#every single night isn’t good enough for you????

[keepingitformyself]

especially for tender ones like us

A/N: hehehehehehehehehehehehe synopsis: humor, anxiety, and the salvation of love.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: no?

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha tries not to stumble over her words when she suggests staying in, instead of going out. she does not mean to, but she does. 

how could she not? could you really blame her for wanting a quiet night? something that isn’t so public. she wanted to see you, of course, but she wanted to see you in a space you could be comfortable in, without any of the outside world and free from any distractions.  

you listen intently through the other line, you fight the giggle at catching her little stutter. she can’t see, but you smile widely at the whole thing.

“yeah, we can stay in. i can cook us dinner,” you nod. natasha’s shoulders drop in a quiet sense of relief at your words. her lips curl into a smile. “i’d like that. i can’t wait.”

although this would only be the fourth time you had met up together, to natasha, it felt like the first every single time. 

you continue talking for a little while more. natasha shares details about her day, work, and what she ate during lunch. she tells you how on her way to grab her usual coffee order, an americano, she decided she’d switch her order to a matcha latte after having had you recommend it to her. she tells you, 

“it was good, but not nearly enough caffeine for me to keep up with,” she said, her tone light but teasing. and while it hadn’t become her new favorite drink, just knowing she’d tried it for you was more than enough. her words sent your thoughts spiraling, a warmth blooming in your chest. you were certain that if she were standing next to you, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss her right then and there.

but you can’t do that so instead, you just fall back on your bed like a high schooler talking to her crush. 

when you finally do meet up the following evening, natasha is buzzing with nerves she doesn't understand. she has taken down whole regimes and has fought aliens from space, yet she seems to draw the line when it comes to facing you. 

she knocks on your door, her other arm clutching a brown bag containing wine and flowers. a reasonable offering if you’re having dinner with someone you want to impress. 

when you answer the door, you're wearing a cream-colored knit sweater. 

“i thought i heard pacing out there.” you joke. 

natasha’s cheeks flush as she tries—and ultimately fails—to fight the smile tugging at her lips. “i wasn’t pacing,” she says, though the slight crack in her voice gives her away.

you step aside and invite her in, and neither of you acknowledges the quiet intimacy of the moment. it feels like more than just dinner, more than just a simple evening in your apartment.

you’re about to cook for her, and somehow, that feels monumental.

natasha’s nerves are a mess, though she can’t quite figure out why—or maybe she can. maybe it’s the way your presence makes her feel unsteady, as though the ground beneath her shifts whenever you’re near.

but natasha doesn’t want to be nervous.

she saw once—a penguin mistaking a sleeping walrus for a rock. the penguin had been caught completely off guard when the walrus stirred, nearly crushing it before it scurried away just in time.

natasha had found it funny at the time, the way surprises can sneak up on you. but now, thinking about it, it doesn’t feel so funny. it feels… unnerving.

surprises are bad for the heart, she thinks. she’s been taught her whole life to avoid them, to anticipate every possibility before it unfolds.

but knowing too much, being too prepared—that can hurt, too.

her thoughts are interrupted by your laughter, light and unburdened, as you guide her toward the kitchen. your smile is so easy, so genuine, and she can’t help but feel how good it is to exist in this space with you.

she offers to help you cook, but you shoo her away instead. you make her watch.

she sits there, with her hands on her lap, and just stares. and she can’t help the look of longing on her face. the kind of thing that suggests she wouldn’t mind this being a constant. 

you made pasta for the evening. nothing too spectacular, but natasha had treated it like you were a top chef and had spent hours crafting everything with your bare hands. 

and then once you’ve plated food for you both and you’ve gotten down to a few bites, you notice the small sigh natasha lets out. the flutter of her eyes as she takes in the meal. 

you smile at her reaction as you move some of the food with your fork. 

“do you like it?”

she looks at you, mid-chew, her mouth stuffed with the food, but she manages a smile. 

“yeah, uh, yes it’s good. it’s so good,” she says, hand over her mouth. 

you continue eating, talking about everything and anything. the night was filled with small moments that would bleed into much deeper ones. you laughed, she smiled, you smiled, she laughed. the kind of things one feels they become when around those who make you tender. 

and you don’t know how or when but you try not to notice how little by little natasha seems to retract a little. 

you decide maybe she needs a small moment for herself and start cleaning up the table. she offers to help, but you wave her off, insisting she relaxes. 

she tries to, but realistically, natasha doesn’t know how to relax. so she sits back and stares at you like she isn’t sure what to do with herself. she isn’t used to this at all. spaces like this–warm, cozy, comfortable.

the impending guilt comes. it’s all so layered. she feels so much at once. the nervousness, the anxiety, the fear of loss, the fear of not being present enough. 

natasha doesn’t know how to be here without sacrificing so much. 

after a while, natasha speaks up. 

“i should probably get going.” her voice too casual to sound like she meant it. she tries not to notice the look of disappointment on your face when you turn around to face her. 

“you don’t have to.” you find yourself saying, not wanting her to leave. 

she hums, something that says she’s already made up her mind. she gets up and gathers her things. 

you follow her to the door, or at least try to—but you pause at the end of the hall when you see her linger near the door, uncomfortably. unsure if she should leave. 

you call her out on it. “you can stay longer if you want.”

natasha wrestles with herself because she really wants to. she looks at the door as if it’d answer for her. 

you’re letting her know. 

natasha feels awkward, clammy hands. she doesn't know what she’s doing. and it’s hard to think of anything else when your eyes are screaming, don't actually leave, at her. 

you look at her carefully, trying to see if you can find any clear indication of what she may be feeling, but it isn’t hard to figure out the redhead in front of you. 

you’ve noted quite quickly how easy it comes for her walls to lower when you’re around. and if there’s anything you’ve learned from that, it’s that natasha romanoff isn’t the trained killer everyone thinks she is. 

sure we all have certain versions we show to certain people. but the natasha you know is anything but rough-edged. the natasha you’ve come to know is actually quite the opposite of what everyone else perceives. 

she’s tender, in her own silent way. too afraid to ever let too much slip away that she’s so painfully aware of everything around her. 

natasha is tenderness wrapped in quiet strength, a paradox of someone who feels deeply but guards herself fiercely. she sees the world clearly—the beauty and the harm—and carries that weight like a constant ache.

like she knows the world hurts more for those most aware of hurt. 

her tenderness isn’t soft; it’s sharp, vigilant, always bracing for the pain that comes with letting others in. you can see it in the flicker of her gaze, the way she hesitates as if expecting the world to hurt her.

and yet, she doesn’t harden. she holds onto that fragile, open part of herself, even when it would be easier not to. it’s beautiful and a little heartbreaking.

natasha looks up at you, then back down at her hands. just above a whisper, she says, 

“i don't know what i’m doing.” 

“that’s the most fun part.” you joke. she smiles, she doesn’t know how to say she wants more time. 

how could she say she feels greedy at this moment? she wants to protect being here with you. we have such little time, she thinks. 

bashfully, she steps closer to you, “i don't want to go.” she says. 

“then don’t.” and natasha almost complies. instead, she takes a step closer, her hand lifting towards your cheek. she’s so close now. 

she kisses you, soft, and shy, but you make her feel sure when your arm circles her neck, deepening the kiss altogether. when she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours, she lets out a shaky breath. 

“maybe i’ll forget my scarf,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“please do,” you replied. please leave your scarf, please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of leaving. please always come back. “that way you’ll have to come back later for it.”  

and just like that, her quiet uncertainty washes away. 

she takes her scarf off and drops it near the door. you follow her actions, you smile, amusement in your eyes. 

later that night, when natasha gets home, she texts you. 

i forgot my scarf. 

you reply, you’ll have to come get it then. 

[smallgodseries]

Sometimes education isn’t enough.  Sometimes you can study and study and try and try, and never quite cross the last bridge between where you are and your heart’s desire.

Sometimes you need to tell the perfect little lie to get there.

Once upon a time there was a small god of goldfinches named Yucan who wanted nothing more in the world than to be a god of toucans, to manifest himself as a big, beautiful, tropical bird that people would stop to ooo and ahh over when they saw it in the trees, something impressive.  It was a good thing to be a god of songbirds.  There weren’t as many of them as there had been before cats became quite so popular as house pets, and the ones remaining needed all the divine intervention they could get their wings on.  He appreciated their attention and their worship, but he wanted, so very badly, to be more than his nature was allowing him to be.

So he hatched, over the course of several slow decades, a plan, and one night, with no warning whatsoever, his faithful woke and found him gone.  He had abandoned his divine duties, flown the coop, left the nest, and no one could find a single feather left behind!  All the little birdies were distraught…but not for very long, as little birdies have short memories, and there were other gods of songbirds around to serve.  If it wasn’t quite the same, well, nothing ever is, not even following the same god from one day to another.  They adjusted.  They adapted.

And far away, a very small god with a very big dream put his plans into action. He donned a false face, he told everyone who met him that he was the god of endangered tropical birds, and if no one had ever seen him before, well, some of those birds were very endangered.  Deforestation and poaching, don’cha know?  So many dangers to evade.  So many fledglings to protect.  So he lied, and lied, and pretended, and did his best to live up to his own lies.  He protected those who came to him, he spread his wings over the nests of species unknown to science, and he tried, and he lied, and he tried.

Until one day, the mask would not come off when he went to go to nest.  One day, he noticed that his wingspan was greater, and he no longer heard the prayers of songbirds, but of the birds he had claimed…and of more than them. Of frightened high school drama students and would-be figure skaters, of novice computer programmers and new-made lawyers.

They had their own lies to tell.

And Yucan Tu would be with them every step along the way, singing goldfinch songs in their ears and spreading his wings to defend them from the risks of their own actions.

He is a god of falsehood, yes, but also of sincerity, and of effort.

[xoxxbilliexoxx]

Fight me or Fuck me

WLW Enemies to Lovers Smut

Your roommate brings out such an intense anger in you, hating every single thing she does or says. It isn’t until she walks in on you masterbating that things change rapidly. ✂️✂️

You had always hated her. Every single thing that she did drove you fucking crazy. Layla was just one of the five girls that lived in your college house. You didn’t know her well when she moved in- she was just a friend of one of your other roommates who needed a place to live and your house happened to have an empty bedroom. At first you didn’t mind her, you guys didn’t really talk, just seeing each other in the mornings before class and at the end of the day when she wasn’t staying at her girlfriends house. It wasn’t until they broke up that you had to start seeing her all the time, and that's when you realized just how much she pissed you off. There wasn’t even a specific reason you didn’t like her, it just felt like everything she said or did made you want to rip your hair out, or better yet her hair out.

Tonight was no different, you and some of the girls were in the kitchen listening to your favorite music and goofing off. On the freshly cleaned island sat 4 glasses of wine, a celebration of another week of school being finished. You had all decided you would have a chill Friday night before a big party on saturday. When the front door opened and you saw Layla's long dark hair as she shut the door behind her, you immediately felt annoyed. Just her presence alone kills your vibe. The other girls had no problem with her at all, they all called out her name as she came into the kitchen. “Woah Layla, who you lookin so hot for tonight” your roommate called out, eyeing her up and down and whistling. Layla giggled and did a spin, showing off her whole outfit. You couldn’t help but agree, her outfit complemented her body perfectly. Her tight black long sleeve shirt hugged her curves perfectly, and her low waisted super baggy jeans sat on her waist in just the right spot. The massive holes in her jeans showed off the fishnets she had underneath and though her pants were almost too long for her, you could see her doc martins just enough. The fact that she had such good style almost pissed you off more. Everyone around her was always complimenting her appearance and the way she accepted them was always so cocky. “No one but myself bitch” Layla said, finally answering your roommates question and finishing it off with a wink.

You picked up your wine glass and took a big swig, needing something to take the edge off of the bitterness she brought out of you. “Oh shit we drinking wine tonight?” Layla loudly questioned, before turning to the cabinet directly behind you to grab a glass for herself. As she walked towards you, you saw a close up of her makeup. Her eyeliner so neatly wrapped around the entirety of her eyes, boldly making the green of her irises pop. Her mascara showed off just how long her eyelashes were and her lipstick was the perfect light pink to even out the darkness of the rest of her outfit. It’s so frustrating how beautiful she is, god you wished she wasn’t. Her pin straight long black hair hit you in the face as she turned back around and oh you so badly wanted to push her away but you chose to cuss her out in your head instead. Being such a non confrontational person only made your hatred for her bottle up, sometimes feeling like it was going to explode.

It was clear Layla didn’t like you either. One day when she was facetiming her friends you could hear her loudly as she said she liked ‘most of her roommates’. When all of you were in a room together, she would never directly speak to you, pretty much avoiding eye contact as well. You had a few friendly conversations here and there, mostly talking shit about your least favorite music theory professor, but even then it was obvious you both were forcing it. But nothing pissed you off more than when you were playing your acoustic guitar and Layla turned on her amp and began practicing her electric guitar, making it literally impossible for you to continue. She does it every single damn time.

When she noticed her hair had flown into your face, Layla didn’t say sorry, she just threw you a smirk and walked away. She pulled the bottle of wine out of the fridge and without asking anyone if they’d like anymore, she poured the rest of it in her glass and sat down. That was the last straw for the evening; You couldn’t be around her any longer. You walked to the pantry and grabbed the new wine bottle you had bought the day before, and began to head to your room, “I’m calling it a night early guys sorryyyyyy. I need my me time before the fun ass night we are about to have tomorrow” you announce with a sweet smile before continuing to your room. “Me time as in a bottle of wine and your rose toy?” your best friend yells back to you laughing. You lift the wine glass above your head as you shout back at her, “you know it babyyyy”

About two hours had passed in your room and you had accidentally finished the entire bottle of wine. You heard things quieting down in the kitchen and knew that everyone was probably heading to their own rooms for the night. Your room was lit up by your fairy lights and salt lamp, creating a beautiful orangy pink hue. You had your overhead fan on, not only cooling off the air, but also creating a soft hum to play in the background. A ‘Me time’ night is your favorite type of night, you strip down to your favorite matching underwear and bralette set, put on your favorite lotion, one that smells like the perfect mix of masculine and feminine, like flowers and musk. You lay in your bed, usually with a brand new set of sheets and freshly shaved legs, and read your favorite poetry books. Eventually, it almost always results in a sexy night with yourself, with one…. or two…. or three strong orgasms.

Tonight was no different, except for the entire bottle of wine adding to the mix of it all. You had just put on fresh sheets, your favorite ones, and you decided to spray them with some of the cologne you have worn for years, the one that makes all you friends “horny” (their words not yours) every time they hug you. As you laid down your cheeks were warm and buzzy from all the wine. You smiled to yourself, euphoric from how good the night turned out to be. You opened Tumblr to find your favorite smut’s, and began to read. As it began to heat up, so did you. Your hand finally crept its way under your panties, feeling the wetness already growing.

You were so happy, so warm, so drunk on joy. The thick smells of your lotion and cologne, the silkiness of the fresh sheets against your smooth legs, your fingers pressed against your clit, circling tightly, soaking in the pleasure, it all only added to your euphoria. Your eyes had closed, no longer reading the smut but using your mind instead. Memories of previous nights, of previous hookups helping to fuel your self love. One of your hands was on your boob, grabbing and squeezing and pinching your hard nipple, while the other was dancing in between your thighs. The top sheet had fallen down right above your waist and the thicker blankets were now in a pile by your feet. You were creeping closer and closer to the edge, so in love with the way you were making yourself feel. Sweet moans were quietly spilling from your lips, moans that caught tightly in your throat when your door opened abruptly. You tried to stop fast enough, tried to grab at the sheet to cover your body, but it was too late.

Layla was standing in the doorway, her face bright red, eyes wide, just as frozen as you were. “I- I” she stuttered, then stopped again, seemingly unsure of what to say. “Layla what the hell are you doing coming into my room at fucking 11pm?! Jesus can a girl get some fucking privacy?” you spit out at her, trying to cover up the embarrassment you felt. Embarrassment mixed with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “I’m so sorry, I came in to ask if you had an extra guitar pick, I can’t find any of mine. I didn’t mean to interrupt your moment” she giggled just a bit at the end, making your cheeks fill with blood, maybe from anger, maybe from embarrassment, maybe from lust. You couldn’t tell, your emotions were all jumbled in your mind. Layla was still staring at you, looking back between your eyes and your chest. When you looked down to see what she was so eager to see, you noticed your boob was still out. “Fuck” you grabbed your bralette, placing it back where it was supposed to be as quickly as you could. “Why are you still here?” you ask, your voice was tight and angry. “Well…. Do you have one or not?” she responded nonchalantly. “Are you joking? You are still worried about getting a damn guitar pick after walking in on me clearly wanting to be alone” she just stared at you, as if she was waiting for you to give her what she needed.

You just wanted her gone, still feeling incredibly horny and craving your release, so you got out of bed and walked over to the cup on your desk filled with your picks. You didn’t even care that you were just in your underwear, I mean she already saw the worst of it, you couldn’t be modest now. As you turned to walk towards her you caught her staring directly at your ass, and when she saw you watching her, she didn’t try to hide it, continuing to eye your exposed body with a small smirk on her face. God you hated her, why was she looking so smug at you, why was always ruining all your good moments. When you handed her the pick your hands touched briefly, causing an unexpected electric tinge to run through your body and the feeling of her skin on yours. Fuck. Was the feeling embarrassment or was it attraction? Was it hatred and anger or attraction? Your mind felt overwhelmed by all the things you felt and for some reason she was still standing there.

“Alright, there ya go, you got what you needed, now can you please leave” you slightly barked at her, even more annoyed knowing that she had your mind playing emotional twister. She looked you up and down again with a small smirk growing onto her face. Her eyes met yours and she had a look you had never seen from her before. “I could leave, yea…” she started, “Or I could help ya out a little” you were stunned at her words, fully unsure of what to do or say. “Excuse me?” you finally manage to get out. “I mean I did interrupt you and ruin your fun, you looked like you were really enjoying yourself. It’s only right that I help you out now” you stood there, just staring at her, trying hard to process all that was happening, all that you were feeling. The wine wasn’t helping the situation, only allowing you to focus on how hard your clit was still throbbing, and how badly you still needed a release. Before you could stop it, words were pouring from your lips. “You did stop me right as it was getting good” your voice was thick with lust as you said it. “It's only fair I help you now, I don’t need another reason for you to hate me” You laughed at her words, not denying any of it anymore. As you looked up at her you bit your lower lip, unable to hide how much you suddenly wanted her. That was all the confirmation she needed to grab you by the waist and kiss you hard.

She pulled away long enough to shut the door behind her as she guided you back to your bed. As your lips attached again, they were fueled by intense amounts of anger, anger that had been building for months. Anger that you now were realizing had been disguising a deep attraction you had for her. As she pushed you on the bed and crawled on top of you she took a deep inhale, taking in the scent that your bed was drenched in, your scent. “Fuck that smell has been driving me crazy ever sense I met you. You smell so fucking good its sick” her words came out with so much heat. A heat that was coated in both anger and lust. Your bodies moved against each other so forcefully, like you didn’t know if you wanted to fight or fuck. Her hands squeezed your hips so tightly it stung, only making you want her more. The way she was dominating you was making you core throb, hungry for her touch, drunk off her power. Your lips continued tangling together but it grew sloppier and sloppier every second. When she finally pulled away you were gasping for air. “You’re so fucking hot Layla, god it makes me sick” you still felt the anger in you, still looking at her with hatred, but it was now mixed with desire, which made it all so much stronger. She reached down, latching her lips on your collarbone as you groaned and threw your hands into her hair. “I need your body y/n, fuck let me touch you” she looked down at you, her eyes rapidly darting across every part of your body. You sat up to take off your bralette as she reached for the waistband of your underwear pulling it off. As soon as she had you naked she was working hard to get her own clothes off, tugging and ripping so fast she was almost getting tangled in it.

When she was finally naked your lips met back together harshly, slamming into each other as if they were strong magnets, not able to resist the force. Your hands were all over her, moving so quickly, not sure where you wanted to touch most. Her hands did the same, finally landing on your boobs, pulling them just as you were earlier. As she pinched down on your nipples you moaned into her mouth. It came out so quickly you had no way of stopping it, or quieting it. The way you craved her was so intense it scared you. Your hands reached underneath her body, which still hovered over you, and snaked their way between her thighs. She inhaled deeply as she spread her legs slightly, inviting you in closer to her. Her small movement gave you full access to her, immediately reaching up feeling how wet this had made her- you had made her. She groaned at your touch but quickly reached under her and grabbed your hands, pinning them down harshly beside your head. You yelped at the dominance, your eyes filled with lust and hunger. Every part of you was ready to submit to her fully, ready to let her do whatever she wanted to you.

