and he called you halfway through the day, on his way back to his room.
"Yeah. I guess you are doing a lot better," you admit.
"Good enough to give it another go?"
You're the one who goes quiet this time, uncertainty coursing through your mind. You really want things to work, but it's scary. Words and these little check ins are all you can go off of, for now. You don't know how it'll be if you officially get back together.
You nod. "I think so. It's been a few months, now. Things do seem better."
He slowly released the breath he held in after asking the question. "Really? You mean that?"
"I do." You give him a soft smile that he feels he hasn't seen in so long. He can feel his heart accelerating, like a kid being returned their favorite toy after being grounded.
"Can you show me you mean it?"
"How?"
"You're sitting so far from me. Come closer," he says, patting his thigh.
"What?" You laugh. He has to be joking. You're literally two feet away from him.
"Come on. Sit with me."
He doesn't seem to be letting go of this, so you scoot even closer to him. With the assistance of his hands on your hips, he uses them as leverage to lift you onto his lap, to bring you as close to him as he can. He looks you straight in the eyes, his green ones so brilliant and warm, you would think he's about to profess his love for you for the first time.
"You got me. What is it, Toji?" You're blushing due to the gesture, a reaction that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
In one swift movement, his face is buried in your chest, his bulky arms lowered to wrap around your waist. Your eyes slightly widen at the spontaneity of the gesture, instantly softening when he starts talking.
"I felt like I was going insane, mama. I didn't wanna go." He pauses, the warm scent of your perfume working to calm him down. The back of your shirt is tightly wound around his hands. You can feel cool air against the slivers of exposed skin—a contrast to the warmth of his breath on your chest—but you hold him close. "Let me come home or stay here, just don't stray from me."
The mood shifted, again. He felt small and vulnerable, but he needed you to understand that he had feelings about leaving, too. Had things gone the way he planned them in his head, he wouldn't be uttering his sentiments into your chest. You would be watching a movie together, while cuddling and kissing, and overall, making up for the deep affection that was missed during this period of separation, but you have a strange way of making him want to be entirely honest with you.
You cover him up while he clears his mind. This is between you and him. Nothing else matters when it's Toji rambling on about how you've ruined solitary life for him. He can't do it anymore and you're entirely to blame, because you put him on to your hugs and kisses, and you tell him all the things he needs to hear and sleeping is entirely possible with you. He's addicted to you, and it's not hurting anyone, so he can't find a reason to give you up.
You sat in that position for a few minutes. Silence returned, but instead of it being awkward and uncomfortable, it was entirely welcomed. Toji was so comfortable. He could have fallen asleep like that, but you shifted in his lap and pulled him out of his idle state. He was entirely at ease when he lifted his gaze to look at you. Your expression was gentle on his eyes, unspoken forgiveness so clear.
"Come home, tomorrow. No, today. I was thinking about how you're not packed and you still have things scattered. I can help you get it all-"
He cuts off your rambling with a kiss, then another, and then one more. "Nah, i'll come back for my things, tomorrow. I just wanna go home with you, ma."
2K notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 6 months ago
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pretty in pink | logan howlett
an: this comes straight from my delusional mind
dad!logan (you can choose if you want this to be an old man logan fic!!)
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All week your daughter, Ada, had been reminding everyone about her sixth birthday that was coming up. She made sure you and Logan marked it on every calendar in the house. During dinner, all she talked about was her pink princess themed party.
“And the cake has to be pink!” She said for the hundredth time. She sat in her chair at the table completely forgetting she was supposed to be eating her spaghetti.
“We know, Ada. You told us everyday before and after school.” Logan said.
“I told the girls in my class to come too. They said they wouldn’t come because we’re freaks.” Her excitement about the party died down.
Laura, now a teenager, gave her sister an encouraging smile. “They’re the freaks. You’re the coolest girl in school. That means we get to have all the cake.” That earned a laugh from Ada. Logan chuckled, it warmed his heart to see his daughter’s bond.
“Your party is going to be the best, my love,” You stood up and grabbed your and Logan’s plate that were now empty. “Finish up and then get ready for bed, both of you.” You walked to the kitchen sink and began to wash the dishes.
Laura immediately challenged Ada to see who could finish their spaghetti first. After a scolding from their parents, Laura let Ada win. Soon, the sisters raced upstairs to get ready for bed.
As you and Logan finished cleaning, you couldn’t help but think about your little girl. Your sweet innocent little girl didn’t deserve to be called a freak. Your thoughts were interrupted when a car pulled up to your driveway. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.
“Stay here.” Logan said to you after he wiped his hands on a dish rag. He walked out the door ready to confront whoever it was. The car’s headlights were blinding him, but once he heard the familiar voice call his name, he put away his claws.
Inside you were still wondering who it was. Before you could join Logan outside, Ada had run down the stairs already in her princess pajamas.
“Mommy, who’s outside?” She asked you. Her question was answered when Logan walked in with Rogue by his side. Ada screamed in excitement when she saw her other sister. “You’re here! You’re here!” The little girl ran to Rogue and gave her a welcoming hug.
“I wouldn’t want to miss your princess party.” Rogue picked up the girl.
“Are you going to sleep in my room? Dad got some new books for me!”
“Oh you bet we’re going to stay up all night reading those books! I’ll be up in a few, let me talk to mom and dad for a sec,” Rogue set her down. The adults watched as Ada happily skipped up the stairs to her room. “Alright, what’s wrong?” She looked at you and Logan.
“What? Nothing wrong, why are you asking?” Logan asked surprised by her question.
Rogue knew she wasn’t going to get a straight answer from Logan so she looked at you. You sighed and told your daughter the truth. You were nervous about Ada’s party. A few of her classmates did tell her they were attending, but you were convinced they were only coming to make fun of her and ruin her big day.
“Those little shits ain’t going ruin my girl’s party.” Logan added.
“Honey, those little shits are first graders.” You corrected him.
“Little shits or not, Logan’s right. This is Ada’s party and she’s going to have the best damn princess party in the world.” Rogue declared. Before she left, she gave you and Logan a kiss on the cheek then walked up the stairs to Ada’s room.
Logan noticed that you still had a concerned look on your face. “Hey, Ada is going to be okay.”
“I just don’t want my little girl to get hurt.” You said.
“I won’t let anything or anyone hurt any of my girls.” Logan reminded you.
With that, you and Logan finished cleaning and went up to Laura’s room to say goodnight. As you reached Ada’s room, you saw her and Rogue already asleep. You quietly took the book out of Rogue’s hand and put it back on the bookshelf then adjusted the blanket over your daughters. You gave them both a goodnight kiss and left the room.
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In the morning, Ada was the first to wake up. She ran to yours and Logan’s room as fast as she could and jumped on to the bed screaming that it was her birthday. Logan groaned since she had landed on his stomach.
“Wake up! It’s my birthday!” She giggled as Logan sat up and brought her into his arms.
“How old are you today? Eighty? Ninety seven?” He watched as Ada’s smile dropped.
“No, that’s you!”
You were trying so hard to hold in your laugh, but failed. Logan playfully rolled his eyes. It was Ada’s day, he wasn’t going to get mad at her on her special day.
“Okay birthday girl, I believe your sisters promised a special birthday breakfast just for you.” Logan told Ada.
The now six year old gasped as soon as she heard ‘special breakfast’. She immediately jumped off the bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen where Laura and Rogue were making breakfast.
Logan sighed deeply and rolled over to his side, his eyes meeting yours. “Remember . . . Everything is going to be okay today.”
You hummed in response.
Eventually you and Logan joined the girls in the kitchen. Laura and Ada were throwing grapes into each others mouth while Rogue laughed at them failing miserably. Ada had thrown a grape so far from Laura that it hit Logan’s head when he walked in.
“Ada! You hit an elderly man!” Rogue teased.
“Kids.” Logan rolled his eyes yet again.
As a family you all sang happy birthday to Ada as Rogue placed a stack of pancakes topped with whipped cream and Ada’s favorite fruits. The little girl’s smile brought joy to her family.
“Wait, let me get the camera!” You ran to the cabinet that had random items inside. You grabbed the camera and snapped a couple of pictures of your girls and Logan.
It was a beautiful start to a beautiful day.
As the day went on, Rogue and Laura helped decorate the backyard with princess themed decorations. Ada was too busy running around in her pink princess dress to help. Logan was inside blowing up balloons until members of the x-men started showing up.
“Is that the big bad wolverine in a plastic tiara?” Scott Summers chuckled at the sight of Logan wearing a tiara that Ada had given him.