When she began to slide off of you you whined slightly, unsure of what was to come. She spread your legs and let her spit drip down, hitting your clit perfectly causing your hips to jolt slightly. You watched as she sat back up moving quickly, but not where you expected for her to go. She moved her legs so they were intertwined with hers, and lowered herself slowly until your pussy met hers. You both immediately groaned out at the feeling of your lips sliding together. Her arousal was mixing with yours and it made you feel so hot it almost hurt. When she quickly began moving her hips back and forth you closed your eyes, back arching off the bed immediately. She grabbed your thigh hard as she thrusted her wet cunt onto yours, your clits rubbing together so perfectly you felt like you could cum on the spot. “Oh god Layla yes” you whispered passionately, trying your best to stay quiet, to hide what you and the roommate you were supposed to hate, were doing. “Yes baby yes” she whined back, thrusting faster as she felt your hips pushing up, adding pressure to the contact of your clits. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed, mouth hanging open as her clit hit yours over and over again. You felt her juices dripping into you, the sensation so intense you wanted to scream.

“God you’re so fucking hot y/n” Layla said, out of breath, her movements not slowing down at all. The intensity of your energy was only growing as she fucked you. The anger still lingered, but you wanted it to, it only made this whole thing hotter. “Layla don’t stop, your pussy feels so good on mine, please don’t stop” you were begging, having to take breaks from your words to let out the moans she was fucking out of you. One hand reached up to grab her big boobs, bouncing and swaying in front of you as she let her pussy circle your clit perfectly. The sight of her getting herself off on you was overwhelming. Her hair was stuck to her flushed forehead, eyeliner smudged only making it sexier. Her head was thrown back showing off her neck and collarbones so nicely, and her free boob was boucing with every move she made. The pleasure made her abs tighten, showing off her toned stomach and her belly button twinkled with the light pink glow of your room. “Mmm baby you pussy feels so good, you’re gonna make me cum” she groaned a little too loudly, before closing her mouth and humming intensely, trying to keep in her moans. Her words brought you right to the edge and you began thrusting up and down against her, needing to feel more, needing to get out this aggression somehow. “Oh shit, oh fuck you’re gunna make me cum Layla, fuck…. Cum with me please baby” you begged. As soon as you got your words out you hit your high, throwing your hand over your mouth as you came hard. Layla came at the same time, both of you thrusting harder and trying your best to keep your moans quiet. You could feel your cum mixing with hers, drenching both of you messily. Your legs shook against hers as you both continued to ride out your highs. It was as if you were floating together, lifted off the bed in one tangled mess, hypnotized and high from how good you were making eachother feel

She finally collapsed next to you as you both worked hard to catch your breath. You were silent for a moment, still only half way back on earth. After a while you were able to find your words again “What the fuck just happened” you laughed out in between your panting. “I interrupted you getting yourself off and i helped out” she laughed back at you. “Helped me out too, damn” she continued. “Jesus” you sighed, still trying to ground yourself. “I know” she responded, very much in the same state you were. You laid there trying to process what just happened, trying to understand how Layla was laying next you, both fully naked, both covered in each other's cum.

[valeskalikespickles]

OUT OF MY LEAGUE

Request by Anonymous

EVAN BUCKLEY X READER

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Reader likes Buck and isn't too confident about it. She tends to get jealous. Buck and reader get into an argument.. then booyah idk they want each other. I kind of just wrote out of my ass. But thank you so much for requesting!!

Gender: Female

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Having feelings for my best friend probably wasn’t my smartest idea.. Especially because he is literally the furthest anyone could be out of my league. But I like to torture myself so.. Here we are! I mean I know I’m not ugly per say, but I’m definitely not pretty enough for Buck. 

I was standing with Bobby and Hen when Buck walked over holding his bag over one of his broad shoulders and his phone in the other hand. “Another DXA scan and guess who dropped another half percent?” Buck had a goofy smile on his face and I rolled my eyes. “What?” Hen looked confused but I had been hearing about his stupid obsession over his body fat even though he was literally already perfect. 

“A DXA scan, it measures your body fat.. You can see your percentage in every part of your body.” He said proudly, showing her the screen. “Oh yeah? To measure the fat in your head?” Chimney walked over with a goofy, proud smile on his face. “See that would be funny but right now we’re about a week away from submissions being due for the hot day smoldering nights men of the LAFD wall calendar and I’m already at my goal weight so it seems my head is clearly.. Working perfectly.” I laughed lightly, Hen spoke up.. Rambling about how sexist this whole thing was. 

I zoned out on my phone, another perfect girl showing up on my Instagram feed. God really chooses favorites doesn’t he? Chimney broke me out of my trance, “Okay, that is a beautiful man.” I looked up from my phone to see a newbie, a bit shorter than Buck, brunette, brown eyed, hispanic, the complete opposite of Buck. Alright, why am I comparing them? Buck doesn’t like me like that. “Where’s the lie? And I like girls.” Hen laughed and I snickered as well. “Who the hell is that?” Buck looked almost offended. 

“Buck, you're not getting replaced.. Calm down.” I placed a hand on his arm with a laugh and he rolled his eyes and shrugged my hand off. “That’s Eddie Diaz, new recruit. He graduated top of his class just this week. ” Bobby spoke, hands on his hips as usual like a disappointed mom. “The guys over at station six were dying to have him but I convinced him to join us.” 

“What do we need him for?” Buck almost snapped, gosh this new guy thing was definitely getting to him. I walked away from the conversation with a small laugh. I went over to the kitchen and grabbed some water. Buck showed up soon after, “This guys trying to steal my spot. I can feel it.” 

“No he isn’t Buck.” I ran a hand through my hair, “Give the guy a chance?”

“Aw you too?” He groaned, spinning in one of the chairs. “He’s already brainwashing you guys!” I let out a laugh, “How’s Abby?” I hated bringing her up but I unfortunately needed to know for my own gain. Not like I’d ever make a move but if he’s single there’s a sliver of hope right? “Haven’t really talked to her in awhile, but there was this girl at the bar. She gave me her number but uh.. We went back to her place.” He sighed. I know he hates how hypersexual he is. “I was doing so well. I Haven't slept with anyone in almost a month.” He admitted.   

“Buck it’s alright to sleep with people sometimes.” I couldn’t ignore the pang in my chest when I thought of him sleeping with anybody else. Just thinking about him with anyone else was enough to drive me insane. “I do it every now and then,” That was a whole ass lie, but he’s my best friend and I needed to make him feel better. “You do?” He laughed, looking up from his hands. “No no I don't. I just wanted you to feel better.” I snickered. I sat down next to him at the bar of the kitchen. “You're a good guy, you just pick shitty women.” 

And with that the alarm went off.

—----------------------------------------------------

I got home, setting my bag on the counter and pulling my coat off. I hung my keys up on the ring and almost immediately took my belt off. That thing was suffocating 24/7. I looked down and saw 4 missed messages from Buck. I groaned and opened them. 

Evan:“Can I come over? A pipe burst in Abby's apartment and it flooded.”

Evan:“Viennnaaaa.” 

Evan:“Viiiii”

Evan:“I’m about to just show up if you don’t respond.” 

Vienna: “Why would I care? Yeah you can always come over but I swear if I hear anything else about this stupid calendar I'll lose it.” 

Evan<3 liked a message

I shouldn’t be excited for him to come over.. Well he’s my best friend so I should be but also what if I say something stupid? I’m already exhausted enough. About 15 minutes later Buck walked through the door, I was in my pjs and was holding my cat Prince. “Oh hey.” I sat the cat down and greeted him with a hug. “All your stuff okay?” I tilted my head slightly and he nodded. “All of my stuff yeah.. But Abbys not so much.” He laughed. 

“Why are you still living there?” I blurted, not really regretting it. He shrugged, “where else would I stay?”

“Your apartment?”

He shook his head, “I sold it.” He gave me a look that said ‘please don’t be mad at me’ I gave him almost a mom look. “Evan.” His lips immediately turned into a thin line. “I wasn’t thinking!” He protested and I shook my head. “Just stay here. It’s not healthy for you to stay there anymore.. She’s not coming back and you know that.”

“You don’t know that.” He sighed and let out almost an amused laugh. “You still think she’ll come back for you?” That sounded harsh but it was true. He furrowed a brow in confusion, “Why are you acting like this?” He scoffed and I rolled my eyes. “You're just making yourself miserable! Staying at your ex-girlfriend's house isn’t healthy.”

“Oh and you know so much about a healthy relationship hm?” He said, clenching his jaw. 

“Buck.” I warned.

“No no, please enlighten me. What do you know about a healthy relationship? The last guy you were with cheated on you twice and you stayed.” He scoffed once more and almost immediately looked like he regretted it. “This isn’t the same situation.” I shook my head. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighed. 

“Then how did you mean it because it for sure sounded like you meant I’m a dumb ass for staying with him even though- You know what? No, I'm not doing this right now.” I threw my hands up in frustration and turned to walk to my room. “Guest beds made for you.” I said as I slammed my door.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I heard a knock on my door and sighed, getting up and letting Buck in. “I’m sorry for being a dick.” He flopped onto my bed and turned to lean on his hand, propped up on his elbow. 

“Me too.” I sat down with my legs crossed in front of him. “You really are welcome to stay here. Unless you’d rather be at Abby’s?” 

He shook his head and placed a hand on my knee, I could’ve sworn I let out a quiet yelp. “No no, I’d rather be here.” I smiled at him, “Finally decided to believe your best friend.” 

He sat up and faced me, “Have you ever thought about.. You know us bein-” There was a knock at the door that I got up to go get and saw my neighbor standing there. “Oh hey Jamie, what's up?” She handed me a white envelope and smiled back. “Mail got mixed up again.”

I took the envelope with a grin, “Oh thank you! Have a nice evening.” She waved goodbye and I closed the door behind myself. “What were you saying?” I looked up at Buck and grabbed my letter opener. He shook his head. “Nevermind.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later Buck was still living with me and it was starting to feel like he was staying for this long on purpose. That’s silly though right?

I was making dinner when he got home, a 24 hour shift that I could already tell knocked the life out of him. He walked over and took a piece of bacon from the plate. Breakfast for dinner. (Like the only thing I can cook) 

“Can I talk to you?” He spoke softly, I nodded. “What happened to Hello, how are you?” I laughed, he rolled his eyes and continued. “I’ve been thinking and.. What if we went out sometime?”

I nodded, “Like where? Bowling again?”

He laughed, “No no.. like on a date, Vi.” I looked at him like he was some alien, what in the world was he even talking about right now? “What? Did the station get dosed again?”

He looked down at me with those pretty pretty eyes I could never resist no matter how hard I tried. “Vi.. I’m being serious.”

“You really are desperate aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes, he just wanted sex so bad. He shook his head and rested a hand on my cheek. “We don’t even have to do anything...” He leaned down into my ear, speaking barely above a whisper. “I like you, Vienna.” I pulled back to look up at him. “Is this a joke? I understand I’m not the prettiest but no need to mock me, Evan..” 

He looked confused, “I’m not mocking you? You're literally stunning.”

If he was fucking around I was gonna kill him. I looked up at him, looking for any sign of insincerity.. Nothing. All I could do was nod, him leaning down to kiss me. It wasn’t like how Liam(my ex) used to kiss me, it meant something. I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck before remembering the eggs. “Shit.” I turned to the stove and quickly took them off the burner. “So.. that's a yes?” He smiled, I nodded with a laugh. “It’s a yes, Buck.”   

[rensukepie]

Lorord do u have anythjng… to say abt Aiku and niou…. They’re so fine but i legit cannot find a single other person going crazy abt niou on here Guys comeon… THEY’RE BOTH SOOO BIG AND STRONGG if u have Anyything abt size kink or manhandling i think i’d genuinely go fuckinf Insane .,,,,

aiku + niou size kink/manhandling :3

a/n : IM SO SORRY @aikuposer FOR TAKING SO LONG ON THIS… (I made niou’s part longer for you :3)

minors dni

nsfw under the cut

oliver aiku

you knew how big and strong your boyfriend was even before you dated him.

sometimes, you’d see him playing soccer in the fields with a couple of his friends or you’d spot him in the gym lifting a crazy amount, which would keep you up at night with your tiny fingers inside of you, thinking about how easy you could be for him to carry around, or how he could just pick you up and press you against a wall to fuck his cock into you right there, or if his cock would show a bulge in your stomach.

….

“ah- a…aiku…you’re too big f’me..” your eyes are all glossy because of him! you can’t even count the amount of times he’s made you cum already. but right now, all you care about is his big cock plowing in and out of your tight cunt. so much so that you’re practically creaming all over it!

“mm… you say that every time I fuck you doll.. but you like how big i am, don’t you? you’re fucking creaming all over my dick like a slut.”

it’s almost as if he could read you’re face.

“y..yeah… feels so good… gonna cum again..”

“cum for me baby.. show me how good i make you feel…”

….

of course, he’ll treat you right after all of that! starting you a nice bath and possibly another round :3!

kazuma niou

“n…niou.. mm! ffuckkk…”

as one of his friends, you had agreed to help him forget about his girlfriend who broke up with him recently. but for some reason, you’re now in his bedroom and you don’t know how or when it happened!

you hate to admit it, but you always thought niou was somewhat—no, very attractive. you couldn’t help it! there was so much tension between you too, and now the both of you are fucking in his bedroom.

he’s so strong! his arms and thighs are sooo big, you wonder if he could throw you around and just take you at any time… I mean, he’s a boxer, isn’t he?

“you’re pussy’s squeezing around my cock baby.. you wanted this huh?”

“n…no I didn’t..! haah— mm…”

“you can lie to me all you want, but this pretty pussy of yours tells me everything I need to know..”

soon after, he’s throwing you into a different position all with ease! lying you on top of him, squeezing your cute little ass while he thrusts his cock into you once again.

…..

the next time you see him, you both are at you’re apartment this time. your roommate went on a trip with her friends, so you both had the whole thing to yourselves.

he’s such a tease! licking and sucking at your pussy even if you’ve already came with both of his arms wrapped around your legs. he seriously can’t get enough of your sweet cunt, can he?

“n…niou! you’re so mean… haah—…”

“sorry cutie… can’t help it… your cunt is s’sweet and cute…���

….

[thekintsugikids]

saturday might not be my favorite fob song but it is Thee FOB Song of All Time and it’s arguably the most important song they’ve ever made…like, andy credited that song as being the One that made him believe fob was special enough to stay, patrick would’ve never let it be heard in a world without pete, it’s the song that made them feel like they were doing something good and special and worthwhile and without it we probably wouldn’t have fall out boy. the band would’ve just been a fun little summer thing and they would’ve all gone in separate directions…but patrick wrote saturday instead

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

:((((((((( i ran out of tags . tumblr hates to see me thrive!!!!!!!

ok niku just . read the tags first and then come back here ok 🙏🙏 i have a lot i still need to say this is so important to me . this fic changed my life .

(WARNING this got long ….. really long ….. mysteriously. i got carried away 💔 PLS don’t feel the need to respond to any of this btw i mean that sincerely i know this is kind of a Lot i just need you to know much i adored this fic <3333)

BACK TO GOJO ok so his talk w reader…… it was just so satisfying to see them finally get to tell someone about their experience. it must’ve been such a great feeling for them !!!! to get some of it off their chest :((( … and to have Gojo Fucking Satoru our safe harbour of a man there to believe them and listen to them and reassure them. he’s so mature when it comes down to it and you captured that so well…… like as much as he acts childish and teasing this is exactly how i picture him interacting w someone he doesn’t know in a situation like this!! he’s flirty and unserious but he tells you he’ll protect you and means it. (i’m so down bad it physically hurts)

sorry i’m abt to go on a tangent i think BUT I JUST 😔😔 really… REALLY love their dynamic…. how it evolves so much even though he doesn’t even know reader exists for most loops!! and to them he’s just this beautiful Something that they can’t help but look at…… ”inhumanly attractive” is a great way to put it like he’s just….. this magnetic force……….. and i feel like even before they speak to him for the first time they probably find some kind of hope in him.

AND that’s so important bc to me that’s like . the main Theme of the fic? hope. reader has to find some kind of hope to make it through shibuya and more often than not they find it in gojo!!! in just seeing a familiar handsome face, in learning how to navigate the timeline through his actions, in talking to him and finally having him on their side. their choice to trust him fully at the end just made me soooo insane. and obv the hope theme continues even after that because gojo believes in them!!! believes that they’ll be okay in the prison realm….. more on that later actually bc i Still. have a lot to talk abt 😔👉👈 i’m just wildly flipping through my notes at this point i’m sorry to throw this at u when we’ve barely interacted but in my defense this fic reached into my actual skull and started rewiring my brain so!!!! yeah.

i got completely sidetracked there but . yes!! the conversation between them when gojo gets sent back in time is. so good!!!!! so wonderfully written!!!!! i haven’t mentioned it that much yet i think but i love your writing i devoured every line…… i struggle w the flow of my own writing SO much but this just flows so incredibly well??? it was sm fun to read????? and the rhythm of the paragraphs (that sounds. Insane but i hope u know what i mean 😭😭) is so distinct!!! and ofc there are SO many banger lines in this in general…. the gore descriptions and the lines abt reader and their fixation on hope. on gojo!! ”He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.” <- this is just one example but!! idk i’m just so enamored by ur writing style.

and the dialogue!!!!!!!! i cried!!!!!! it’s so consistently gojo…. him going all ”oh?” ”interesting…” but not explaining anything … the ”ding ding ding!” after making reader guess what he should just be telling them (it’s the teacher in him <33) AND AND AND these too!!!! :3

“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”

“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.” 

THEY JUST FEEL SO CANON that’s our gojo…… that’s exactly what he would say…… he’s so unserious and so funny and so charming 😔😔 sigh.

ANDDDDD reader telling him good luck!!!! gojo beaming and squeezing their shoulder!!!!! the lil wave!!!!! 🥺🥺 that made me smile so wide niku he’s so infuriatingly cute . it felt so genuine!!!! pls know that this gojo will probably live in my brain forever like genuinely . i’ve been brainrotting over him all week and this was the final nail in the coffin. i’ll never be free.

ok but also !!!! extremely important !!!!!!! before i get to the ending i just need to tell u . how much i loved kenjaku in this ……….. kenjaku nation (me & six others) will never forget these crumbs of content like he just feels so real!!!!! and he’s so interesting!!!!! made me realize how truly down bad i am for him bc these lines made me so fucking happy 😭😭 brain started releasing serotonin like CRAZY i’m so ashamed.

“You can come out, you know.”

”How interesting.”

"I'll be nice, though. I'll make it painless."

…….. he’s just ….. yeah. yeahhhhh. 😔😔 i’ll never be normal abt him. i think it’s SUCH an interesting detail that he always makes reader’s death painless in every single loop…. he never lies about it. that feels so in character to me too!!! he’s kinda fascinated at first and when that interest disappears he kills them. but he doesn’t make it unecessarily cruel because there’s just. no need. kenjaku is a sicko but he’s oddly polite at times and i’m just……. yeah. gonna need you to take over for gege akutami actually 🙏🙏 get in the writer’s chair!!! the fandom needs u!!!!!

wait while we’re on this topic pls just know the entire confrontation between reader and kenjaku was one of my favorite moments in the entire fic <333 not JUST because i’m a kenny stan ok……… reader’s resignation and ”I appreciate it.” made my brain spin because it’s just . kinda chilling? kinda sick? that they aren’t even really afraid of death anymore… or more like they’re just so frighteningly used to it.

AND AND ANDDDD niku your writing in this scene 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 gutted me like a fish.

Time doesn't flow in the box. He didn't lie. You die again.

i exploded btw . ackkk i wish i could explain it better i just!!! :< adore your writing. these lines made me go completely batshit they’re just so good. and the ”time doesn’t flow in the box” line … how that ties in with the ending and reader’s choice. whewww.

segway time <3333 this is the final rant i promise!!! i just need to talk about the ending bc it was so perfect and like many other things in this fic it made me insane …. have i said that already …. probably at least a couple times 😔👉👈 it’s true ok!! it’s just sooo interesting to me and obviously so wellwritten and fitting and just. thematically ties everything together so well? i was FLOORED

hhhhh i don’t know where to begin so i’ll just start w the final convo between reader and gojo :> he asks for their name !!!!!!! i cried !!!!!!!!!! calling someone by their name or knowing their name as a form of like . Closeness or Affection is one of my greatest weaknesses and i also think it’s soooo telling that GOJO wants to know Your Name. he wants to know you. to hear that from someone who seems so inhumanly beautiful and violent….. for him to kind of extend a final olive branch and attempt to connect w you :((((( it just says so much without spelling it out and i. started chewing at my desk. it’s so good!!!!!!! such a genius way to tie everything together!!!! and reader’s final words to him…

“Thank you, Satoru Gojo.” You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.  And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black. 

first of all!!! so so sooooo pretty. wowow. second of all THE THANK YOU ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ that’s also such a perfect conclusion…….. reader finally put their trust in someone and had that faith returned. and they thank him!!!! i like to think it means something to gojo too…. likeeee how often do people really thank him for what he does? how often is his hard work to protect people acknowledged and appreciated? sorry to bring gojo back into the discussion all the time sadly i AM in love w him….. 😔😔 and this fic made it worse so technically it’s your fault. kind of.

okay so my brain is kinda spinning away again so i’ll get to the final final thing!!!! for real this time!!!!! reader’s decision to be imprisoned in gojo’s stead… that’s so . genius? i’m so in awe??????? it makes so much sense from a character perspective based on what they’ve been through — after being at the mercy of time for so long, wouldn’t it be nice to be free of it? completely? it’s almost kind of chilling and just the idea of it scares me LMAO but it makes sm sense that reader would be drawn to it.