“Watch it, I don’t want you bleeding all over my daughter’s party when I—” Before Logan could finish, Ada joined them with more tiaras in hand. She gave one to every member telling them they couldn’t enter her party if they didn’t wear it.
And that’s how Scott Summers ended up with a plastic pink tiara on his head.
Ada was enjoying her party so far. A couple of classmates did end up attending. You saw as they played on the swing set that Logan had bought for Ada for her last birthday.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Logan said as he stood beside you.
“Hey,” you relaxed more when he was close to you. “Did you see the big box Storm brought for Ada? I bet it’s a big doll house.”
“You’re wrong. It’s definitely a large case of beer for me and you to enjoy when our girls are passed out.”
You chuckled. “After this, no more parties until next year.” You placed a kiss on his lips.
“Whatever you say . . .” He got another kiss in before Ada came running to you with a butterfly knife in hand and the biggest smile on her face.
“Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Wade got me a pretty knife!”
“Uncle Wade?!” “What the fuck!” You and Logan yelled at the same time.
“Hey mommy milf dearest! Peanut! Guess my invite got lost in the mail . . . again. I’m starting to think it’s on purpose. Harsh! Whatever, hey kids! Who wants to learn how to use this baby!” He held up his gun.
“Wade, No!”
1K notes · View notes
yieldtotemptation · 7 months ago
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DEALS ft. Miyeon
... is this thing on?
written as a very late addition to @i-am-lifeform24's project.
miyeon x male reader smut
2k words
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"Now that you're done with that," Miyeon starts, her voice firm, confident. The voice of someone used to giving you orders. "Take off your clothes."
The command hangs in the air between the two of you, and suddenly you’re under a microscope—but where most people would squirm, you stand tall.
"Okay."
"Okay?" If she was expecting a challenge, she wasn't going to find one here. After all this time, you know what she's looking for—what she expects from you—someone that can match her, that can meet her on her level. "No questions?"
"That is the deal," you answer matter-of-factly, your t-shirt already half-way over your head. "Money for my time, anything goes."
"Anything," she echoes, her usual stone-cold expression betrayed by a hint of excitement playing in her eyes, somewhat surprised that she managed to push the terms of a contract once made between two teenagers who didn't know any better into new territory.
Anything used to just mean silly tasks—cooking, cleaning, doing all the things that would absolutely not be suitable for her to do—but all just being an excuse for keeping Miyeon company.
That was until now.
Still, you don't have time to think about what’s changed between you fixing her sink and her watching you take off your pants—she’s decided that now is as appropriate an occasion as any to test your limits, and you’ve never been known not to oblige her.
It's only when you're stepping out of your briefs that you catch it—that break in her facade, the slight blush that creeps up her cheeks, that indication that maybe Miyeon isn't so far above the rest of Earth's mortals as she would like you to think.
"Having trouble finding somewhere to look?" You can feel her eyes following you, scanning up and down your body as you fold your clothes neatly, placing them on a corner of the nearby couch.
"The opposite." Whatever crack you just saw in Miyeon's composure is gone as quick as it arrived, and she's all business again, walking over to you, heels that let her meet your eyes clicking against the cold living room floor. "I don't have anywhere I don't want to look."
It's no secret that you feel the same—she's an absolute work of art. It's in the sway of her hips, the curve of her waist, the swell of her lovely, petite breasts under her sheer, near see-through shirt. But you're not here to just admire her. You're here to serve, to satisfy, to be of use.
She stops, close enough that her exhales become your inhales, close enough that the smell of whatever she's wearing—something smoky, something ludicrously expensive—drives you wild.
Close enough that when her eyes alone make you twitch, she feels it brush against her waist.
"Look at me."
Another demand obeyed—all part of the deal.
Maybe it's the light, maybe it's the proximity—her eyes are darker than you remember, a deep brown that would swallow you whole, if only you'd let them.
"Hands," she says next, and she's taking hold of your wrists, pulling them to her, to her body—her unfathomably-tight waist—squeezing down on your fingers to make sure she's locked in your grip. "Now kiss m-"
You're jumping the gun, pulling her closer to you, pulling her lips into yours, warming your tongue with hers, tasting sweetness, tasting her eagerness—or more correctly, her neediness.