AND like i mentioned before!!! how it leads to a deeper connection between them and gojo, and how at the very end of the fic he’s the one who has faith in them. faith that they’ll be alright, of sound mind.

…… and that brings me to the final final final thing because. it’s just like the opening poem!! reader is the cat in the box. nobody can say for sure if they’re alright, not to mention alive, until the box is opened. and we don’t get to know!!! you leave us on a cliffhanger and that’s so good bc it really is like the cat in the box…. we can only wonder but it also gives us the freedom to decide for ourselves if we think they come out okay or not and i’m just………….. in love. with this fic. and the ending and the reader and gojo and you.

hopefully you’ve noticed atp but i really did go completely insane reading this 😭😭 i said it at the beginning but just to reiterate!!: for SURE one of my all time favorite gojo fics . AND loopfics in general…. thank you sm for your hard work :’3 aaaa i can’t tell u how much i admire the time you spent working on this??? your storytelling and writing and characterization skills????? i genuinely feel sooo giddy and excited and happy rn bc. i just adored this fic!!!! i’m so lucky i got to read it!!!!! :33 pls pat your gojo on the head from me and let him know i love him…. it’ll boost his ego but that’s a risk i’m willing to take 😔😔 i hope you have theeeee loveliest day or night a human being can have bc you made mine <3333333

beyond the unending night (reader + satoru gojo)

notes: it's finally here. the long awaited halloween fic. yes, i know it's march, but i did start working on it in september. haha. there's so much i could say, but i will leave it at that this fic is, in every sense, a fic that i would not normally write. and yet here we are.

contains: f!reader (no physical description or gendered language is used), no explicit romantic pairing (though you don't have to look hard to find the reader x gojo implications), major character death (played with), semi-graphic depictions of death, blood and violence, minor suicide ideation, canon retelling (lines of dialogue are pulled from the jjk english dub because i'm a dirty dub watcher). opening poem is from higurashi no naku koro ni (minagoroshi-hen). fic title is from giga's beyond the way.

please note that this is a time loop fic and, by nature contains repeating scenes (particularly from canon). please do not read this fic if you do not like that sort of thing.

wc: 21,883 read on ao3 (account required)

Please tell me what happened in this night. It's like the cat inside the box.

Please tell me what happened in this night. You don't know if the cat in the box is dead or alive. Please tell me what happened in this night. The cat in the box was dead.

The first time, it is instant— you don’t even know what’s happening.

The second, it is by flame, but you barely realize it, barely feel it— a second of mind numbing heat before nothing.

The third time, it is something slicing across your throat; you see the blood spilling everywhere, then the pain follows— a moment of pure agony before nothing.

The fourth time you realize what’s going on; what’s really going on.

You realize you’ve been dying.

You think your head is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because the subway platform is crowded, insanely so— there are hundreds of people shoved into this space alongside you, packed like sardines in a can. You’ve never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you live in Tokyo. For the most part, you’ve learned to accept it, but even this crowd is a little much and you wish you hadn’t listened to your friends when they said you should go party in Shibuya for Halloween; you don’t even like partying.

There’s a sharp pain in your temple followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone is screaming it at you through a megaphone positioned right next to your ear.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

For the eighth time.

Before you can even question the thought, images flash in your mind’s eye, blurry at first before they come into focus. The platform gates open. Chaos ensues. People dropping onto the subway tracks— spontaneously bursting into flame— their heads, necks sliced off, stomachs cut open—

Bile rapidly builds up in your throat, and you clamp your jaw shut, trying to force it down. Not here. Not now. You try to focus on something else, anything else happening outside of your brain. There’s a pair next to you musing about the people standing on the subway tracks, wondering what the two (the four?) of them are talking about. You blink back tears as you look. You can only see two: a freakishly tall man with white hair dressed in all black, and another man, dressed in strange, yet more traditional looking garb. Are those costumes too? You don’t have a lot of time to think about it as another image forces its way into your brain.

Your corpse— lifeless on the ground.

Your corpse— burning to ash.

Your corpse— bleeding out.

You can’t hold it in any more. Every fiber in your being screams at you to get away from the subway tracks, but instead you rush toward them, shoving people left and right as your hands desperately reach the stability of the gate. You grip it like a lifeline as you retch over the side of it, the contents of your stomach spilling all over the subway tracks.

There’s a quiet murmur of disgust behind you but you can’t be bothered to respond. You need to get out of here. You need to leave. You need to do it before—

The gates open and the crowd starts to move like a tidal wave, pushing and shoving their way through the gate. You’re swept away, vomit long forgotten as you and a few dozen others tumble onto the railway.

Alarm bells go off in your brain, loud and deafening. A voice in the back of your head screams for you to get off the track! Get off the track now before—

The platform erupts into a cacophony of screams, drenched in horror, saturated in fear. You are surrounded by people, by corpses— beheaded, sliced open, bursting into flames.

Your terror roots you to the ground as the carnage ensues around you. It’s only when another person, another corpse, dressed in a magical girl costume collides with your body that you can finally move. But it’s too late, you realize, despaired and helpless, as your bodies fall to the ground.

It’s too late.

You die an eighth time.

You think your chest is going to explode.

At first, you think it’s because it’s so hard to breathe, frustratingly so— there are hundreds of people squeezed into this space alongside you, packed like cattle for slaughter. You've never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you’re in Shibuya. For the most part, you’ve come to accept it, but this crowd is way too much and you wish you had just stayed home and ordered a pizza; though honestly, the thought of pizza kind of makes you sick.

There’s a dull throbbing in your forehead, followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone’s hollering at you from a loudspeaker that’s been installed in your brain.

It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You think it's the ninth time now.

Behind you, you hear a woman screaming, her voice crazed and terrified. You turn your head automatically to look at her and when you see her you realize you recognize her yellow and white magical girl costume. You can say with certainty that you’ve never seen her before and yet—

Before you can ruminate more on it, images— memories assault your mind’s eye with a clarity that is absolutely sickening. That woman colliding into you, your bodies slamming into the subway tracks before you both— Your stomach churns violently,

and you feel like you’re going to puke, but you force it down— can't afford to right now. Instead, you make your way over to the woman.

Her head is in her hands as she mutters over and over again about how everyone is going to die. People around her figure that being stuck in here with the crowd has probably gotten to her. You, however, know better.

“...hey,” you say softly.

Her muttering comes to an abrupt halt and slowly she raises her head to look at you. There’s a flash of recognition in her eyes and she grabs you violently by the shoulders. “You! You know, don’t you? That we’re going to die?”

If it weren’t for the fact that you have indeed experienced death here eight times already, then you would have thought she’s lost her mind. Slowly, you nod and she seems relieved by it, her grip on you loosening.

You can’t help but feel a little relieved too— glad to know that you’re not the only one experiencing this nightmare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s confused though. Why is she only remembering now? But then again, it took you a few times before you realized yourself.

Around you people start to gasp, and you glance back toward the railway to see an abnormally tall man with white hair and dressed in all black jump down from the atrium onto the railway. He lands rather gracefully for someone who jumped at least one floor and starts to converse with the other three people (you think they're people— two of them are in some pretty wild costumes) on the track.

Wait. Isn’t it supposed to be just two people: the tall man and the one in the traditional clothes? Where did the other two come from?

“We have to get out of here,” the woman says. “Before they kill us.”

Her grip shifts from your shoulders to your arms and she starts to shove at everyone around you, trying to force her way through. She seems to know, just as well as you do, that any second now the gates will open and the crowd will start spilling onto the railway, littering the tracks with bodies and ash. Neither of you can let yourselves get swept up with the rest. If you do and you end up on those tracks, you’re as good as dead.

People move aside at a snail's pace, many of them too focused on trying to see what is going on on the subway tracks. This isn't good. You need to move faster or else—

The collective sound of the gates opening echoes in your head, a metallic hiss that makes your stomach fold into itself. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you both whip your heads back to look, to confirm, but it’s a mistake.

The briefest lapse in attention is enough to pull you both into the current of people, and try as you might to fight against it, the crowd splits you and the woman apart as it swallows you both whole. You’re both spat onto the tracks at the edge of the platform and your head collides with the metal rails of the track. It feels like your skull is about to crack in two, and it takes every fiber in your being to scramble to your feet. You're close enough to the platform that if you can just climb up it, then you'll be—

“Help! Help!”

It’s the woman’s voice. You turn to see that she ended up a couple meters away from you. She’s staring at you, eyes brimming with fear filled tears as she extends her hand in your direction. You take a step toward her, reaching out.

And then, her entire body is engulfed in flames, the skirt of her magical girl costume a ring of fiery death around her.

Her blood curdling scream is the only thing you can hear, her burning flesh, the only thing you can see. You don’t know what to do.

You can’t save her.

There's something touching your back. You can barely feel the pressure, but it's hot, scorching hot, mind numbingly hot, painfully hothothot.

You know this sensation. You have felt it before. The scent of burning cloth, burning hair, burning flesh clogs your nostrils. It's too late, you realize, helpless, despaired as the flames eat at your body— your soon to be corpse.

It's too late.

You die a ninth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the tenth time.

Your head hurts, but you ignore it. There’s something more important that you need to attend to. You immediately make your way to the woman you met during your last round, the one you watched burn to death. Her costume is still pristine, unmarred by fire and death.

For now.

She’s not screaming this time and while there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that’s concerned by this, you try to ignore it.

“Um, excuse me?” you say when she doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach.

The woman turns to look at you. You’re taken aback by the distinct lack of recognition and it feels almost as if the woman you encountered previously and the one before you now are two separate people. In a way, they technically are.

“Do I… know you?” she finally asks when you don’t say anything.

Your mouth is dry. How do you even answer that? You don’t know her. You just watched her die twice. You know her. She begged you for help. You couldn’t save her.

If you explain all of this you know she’s just going to think you’ve lost your mind. Maybe you already have— you’ve died nine times after all.

You give her a weak smile. “I… just wanted to tell you that you think your costume looks great.”

She blinks, taken aback by your words. There’s no doubt that she wasn’t expecting you to say that. It’s the truth though, her costume is nice; she’s dressed up as a character from a magical girl anime that was popular a couple years ago.

“Thank you! I made it myself!” The woman breaks out into a genuine smile and your heart hurts. In a few moments she’ll die and the costume she worked so hard to make will be nothing but ash on the subway tracks.

“Sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“For?”

For watching her die. For not being able to save her.“...I just kind of came up to you all of a sudden…”

She laughs. “It’s okay.”

It’s not.

You consider telling her that she should try to move. That if she stays here she will die. You don’t want her to die. Again. You can still hear her screaming in your ears as she burned to death. You want to tell her.

You don’t.

“Stay safe, okay?” you say. It almost sounds like you’re begging.

She gives you another smile, kind and gentle and you think you’re far too undeserving of it for not telling her what fate will soon befall her. “You too.”

“I’ll try,” you say and move away from the woman just as the gates open and the crowd surges toward the railway. You do not fight it as you are swept up into the crowd and despite what you said, you do not try, this time, to stay safe.

You die for the tenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the fourteenth time.

There’s a slight ache in your head, but it’s subtle enough that you can ignore it. The pain you feel lessens with each round and you think it’s a sign that your body no longer feels the need to remind you of the precarious situation that you’re in.

Or maybe you are just becoming numb to everything: your death, the death of the people around you, the death of the woman in the magical girl costume—

You try not to think about it too much as you reach into your bag to check the time on your phone: 8:37PM. There’s not a lot of time: you need to move.

At the very end of your last attempt to escape this nightmare you realized something. You need to know exactly what is going on around you so you can plan accordingly: where to not stand, where to not go. Up until now, you’ve relied almost solely on the knowledge gained from your previous failures to try and survive, but obviously it’s not enough to keep you alive. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize this earlier. The panic, maybe? The fear?

Maybe you really are becoming numb to all this.

Unlike previous iterations, this time you elect to move closer to the gate, positioning yourself somewhere against it where you’re unlikely to be pushed off the platform in a couple minutes when they open. You take great care to place yourself where you can see the ones responsible for the slaughter very clearly. At the beginning, you could only see one, the one who looks the most human, but with each repetition, the other two have become more and more clear. You wonder why. You don’t have time to think about it.

Murmurs nearby alert you to the arrival of the fourth major player involved in the night’s events. You look up and see the white haired man dressed in all black descending upon the platform like an angel from the heavens. This is your first time really looking at him and you realize there’s something almost inhumanly attractive about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it occurs to you that you shouldn’t even try; you don’t have the time to be drooling over some handsome stranger.

You’ve naturally never taken the time to try and listen to whatever the conversation the man and his opponents have before all hell breaks loose on the platform, but you try and lean closer to listen. It’s hard to hear over the dozens of conversations going on behind you, but you try anyway. There might be a clue to what’s actually going on— or better yet, a clue on how to get out of it.

It’s obvious that you’re missing context from what bits of the conversation you do manage to hear, but honestly it all sounds like stuff out of a shounen battle manga. There is one part of the exchange that you manage to hear with a startling sort of clarity. It feels almost as if your heart stops beating as your blood turns ice cold in your veins.

“If I run away, you’re just gonna kill everyone here, right?” the man in black asks.

There’s a pause, and if your heart was still beating it’d be long enough for just four heartbeats.

“If you run away?” The monster with cane repeats, the sadistic grin spreading wide across its features, displaying its charcoal black teeth. The gravelly sound of its voice sets fire to the blood in your veins, your stilled heart thumping wildly, in fear, in anticipation. Soon. It’s happening soon. You brace yourself. “We’re going to do that even if you don’t!”

You die a fourteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is the seventeenth time now.

Things are going surprisingly well, even as the people around you tumble onto the tracks. You manage to hold on, desperation keeping you from falling into the abyss. This is good, you tell yourself, despite the fact that it’s not the first time you’ve achieved this. Every little victory is worth celebrating, but you have to remain vigilant. This is yet another information gathering loop, and while you know that maybe this time you’ll be lucky and live, there’s still a chance, a big one, at that, that you will die again.

You have to make the most of each and every death.

It’s such a morbid thought, but the ends justify the means, or so you tell yourself. If you have to die a few times to make it out of this unending nightmare, then so be it.

The spot you’re in is a good vantage point; it’s easier to see everything happening below you. It’s so good that it’s actually sickening. You watch as the monster with the cane and one with what looks like branches for eyes slaughter the people on the track, mowing them down, setting them aflame. In another life, in another many lives, that was you down there, and for what feels like the first time in forever, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You feel like, at some point, you likened the scene before you to some kind of shounen battle manga, but you think that was wrong.

This is borderline horror.

Everything plays out before you like a scene out of an action horror flick. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were just an extra on set, but you know the reality is that you’re just an extra to whatever phantasmal battle is taking place in front of you. The monsters and the strangely dressed man all try to attack the man in black, but he manages to block every hit effortlessly, as if he is protected by some sort of invisible barrier. When it seems the two monsters are about to hit him, he merely jumps out of the way and the two monsters seem to collide, the force of their combined strength sending a gust of air throughout the crowd. The man in black neatly lands on a nearby platform half wall and says something about curse users, whatever those are, to the monsters, before he starts to mock them, pulling down his strange blindfold in the process.

And this, you’ve found, is where you start to get in trouble.

You clearly remember thinking, at some point, previously, that there was something attractive about this man. You still don’t know what it is. You haven’t had the time to try and figure it out, but there is one thing that you do know: you can’t keep your eyes off of him.

He drops back down onto the tracks, antagonizing his opponents in an arrogant tone as he approaches. When he comes to a stop between the two monsters, the second round of their fight begins. They try to hit him, but he dodges still, gracefully, fluidly, like the three of them are embroiled in some sort of passionate, yet violent dance.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he cruelly rips off one of the arms of the one-eyed monster.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he brutally kicks the branch-eyed monster in the abdomen, sending them flying to the other side of the platform.

You cannot turn your eyes away as he effortlessly hurls the one-eyed, now one-armed monster in the same direction, sending them smashing into the wall.

Only when the man in black seems to fly to the other side is the spell over you seemingly broken. Still, your eyes give chase, and your body too, rushing from one side of the platform to the other. You can’t lose sight of this fight, you tell yourself, settling in a spot you recall being safe during your last round. Doing so could mean another death, another loop, another October 31.

You watch as the man in black acrobatically dodges what looks to be vines or roots that the monster with branches for eyes seems to have summoned from the depths of the Tokyo metro. He lands on the monster’s shoulders, balancing on them as he uses its branch-eyes for leverage. The look in the man’s eyes is so crazed that you can see it from where you’re standing. He says something to it and then—

With a feral and sadistic smile, he rips their eyes straight out of their skull.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest as you watch the fight unfold. It is horrifyingly, disgustingly violent, yet still you watch as people on the track are killed by the human-like person, blood raining down as their freshly beheaded skulls go flying into the air. He and the one-eyed monster launch their counter attacks against the man in black and the blowback is so intense the power goes out causing everyone to scream.

There’s a faint glow where the man in black is standing that starts to grow brighter and brighter. You can make out his form turning to face the wall, and it seems almost like he’s slammed the monster that had branches for eyes against it with some sort of telekinetic power. Despite the panic from the people around you, you manage to hear him, chuckling like a mad man as he draws closer and closer to the monster.

The one-eyed monster yells out a name, a name you think must belong to the man, but he doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as he extends his hands out toward the eyeless monster, exerting some kind of force that you can’t really see. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as the eyeless monster’s entire body is vaporized in a flash of blue light. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster, as the lights flicker back on revealing a smoking crater stained with purple blood where the eyeless monster once stood.

But you do.

Satoru Gojo.

You make sure to remember that.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And this is the eighteenth time.

You watch as the man called Satoru Gojo stalks through the crowd of people on the subway tracks, chasing after the one-eyed fire monster. It throws people at him, in a clear attempt to slow him down.

It does not work.

Satoru Gojo climbs back onto the platform in a way that you can only describe as inhuman, and the people nearby shriek and move away from him, out of terror, out of fear. You, on the other hand, draw closer, refusing to lose sight of him.

He is relentless in his pursuit of the one-eyed monster. It continues to throw person after person at him, but he does not stop and the people float there, suspended in midair before they are gently lowered to the ground by some unseen force and scramble away.

No one dares get close to Satoru Gojo, everyone on the platform seems to know that doing so means certain death, yourself included. But you still feel the need to keep an eye on him. The monster and the strangely dressed man are focusing more on him than the crowd— anyone in between is just collateral damage.

But not you.

Especially since you’ve made it this far— you’ve never made it this far before.

A voice echoes throughout the platform; you realize it’s the automated announcement.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You can hear everyone’s relief coming from all sides. The train is coming! The train is coming! A ripple of hope makes its way throughout the crowd. With the train comes the chance to get off the platform and the senseless violence that’s been happening here. Some of the people around you are talking excitedly and others are running toward the gates, toeing the yellow line they’ve been instructed to wait behind. And you, you should be excited, you should be hopeful.

All you feel is dread.

It eats at your stomach, at your chest, at your mind. Clawing and gnawing at you in a way that leaves you paralyzed on the platform. There’s something wrong here. You can’t be sure because you’ve never made it this far, never survived long enough for the train to come, but something is just not right.

No.

You must be paranoid. The train coming is a good thing. It has to be a good thing. You are just paranoid. It’s normal. It’s natural. Dying seventeen times would do that to anyone— rob them of hope, condemn them to an existence full of fear.

It is not lost on you that the thought of dying more than once, much less, dying seventeen times is not normal or natural in the very slightest.

But you need hope, you crave it, wildly, desperately. The hope of freedom, of escape is the only thing getting you through this unending nightmare. Every time you die, every time you wake, it is with the hope that maybe, just maybe this iteration will be different, maybe this one will be the one where you make it out, make it back to your friends who must be waiting for you, make it back home where you can be safe and sound. You need the hope to keep going. Because without hope, what will you have left?