She’s opening the door a little, letting you discover a part of her that she's been hiding from you, truly meeting her for the first time—her left hand finding the nape of your neck, her right reaching down below, wrapping fingers around you, holding you against her.
"Mmmph..." She's moaning into you now, her hands are on the move, feeling, stroking—soft, delicate fingers taking your full measure, all the way from the tip... all the way to the base.
It’s making you grow bigger for her, too big for her dainty grip, but she squeezes back against you, gliding her hand up and down, up and down, again and again—all for her pleasure, showing you that no matter how good she's making you feel, it's making her feel better.
That’s when you break the rules for the first time, taking the initiative and running your hands up her back to the lift up her shirt, wanting to catch just a glimpse of more of her flawless, porcelain-white skin. Before you can boldly make your move, she's pushing back against your chest with her free hand, releasing your lips and leaving you with a groan, halting you in your tracks.
"No," she whispers, her eyes darkening with something that isn't quite anger, but is definitely a warning. "Not yet."
A gulp and a nod is all you have for her in response, but it's enough to satisfy her—enough to return her lips to your body, to continue her excruciatingly delightful movements over your shaft.
Her breath is hot, heavy, as she plants kisses on your neck, your collarbone—tracing lines down your chest with her tongue, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Miyeon's eyes lock onto yours as she continues her expedition, watching you watch her work—watch her make you unravel.
Every movement is intentional—the lower her lips get, the slower her strokes, each more deliberate, each one a silent experiment of how much you can bear.
She takes her time, until at last, finally, she's on her knees before you—no longer stroking, no longer moving—just breathing on you, staring at you, frozen in fascination at your length—at what she's done to you.
And then she licks her perfect, pretty, pink lips.
"Miyeon-" is all you can muster, but it’s too late—she's taking you in—inhaling you—warm—fucking hot—lips wrapping around you, forcing you to hold your breath as she brings you deeper, deeper into her throat.
You had expected teasing, torture even—but not this—not her tongue sliding under your shaft, not her moans around your cock, not her eyes watering as she breathes you in, making a mess of you until her nose has met your chest and your tip has met the back of her throat.
It takes all your strength to keep your knees from buckling as she keeps you there, keeps you down her throat, testing herself against you. The pleasure is overwhelming, intense, but for the two of you it's the power play—she's the one looking up at you, her makeup smudged, eyeliner a disaster—yet she's in complete and total control, feeling your body tighten from just a flick of her tongue, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge.
"Gah-" she rises back up off you, unsheathing your cock from her throat, a glob of her spit following behind her, a glistening bridge from her lips to your tip. She's grinning wildly now, so fucking pleased with herself, so turned on by having conquered you—having conquered your cock. "I did it."
But you don't get to recover—how silly of you to think she would let you—and her lips are back on you, lightning shooting up your spine as she takes in half of you, before releasing—again and again and again.
She's bobbing up and down, putting on a show for you—letting you see how her cheeks hollow, how her lips take you in, how you make her eyes water and how her tongue does it’s best to break you—a masterful dance that somehow makes you feel both worshiped and utterly dominated.
"Mmmmm..." A flick of her tongue against your tip lets you know that she's tasting you, tasting the warm pre-cum leaking past her lips. "I fucking knew it," she murmurs, her voice low, but loud enough for you to hear. "Knew that you would be this big—knew that I could take whatever you had."
"God, Miyeon—" you eke out a groan as she starts to stroke you again, keeping up the pace, keeping up the pleasure.
"Knew that you would taste this good—knew that it would feel this fucking good in my throat."
She doesn't wait for an answer—doesn't need one—her tongue is already back on you, painting your cock with her saliva, up and down, around and around.
It's her moans around you—she's loving this, loving doing this to you—so much so that she doesn't even mind it when you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on her more forcefully than you intended, desperately pushing more of yourself into her. She takes it, welcomes it, confident that if it came down to it, she would be the last one standing.
You still try—stopping her head still and start to move—start to pound away. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away, not even when you pick up speed, not even when her moans get muffled and you're hitting the back of her mouth, not even when you're the one setting the pace and burying your cock down her hot, tight throat.
It's in her eyes—the challenge, the suggestion—use me, break me if you can—cum—give it to me.
Her hands are on your hips, beckoning you, pushing you to go faster, to fuck her face harder—encouraging you, egging you on. And so you do—you give in to the instinct that's been burning in your veins since she first made you strip for her—you fuck her mouth, her throat, ruin that gorgeous, fucking irresistible face as she struggles to keep up.
Tears are streaming down her eyes now, her breaths coming in ragged gasps around you, but she never looks away—her gaze holding yours, telling you that she's okay, that she wants this—that she can take this.
You shouldn't be fucking her face this hard—it shouldn't be possible to—but you keep going, groaning—"Miyeon", "fuck", "God"—and just when you're about to slip, just when you're about to completely fall apart in her mouth, she forces herself off you, seizing back control and holding you at your base, aiming directly at her picture-perfect visage.
"Cum for me," she squeezes you, wringing you, wanting you. "Do it."
You throb, you explode, you cum, you obey—because that's what she’s asking of you.
It takes every effort to keep your eyes open—to see Miyeon—as you feel the orgasm ripping through your body, the heat spilling from you and onto her face, her chin, her neck—onto a carefully manicured eyebrow, and an undeniably cute dimple. Your cum showers her, paints her, masking her with your release.
And Miyeon takes it, takes all of it, eagerly, smiling up at you through the mess, poking out a tongue to taste as much of you as she can, despite it still overflowing and dribbling down the corners of her mouth.
You shake, you want to collapse, but Miyeon keeps her hold on you, looking up at you like you're her fucking property—and maybe in this moment, you are. Her eyes are glazed over, her cheeks are flushed, and through the cum you can see that devastating smile as she swallows and drinks what remains of you down.
"So fucking good," she whispers, her hand still moving, still stroking you, placing soft, sweet kisses on your exhausted cock, still sending those tingles of pleasure shooting through you. "I knew you would be amazing."
"Fuck, Miyeon."
But she's already rising, on her feet and looking at you expectantly, wiping the excess from her chin with the back of her hand. "I want more," she states. It’s simple. It’s a command. "Take me to the bedroom."
And she's already walking away, peeling off her clothes, soft fabric meeting the floor as you catch a sight of the lovely slope of her back, the perfect curve of her ass—her body bared before you, calling for you to take it.
“Come on,” she calls out to you, “we’re just getting started.”
You stumble forward, following after her—obeying her wishes.
Because why wouldn't you?
That was your deal.
---
A/N: thanks again to @i-am-lifeform24 for actually managing to get me to finish something. what a legend.
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lemonlover1110 · 9 months ago
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can we get Toji reacting to reader's pregnancy
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Ever since finding out that you’re eating for two, you’ve found yourself distressed. Not because this isn’t something that you were planning– Well partially because of that, but mainly because you don’t know what your boyfriend thinks of having more kids. You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re expecting.
You don’t know how you’ve never had this conversation before, especially since you’ve started to talk about getting married. You know that he has a teenager, and probably he’s done with that part of his life. You also know that you’d be delighted to have kids, but if Toji wouldn’t want to have a child, you’re okay with that too. Your pregnancy changes everything though.
“Aren’t you two here early?” You ask, staring at the front door as Megumi and Toji walk in. Toji has a frown in his face while Megumi walks ahead, not a care in the world. You notice a stain on his school uniform and you tell him, “Put it in the washer, I’ll take care of it, Megs.”
“No, he can deal with the consequences of his actions in his little vacation.” Toji quickly speaks up, making you cock an eyebrow. You look back and forth between Toji and Megumi, hoping someone is going to fill you in. “Go to your room, Megumi. I can’t stand to look at your face anymore.”
“What happened?” You direct your attention to your husband since Megumi listens to his father and goes to his room. Toji sighs, walking over to you and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t tell me he–”
“Got into a fight. Got called in the middle of work to deal with his ass– Hey, at least he won.” Toji can’t help but chuckle because even though he’s mad, part of him still feels oddly proud. His kid is somewhat of a troublemaker, but hey, at least the kid can fight. He says something that makes the thoughts of worry that you pushed to the back of your mind, come back and even stronger. “Just glad I don’t have to deal with this much longer.”
“Right.” You awkwardly laugh. You follow Toji to your living room, and take a seat beside him on your couch. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, you do this all the time, but Toji immediately knows that something is off. Your face wastes no time in telling on you.