The train screeches as it pulls into the station and the people around you laugh in both disbelief and relief. They start to push and shove toward it, fighting to be able to board because there’s no way everyone here will be able to get on an eight car train and being left behind at this point is practically synonymous with death. Unable to decide if you believe in the train as a symbol of hope or a new layer of fear, you are pushed along with the crowd toward it.

The doors of the train cars slide open and the current passengers all rush off as they disembark. You as well as everyone else on the platform can see with a horrifying clarity that the train is filled to the brim with monsters. Monsters that reach out and grab anyone their hands can reach. The woman to your left. The person to your right.

You.

Hope is gone.

What do you have left?

You die for the eighteenth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This is probably the twenty-sixth time now.

If there is anything this entire ordeal has taught you, it is that you are resilient. Whether it is some innate trait that you never had any reason to uncover before or just a byproduct of being trapped in an unending cycle of being dead and not dead, you don't know. What you do know, though, is that even if you no longer have hope, you at least have your resilience.

Whether you want it or not.

You check the time. It’s 8:35PM. Something flickers in your chest, like a faint light in a sea of darkness, but you ignore it. You don’t have time right now.

With a nimbleness born from your previous failures, you weave your way through the crowd. You’ve done this enough times to know where the gaps are— who will yield and who won’t. Your destination is the escalator that leads off the platform and up to a higher part of the station. You’d noticed previously that the escalator along with every other entrance onto the platform will eventually be blocked by vines or roots of some sort (the work of the branch-eyed monster probably). It’s not a perfect plan because you don’t know what happens on the other side, but whatever it is has to be better than whatever is happening on the side that you’ve been on.

You’d tried to get to the stairs during your last two rounds, but you’d just missed it. You hadn’t been fast enough and had gotten caged and slaughtered along with the rest. But this time, this time you have more time. It’s just one minute, but it’s enough. You know it is.

The flickering in your heart grows stronger. Hope. You try not to pay attention to it— you don’t want to be disappointed yet again. But you want to so badly. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to focus on the good, tells you that if there was truly no way out of this endless nightmare, then why would you get more and more time with each round to escape your fate?

With that thought in mind, you break out into a run, recklessly rushing through the crowd, shoving anyone who will not yield to the side. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the stark white of Satoru Gojo’s hair as he descends upon the platform.

You need to get up those stairs.

Now.

If you remember correctly, the roots and vines don’t close off the area the moment he touches down, but a little after they start talking, so you think there is probably some time, but you can’t leave it to chance.

The stairs are packed, and for some reason no one is moving. The escalator right next to it is just as full and the power doesn’t seem to be working. You don’t have time for this. You clamber onto the escalator’s rubber handrail, ignoring the weird feeling that passes through your body as you do so. You don’t have the time to worry about whatever that is. The people around you start exclaiming around you, but you don’t care, you don’t listen. You wobble as you try to balance yourself and when you think you’re steady you try to run.

But you trip.

And you die for the twenty-sixth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

This marks the thirtieth time.

And you have, finally, finally made it up the escalator, up the stairs with barely a second to spare. You pause, glancing back as the roots or vines or whatever the hell they are seal off the entrance to the platform. You notice that the area where the plants come down is actually fairly clear, despite the crowd. It seems weird, but you don’t dwell on it.

A strange feeling envelops your entire body and your legs turn into jelly. As you sink to the floor, you realize what you’re feeling is relief as all the tension, maybe thirty iterations of Halloween 2018 worth, seeps from your being. You don't remember the last time you felt anything other than fear and dread; it’s weird, but not unwelcome.

That voice in the back of your mind tells you that you can't relax just yet: October 31st isn’t over. Even though you have repeated this night again and again, burning the events that play out on the platform into your memory, you do not know a single thing that happens over here. It would be smart to scope everything out.

Legs still shaky, you rise to your feet and start walking. You think it’s probably for the best to try and head up to the surface and you make your way up to the next floor.

It’s packed with people here too, but relatively peaceful, especially when you compare it to the pandemonium taking place beneath your feet. Still, you can make out the undeniable hum of displeasure resonating throughout the crowd. People complaining about how uncomfortable their costumes are, people complaining about how much they want to go home, people complaining about how much their nights have been ruined because they couldn’t meet up with their friends and—

A thought hits you like an eight car train.

You were supposed to meet up with your friends.

That’s why you were on the platform in the first place— you were waiting for them to arrive, but then the trains stopped working, and people just started pouring into the station out of seemingly nowhere (you think you heard some people say they’d come from the crossing?). Soon after that is when everything went to shit.

You check your phone, though, for once it’s not to look at the time (8:56PM). Instead, you open LINE to check your friends’ group chat. There’s no signal here, for whatever reason, so if there are any new messages, you haven’t received them. The last one was from Kei, mentioning he was enroute, but as far as you know, you’re the only one who made it to Shibuya before the trains stopped.

Did one of them maybe make it here though? Surely, you would have run into them if—

The image of a woman in a magical girl costume fills your vision, burning to death before your very eyes as her screams echo in your ears. It is the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve thought about her and your stomach churns violently. You couldn’t help her, you can’t even help yourself, so how could you even expect to do the same for your friends if they were here? The mere thought of having to watch them die over and over is almost enough to send you over the edge. You don’t know if you could do it.

Would you even have a choice?

No. You can't think like that. You have choices. You've had choices. If you didn’t then, you would still be down below, among the fire and brimstone. Dying, if not dead already. However, instead, you are up here, where, for the moment, it is quiet and peaceful.

That thought, in of itself, is enough to give you a shred of solace, a glimmer of hope.

You take a deep breath and fiddle with your phone a little more, changing your lock screen to a picture you and your friends took at a photo booth not too long ago. The four of you are huddled together, faces squished as if you're all struggling to fit in the frame, despite there being plenty of room. You're mid-laugh because it's the first time you've been in a photo booth in years, Mio and Shin are grinning mischievously and finally, Kei is smiling, but only just slightly, the embarrassment clear on his face. It's probably only been a few months since you all took this picture, but the fact that it feels like it's been years makes your heart ache.

You press your forehead to the screen, like a prayer, like a promise.

You will make it out of this nightmare.

No matter what.

A shrill scream yanks you from your thoughts and you are instantly on your feet, alert as your eyes flit around frantically to identify the source. It doesn't take long for you to find it and when you do, you think you might have stumbled upon a new layer of horror to this nightmare.

It’s not the corpse, dangling by a noose, that terrifies you— by now you’ve seen dozens upon dozens of dead bodies that the sight of just one more doesn’t faze you in the slightest. The thing that’s the most mortifying, that’s the most disturbing is that right next to where the body is tied are two girls, two teenage girls still dressed in their school uniforms.

You can accept monsters and weirdly dressed men being responsible for the carnage tonight, but children too? Both girls look like they’re barely in high school and try as you might to rationalize things, to chalk it up to coincidence, you cannot ignore the ominous energy radiating from them.

The very notion that these two children could have killed someone here is a hard pill to swallow, but so is the fact that you’ve died.

And you’ve had to swallow that pill thirty times now, so what’s once more?

“Listen up!” one of the girls yells over the crowd, but she is mostly ignored; you don’t think everyone here has noticed her and the corpse dangling from the rafters. She scowls and turns to the other girl and says something quietly to her. The other girl nods and almost instantly she’s stringing up another person, another example. You want to look away so badly, and yet you cannot bring yourself to and you watch the poor soul choke to death.

“I said listen, you dumb monkeys!” the girl shouts, and this time she’s caught most of the crowd’s attention. “If you don’t want to end up like these two, you’ll listen to what we have to say!”

There is clear dissent among the crowd, people dismissive as they utter their disbelief. Some seem to think it’s a prank, but you know better. It takes two more examples before the crowd goes silent before the two high schoolers.

“About damn time!” The girl roars and then points toward the atrium, which is currently covered by roots and branches. “All of you move over there!”

You have a bad feeling about this.

Still, you comply; the girls have made it abundantly clear that failure to do so will result in death, though, at this point, you're almost certain this iteration is a bust and death is all but imminent. You try to keep positive— thinking you can at least gather information or, who knows, maybe there's a chance that this one is the one.

Yet when you step onto the mound of vines and branches that cover the atrium it feels as if you've crossed the threshold into hell. Your footing is stable… but for how long?

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

It's faint, but you can hear the announcement from below. The liquid in your stomach curdles at the sound as you recall the train and, in particular, what is on board. Soon enough, those monsters will be swarming the platform, massacring everyone in reach, guzzling down their blood, feasting on their flesh—

It dawns on you that the people on the platform are the monsters' first course.

And you, and those around you here in the shrubbery, are the second.

As you realize this, the branches and vines disintegrate beneath your very feet and suddenly you are mid air— falling, falling into the abyss below.

You die for the thirtieth time.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

You've done this nearly sixty times now.

After countless failures, you've decided that you're just not going to go upstairs any more. No matter where you try to go, you still end up herded onto the death trap above the platform where you ultimately fall to your death. You've tried positioning yourself in the same spot, tried bracing yourself for the drop— but nothing seems to work: upon landing, assuming you manage to land without hurting yourself or dying in midair (which has happened a couple times) you get grabbed and killed by one of the monsters from the train. It's probably not impossible, you just don't have the physical prowess or reflexes for it.

If anything, you can try again later, but you sincerely hope you don't have to.

It's 8:32PM, and you have plenty of time to get to your chosen spot for this loop— it's close to the stairs, in the very center of the platform. Here, there's little risk of getting pushed off onto the tracks when the gates open. You'll probably have to move when the train comes, or even before (assuming you survive) to avoid the monsters, but you'll get to that when it's time.

You can't really see the fight once it breaks out after Satoru Gojo arrives, but you still try to keep track of it as best as you can. You see when he hurls both monsters across the platform and you're not sure if it's muscle memory or what but you have to fight the urge to move to the side and watch. It's been a while, yes, but you've seen the fight countless times before— it doesn't change. Satoru Gojo will give chase. He will rip the branches from the branch eyed monster's skull. He will use some kind of power to eviscerate them.

You don't need to watch, but there's something in you that wants to.

It doesn't make sense, you've seen it all before; if you're unlucky you'll see it all again.

The lights go out and people start screaming; Satoru Gojo is ending the life of that one monster. Soon enough he'll be back on the platform, in pursuit of the other. You think at that point it would be good to move, reposition yourself as far from the incoming train as possible.

When he rises from the tracks like a demon straight from hell, you realize it's the first time this loop that you've actually gotten a good look at him. You remind yourself, again, that this isn't the first time you've seen this man, this scene. You can't help but watch, but stare at Satoru Gojo as he stalks through the crowd in pursuit of his prey. His expression is an eerie sort of calm that's at odds with the acts of violence you've seen him commit— his eyes an unnaturally bright blue.

He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

The sound of the announcement sends your heartbeat into a frenzy, snapping you out of your little trance. The train is coming and you need to get moving. As you dart to the edge of the platform, the thought occurs to you that even if you avoid the initial wave of monsters, it's likely you will inevitably be caught by them and killed. It wouldn't be impossible for Satoru Gojo to turn his attention to them instead of the two he's currently facing, but he's just one man— can he truly defeat all those monsters?

You can see the train pulling in and you brace yourself, praying that it'll work out somehow.

The doors hiss open and the screaming starts again as the monsters come bursting out of the train, biting and mauling anyone they can get their hands on. Those who were lucky enough to not be at the front start to scramble away and the monsters give chase. Your body is taut, ready to try and dodge any that come your way.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice something moving through the air. A person? With blue hair? You take the risk to look— they're attacking Satoru Gojo. He tries to punch them but they fly away from him to dodge— disappearing into the crowd.

You hear a loud cracking sound over the cacophony of the crowd and your stomach twists; you know what that sound is. The roots above the atrium disintegrate and bodies from above start to rain down onto the platform.

And then, you're not sure what happens— it's so quick that you only manage to see what looks like an explosion of blood surrounding Satoru Gojo. Corpses litter the ground around him and even from here you can tell he is shaken by the carnage.

The monsters have finally reached where you're standing, and you duck under one as it lunges at you. Although it's big and scary, you realize it's moving kind of slow. Right after it another one comes at you and you take a side step to avoid it; this monster is kind of slow too.

Maybe you can do this.

As soon as you think that a strange feeling courses through you. Every hair on your body feels like it's standing on edge and the voice in your head is telling you to look at Satoru Gojo. You don't understand why because you think he's the least of your worries right now, but you do it anyway.

He's in some sort of stance, one hand raised to his face, fingers bent in some kind of gesture. There's some sort of aura, oppressive and frightening emanating from his form.

Satoru Gojo is doing something.

You just can't tell what.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are utterly confused.

Barring your first few loops when you weren't fully aware of what was happening, you have very distinct memories of how each of your previous iterations of this night have gone— of each and every one of your deaths. But for your last round, the last thing you remember was feeling the immense power radiating from Satoru Gojo's body, but that's it.

You do not remember dying.

In fact, you don't think you did.

And yet, here you are again, back at the start: it's 8:32PM and the monsters and strangely dressed man are standing on the subway tracks waiting for the arrival of Satoru Gojo.

You don't understand what's going on; you didn't die but you're still stuck in this damn loop. Up until now, your death has served as the trigger to restart the loop. It's not impossible that maybe you suffered a quick and painless death but you're almost certain that isn't the case.

Something else must have happened.

Something having to do with Satoru Gojo.

You have to find out what. If you don't, you won't know how to avoid it, and if you can't do that, then you really might spend an eternity stuck in this nightmare. And so you take great care to repeat the steps of your last round. You need to make sure to survive to the same point you made it to last time.

Miraculously, you do.

The moment you feel that sensation again, a prickling sort of feeling that envelops your entire body, your eyes are on Satoru Gojo— trying to figure out what the hell he's doing. His eyes are crazed with a desperate kind of focus. You see his mouth move— he's saying something. A spell? A prayer? A curse?

You don't know.

You do know.

Your brain feels like it's going to explode.

Again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

Again.

You do not know how many times it's been the night of Halloween in Shibuya: you stopped counting around the hundredth loop. It feels like it's been a while since then. Or maybe it hasn't? You don't know any more.

What you do know is that this night ends up going one of two ways before you are forced to repeat it. Either you die, in some way, shape or form or something happens just after nine that forces you to reset. You still don't know what it is exactly; you only know that Satoru Gojo is responsible for it.

You do prefer it to dying— it's far less painful.

But if anything, you wish you could just die permanently and never have to repeat this night ever again.

Unfortunately, you know better.

The only good thing you’ve noticed about all of this is that you really do seem to keep waking up earlier and earlier. The last time you checked, it was at around 8:30. It might take hundreds of thousands of loops, but eventually you’ll certainly wake up early enough to avoid this damn entire mess.

But by the time that happens… will your sanity still be intact? Will you really be able to go back to a normal day to day life after living the equivalent of hundreds of years, repeating the same night over and over again? You don’t even know how you’ve managed to stay sane all this time and as much as you want to believe you could do it…

There has to be a breaking point.

For both your mind and this time loop.

If you’re lucky, you’ll reach the latter first.

There’s a dull ache in your head that feels foreign yet familiar. Your mind is foggy, all your thoughts hazy as you try to recall what the word for this feeling is.

Groggy.

It feels as if you’ve woken up from a nap and you blink the sleepiness away from your eyes. When was the last time you took a nap? It’s been a while… You think you maybe tried once or twice, but you were too nervous, too on edge. Awake or asleep, it didn’t matter because, either way, you were doomed to repeat this nightmare.

As you think this, you realize that something is different.

You’re used to how the start of each loop feels like waking up suddenly and abruptly and it becomes clear to you that you haven’t looped. This is completely uncharted territory.

You need to find out what’s going on.

The first thing you notice is that it’s quiet. Almost eerily so, especially when the last thing you remember was screaming and chaos. You glance around you and find that it looks like all the monsters from the train are dead, the ground littered in their bloodstains and corpses. There were so many of them, you don’t know how someone could have wiped them out so quickly… Could it possibly have been Satoru Gojo’s doing?

More concerning than the complete eradication of the monsters is the fact that nearly everyone else on the platform is standing stock still, their mouths ajar with blank expressions on their faces. It’s almost as if their souls have completely vacated their bodies…

Were you like that too before you woke up?

You hear voices, and your body immediately goes tense as you turn your head in their direction. A little ways ahead of you, you see a man dressed as a monk conversing with the blue haired person from earlier and before them is—

Your heart nearly stops: it’s Satoru Gojo, restrained and on his knees.

Honestly, you can’t make heads or tails of the conversation they’re having; it’s more shounen battle manga nonsense. Satoru Gojo doesn’t seem to be enjoying their conversation either, and he interrupts them, clearly annoyed.

“Are we gonna do this or what?” he asks. “The view sucks and I’m just kinda bored.”

“I wanted to enjoy this sight for a little bit longer, but you are right,” the monk says. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen— gate, close.”

When he says that, Satoru Gojo’s restraints move, the weirdly shaped cubes at the ends of them closing in around him, trapping him in a giant red cube. It starts to shrink until it’s small enough to fit in the monk’s hand.

You gulp and hope they don’t notice that you’re awake. The fact that they haven’t slaughtered the rest of the people standing around you is a good sign, but you don’t want to find out what happens if they know you’re cognizant.

It’s not hard to play the part of a living statue, especially when you compare it to everything else you’ve had to suffer through on this night. You watch as the monk’s allies, the ones who had attacked everyone on the platform, wake up, but before they can do or say anything, the box holding Satoru Gojo slips through the monk’s fingers and makes a dent in the concrete. The look on the monk’s face makes it clear that it’s a problem he wasn’t expecting.

You don’t know a damn thing about Satoru Gojo, but you feel like this kind of thing is the norm for him.

The blue haired person suddenly looks in your direction and you nearly stop breathing. Have they noticed you? It takes everything in you to keep perfectly still, in hopes that maybe they didn't, that maybe they’re looking at something else. They raise their arm and it extends, their hand acting like some kind of projectile. You almost shut your eyes and brace yourself for impact, but their hand flies upwards and hits something on the ceiling, destroying it.

Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief— you’re still safe.

For now.

You listen to their following conversation and while you still don’t fully understand everything, it’s clear they’re talking about what to do next since they’ve taken care of Satoru Gojo. Something having to do with someone named Yuji Itadori? The group seems split on what to do about him but it’s clear he’s their next target.

Eventually, everyone but the monk (you heard the blue haired person, who is apparently named Mahito, call him Geto?) runs off, probably to find this Yuji Itadori person. Once they’re gone, Geto speaks and, at first, you think he’s talking to you, but it becomes clear he’s addressing someone else. “Those cursed spirits are actually smarter than the two of you.”

“Give him back!” a voice hidden among the crowd hisses. Your blood runs cold at the sound. You recognize it; it’s one of the high school girls from the upper floor.

“We cooperated with you fully and kept dropping monkeys for you,” says another voice; it must be the other girl that was with her, the one who hung all those people.

“Now give us back Master Geto’s body like you promised!”

“Don’t toy with Master Geto any further than you have!”

You blink in confusion. Isn’t the monk named Geto? The way the girls are talking it sounds like they’re talking about someone else… Is it possible that the body is ‘Geto’ but the person they’re talking to is someone else possessing it? It sounds kind of crazy, but then again, so is every single thing you’ve experienced tonight.

Your suspicions concerning this ‘Geto’ are confirmed only seconds later as he says, “Now begone, or is it your desire to be killed by this body?”

One of the girls vows her revenge and you hear shuffling somewhere else in the crowd as they scurry away. Now you think it’s just you and whoever it is that’s puppeting Geto’s body. You see him plop down in front of the box (the prison realm, you think he’d called it) that’s holding Satoru Gojo.

“You can come out, you know,” he says after a while.

You freeze. The rest of the platform is completely silent. This time you think he might actually be talking to you.

“I know you’re there,” ‘Geto’ adds, his voice casual. “If you’re insistent on hiding, you should know that I’m not afraid of using whatever means necessary to smoke you out.”

Given everything his allies have done, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s serious. You were hoping to hide out among the crowd until he decided to leave, but it looks like you won’t be able to now.

Looks like this loop is a bust after all.

Your heart starts to race as you weave your way through the crowd. In every single one of your loops, you were always treated like a bit character, never noticed or singled out by any of the major players of the night. Although this is your first time encountering this ‘Geto’ it’s clear to you that he’s involved with everything that’s happened here and honestly, you get the feeling he might actually be the mastermind behind the massacre.

That makes you even more nervous.