“You okay? You look a little off.” Toji comments, throwing his arm over you and bringing you closer to him. You’re a little far today when you’re usually all over him. The man loves his personal space, but not when it comes to you. 
“Weird day… Weird week.” You mutter the last part, but Toji hears it loud and clear. He kisses the top of your head before asking,
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He proceeds to kiss the top of your head, and you bite down your lip. You have to tell him eventually, and you know that maybe this isn’t the right time to tell him, but he senses something is up.
“What do you think about having kids with me?” You speak a little fast, and if he wasn’t listening closely, he would have to ask you to repeat yourself. Toji takes a moment to think about it, acting perplexed. His silence is killing you and just when you’re about to repeat the question, he speaks up.
“Is this about the pregnancy test I found in the bathroom?” Toji mentions, and your eyes go wide. He’s known? He’s known all this time? He ends up kissing the tip of your nose before pecking your lips, “I’m happy with anything as long as I get to do it with you.”
“What about the comment that you made–” You begin and he interrupts you. 
“Was about Megumi, I’m making sure this one isn’t a troublemaker.” Toji clarifies as his hand goes to your lower abdomen. “I’m excited about this. I was wondering how long it’d take you to share.”
“Next time, speak up, I was scaring myself to death.” You lightly slap his chest, and he chuckles. You’re glaring at him, while he smirks at you. “You’re in so much trouble right now. Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
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littlexdeaths · 10 months ago
Text
i called her on the phone and she touched herself - e.m.
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ghostface eddie munson x fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: voyerism, mutual masturbation, phone sex, eddie’s a perv but we’re into it, alluding to a knife kink, lots of scream references
i ended up taking a look at this fic today and making some little tweaks and i love it so much more now. this is another repost from my old account but i promise new content will be coming soon. enjoy xx.
word count: 1.5k
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The phone rings, loud and shrill in your ear.
It sound causes you to flinch in surprise, heart thudding in your chest when you reach for the receiver. The cheesy horror movie playing on your small tv set now forgotten as you pick up the phone.
“Hello?” Your voice sounds a little breathless, a deep chuckle resounding in your ear.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
The voice on the other end was husky, smooth yet confident.
“Who is this?” You feign a bored tone, your thighs squeezing together unintentionally.
You’d never been so attracted to someone’s voice before— and he’d only spoken two words to you. But something about it felt oddly… familiar.
“Were you expecting a call from someone?” The male asks and you shift slightly to glance at your bedside clock. 8:43 PM.
Steve would still be working at the video store, or he was supposed to be. Unless he decided to prank call you during a lull in customers. Which could very well be a possibility.
“Maybe… why do you wanna know?” Your tone is overly flirty as you decide to play along.
The call now much more exciting than the movie playing out on your tv screen.
You’d never take a suggestion from Keith ever again.
“Hm, a pretty girl like you must be waiting on a call from a boyfriend?”
You can’t help but laugh at that notion, serious relationships weren’t your thing. Despite how attractive and persistent Steve was, a relationship is the last thing you wanted to tangle yourself in right now.
But he clearly was still trying too hard.
You breathe out a heavy sigh, “Nope, no boyfriend.”
Despite being a usually observant person, you still weren’t aware of the eyes trained on your half naked figure. The dark cloaked figure watching from the tree that faced your bedroom window.
“Mm, lucky me then.”
You glance back at the screen when the music begins to swell, hinting that one of the teenagers would be killed off at any moment. A loud scream fills the room as the killer takes one of the camp counselor by surprise.
“What’s that sound?” He asks, unable to see the television from his vantage point.
“Oh, just a movie.”
The male hums deeply, the sound causes you to squirm against your bedsheets. Heat pools in your lower belly and you mindlessly let your fingertips dance along the edge of your lace panties.
“What kind of movie?” He probes, his dark eyes now drawn to the silky skin of your thighs.
You begin shifting, lying back fully against your pillows. You rest the receiver between your ear and shoulder as you spread your legs open. Unintentionally giving him the perfect view as you dip your fingers past the flimsy material. The sight causes his cock to stir beneath his dark jeans.
“A scary one,” you reply, despite this being the least scary thing you’ve ever seen.
Eddie grins beneath the white ghostface mask, sheathing his blade before he reaches for the zipper on his pants. He tugs them down to free his hardened cock, pulling his mouth away from the phone to spit into the palm of his hand. The male wrapping it around his thick length whilst your fingers begin to circle over your clit.
While the brunette had come here with the intention to scare you… this turn of events was far more interesting.
“Oh, you like scary movies?”
He grins, enjoying how your voice seems to shake over the line, but not for the reason he initially expected.
“Y-Yes…”
Only pleasure laces your tone.
Eddie inhales deeply, watching as you twirl your fingers around the phone cord with your other hand. The light of the television illuminates your body with an almost ethereal like glow.
“Hmm, tell me… what’s your favorite scary movie, sweetheart?”
Your breath hitches in your throat, now shoving your soaked underwear completely down your thighs. You kick them off the edge of your bed before dipping a finger inside yourself. You chew on your lower lip to hold back a moan you so desperately wanted to let escape, eagerly slipping another digit inside.
This wasn’t the first time you’d touched yourself like this with Steve on the other end of the phone, but this was by far the most exciting.
Little did you know the male on the other end was definitely not Steve Harrington.
Dropping the twisted cord you grip the receiver in your unoccupied hand, eyes fluttering shut when you begin pumping your fingers even deeper inside yourself. Letting your thumb brush over your swollen clit as you curl your fingers up.
“Halloween,” you breathe, a low grunt sounds on the other end of the line as the male strokes his cock in tandem with each thrust of your fingers. The slick sounds reverberate softly through the receiver.
“Is that the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around stalking babysitters?” He asks, despite already knowing the answer himself.
A soft ‘mhm’ leaves you as you revel in his throaty moans.
“I liked that one… it was scary.” His voice drops an octave, Eddie unintentionally slipping into his dungeon master voice.
Keeping the cell phone tucked into his shoulder as he adjusts himself between the tree branches. Increasing the pace of his fist as he continues to watch you pleasure yourself through your window.
The movie playing out on your tv screen is now long forgotten as his deep voice is the only thing you can focus on.
“I like that thing you’re doing with your voice, Steve. It’s sexy.” You whimper, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of bliss. No longer able to keep up the oblivious act anymore.
Eddie chuckles darkly, sending a shiver up your spine. “Oh sweetheart, this isn’t Steve.”
As much as those words should frighten you, it only seems to increase the tightening in your lower belly. The jealous edge to them causes a high pitched whine to leave your lips, pumping your fingers even faster into your dripping heat. Increasing the pressure on your clit, as the male’s deep moans fill your ears.
“God you little slut, you gonna cum f’me?” He growls, feeling his own orgasm drawing near.
His cock twitches in his rough palm as he observes your lower half lifting up off the mattress. Thighs trembling as your orgasm washes over you, milky white spilling over onto his ringed fingers.
Heavy breathing is all that is passed back and forth between the two of you for a moment, your body falling limp against the mattress.
“Fuck, you look so pretty when you cum, baby…” while it was whispered into the phone, you still heard it.
You recognized the husky voice instantly— the pretty but rugged metalhead who always gave you a discount on your weed.
Eddie Munson.
Your eyes instantly snap open, dropping the phone as you sit up. Letting your fingers slip from your drenched core as you rise to your feet. Padding over to your bedroom window and gazing out into the dark night.
You catch sight of a white ghostface mask in between the branches opposite your window. Your eyes meet as you reach back over for the phone, your juices smearing over the handle as you grab onto it. Amusement dances over your features as you tilt your head at him.
“Do you spy on all the girls you deal to, Munson?” You pause, clearly catching the male off guard, “Or am I a special case?”
Eddie doubles back, stuttering out a reply while he attempts to disguise his voice once more but it was too late— you caught him.
“I promise this isn’t what it seems, sweetheart.”
A small giggle leaves your lips as he fumbles his way down from the tree, removing the mask so he can see properly. His bangs stick to his forehead, pale skin flushed pink under the bright moonlight.
He drops the phone and his knife in his haste, the glint of the blade catches your attention. The way the sharp metal reflects in the light makes your heart race, arousal coursing through your veins. You lick your lips when he picks up the discarded items, his brown eyes meeting yours through the glass.
“I think I know why you came here, Munson…” you hum into the receiver once he returns the phone to his ear, your sultry tone causing his cock to stir in his jeans again.
“Why’s that, sweet thing?” He bites back, his dark eyes not leaving your silhouette.