You come to a stop in the place where Satoru Gojo was once kneeling before he was put in that box. Now that you’re out in the open, ‘Geto’ looks you over with some sort of nonchalant curiosity.

“You’re…” he starts, sounding thoughtful, "not a sorcerer, are you?”

Sorcerer. You heard that term thrown around by him and his group a few times. It’s what they’ve been referring to their enemies as. It probably wouldn’t be smart to lie and say you are one; you get the feeling he’d see through your lie anyway. “I’m not.”

He hums. “How interesting.”

“...what do you mean?” you ask before you can help yourself.

“It’s just you have an abnormally large amount of cursed energy for a non-sorcerer,” he explains. “Though, I suppose that all just sounds like gibberish to you."

You nod and look down at the box lodged in the floor. It has eyes, big creepy looking eyes. "...are you going to do the same thing to me as you did to that man?"

He laughs, "...fortunately for you, the prison realm only holds one person at a time and I need him sealed away more than you."

"...does that mean you're going to leave him in there forever?"

"If I'm feeling nice, I might unseal him in a hundred years or so."

One hundred years? At this point, you've probably lived roughly that amount of time through your loops alone, but for Satoru Gojo… "Won't he die first?"

"Only if he decides to," 'Geto' says, looking completely and wholly unbothered. "Time doesn't doesn't flow in the box, so when I unseal him, he'll be the same as he was just now. Physically anyway. Who knows how deteriorated his mind will be after all that."

Time doesn't flow in the box.

The words echo in your mind over and over. Time doesn't flow in the box. In other words, that means time has stopped in the box, and if that's the case then—

"Anyway, rather than worry about him, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?"

You look at 'Geto' and he's smiling at you, it's friendly, but ominous. There's no doubt what is going to happen next, though you had already resigned yourself to this iteration being a bust; it was only a matter of time.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I was thinking I might keep you around, even if you aren’t a sorcerer, your wealth of cursed energy would serve my plans well," he muses. "But… it would be too much trouble trying to teach you how to use it in time."

As he talks, you realize this is probably the first time your death is intentional— every other death you've suffered has just been a byproduct of the ongoing slaughter. You were just another casualty, a victim, never a target.

You're scared.

Even though you know that once he kills you, once you die, you'll just loop back to around 8:30 again. You'll be on the platform again. And you'll play out some sequence of events before you eventually die again. And again and again.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

"I'll be nice, though," 'Geto' says, raising a hand and another monster appears out of nowhere. You don’t even bother trying to figure out from where. It doesn’t matter, especially since this monster will surely be the one to end your life. "I'll make it painless."

"...I appreciate it," you say and close your eyes hoping that he's not lying about it.

Time doesn't flow in the box.

He didn't lie.

You die again.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you're trapped.

You don't know how and you don't know why, but you are stuck in a time loop— forced to suffer through the horrific events of the night before you die and begin it all again. It's been a long time since you stopped counting how many loops you've gone through, but if you had to guess, it's probably somewhere in the hundreds now.

You are so very tired.

But it doesn't stop. It won't stop no matter what you seem to do. You are stuck. You are trapped. You are doomed.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

Ever since that first loop where you heard whoever is possessing Geto's body say that, the words have been stuck in your head, playing on loop.

You finally realize why.

“Time doesn't flow in the box.”

It's 8:25PM when you wake up; that should be plenty of time.

You need to find Satoru Gojo.

After hundreds of loops you've come to a singular conclusion: you need to prevent him being sealed in the prison realm. You've witnessed it enough to know that you won't be able to do it alone; you'll need his cooperation.

You rush upstairs as fast as you can, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine as you step onto the stairwell. According to your previous loops, Satoru Gojo arrives on the subway tracks at 8:40PM. With how crowded the upper floor is, you don’t know if you’ll have the time to intercept him and talk to him, but if you can at least figure out where to find him, then you can try and talk to him during a subsequent loop.

When you reach the fourth basement floor, however, you don’t know where you should even start. He’s pretty tall so you think you could spot him in the crowd, but… there are still so many people. It occurs to you that maybe it would be better to try and look from a higher vantage point so you head to the stairs that lead up to the third basement floor. You check your phone again. It’s 8:35PM; you need to hurry.

Luckily for you, you find him very easily on the third basement floor.

The only problem is that he’s in a hard to reach spot— squatting above a sign hanging over the crowd.

You check your phone again. It’s 8:38PM and he’s starting to move, presumably to meet with those waiting for him on the subway tracks. It’s good that you found him, but there’s no doubt about it.

You’re going to need more time.

The moment you wake up, you immediately bolt toward the stairs. It's taken many, many more loops, but you've finally brought the time you wake down to around 8:15. You're still not sure if it's enough time, but there's only one way to find out.

You barrel your way up to the next floor and zig zag through the crowd to get to the next flight of stairs. By the time you get to your destination, you're completely out of breath, your chest heaving as your lungs clamor for air. You’ve done this so many times, yet your body acts like it’s always the first. It sucks, but there’s nothing you can do about it. You slow to a brisk pace to catch your breath and check the time. It’s 8:27— a new record. Hopefully it’ll be enough.

The goal is to catch Satoru Gojo before he moves to his lookout point above the crowd. While not impossible, it would be difficult for you to follow him there. You eye the safety barricade that blocks off the area where he’ll be moving in just a few minutes warily.

Yes, getting over there would be extremely difficult.

You don’t want to think about it right now; you’ll deal with it when the time comes.

Especially since Satoru Gojo has now entered your field of vision.

Your heart starts to race at the sight of him and it feels like it’s beating a million times a second. There isn’t a lot of time. You need to talk to him, but your legs only wobble, your feet planted firmly to the ground. This is not good. You need to move. You need to move.

Finally, after what feels like both an instant and an eternity, your feet finally budge, propelling you in Satoru Gojo’s direction. The beating of your heart only grows louder as you make your way toward him, mingling with the single thought that’s echoing throughout your mind right now: will he even hear you out?

You need to make him.

“Excuse me!” The words nearly come out in a stutter as you realize that you are actually talking to Satoru Gojo. You have watched this man at a distance for so long that it almost felt like he wasn’t real, like he was just another fixture in this nightmare that you’ve been living for far too long. And yet, here he is, right in front of you, in the flesh.

And his attention is on you.

All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is actually a little overwhelming. Your mouth is dry and suddenly you don’t know what to say, but you need to say something. You need to say something before he thinks maybe you bumped into him by accident and just walks away without a word.

“I need to talk to you!” The words just burst out from your mouth and something about it is just absolutely embarrassing. You’re not sure if it's desperation or the fact that you haven’t really talked to anyone other than the existence occupying Suguru Geto’s body in nearly forever.

Satoru Gojo’s lips slowly start to form a smile, “Oh, yeah?”

The sound of his voice makes your mind go blank. There’s something different about it right now; more playful, amused even. Maybe it’s because he’s talking to you, a harmless human being and not a monster trying to kill him. It’s almost kind of jarring, but you know, with certainty, what Satoru Gojo’s voice sounds like. And the fact that he’s actually talking to you right now has you kind of excited. You nod, doing your best to not show how thrilled you are that he’s not ignoring you.

He hums thoughtfully, “Sorry… but unfortunately I kind of have some business to attend to right now.”

“I—” You start to say that you know that he’s headed down to the platform below to fight with…Choso and Jogo, you think their names are— you don’t know the name of the monster with the branches for eyes. “It’s— it’s really important!”

Gojo tilts his head a little, clearly thinking. You should probably say something else, something to try and convince him to stay a little longer and hear you out, but your mind is both full and blank. Where do you start? From the beginning? Or do you start with what is most important? Maybe you should say what you think will get his attention. You’re not sure, and you realize you really should have thought about this earlier because you’re running out of time right now.

“...mind handing me your phone?”

You stare at Gojo, completely and wholly confused, but he just holds out his hand expectantly. When you don’t move, he wiggles his fingers a little, a silent gesture telling you to hurry it up. Without thinking, you reach into your bag and unlock your phone before handing it to him.

“Kind of sucks that cell service isn’t working right now,” he remarks as he types something into your phone before handing it back. “But! Here's my number.”

You look down at your phone and, sure enough, Satoru Gojo has added himself as one of your contacts. He’s even added a little star to the end of his name. That’s… a little unexpected. Why his number though?

“Are you… hitting on me?” you mutter in your confusion.

He laughs, “Well, you said you had something really important to talk to me about, right? So just give me a call when you get home or some time tomorrow and we can talk then!”

You’re not going to make it home, or even to tomorrow, and neither will Satoru Gojo. As you start to tell him this, he steps past you. Desperate, you try to grab him, but somehow, for some reason, you can’t. You remember he did this with Jogo and the other monster, made himself untouchable.

This is not good.

He gives you a little wave, cheery as he says, “I’ll talk to you later!”

You watch, helpless as he hops over the barricade beyond your reach.

Gripping your phone tightly, you take a deep breath. It's fine, it's not like you didn’t expect things to go well anyway.

You'll just have to try again.

Every time you’ve tried to solicit help from Satoru Gojo, it has gone the same way. He just won’t give you the time of day, and in some ways you can’t blame him; he’s clearly here to deal with the monsters down on the platform. You’re fairly certain that he probably thinks that whatever is going on with you is a much lesser issue in comparison.

Plus, it probably doesn’t help that in the times that you’ve approached him, you haven’t been able to articulate yourself particularly well. Once you start talking to him, you just get hit with something akin to stage fright and the connection between your mind and your mouth just stops working. It’s gotten better with each attempt, but…

It’s just so frustrating.

It is interesting that Gojo has given you his number every time, star symbol and all. You’re not sure what kind of person you were expecting him to be, but after witnessing him literally and viciously rip monsters apart, you’d figured he’d be a little more somber. However, in the fragmented conversations you’ve had with him he’s come off as far more friendly and playful than you would have thought. Is he the type of person to get more serious when the situation calls for it? You can’t help but wonder, but ultimately, it doesn’t really matter.

What really matters is that you’re able to convince him to help you.

You have to convince him.

“Excuse me!” you say, stepping in Satoru Gojo’s path. You don’t stutter this time, and your voice is more sure. This is good.

“Yes?”

His head turns in your direction and you gulp. Gojo’s gaze, despite that blindfold of his, still feels just as overwhelming as it did the very first time you approached him. You have no doubt that he’s sizing you up, but there’s just something about it that makes you feel like you’re being picked apart.

You take a deep breath and step closer to him, hoping your voice sounds firm enough as you say, “I need your help. I’m trapped.”

He chuckles a little, “I know, but yours truly is on his way to go beat up the bad guys keeping you all trapped here, so soon enough you’ll be all free to go on your merry little way.”

Right. You were so caught up in your own plight that you nearly forgot that technically you’re not the only one ‘trapped.’ Satoru Gojo obviously knows that everyone else is confined to this station, but you doubt he knows that you’re confined to this night alone.

“That’s not what I mean!” you sputter.

“Then what do you mean?” Gojo asks. Should you tell him that you mean that you’re trapped in a time loop? You’re honestly not sure— in the movies and manga you’ve read about time travel, revealing that sort of thing risks creating a time paradox which seems to be a bad thing. If you have to tell him, you will, but— “Oh, I get it.”

You stare, bewildered. Did you maybe just spew all of that aloud?

Gojo gives you a mischievous smile. “You’re hitting on me, aren’t you?”

“No!” The word comes flying out of your mouth. You can’t deny he’s attractive— you’ve thought it all this time, but that is not what’s happening here.

“No need to be embarrassed,” he continues, ignoring you. “I totally get it, so if you want, I’d be happy to give you my number!”

Again? You’ve received Satoru Gojo’s contact details in every loop you’ve talked to him, star symbol and all— you even have his number memorized. There’s something kind of odd about how he keeps giving you his number. Part of you wonders if he’s got some sort of ulterior motive, but you haven’t thought too deeply about it. There are way more important things going on.

“I don’t need your phone number,” you say. “I need to talk.”

Your response seems to give Gojo pause. Did you somehow manage to get through to him? No way. Your suspicions are all but confirmed when he gives you that familiar apologetic smile.

“Like, I said, I’m sort of in the middle of something, but…” Gojo reaches into his pockets and rummages around until one hand fishes out a folded up piece of paper. The other hand keeps digging around in his pocket and when Gojo seems to give up on whatever he’s looking for, he turns his attention back to you. “Got a pen?”

What?

Gojo tilts his head. “Well?”

“I do, but…” You trail off, unsure why he’s asking.

He holds out his hand waiting for you to just hand him the pen. You still don’t get it, but you reach into your bag’s front pocket and pull out the pen and hand it to him. Gojo looks almost like an excited child when he takes it from you, quickly scribbling something onto his paper before shoving it and your pen back into your hand.

You look at the paper; it looks like a receipt. For a disturbing amount of mochi that Gojo bought earlier today. The amount of money he spent is almost sickening; way too much to be paying for mochi. More importantly, you notice something juxtaposed over the receipt’s print.

It’s Satoru Gojo’s name and number.

He even drew a little star next to his name.

“If you change your mind later, just give me a call!” he tells you cheerily. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”

You gawk at him. He cannot be serious. You literally just told him that you didn’t need it and yet he still gave it to you. He must want you to contact him later, but you can’t even begin to understand why. It can’t have been something you said or did, right? Unless, he’s actually—

“Later!” Gojo’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you notice him walking off with a wave.

You can’t let him get away.

Again.

You crush the receipt in your hand and rush after him. Despite the crowd, Gojo seems to move through the people with ease and it almost seems like they are yielding to him naturally. It’s good for you. Makes him easier to chase.

“Wait!” you yell, but Gojo doesn’t even look back. Bastard. Your muscles strain as you try to run faster. You know you won’t be able to grab him if you get to him, but there has to still be something you can do to stop him. Circle around him? Cut him off before he—

Satoru Gojo reaches the barricade.

“Wait!” you yell again. “Satoru Gojo, wait!”

He does not even acknowledge you.

You’re almost there though. Almost. If you reach out your hand, then maybe, maybe you can grab him. Something in your head tells you that it’s useless; you’ve never been able to touch him. But, you don’t care, you don’t care because you have to try. You stretch out your hand, desperate and hoping, but just as you do, Gojo effortlessly jumps over the barricade, moving to survey the crowd.

Due to your momentum, you almost collide into the barricade, but you manage to stop yourself. You stare at Satoru Gojo through the glass. He watches the crowd for at most three minutes. Is this just another bust? Is there really nothing you can do? There must be a way you can get his attention. Is it possible to climb over the barricade? No, it’s too high. There’s nothing you can grasp onto or use as footing either.

This fucking sucks.

Another minute or two and Gojo will be on the move again, and there will be no way you can follow, no way you can get his attention. You press your hands against the glass, pushing against it. Naturally, it doesn’t budge. Why would it? If only you could get it out of the way. If only you could break it. This stupid barricade is the only thing between you and Satoru Gojo and there’s no way you can climb it, but if only you could break it.

If only you could fucking break it.

Suddenly, the glass feels warm. Satoru Gojo’s image starts to look a little distorted as the warmth beneath your fingers grows. Something is happening. The glass starts to vibrate and shake. Violently. The tremors grow stronger and stronger. You should stop. You should back away.

You don’t.

The barricade starts to crack and fracture and soon the sound of shattering glass resounds throughout the entire room. Everyone starts screaming. No one knows what’s going on— not even you. But you don’t care. It’s gone. The barricade is gone.

You take a step forward, toward Satoru Gojo. He’s on a beam that’s about a two meter drop from where you’re standing. That’s fine. That’s okay. You can make it. You have to. Without a second thought, you jump—

And you land on the beam. You look up and Satoru Gojo’s attention is back on you. He’s finally, finally turned toward you, face twisted into an expression you can’t decipher or even comprehend, but—

Something’s wrong; your world is turning on its axis, but—

Satoru Gojo is looking at you, and—

Up is very quickly becoming down, and—

Satoru Gojo is coming closer, but—

You’re slipping—

But he’s right there, and—

You’re falling, but—

He’s trying to catch you, but—

It’s too late. It’s too late.

The last thing you think you feel—

—is Satoru Gojo’s arms around you.

It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.

And you are causing a commotion.

“Shit! Fuck!” you curse loudly. The people near you start to shift away but you barely notice; you don’t really care.

You were so close, so fucking close and yet… yet here you are again. It’s quarter past eight and you are back on the goddamn platform. You don’t know what happened; you remember falling and thinking you were going to die, but you are absolutely certain that, once again, this time, you didn’t die.

Is Satoru Gojo at fault again? Did he do something? Like he did all those other times you looped without dying? When you think about it more, you don’t think so. You don’t know what happened; all you know is that you tried to get to him, but you slipped.

And he caught you, you definitely remember that.

You still don’t understand why you looped, but there’s not much you can do about it now; it’s not like you can go back anymore. It just sucks, because you think he might have actually listened if you’d talked to him.

Or he would have come after you for… whatever happened with the barricade. It could have been taken as an attack on the crowd… But if he thought you were doing that, then why would he catch you?

You don’t know.

All you know is that you have to try again.

The only problem is that you don’t know how you managed to shatter the barricade. You think about it as you make your way up to where you’ll find Satoru Gojo. There is the possibility that it wasn’t you and something else happened to it instead, but that feels way too coincidental. It had to be you. That’s the only thing that makes sense. You just can’t figure out how you did it outside of wanting, wishing, praying for the barricade to break. It’s not like you have supernatural powers like Satoru Gojo and his enemies.

Despite your mind being completely and wholly occupied by trying to figure out how in the world you managed to break through that barricade, you still manage to make it to the second basement floor of Shibuya Hikarie by 8:25PM— a brand new record. Satoru Gojo doesn’t show up until around 8:34PM, so that gives you almost ten minutes to try and figure out what you need to do to try and replicate shattering the glass barricade again.

Except—

Except Satoru Gojo is already here.

The thought that maybe you’re mistaken flashes in your mind before it’s quickly dismissed; there’s no way you’d mistake anyone else for him. There is absolutely no denying it: that is Satoru Gojo. Bewildered, you double check the time on your phone. Maybe you misread it and you’re actually late but sure enough you read it right— Satoru Gojo is here early.

What the hell is going on?

Of the thousands of times you have experienced this night, this hell, this sort of thing has never happened before. Everything happens at a specific time, as if adhering to an unseen schedule. It’s likely that what happened in your last iteration did delay Satoru Gojo’s arrival onto the platform, but other than that there has never been a deviation to the time table.

And yet, here Satoru Gojo is, nine minutes early now.

You realize that that’s not the only thing that’s strange: he’s not moving. In previous rounds, when you encounter Gojo here, he’s walking to the lookout spot beyond the barricade. But, right now, he’s just standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. It almost looks like he's waiting for something.

Or someone.

This unexpected turn of events has you rooted to the spot. You’re not sure what you should do. No. This shouldn’t change anything. You need to talk to him. As concerning as a change like this is, the extra time it gives you should be a good thing. Despite knowing that, your feet are still firmly planted to the ground.

The crowd shifts and you see Satoru Gojo start to move. Toward the barricade? No. He’s not heading in his usual direction, rather he’s—

You stop breathing.

He’s headed toward you.

All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is absolutely mind numbing.

He comes to a stop before you, lips curled up to form an amused sort of smile as he says, “Soooo, you needed to talk to me?”

You try to answer but no words come out of your mouth. Are you dreaming? You have to be, right? There's no way that this is actually happening. Could it be that, after thousands of loops, you’ve finally lost it? Your mind shattering along with the glass of the barricade at the end of the last one?

Gojo tilts his head, indicating that he's still waiting for an answer. When you open your mouth, at first, nothing comes out, the words stuck in your throat. You force them out, your voice cracking, “...how did you know?”

He smiles, looking almost mischievous as he reaches up and lightly taps the side of his head. “I remembered, of course!”

All you can do is stare at Satoru Gojo. He remembered? How is that possible? From his perspective, this is the first time you’ve met and while it shouldn’t be possible for him to remember there’s something in your mind that’s keeping you from completely dismissing the possibility.

Gojo laughs, “I take it from the look on your face that you’re not used to this sort of thing happening. Is this the first time?”

“No.” The fact that the word is out of your mouth before you can even really think about it surprises you and you really have to think. Your face scrunches together as you try to remember. Is this really not the first time? Then, the memories assault you, overlapping as they replay simultaneously in your head— a woman in a yellow and white magical girl costume— begging you for help as she burns to death— smiling as she tells you she made her costume herself. “...it happened just once a long time ago.”

“‘A long time ago,’ huh. Sounds like you've been at this for a while now.”

“...unfortunately.”

Gojo hums. “So when you said you didn’t need my phone number…”

“You’d already given it to me a few times,” you say, figuring that’s where this conversation is going.

“Really now?”

Does he not believe you? Or is he just being an ass? You’re not sure, but since you had taken the liberty of memorizing Satoru Gojo’s phone number you recite it back to him to prove your point.

Just when you think you may have stunned Gojo into silence he starts to laugh, obviously finding something funny about the fact that you know his cell phone number. “Seems like you've got quite the fascinating technique there.”

Technique? What is he talking about? Your confusion must be plain on your face because he adds, elaborating, “The time travel.”

You continue to stare at him. You don't think you'd consider what you've been going through time travel, because traveling implies moving from point A to point B, but you've been stuck walking in circles at point A for a long time. What really gets you is… “What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“You mean you don’t— oh. I get it; no wonder you’re trapped.”

That does not answer your question in the slightest. “Can you please explain what you're talking about? What do you mean by ‘technique?’”

“Right, right… So basically, a technique is like a special sort of power,” he finally explains. “Like I said, your technique seems to be a kind of time travel. Whenever you activate it, your mind is sent back in time.”

What he's saying makes sense, but… “How come you were sent back too?”

He laughs again. “Isn't it obvious? Think back to before— do you remember that I caught you as you were falling?”

You nod slowly. The memory of his arms around you is almost embarrassingly vivid. “...is it because we were touching?”

“Ding, ding, ding! That's correct! Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!”

Something about his tone annoys you, but you try to ignore it. He could have just told you rather than make you guess. “How do you know that for sure?”

“Well,” he continues. “You’ve done your little time loop a bunch of times, right? If your technique affected everyone, or even a few people in a select range you would have noticed for sure. And if it affected only just you then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, now would we?”

When you think about it, you do think that the woman in the magical girl costume might have bumped into you before the loop where she remembered.

“That’s honestly just conjecture, but I've got pretty good eyes, so I’m hardly ever wrong.”

Gojo gives you a grin and while you do think that his reasoning is sound enough his confidence is a little grating. More than that, though, you’re glad that this conversation is actually going really well.

“Either way,” he says thoughtfully. “It doesn’t look like you can control your technique. Usually a person’s technique manifests when they’re a kid, but you seem to be a special case… in fact, I bet your technique activated for the very first time tonight— probably under some pretty extreme circumstances, too.”

“...dying counts as an ‘extreme circumstance,’ right?”

“Oh, absolutely. Or legitimately thinking that you’re gonna die, but it seems like your body has been unconsciously activating your technique as a sort of defense mechanism. Which is why you’re trapped.”

“So, if I could control it I’d be able to make it out of this time loop.”

“Yeah, but in this case it probably wouldn’t end very well for you,” he points out with a chuckle. “It’s not like you actually want to die, right? I mean, if you did, then your technique wouldn’t even activate in the first place.”

You don’t; what you want is for this night to finally end. To be free from the endless cycle of dying over and over again and again. You don’t think death is quite the answer; even if you were to learn how to control this supposed technique of yours, there’s no guarantee that you would just unconsciously activate it when the grim reaper comes knocking on your door. No, the answer is…

“Anyway!” Gojo’s cheery voice cuts through your thoughts. “I highly doubt that you’re the type that makes a habit of jumping off ledges for the funsies, so the fact that you’ve been dying tells me that some pretty gruesome stuff is about to go down, so, tell me what happens tonight.”

The sudden drop of his voice sends a shiver running down your spine. If it weren’t for the fact that you’ve seen how serious Gojo can get, the sudden shift in demeanor would probably freak you out a bit, but it doesn’t. This is the Satoru Gojo you’re familiar with.

You do have one concern though. “That… won’t create a time paradox or anything, will it?”

“Nah,” Gojo shrugs. “You wouldn’t cause one with the way your technique works, besides, if you’ve only been going back at most an hour or two in time it’s hard to believe you’d be making a really big impact… unless you really believe in the butterfly effect.”

You’re still not quite sure.

“Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

His voice sounds strange. Gentle. Kind. It's the most soothing thing you've heard in a long time and it makes you want to believe him.

“...okay.”

Anxiety is still gripping at you, but you try to dispel it, taking a deep breath before beginning your explanation. For the sake of brevity, it’s probably best that you’re as concise as possible. There isn’t much need to really get into the nitty gritty of things unless he asks specifically.

Naturally, you begin with his arrival onto the platform and how soon after a fight breaks out and how the crowd is unfortunate enough to be involved. Gojo’s expression is passive for the most part, but he does crack the faintest hint of a smile when you mention how he manages to eviscerate one of the monsters.

It disappears once you tell him about the arrival of the train. Between the dozens upon dozens of people being dropped onto the platform by those two high school girls and the hoard of monsters disembarking from the train, everything devolves into pandemonium.

“Wait,” Gojo holds a hand up and you pause. This is his first interruption since you started recounting the night’s events for him. “Everyone is able to see the monsters?”

You stare at him. What a weird question. “...yeah?”

His mouth twists and it looks like he’s thinking about something. You can’t even begin to imagine what. Finally, he comments, “Makes sense.”

It does not, but you don’t ask him to elaborate. Surely if it was important he would have just done so.

“Anyway, in the middle of all that, you… you do something.” Your brows bunch together as you remember the stance Gojo took, the crazed and desperate look in his eyes, the feeling of your head about to explode. “I don’t know how to describe it. At first, it would just force me to… activate my technique, I guess. But now, it just knocks me out for a few minutes.”

Gojo frowns and he rubs at his chin, obviously thinking about what you’ve said. Eventually, he raises a hand and bends his fingers into a familiar gesture. It’s the one that preludes whatever he does on the platform. “Do I do this?”

“Yeah.”

He hums. “Interesting.”

You wait to see if he’ll explain. He doesn’t. Great. Even if he doesn’t think you need to know, it certainly would be nice to. It’s annoying otherwise, but you ignore the feeling and continue. “I can’t tell you what happens when I’m knocked out, but when I come to everyone is basically a zombie and all the monsters from the train are gone. I think you kill them.”

“I probably do,” he says casually. “But what about Volcano Head?”

“...you don't…get a chance to kill him,” you say slowly. Gojo tilts his head, waiting for you to elaborate, but you hesitate. You have to tell him, you know you do, but…

You have seen the interaction so many times and though you don't know the exact nature of the relationship between them, you can tell that seeing Suguru Geto (or rather seeing his body) shook Satoru Gojo to his very core.

There's no doubt in your mind that he will not take this news well.

“Come on now,” Gojo's tone is light-hearted, unaware. “Don't keep me in suspense here.”

It's as if you're withholding the punchline to a joke. In a way, you suppose you are, but you don't think he's going to find it funny.

You take a deep breath. You need to tell him. The worst thing that could happen is that he doesn't believe you, but if that's the case… you'll probably just end up repeating this all again until you find a loop where he does.

Having made it this far, you'd like to avoid all that.

“Before you can get Volcano Head you get restrained by something called the prison realm,” you say slowly, “by someone calling themselves… Suguru Geto.”

The second the name leaves your mouth, there is a clear and obvious shift in the air. Gone is Gojo’s laid-back and frivolous demeanor, replaced with something more somber and almost frightening. The tension grows more and more palpable to the point that you think it might almost choke you.

You almost wish that it would.

“You can’t be serious,” Gojo finally says, once your words have fully sunk in.

“I—” You start to speak, but come to an abrupt stop when you see him shove his hand into his pocket to yank out his phone of all things.

The both of you know full well that there’s no reception here, but you don’t think that he’s planning on making any calls. Gojo scrolls and scrolls on his phone before he stops and shoves the screen in your face. It shows a picture of three people— a teenage girl with a cigarette in her mouth, a younger, happier version of Gojo sporting a pair of round sunglasses and—

“When you say ‘Geto’ is this who you’re referring to?” Gojo demands, using his other hand to point at the third person in the frame— a handsome young man with long dark hair pulled up into a bun.

“Yes, but—”

“That’s impossible. It can’t be him,” Gojo interrupts, his voice firm, cold even. “He’s dead.”

There’s a note of finality in his words that is definitely meant to leave no room for argument. It doesn’t stop you, though. Instead, you glare at Gojo’s stupid blindfold and say, “...being dead doesn’t mean a damn thing! I’ve died hundreds of times and yet I’m still fucking here, but—”

“Your situation is different,” he interjects, the temperature of his tone hiking up, his words like heated hissing. “I killed him almost a year ago. There's no way—”

“You didn't get rid of the body properly!” You cut him off, raising your voice in hopes that he'll take even just a second to stop and listen. It seems to work and you add something you remember ‘Geto’ saying. “You should have had Shoko Ieiri get rid of it, but you didn’t and now some… some kind of gross brain thing is possessing the corpse!”

The air between you both is silent as the grave. Though you can't see it, you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. He’s definitely having second thoughts about everything you’ve said so far. There’s a chance he might even think you’re his enemy now. You stare him down though, refusing to look away. You’ve made it this far, you can’t— you won’t back down.

“...you’re not lying, are you.” Gojo’s words are more of a statement than a question. There’s no doubt in your mind that he knows the answer, and yet he’s still asking. You wonder if maybe he’s clinging onto some vain hope that maybe, just maybe this all a sick, cruel joke that’s gone way too far.

“I’m not.”

Gojo holds your gaze for a second longer before he lets out a curse. “Fuck!”

“...I’m sorry,” you say quietly, mostly because it feels like the most correct thing to say at this moment. You don’t know the whole story, but it seems like they were close. If so, then it must have hurt Gojo a lot to have killed him, and must hurt even more to know that someone is desecrating the body. You hate that you, a complete and utter stranger, happened to be the person to tell him, but…

It had to be done, for the sake of getting past this unending night, it had to be done.

Gojo runs a hand through his hair and lets out a ragged sigh. “Okay. What happens after that?”

You give him a rundown of what follows; he gets sealed, the monsters wake up and all but ‘Geto’ leave in search of their next target. When you mention the high school girls demanding the brain give Geto’s body back, Gojo snorts loudly.

“Fat chance of that,” he says derisively.

You nod in agreement. It was clear to you that the brain parasite has no intent on giving it up any time soon. “After they leave, he… talks to me.”

“Probably couldn't ignore all that cursed energy you have,” Gojo remarks offhandedly.

You stare at him, expression twisted in a way that shows that you have absolutely no clue what that means. It should be fine for you to ask this one question; it actually concerns you after all. “What does that even mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, though… probably doesn't make much sense to you, does it?”

You give him a pointed glare and all Gojo does is laugh.

“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”

“...Like in a video game?”

“Exactly!” Then, Gojo tilts his head, clearly thinking. You don't bother asking; you don't feel like he'll explain.

“He does ask me if I'm a sorcerer, whatever that is. Is that why?”

“Probably. Ordinary people don't have even a fraction of the energy you're packing.”

‘Ordinary people’ he says as if you’re not an ordinary person who got caught up in all this supernatural sorcery bullshit. Or at least you were, but if the time loops are really a product of your own doing…

“Does he kill you when you answer?” Gojo asks to get the conversation back on track.

“Not right away. What happens next kind of varies,” you answer. “He usually lets me have a question or two before he kills me; I've asked him a couple different things.”

“Really taking advantage, aren’t you?” Gojo says and you're not sure what to make of his tone. Is he mocking you or is he easing back into that laid-back persona of his?

“If I’m doomed to repeat the same situation over and over, I might as well make the most of it,” you respond flatly.

“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.”

He’s definitely gone back to acting almost completely unserious— all signs of his earlier agitation are nearly gone.

“So what did you learn?”

“Well, the prison realm only holds one occupant. Once they’re sealed, time stops for them and the only way out is if the bearer unseals them or if they choose to kill themselves.”

“I see… And what about our body jacker?”

“He didn’t go into detail but he said something about… striving toward the evolution of mankind?” You frown a little at the memory. He didn’t explain further because he said that you wouldn’t understand.

“Huh. Interesting. Wonder how he was gonna go about doing that.”

“I don't know, but I can't imagine you'd like it since he goes out of his way to seal you into that box,” you say. “Said you’d get in the way because you’re too strong.”

Gojo shrugs his shoulders and grins a little. Cocky. “Well, I am the strongest sorcerer around, you know.”

You would think him overconfident if you hadn't seen the magnitude of his strength first hand.

“Anyway, that's as far as I ever go. When he's decided he’s done talking to me, he kills me and I loop back.”

“So, in short, what you want help with is getting past that point, right?”

“More or less.”

“And all I have to do is avoid getting caught by the prison realm?”

You nod.

“What’s it look like?” he asks. “A big cage with a bunch of metal bars?”

Now that you think about it, you haven’t woken up early enough to see it before it traps him, but you can’t imagine it looks that much different. “No.. It’s a small box with eyes… It gets big enough to fit you in it, though.”

“Huh.” He stretches his arms out above his head as if he’s trying to emphasize how large he actually is and shoots you a grin. “Should be easy enough then. I bet our body snatcher used the shock of seeing Suguru to trap me but since I'll see it coming, avoiding it'll be a piece of cake.”

Gojo makes it sound so easy, and maybe it really is as simple as that, but you can't help but be worried still.

“Don't tell me you don't think I can do it,” he says, tilting his head.

“It's not that,” you admit. “I'm just concerned I might die before we can get to that point.”

Truthfully, since you know that will just result in another loop you're less concerned with dying itself and more worried about losing the progress you've made in convincing Gojo to help you. Even though it's been clearly proven you can loop him as well, there's no guarantee you'll be able to make the physical contact needed to do it upon death.

“You've made it pretty far on your own, though, right?”

“Yeah, but… I’ve messed up plenty of times.” More than you can even count. “There's also the possibility that taking the time to talk to you might have thrown things out of whack.”

Speaking of time, you check your phone. It's 8:39PM. You curse.

Gojo leans over to check your phone. “Let me guess, I'm supposed to be somewhere right now.”

“Yeah, this is when you’re descending down onto the platform.”

“You know where I am down to the exact minute?” He asks and you tilt your head back and forth a little. It’s not exact per se, but it’s close enough. Gojo chuckles a little. “Man, I didn’t realize that you were actually that into me.”

That earns Gojo a glare from you, but he just laughs it off. “I doubt being a few minutes late is going to make a big difference.”

You certainly hope so.

“Don't worry,” Gojo says and you notice he's using that tone from earlier. “You won't die.”

It’s hard to argue with him when he uses such a reassuring sounding voice and yet, you still open your mouth to try— to voice your doubts, but what he says next silences you before you even can.

“I'll protect you.”

You think your heart stops beating in your chest and your words dissolve in your throat.

He grins at you. “Did you fall in love with me just now?”

That catches you a little off guard. You're willing to admit he's hot, but surely he must be joking. “How could you even think of something like that at a time like this?”

Gojo laughs again. “Well, since someone is so worried about their time table being all messed up, I better head down there; can’t keep Volcano Head and friends waiting, right?”

You blink. Is that it? “Wait, shouldn’t we make a plan or something?”

“Isn’t the plan for me to not get caught in the prison realm?”

Yes, but… “But what about me? Is there anything I can do?”

Gojo stares at you, or at least you think he does. “...I don’t know, is there?”

You’ve seen the encounter between Satoru Gojo and those monsters so many times and you try to picture a version of it where you intervene and… all you can see is yourself getting in his way. You’re no fighter, no… sorcerer, or whatever he is, you’re just some ordinary person that was unfortunate enough to get all caught up in this mess. The most you can probably do is kick the prison realm out of the way when the time comes, but otherwise… “...no, I guess not.”

His expression turns sympathetic. “You’ve done plenty by telling me everything that happens. So just wait up here, and let me handle the monsters.”

You almost nod. Almost. But then you remember what transpires up here above the platform. You know it sounds safer up here where you’re less likely to get involved in the carnage, but… “Wait, no, if I stay up here then I’ll fall to my death when those girls—”

Gojo laughs, interrupting you. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine.”

“How?”

“Just trust me.”

“I…” It’s hard to. After everything you’ve gone through it’s hard to trust in anything, to believe in anything. Even though you’ve made it this far this time, the worry that something will go wrong and that you’ll have to do it all again still lurks in the back of your mind.

Despite all that, you want to believe.

You want to believe that you can make it past this unending night, that one day you’ll wake up and it’ll no longer be October 31, 2018. And the first step towards that is trusting in Satoru Gojo.

“...okay,” you say quietly. “Okay.”

Gojo chuckles then asks, “Anything else before I head off?”

You start to ask if there’s anything you should say, in case things don’t work out, but you stop yourself. You’re choosing to trust him, to believe in him— you can figure out that stuff later if things end up going south after all. So, instead you give him a smile and it feels a little weird because you don’t remember the last time you did. “Good luck!”

For a split second, Gojo looks almost surprised, but then he laughs again, beaming widely at you. He starts to move past you and reaches out to give you what you think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and then he’s off. You turn to watch him go, the crowd, once again, parting almost naturally for him.

When he reaches the barricade, he pauses, raising his hand as if he’s giving you one last wave. Then he jumps over it onto his little perch and then less than a minute later he’s gone, descending to the platform below.

Now, all you can do is wait.

You check your phone again and it’s 8:44PM. If you remember correctly, the high school girls start threatening everyone right before 9PM. With Gojo’s arrival being shifted back almost five minutes, does that mean that they’ll be shifted back too? It would make sense, but you’re not too sure.

Out of habit, you keep checking your phone and at nearly 9PM, you hear the shrill voice of one of the girls over the crowd, commanding everyone to do what she says, her partner stringing up bodies until everyone listens. Everything plays out just as you remember it, which is mildly comforting, though you know that the events that happen up here are more or less independent from what happens below.

Surely, just as Gojo said, a few minutes aren’t going to change anything, but—

No.

You agreed to trust him. To trust that everything would be fine.

When the girls start to demand that as many people as possible climb onto the roots and vines covering the atrium your heart starts to hammer in your chest. In just a few minutes, all the foliage will disintegrate beneath you, and you and everyone else here will fall into the abyss below.

You are afraid.

There isn’t a single loop where you’ve really survived this fall. If you don’t die in midair, you die right after landing. It’s a death trap, and that’s why you’ve stopped coming up here. There’s a part of you, the part that knows what’s about to happen, that wants to try and run back onto stable footing. But you can’t, because you know if you do then the girls will kill you for sure; you have to stay.

It’ll be fine, you tell yourself, it’ll be okay.

You just have to trust Gojo.

An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.

You hear the announcement faintly below you. It’s almost time. You brace yourself and try to stay calm. Gojo said he would protect you, that you wouldn’t die. You don’t know how he intends to keep that promise, but all you can do is believe in his words.

It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.

The vines and roots start to crack and the ground beneath you starts to give out. You squeeze your eyes shut as that sickening weightless feeling overtakes you. It occurs to you that this is actually quite literally a trust fall— will Satoru Gojo really be able to catch you?

As you fall, you realize almost instantly that something is different.

You’ve experienced this fall dozens of times and so, even though it has been a while since you’ve gone this route, you are very familiar with what it feels like. Something is different. You’re falling faster. The trajectory is changing. It’s like some force, other than gravity, is pulling at you.

Is this Gojo’s doing?

Just as your body collides with the ground you hear the sounds of mutilating flesh meld with the screams surrounding you. Blood and severed limbs litter the ground, but you try to ignore it. You need to focus on your own survival right now. Quickly, you scramble to your feet scan the area around you; you’re on the platform right now and right in front of you is—

Right in front of you is Satoru Gojo.

His back is turned to you, his focus currently elsewhere. Looking at him you realize you recognize this scene, though it’s much closer and at a different angle. He’s about to do that thing, that thing that knocks you out.

Something in you tells you to move closer to him, after all, he used his mysterious powers to deliberately bring you closer to him, right? You rush toward him and as you do something he said earlier pops up in your mind.

Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!

Whatever he’s about to do… Is that his ‘technique?’ And if it is, would it work the same way as yours? If so, there’s only one way to find out: you need to touch him. You dodge monsters and other people as you run toward Satoru Gojo and—

A monster still manages to grab you, its large hands wrapping around your wrist. You try and yank it free, but it's much stronger than you are.

“Shit!” you hiss as the monster starts to pull you toward it and away from Gojo. What do you do? Your other hand is still free, should you try to punch it in the face? Or—

Before you can do anything, something blasts the monster’s head clean off. Shocked, you stare as the monster’s body slumps onto the ground, its grip loosening on you instantly. You whip your head around to find that while Gojo still has his back to you, his arm is bent back in your direction, his palm open as if he fired some invisible blast from it.

Then you feel it again, something pulling at you, but this time it's more forceful. Your body is yanked toward Gojo and the second you feel his hand press against you, you see him make that gesture with his other hand.

“Domain Expansion,” he whispers in a strained voice. “Infinite Void!”