“Someone wants to play psycho killer… but it looks like you need a helpless victim.”
You lean your forearms on your windowsill, noticing the way his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows down a moan. His ringed fingers grip tightly onto the handle of the blade, the male now desperately hanging onto your every word.
“And I’m more than happy to oblige.”
Eddie curses, your words going straight to his now throbbing cock. There was no way he was passing you up on this offer.
“Now… tell me Mr. Ghostface, what do you want?” You feign a frightened tone as you pose the question.
His shallow breaths mingle with the static on the line, anticipation bubbling up inside you.
“I wanna know what your insides feel like.” He groans, his words sending heat straight between your legs.
You squirm when you watch him slide the mask down over his face, glancing back up at you with an almost predatory look.
“Come and find out then, freak.”
Click.
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meazalykov · 9 days ago
Text
going on a bicycle ride
barcelona femeni x teen!reader
you score the best debut goal that barcelona has seen in a while
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you step onto the pitch, your heart is racing a million times per hour. 
the stadium screams around you, fans chanting, and your teammates are giving each other reassuring nods and pats. 
for you, it's your first champions league season, your first taste of this whole thing. you're not a starter yet, but you're here. you belong. at least, that's what you're trying to tell yourself.  
the last time barcelona played manchester city, it was a nightmare…a nightmare you’re glad you weren’t on the pitch for. now, weeks of training and preparation have brought the team here, ready to redeem themselves. 
you’ve spent hours with the team rewatching game footage, dissecting every movement, every play. of course you did not play for that game in manchester, but you have been waiting for a moment to prove yourself, to show your new team that you’re not just here to fill space or warm a bench.  
you warm up along the sideline, stealing glances at the match. it’s tense, fast-paced, and physical. manchester city presses hard, and the score sits at 1-1. thanks to vivianne at manchester and claudia. 
when you hear pere call your name, you realize that your moment is finally happening.  
your stomach twists with nerves and excitement as you pull off your warm-up top. ellie, ever her kindest self, gives you an encouraging pat on the back before you jog to the sideline, the assistant referee holding up the board.  
you step on in the 71st minute, the floodlights beaming down as you come in for patri. you position yourself in the midfield, eyes scanning the field, soaking what is currently going on. 
the minutes tick by, and the pressure seems to grow stronger. city’s defenders are relentless, blocking passes, cutting off runs. you feel the weight of the crowd’s expectation, their energy surging through you.  
suddenly.. in the 80th minute… caroline picks up the ball on the right wing, her pace and control mesmerizing as she pushes past a defender. you’re just outside the box, hovering in space, looking for an opening. 
laia, one of city’s center-backs, keeps her eye on you, shadowing your every move. you adjust your positioning, trying to shake her, but she’s relentless as her arms stay on yours.  
caroline sends a cross into the box, and everything slows. the ball arcs perfectly, spinning toward you. instinct takes over. you turn, positioning your body, push laia slightly so she could not block.. and leap. the crowd gasps.  
your legs kick out, and the connection is perfect. the ball rockets toward the goal, slicing through the air with power and precision. 
the manchester keeper, keating, barely moves, frozen as the ball crashes into the back of the net.  
the stadium erupts. for a moment, you’re frozen in disbelief, staring at the net before the realization hits you. 
you did it.  
taking off toward the corner, arms raised high, adrenaline flooding your veins. kika is the first to reach you, jumping onto your back, her arms around your shoulders as the rest of the team rushes to celebrate.  
"are you kidding me?!" she shouts, her voice full of excitement.  
you laugh, overwhelmed, as alexia, aitana, and the others surround you, hugging you, screaming in celebration. they can’t stop thinking about the goal, about how high you got, how incredible the bicycle kick was.  
you glance at the scoreboard. 
2-1 barcelona. your goal.  
rest of the match is a blur. the final whistle blows, and the victory is yours. top of the table in the champions league group.. your teammates pull you into another round of hugs, their joy contagious.  
in the locker room after the match, everyone is happy. esmee won’t stop teasing you about your goal, saying it’s the best debut she’s ever seen. alexia hugs you, her posture calm but warm. 
you're a teenager, younger than vicky even... in your first season with barcelona, but tonight you proved something… not to them since they already knew… but to yourself. 
you belong here.
masterlist
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