Something happens and your vision flashes for a fraction of a second. And then—

The room is enveloped in an eerie stillness; all the violence and bloodshed coming to an abrupt stop. Monsters and humans alike stand like the living dead, unconscious with their eyes wide open as if they are staring into an infinite abyss. You recognize this scene, you’re familiar with it because it’s similar to the one you wake up to after being hit by Gojo’s ‘domain expansion.’ The only difference is the presence of the monsters, who are all but gone when you regain consciousness.

The pressure from Gojo’s hand is gone and he says to you, his voice still low. “If you’re squeamish when it comes to blood and gore, it might be best for you to close your eyes.”

And then he’s gone.

You do not take his advice. You do not close your eyes. How many loops were you unable to witness what’s about to unfold? A few hundred? A few thousand? And if all goes to plan, then you will never get another chance again: there’s no way you could possibly look away.

And what you see unfold before you is that Satoru Gojo was right.

He is the one to kill all the monsters.

It’s not as if you really had any doubt, after all, it seemed like the most logical conclusion to come to and yet…

There’s a difference between knowing and seeing.

All the violence resumes and the platform is engulfed in the sounds of carnage and slaughter once more. The lack of terrified screams makes everything more disconcerting— without them, all you can hear is the squelching echo of mangled flesh and blood splattering all over the place. You can’t really see him, but you can tell where Satoru Gojo is in the crowd as he leaves dozens upon dozens of decapitated heads soaring in his wake. Once or twice, he leaps out of the crowd and even from where you stand you can see the crazed glow of his inhumanly blue eyes as he massacres monster after monster.

Even though you don’t think you have anything to be scared of, you are still terrified: Satoru Gojo is no longer a man, but violence incarnate. You want to move closer to where Gojo gets trapped, but you’re afraid to. What if you get in his way? What if he kills you by accident?

Dying again when you’ve made it this far is definitely not ideal, but isn’t being killed by Gojo the best case scenario? Because then the two of you would probably loop together again and—

No.

Gojo said you wouldn’t die.

He said he’d protect you.

It’s hard to believe when he’s in the middle of a massacre, slaughtering monsters left and right, but you remind yourself yet again that you have to believe in him.

You take a deep breath and start moving, taking care to keep an eye on where Gojo is. You don’t know how long this is supposed to take, but you do know where he ends up when he’s just about done. The closer he gets to that spot, the sooner the prison realm will be unleashed upon him.

There’s a small group of zombified people nearby and you settle yourself among them. It’s not super close, but you think it's close enough that you'd be able to run over and kick the box away from Gojo if you have to. You do a quick survey to see if you can spot the body snatcher, but he's nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he hasn't noticed you moving around, or, if he has, he's more concerned with Gojo than he is with you. Given that you always seem to be the last thing he acknowledges, you'd like to think that he doesn't consider you a threat.

Which you're not, not really anyway.

The sounds of slaughter start to die down and you look to see Gojo approaching the spot where he gets caught. He looks beat, his eyes unfocused and his breathing heavy. You do another quick scan around him and notice a small box a few meters away from him, wrapped in what looks like paper charms or seals or whatever they're called. That has to be the prison realm— though it looks different than what you saw before. Gojo seems to notice it right after you do, his gaze honing in on it, examining it with some measure of bewilderment. Then, some invisible force slices through all the paper seals covering the box and it expands, the corners of the box floating up in midair to reveal what looks like a large sheet of dark red flesh with a large bloodshot eye stapled to the middle.

Disgusting.

If Gojo didn’t realize before, he seems to now, because he takes a step back, away from the grotesque thing. Good, good—

“Hey! Satoru!” Your blood runs cold at the sound of the body snatcher’s voice. He emerges from the crowd, smiling widely as he gives Gojo a wave. “Long time no see!”

Satoru Gojo’s entire body goes rigid. Shit. You told him, you warned him about what was going to happen, who he was going to see, but was that not enough? It’s possible that no amount of warning would have been enough to mentally prepare Satoru Gojo for the sight of the man he said he killed a year ago. After all, you know that there’s a stark difference between knowing and seeing. Even then, if Gojo doesn’t gather his wits and move now then he’s going to get caught and you can’t let that happen.

Your body moves before you can even think about it.

You scramble out from your hiding spot in the crowd and throw yourself in between Satoru Gojo and the prison realm. There’s no way you can kick it away from him now, not when it’s in this form, but maybe, if you get between them you can at least keep it from capturing him.

The eye quivers erratically, as it flits from Gojo to you. Every hair on your body stands on end as it watches you, the pupil dilating and contracting uncontrollably. You can’t look away from it, your own gaze fixed to your image reflected in the black abyss of the pupil. Something in the back of your mind tells you to stop, to get away, it’s dangerous, but you keep your feet firmly planted to the ground.

A second, or maybe even a minute passes and the prison realm shifts, its fleshy form morphing to restrain you.

The body jacker looks at you, his frown tinged with disgust. “Don’t you think you’re being rather rude by butting into what could have been a touching reunion?”

You scowl. Is he still trying to play the role of Suguru Geto?

He sighs and looks past you at Gojo. “Satoru, I thought bringing lesser sorcerers to fight alongside you was more trouble than it was worth?”

You hear Gojo snort from behind you, “It is… but this person here isn’t a sorcerer… Just like you aren’t Suguru Geto.”

The faker almost pouts and presses his hand to his chest as if Gojo's words have wounded him. “Satoru, I’m hurt, how could you say such a thing to your best friend?”

“Cut the bullshit,” Gojo snarls. “You can’t fucking fool me. You might be in Suguru’s body but I know with all my heart and soul that you’re not him.”

The corpse snatcher stares at Gojo, expression blank before he sighs once more. Then, his gaze shifts back to you, his eyes narrowed as he looks at you with sheer disdain. It feels as if you’ve been drenched in ice cold water. There's no smile this time but you already know what's going to happen.

He’s going to kill you.

“I intended to deal with you later since you seemed harmless enough,” he says, raising a hand to summon a monster— the same one he always uses to end your life. “But you’re in the way. So, I think it’s for the best if I just get rid of you right now.”

Instinctively, you try to take a step back but the prison realm’s restraints keep you in place. Not that it would have mattered much, even in the loops where you’ve tried to escape the faker’s monster, it still kills you, too fast and too agile for an ordinary human like you to avoid. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the monster to kill you. At least, it’s always painless.

Something touches your back.

Your eyes shoot open.

Before you is the monster, wiggling and writhing only mere centimeters from your face. It gurgles and snarls at you, desperate to fulfill its master’s wishes and kill you but it doesn’t move any closer. You stare at it with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

Someone behind you clicks their tongue— Gojo. You try to turn your head to look at him, but your movements are too limited, the most you can do is turn your head to the side. The sounds the monster is making start to change, sounding more frenzied, almost as if it’s in pain, and you flit your eyes in its direction just in time to see its entire body explode. The monster's guts and bright purple blood fly off in every direction, getting on the floor, the ceiling, the zombified bodies of the people unfortunate enough to be nearby, but not on you.

This is Satoru Gojo’s doing.

He steps in front of you, half turned towards you as he moves in between you and the body snatcher. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he loudly says, “Did you really forget about me?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the body snatcher.

Past him, the imposter scowls, raising his hand once more, probably to summon even more monsters, but Gojo’s quicker, and it almost looks like his eyes are glowing even brighter, the blue looking almost white as he whips his head in the faker’s direction. The sound of mangling flesh and breaking bones echoes throughout the room as Gojo, using that mysterious power of his, seems to break the faker’s arm.

The body snatcher hisses loudly and despite the fact that his face is twisted in very obvious pain, he tries to shoot Gojo a mocking smile. “Do you really think you can kill your best friend again?”

“I already told you,” Gojo turns to fully face the monster inhabiting Geto’s corpse. He tilts his head a little to the side and some force starts to squeeze at the faker’s neck. “You’re not Suguru.”

You hear a loud crack as Gojo telekinetically snaps his neck.

The head rolls onto the ground and you almost look away, but then you notice his eyes still moving, looking around. Is he still alive? Then you remember: the thing possessing Suguru Geto’s body was some kind of parasite. “Gojo! Wait! The brain!”

He reacts almost instantly, head turning and in an instant the skull is crushed and all that remains is red splotch on the ground.

You almost relax. Almost.

But the body is still standing.

Horrified, you watch as it quivers violently before falling to the ground. Then what looks like dozens of black spirits start to erupt from the corpse and the entire room is engulfed with a shrill howling.

What the hell is going on?

“Those must be all the cursed spirits he consumed,” Gojo explains uselessly, voice barely audible over the screaming. “Guess he was empty before.”

You don’t bother asking what he means. There are bigger problems right now. “What do we do?”

“No choice to exorcise them,” he answers plainly.

For him to exorcise them, he means. You both know that there’s not much that you can do. You still can’t move and honestly, you don’t even know if it’s possible to get out of the prison realm’s restraints. Not without dying. And if you die now…

Everything will have been for naught.

You’ll reset time and have to do this all over again— assuming you can even get to this point again.

There has to be something, you just have to think outside the box.

Or rather—

“Gojo!”

He glances back at you.

“You need to seal me in the prison realm!” you exclaim. He turns to face you fully, looking bewildered and you start to explain as fast as you can. “Those things are going to attack any minute right? I can’t move or try to hide and I can’t expect you to protect me the entire time and if I die then I’ll end up looping time again, but— but, if you seal me in the prison realm then that won’t happen.”

Gojo frowns, looking conflicted. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“Wouldn't it be easier if you didn’t have to?”

He tilts head and you think he’s conceding your point.

“Please,” you beg, staring at him desperately. “We don’t have much time. The other… cursed spirits will wake up soon too!”

You don’t have to explain that you mean Volcano Head and friends.

It takes only a second for Gojo to consider the very few options you have. “...how do you seal it? Do you know?”

“I think so,” you answer. “There’s no guarantee it’ll work but I think that if you say ‘prison realm, gate close’ it should seal me inside.”

If anything, it’s worth a shot.

Gojo nods. “Do you know how to break the seal?”

“I… don’t,” you confess. You never asked, and you don’t think the body snatcher would have told you even if you did. He only told you that it holds one and that…

That time doesn’t flow in the box.

“...you don’t have to break the seal.”

Gojo frowns, “Wait a sec—”

“Even if I make it past tonight… What if this all happens again? What if I inadvertently trap myself in another time loop?” you ask. “I… I don’t want to have to go through all of this again. It’s better for me in a place where time doesn’t pass.”

You don’t know for sure if it’ll be better, but right here, right now, it seems like the best option.

It feels like an eternity passes before Gojo says anything.

“...fine,” he agrees and you don’t quite know how to feel about it. The howling around you all grows louder. You wonder why the cursed spirits haven’t attacked yet. Maybe Gojo’s power is holding them at bay… for now anyway. You both know that he can’t ignore them forever.

“...before I do, though, mind if I ask you just one thing?”

You blink. “Not sure what I can do for you in this state…”

He laughs. “I just want to know your name.”

What an odd request. Though, now that you think about it, you don’t think that during this loop or any other loop really, you’ve ever told him your name. It only seems fair to tell him, since you’ve known his for longer than he’s known of your existence.

You tell him your name.

He nods, looking as if he’s committing to memory. Probably easier to remember than his phone number. “Any last words?”

You try to think of something. Nothing comes to mind and you just shake your head.

Gojo takes a deep breath, “Alrighty then… Prison realm, gate close.”

Just as it did the many times you’ve seen Satoru Gojo sealed away, the boxes and restraints around you vibrate a little before they start to close around you, growing large enough to fit your body as they approach.

You won’t see it, but once you’re inside the box will shrink and become small enough to fit in the palm of someone’s hand.

Will it be quiet inside?

In your final seconds, some words, some last words come to mind, and you say them, hoping that he hears them in time. “Thank you, Satoru Gojo.”

You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.

And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black.

It’s November 30, 2018— morning on the campus of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.

Satoru Gojo strides through the school grounds, casually tossing a small silver box with eerie blue eyes known as the prison realm up and down in his grasp. Walking at his side is Shoko Ieiri, a pretty woman who’s been unfortunate enough to have been Satoru’s friend since high school.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shoko asks, twirling a few strands of her long brown hair.

“What do you mean?” Satoru responds nonchalantly. “All my ideas are good ideas.”

Shoko hums in clear dissent, but doesn’t say anything more. Even she knows better than to try and waste her time trying to argue with Satoru. “I’m just worried about their mental state. Didn’t you say that time doesn’t flow in the box?”

“I’d be worried if it was some normal person,” Satoru says. “But after what they’ve gone through I think they’ll be fine.”

“...well, if you say so.”

The two arrive at their destination: the largest training area on the Jujutsu High grounds. Satoru places the prison realm at the center and takes a few steps back with Shoko standing behind him, in case anything happens.

He doesn’t think it will, but it’s always good to take at least a few precautions.

“Gojo, are you sure we should be doing this?” Shoko asks again. “Didn’t they want to remain in the box?”

“Of course I am,” Satoru says with his usual air of confidence before looking back at the prison realm nestled in the grass. He grins and then—

“Prison realm, gate open.”

if you made it this far. thank you. it's my sincerest hope that you enjoyed the ride. 3

[thriftedtchotchkes]

how do you sleep?

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel's always there to comfort you with his words and a warm bed after a nightmare, but tonight, you need a little more

warnings: 18+ MDNI, jackson era, soft!joel, comfort, undefined relationship, getting together, mentions of nightmares & insomnia, smut, unprotected piv, slow/intimate sex, creampie

word count: 3.3k

“Whas’wrong?”

You didn't mean to end up here again. It's the third night this week you swiped Joel's key from under the doormat and found yourself standing in his bedroom doorway.

"Can't sleep," you reply, barely above a whisper. Exhaustion seeps into your voice, permeating your limbs the longer you remain standing.

He already knows why you're here. Ever since you, Joel, and Ellie arrived in Jackson and were offered homes of your own, rest evades you more than it ever did on the road. It's too quiet here, and your racing mind fills the silence with the horrors of a life lived in constant fear.

You know you're safe now. You know that, but it's not enough to convince your body or quell the ever-present tightness in your chest telling you to run, to hide. Your fears are more potent in the dark, and the shadows creeping from wall to wall have sharper edges. Teeth that threaten to tear you apart and rip away everything and everyone you've fought so hard to protect.

The walls and floorboards creak with life that shouldn't be present in an empty, two-story home—too big for a single person, and yet still yours—and quickly begin to sound like impending death.

Nowadays, more often than not, you seek out a different kind of shelter. The familiar, comforting embrace of the man who kept you warm and protected through harsh winters and from monsters prowling in the night. That's where you belong.

Crisp bedsheets rustle in the dark and then you hear Joel pat the mattress twice—an invitation to occupy the space beside him, the one he always leaves empty just in case.

"Well, c'mon then. Hurry up," he grumbles, still half-asleep. But he isn’t frustrated. He's tired, just like you, and he'll probably sleep a lot better knowing both of his girls are resting soundly under his roof.

You trudge over and waste no time burying your face in his bare chest, breathing in pine and cedar wood shavings before exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. Throwing a leg over his thighs, you mold into him, rubbing your cheek into coarse curls and marveling at the calm, steady rhythm beneath you.

It feels good to be home. You're not sure why you let Maria give you an entire house to yourself when everything you could ever want or need was right across the street. Every time you end up back here, you wonder. And every time you leave, you wish you'd stayed.

He wraps you up in his arms and tugs you into his side, murmuring your name with soft lips that tenderly caress your forehead. They're so warm, just like the rest of him, and you find yourself aching to feel them on yours. It's a line neither of you have ever crossed, but tonight's been rough.

For what felt like days, you were forced to watch as your worst nightmares came to bloody fruition. You were dragged through the most brutal outcomes of events you already survived and could do nothing more than pray you'd wake up soon. When you finally came to and checked the clock, it had only been an hour and a half since you'd passed out. The moon was still high in the sky, taunting you with the promise of more. More dread, endless brutality.

Joel can make all of that go away, if only for a few hours. He always does, but tonight...you don't want to talk about it tonight. You don't want to think about it, about anything at all. You just want him.

You'd feel selfish asking for more if there wasn't already something between you. Something nurtured and gradual that's been building for months, beginning on your travels across the country and coming to an unignorable head here in Jackson.

Back then, it was stolen glances while you bathed together in streams and fleeting touches in your shared sleeping bag under star-filled skies. It's more intimate these days. He holds your hand when you're anxious, and you kiss away the frown lines and frustrated wrinkles that mar his skin.

Every day, you skirt the line between platonic companionship and whatever's starting to simmer below the surface. You're scared to hope he feels it too, but the thought of remaining in this undefined middle ground scares you even more.

The furnace drifting in and out of consciousness next to you radiates with an addictive heat you've told yourself to ignore for a long time, but it's quickly becoming an impossible feat. Pressed into his side, you're trying and failing not to writhe against him. But he's starting to notice.

His hips jerk every time your core drags against his bare thigh, a slow, repetitive grind you really shouldn't continue, but feels so fucking good combined with the slick pooling between your legs. You should stop—really, you should—but his breathing's changing and hitching, catching in his throat every time the growing tent in his boxers meets the friction of your inner thigh.

Then, he gasps something cognizant and urgent, and you know you've been caught. His hand snakes down to your ass and traps you against his side with a grip so firm, plush skin spills between his fingers.

“Woah, hold on there," he breathes out heavily, and his gaze drops to yours curiously. His eyes are wide open and alert, shining with the faint reflection of moonlight streaming through an adjacent window. Bright and yet pitch black as his sleep-addled brain struggles to catch up with his body. "What's goin' on with you tonight?"

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, debating whether or not to ask for his help. His expression is gentle but otherwise unreadable, and there's a chance this could go very, very badly. Maybe you'd be better off apologizing, but you don't want to. You're not sorry for needing him.

And the longer he waits for an answer, the more his body convinces you that he wants the same things you do. His hand is still on your ass, kneading as he urges you to rock into him, but he doesn't seem to realize he's doing it. Then, his thigh flexes and a rush of wetness coats your already soaked underwear. His expression falters, and you know he can feel it.

His voice is tighter when he speaks again, but that tinge of concern is still there. He wants to make it all better, but he can't unless you tell him how. Your hand tenses where it lies on his chest, and he covers it with his own.

"What can I do? Just tell me how to help you—whatever it is, I'll do it," he murmurs, brushing his thumb reassuringly across your skin. You tilt your chin up and suddenly you're close enough to breathe his air. Closer than you've ever been and yet still not close enough.

"I need you to...," Fuck me. But it sounds too crude. A quick fuck isn't what you need right now. You need to be full of him, to hold him deep inside you and keep him there for as long as this night will allow. "...make me feel safe again."

"Tell me how," he repeats as you struggle to bite back a moan. He's working you against him intentionally now, encouraging you up and down his leg, and it's making your brain go a little haywire. "What do you need, baby?"

"Joel," you whine at the endearment, an intense heat building at the apex of your thighs. That's new. You want to hear him say it again, to devour every word as he buries himself inside you over and over. You will him to understand. "I need you."

He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, steeling himself before nosing into the hairs at your temple. The gesture is so tender and affectionate even as he bucks into your thigh, and it's painfully obvious how hard you're making him. He nods slowly and plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his chest rising and falling more rapidly than before.

"Okay, baby. I got you," he murmurs, his lips trailing down to your eyelids, then the apple of your cheek. "I'll make it all go away, alright? M'gonna take care of you."

And you believe him. He rolls you onto your back and you gasp as his entire weight presses you into the mattress. It's more than just comforting. You feel protected. He's shielding you from this horrible, broken world, somehow managing to prove that there's still goodness to be found. And it's on top of you, broad and strong, and wanting you just as badly as you want him.

Big hands cup your cheeks and his lips meet yours, so much different than the familiar press against your forehead or the top of your head. You're in unknown territory, but he guides you carefully and moves slowly, taking the time to explore and savor. The taste of spearmint begins to overwhelm your senses as the kiss deepens, and you lick into his mouth impatiently, already craving more.

But after years of quiet observation, Joel knows better than anyone how to temper you. Ducking down to bury his face in your neck, he kisses along the underside of your jaw, regaining control of the pace with a sharp, halting suck. And while he refuses to let your urgency rush him, he still allows your hands to roam his skin and tug at his boxers, letting you take what you want—like his only goal is to make sure this lasts long enough for him to fulfill his promise.

A disgruntled groan bubbles in your throat, and you feel him chuckle. "Y'know, patience is supposed to be a virtue," he mumbles, amused, his beard scratchy and grounding against your skin. You huff in response.

Tonight doesn't feel like a night for virtues. Not when things are finally changing in your favor. After so much time, so much running, you actually have somewhere to go—and stay. You're not running away anymore. You're moving towards something that feels real, and dependable, and safe, and you're doing it together. And now that you're so close you can taste it, you're done waiting.

"You're really gonna start caring about virtues now?" you ask skeptically, slipping your hands past the waistband of his boxers to grab his ass.

He hesitates, then huffs out a quiet laugh. "Fair enough."

And with that, you both know the time for talking is over. Something shifts and you're on the same page, ready to take as much as the other is willing to give.

Joel begins to drag your shirt up to reveal more, but suddenly feeling stifled, you take over and remove it completely. The look on his face makes it more than worth it. It's not the first time he's seen you naked, but as his eyes rake over your bare curves, it feels like it could be. Reverently, he returns his lips to yours, kissing you deeply before charting a path lower.

His mouth feels hot as he laves and nips across your collarbone, and he shimmies further down the bed until he's just barely ghosting the swell of your breasts. You gasp, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a bruise below your nipple and soothes the sting with his tongue. Licking a wide stripe past the darkening mark, he captures the bud between his teeth, another hand sliding up your stomach to cup your other breast while he alternates between swirling and sucking.

Your entire body feels like it's on fire. The ache between your thighs worsens the longer he continues, but instead of squeezing them together for relief, you wrap your legs around his waist and tug him onto you. By now, you're so wet, there's no way you're not soaking right through your underwear and into his boxers, and you hope he can feel it. If your increasing volume isn't enough of an indication that you need him inside you, then maybe this will be.

He lets out a pained groan into your chest, and you clench in satisfaction. He immediately grinds down, thrusting into you like he's forgotten about the layers of clothing still separating you. You don't bother to remind him.

Bucking him off, you quickly wrench down your underwear then reach for his, yanking them off while he sheds his t-shirt. Your fingers close around his cock before his shirt hits the floor and he startles before melting into your grip, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting around a cross between a sigh and the neediest whine you've ever heard.

You feel that telltale whoosh between your legs again, and after pumping him a few times, you guide him toward your entrance. In the back of your mind, you know you're taking a risk without a condom. You should be safer, more responsible. But it's Joel. It's always been Joel.

His eyes shoot open once he realizes where you're leading him, but you only bite your lip and nod, your expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. An unspoken agreement passes between you, a quiet understanding cultivated through years of friendship and now something more. Then, he presses inside and your mind goes blissfully blank.

No more horrors, no more fear. Just Joel keeping his promise and doing exactly what you trusted him to do. He encompasses you entirely, pressing the length of his body flush against yours as he works himself into you. The stretch was nothing you ever could've anticipated, but it grounds you in the present moment. It's everything you told yourself not to hope for when you showed up on his doorstep tonight.

His movements are slow but powerful, and he rests his forehead on yours, eyes alert and acutely aware of every change in expression. The intensity of his gaze and the slick sound of him burying himself to the hilt should make you self-conscious—it's all you can see and hear, but that's the point, isn't it? To get lost in the way he drags so perfectly against your walls and grinds his hips into yours on every thrust, slow and steady.

He's attentive, cataloging whenever he makes you moan a little louder or your eyes roll, and repeats it again and again until you're writhing underneath him. Your nails rake down his back and scratch at his scalp, and he jerks forward whenever you're a little too rough, hitting so deep, it feels like he's grazing your cervix. But the longer he continues to give you everything you want, the more his body trembles with the effort of holding himself back.

You know Joel, and you can tell when he's resisting an urge. His biceps tense where he's propped on his forearms, bracketing your head, and there's so little space between you, you can feel his abs flexing every time he plunges back inside you. He needs more and you want to give it to him.

Lifting your head, you bridge the tiny gap to meet his lips. "Joel, c'mon. You can fuck me harder than that, I'm not gonna break," you mumble between open-mouthed kisses. That catches him off guard.

He accidentally lets himself go for a thrust or two, and you're cut off by a moan, your walls squeezing him so hard, it's painful. Somehow, you manage to recover just long enough to gasp out the rest. "It's okay if you need something from me, too. Just take it. I trust you."

For an agonizing moment, Joel pauses to observe you, waiting for something in your eyes to contradict the permission you just gave him. But when he doesn't find it, he shakily exhales the breath he'd been holding and his head drops to your shoulder. The groan that follows rumbles so deeply in his chest, it makes your stomach drop. Then, without warning, his hands are gripping your thighs and he's rutting into you like a caged animal finally set free.

There he is. The man who never hesitated to gun down anyone who threatened the safety of his loved ones and did whatever it took to bring his girls home.

Recognition washes over you and fills you with a familiar feeling of security. It's something only Joel has ever been able to give you. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his hair, hoping to return even a fraction of that feeling.

As he gives into his body, he starts to ramble, his words muffled and lost to your delicate skin. But you don't need to hear him to know what he's saying. With every thrust, the bed frame rattles and gets the message across loud and clear. Your heels dig into his back, encouraging him forward, begging him to keep going, and he obliges, quickly reduced to helpless grunts and curses.

The room gets increasingly hotter and more humid, and the cool air flowing through the window isn't nearly enough to provide relief, but neither of you seems to care. You're a little in love with the way your bodies slip together, sweat and slick intermingling seamlessly.

Everything is so wet, and it feels incredible—your skin against his, your walls pulsing around his cock. He's molding into you, so close that you can't do much more than swivel your hips into his, and it's sending you hurtling toward the edge faster than you can fully process. The coarse hair at the base of his cock rubs your clit just right, and when he adjusts the angle to fuck you deeper than before, you hit your peak.

You dissolve into a whimpering mess beneath him, desperately riding out your orgasm as he groans and abruptly bites down on your shoulder. Releasing your legs to grab your waist, he forces himself impossibly further inside you and grinds into your spasming walls until he's coming with you. He gasps his way through it, stilling while he lets you milk him dry, then collapses on top of you and gathers you in his arms.

For a while, you both struggle to catch your breath. The mattress is bare save for the fitted sheet, your clothes, pillows, and blankets having been kicked or tossed onto the floor. It feels nice like this—to savor the winter air cooling your bodies and to just be held. Without letting you go, Joel lifts his head to kiss the teeth marks he left on your shoulder apologetically and then shifts higher to press his lips against the underside of your jaw.

"You alright?" he asks gently, his voice a little gruffer than usual from the exertion.

"Mhm," you hum, nosing into his temple. "More than." He sighs and almost sounds relieved.

The thought makes your heart ache. If he's worried he crossed a line, well. He did. You both did, but it was a long time coming and you don't regret a thing. You squeeze him a little tighter as if to tell him, and he allows himself to melt into you briefly. Then, he draws back to cup your cheek and guide your lips to his.

He kisses you slowly, taking the time to appreciate the sensation of your mouth against his without any urgency. "Feel better?" he murmurs after reluctantly parting from you. You keep him close.

"I don't think we have to worry about any more nightmares tonight," you reply with a small smile. He returns it, eyes crinkling fondly, then rolls you onto your sides to settle in for a good night's sleep.

As you start to drift off, you hear him chuckle and mutter something under his breath that you don't quite catch. But it sounds a lot like, "Might be time for you to finally move in."

thanks for reading!

[prkhaven]

DAD AND DOLLARS -p.js-

pairing— dad!jay x money struggling fem!reader

synopsis: The hot rich dad next door needs a babysitter? Sign you up.

genre: smut minors do not interact, dilf au, slight age gap (jay is in mid 20s while reader is in early 20s), p with plot, p with feelings

wc: 12.9k

-all warnings below cut-

warnings: slight jealously, profanity, kissing, alcohol consumption

smut warnings: unprotected sex (just don’t that), p in v, praising, dirty talk, oral (fem rec.), fingering, squirting, breeding kink, creampies, usage of nicknames (doll, good girl, sir)

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You looked dead center at your laptop to see the ridiculous total number summed up. Over thousands of dollars of student debt is yet to be paid off and you’re not even halfway done.

You closed your computer shut because if it was out of sight it was out of mind, at least for the time being. You sighed, rubbing your temple hoping to soothe the ache forming but the sudden loud beeping of a truck backing up disrupted your train of thought.

The annoying blaring sound only worsened your headache that it felt like it was going to explode any second. Your eye twitched, you were already running on 2 hours of sleep, you hoped to at least get some sleep in before working until late in the night.

Standing up from your table, you walked over to the small window that allowed just enough space to see outside but your eyes narrowed seeing someone’s back quite literally blocking your view. You quietly mumbled under your breath before wacking open your door.

You currently were in no mood to deal with any solisticing today.

“Look-” You began but quickly stopped when you see the scene before you, a man—a hot man at that, not much older than you or at least you assumed carrying a little girl who resembles him

His hair perfectly combed back showing off his forehead and neatly done undercut with his sharp jawline that looks like it could quite literally cut you in half, a nose bridge all tall and mighty as he wore a simplistic nude pink button up that managed to make your knees weak.

Not a lot of people can’t pull that color off but he sure as hell can.

What stood out to you the most was the jewelry that shone in the sunlight blinding you. Just from the mere pieces of jewelry alone, you could practically feel the success flowing through and out of him.

The jewelry the little girl wore outcompeted each and every single one you could ever own. And yet, that wasn’t enough to make you peel your eyes away. You hadn’t realized how long you’ve been staring until the said little girl pointed it out.

Embarrassed, you finally looked away and the mysterious man cleared his throat. “Ah, if you'll excuse my daughter”

Wait what. Daughter?!

You held yourself back from dropping your jaw. Even though you were assuming he wasn’t much older than you, he already has a daughter, a young one at that and you’re over here stressing over student debt. What stressful time you must be having.

“We’ve been up since this morning moving in, so she is a little antsy. Please do forgive us for disrupting you”

Anyone would be if they’ve been up since morning to mo- Wait Moving in?

It must’ve shown on your face because the male in front of you lightly chuckled but it wasn’t like the usual chuckles that you hear from other guys. It was rather deeper, more mellow and rumbled out of him and it twisted your insides out.

“We’ve just moved in next door” He adjusted his daughter into one arm hoisting her up with ease while his free hand extended a hand to shake with yours, “Pleasure to meet you, I’m Park Jongseong”

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Another exhausting day, another terrible pay.

You’re genuinely wondering how you’re going to manage to just make it by this upcoming month without falling into a hole and never coming out of it.

Your current job isn’t nearly enough to cover all your expenses in the slightest but there’s such a shortage of job opportunities that you’re stuck there until some miracle falls into your lap and presents you with all the answers to your prayers.

Rubbing your shoulders, you twist your head side to side to feel the crack of your neck relieving you from the tension in it but that’s when you hear the deep faint voice that’s been taunting your mind ever since you’ve heard it.

Before you could even prepare yourself or more like jam your keys into the lock to rush in before getting caught you hear the small greeting for you, “Hi miss!” You nervously gulp before turning around replacing your mumbled breath with a sweet smile towards the little girl holding her dad’s index finger with her small hand

“Well hi there!” You cheerily returned her greet with a fast wave, your eyes remained trained on her not daring to look up to her father hoping there would be no interaction between but the universe was not in your favor today

“Coming back after a long day?” His voice filled your mind again and you held back a nervous smile not trusting yourself to speak only left you to nod at his words

Your eyes rose higher until you caught him and he gave a tight smile and you swore your heart might’ve exploded right then and there. It was something so simple yet it had your mind reeling.

You awkwardly touched your neck making it seem like it was sore when in reality you were making sure you still had a pulse.

“Say goodbye honey, she’s had a long day at work. I’m sure she needs some rest” Jay softly spoke to his daughter who looked up to your shaky eyes and raised her hand to wave goodbye to you

Your heart melted as you happily waved goodbye to her.

Too caught up in the moment, you seemed to have forgotten the very man you were successfully ignoring for those few seconds his daughter had your attention, “Make sure to rest well”

Before you could register the words, they were already walking past you in hushed whispers. Your mouth hung open trying to figure out a response that didn’t embarrass you.

“Thank you Jongseong. Same to you” You opted to say through the few second turmoil and when he turned around hearing your voice, it’s corny to admit but it was like slow motion

Everything seemed to be forgotten about as you were solely focused on him. The earrings that hung from his ears, his folded up sleeves exposing his forearm and watch until you saw his beautiful smile. A warm genuine smile.

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“Woah- Hold on. You mean to tell me that good looking man I saw on my way here was your neighbor?!” Your friend shrieked once you broke the news to her

Supposed to be an important study session for your upcoming exam somehow turned into a 3 hour talking session, laptops and papers discarded.

You groan at your friend's words, hate having to be reminded that he was indeed your neighbor. So close yet so far from you.

“He dresses so damn good, looks like he has a lot of” Your friend rubbed her fingers together with raised eyebrows making you roll your eyes, “Plus I saw him with his little sister, he’s such a good brother”

“That’s his daughter” You unconsciously said and you didn’t realize until you took notice of the silence from your friend who stared at you like she had just seen a ghost

“You mean to tell me that was his daughter with him..?” You nodded your head and your friend nearly fell off of her chair at the sudden revelation, “Holy shit… You’re living next door to a dilf!” Your friend screech as she stumbled in her seat over to you

You jumped when she clasped your hands into hers, hopeful eyes staring directly into you with a certain mischievous gleam you knew far too well.

“So when are you getting on that?” Your friend raised an eyebrow and you shot her a confused look

“Getting on what?”

Your friend had to take a minute or so to just look at you in amusement but not in a good way.

“You mean to tell me you haven’t even thought about getting together with him ever since you saw him?!”

You yanked your hands away before lightly pushing her away shaking your head. “He’s either married or at least seeing someone” You said trying to make it believable for yourself more than for her—but you always noticed the lack of band on his ring finger every time you saw him or any sign of anyone else living with him besides his daughter

“I didn’t see any ring on his finger” Your friend shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head to the side

So he must be seeing someone. Because there’s no way that he is single and roaming the streets just like that.

You quickly went to grab your discarded laptop to move on from the topic. This was enough talking for today about your undeniably hot neighbor who just so happened to be a dad.

Your friend suddenly slammed your laptop shut. “What are you doing?” You asked but saw her finger pointed directly towards you

“No bigger question is what are you doing” Emphasizing the you in her sentence

You stared at her dumbfounded, making her groan in annoyance.

“When was the last time you went on a date?” You opened your mouth to respond, “I mean an actual date” You closed your mouth right up

“Exactly! It’s been so long since you’ve been treated, why not indulge in this nonsense just a little” She squished her thumb and index finger together showing basically no space in between them

“In case you forgot, I’m a broke student trying to get by till the end of this month. I don’t have ti-”

“Yeah yeah I know. You don’t have time. You don’t have the money. You don’t have new or fancy clothes” Your friend cited the same excuses you’ve given to excuse yourself from anything thrown your way, “But don’t let it stop you this time. I have a good feeling about this one” She softly hummed with a soft smile hoping you take her words truthfully

“He’s most definitely seeing someone” You softly muttered

“And if he’s not?”

The question made you think. Even if there was the slimmest chance that he was in fact single and was not seeing anyone, why would he look your way? You don’t have much to offer.

“He’s a dad” You reminded but her soft smile dropped into something more menacing

“Well that’s just the cherry on top, no?”

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“What would I do without you?” Your friend chimed, wrapping your sweater over her, it was well past midnight and you finally concluded your study session after all this time and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep

“You’d be walking yourself out in the freezing cold” She chuckled at your response knowing it was the truth but she happily skipped ahead but stopped in her tracks raising and hand up to stop you

Before you could ask anything, she pulled your arm to where she is and that’s where you see Jay. His little girl fast asleep in his arms, her puffy cheeks squishing against his broad shoulder as he carefully closed the door shut wanting to make as minimal noise as possible.

He locked the car and stuffed his keys into his trench coat and right when he turned he caught sight of you and your friend looking, he furrowed his eyebrows immediately noticing how you weren’t wearing a sweater even though you were clearly cold from the shiver you let out.

Instantly you gave a quick smile to him not sure why he furrowed his eyebrows towards you but he kindly returned your smile with his own before walking past you and your friend still making sure his daughter was still fast asleep.

As he walked past you caught a whiff of his musk cologne and you wholeheartedly wanted to delve straight into it. It made your head woozy, it wasn’t strong enough that it was overbearing but it was strong just enough that made sure his presence was embroidered into your mind even when he was long gone.

“Oh” You heard your friend murmur and you turned to look at her dazed expression staring at where he once stood at the side of his car, “You actually got a double D living next door”

“Double what?” Pure confusion written over your face and she rolled her eyes as if it was the most known thing in the whole wide world

“Hello, a double D! A father who has money. Dad and dollars!”

You’ve just had a revelation.

“You my friend have a hot and rich double D living next door to you”

“You’re unbearable” You scoffed but you gasped when she lightly hit you

“That’s you”

“But I am being so serious right now, you better get on that man before I do” Before you could retaliate her sentence you heard faint shuffling coming towards your direction and to your surprise, you turned to see Jay coming back minus his daughter

“Oh” He stopped in his tracks seeing you and your friend, “You’re still here?” It easily could be mistaken as a harsh slap to the face but his tone was soft and gentle that there was nothing to it besides true curiosity

You opened your mouth praying that something coherent would come out but your friend knew better than to trust you and let you figure it out on your own. Especially when he was right there.

“She was just being such a kind friend and walking me out” Your friend softly patted your back and you mentally cursed at how cold her hands were against your thin covered back

“What about you? Coming out again?” Your friend tilted her head and you had to hold yourself back from dragging her away

“Have to bring the grocery up” Jay lightly waved the car keys before unlocking his car as the trunk slowly opened

“We can help you!” Your friend suddenly chimed in and you felt all color drain from your face, you just weren’t sure if it was from the cold finally getting to your numb face or how he stops walking and turns around

“You want to help?” He raised an eyebrow and your friend eagerly nodded and threaded closer to him, when his eyes moved from her onto you wanting to see if you were coming along you remained frozen in place

All the time you were merely in his presence, your body shut down on you as you became just a hollow vessel. He expected a response—any response from you but when he was received with nothing his lips formed a thin line and nodded his head.

“W-wait of course she’s going to help” Your friend awkwardly chuckled before walking back over to you, “It must be the cold getting to her. Silly her for not wearing a sweater”

You came back to your senses when your friend smacked your arm and you winced feeling how your spiky skin was far more sensitive to touch from how long you’ve been out there.

Yet, you didn’t have any chance to collect yourself as she dragged you with her in front of him as she gleamed with a smile. He blinked at the sudden appearance of you in front of him while you gulped harshly trying to keep your thoughts sane.

Even up close, your eyes looked over his face, never able to settle on a single feature until you landed on the slightly chapped lips but moved your eyes up to catch his eyes. Under dim lighting he looked phenomenal.

“Alright let’s get those groceries” Your friend peeped

You looked away from him down to the ground before softly nodding your head. You were going to help gather some bags but you stopped when you felt a weight place around your shoulder. You looked down to see the trench coat over your body.

Turning to face Jay, he gave a gentle nod. “You need it way more than me” His voice rumbled throughout your mind earning the gears to shift inside you by his voice and gesture alone

His eyes examined you in his coat before softly smiling to himself at his thoughts, “Next time make sure to bundle up before going out. You can catch a cold easily”

The cold that was once lived in your body faded away into pure warmth and it was all thanks to your neighbor living next door.

It hadn’t taken long until all the groceries were brought into his place in one trip. Your friend huffed, shaking her head as if she had run a marathon.

You softly chuckled at her state and softly padded her back to help regulate her breathing again. Underestimating her energy after hours of studying finally caught up to her.

“Who… Goes grocery shopping at this time?” Your friend pants

“I guess that’ll be me” Jay chuckles earning a curious look from you which he catches, “There’s not enough time in the day that allows me to properly shop and get everything I need, especially when I’m with my daughter”

“Sounds like you need a babysitter-” Your friend starts but abruptly stops, you looked over to her and saw the same mischievous look on her face and it sent unease to rest in your stomach

“A babysitter would be nice” Jay lowly sighed but waved it off, grateful to spend time with his daughter despite his busy schedule, “I just haven’t had the time to properly look into that”

“Well look no further because I know the perfect babysitter for you” Your eyes widen and you’re suddenly pulled forward once again and stood in the middle of Jay’s place looking like an animal caught in headlights staring right at him

“W-wa-Wh” You tried to speak but nothing came out as you tried to adjust to what your friend just offered, who she just offered which was you

“You?” Jay sucked his teeth as he looked at you noticing how his trench engulfed your body and unconsciously you straightened out your posture, “Just for uhm precautions… Why would you be a good babysitter?”

The sudden light hearted demeanor from him changed instantly and you couldn’t blame him. Two random girls—one of them your neighbor who you barely speak to, was just offered to take care of your daughter just like that. You’d be surprised if he didn’t do this even if it’s late at night and he’s still yet to put the groceries away.

“I-I won’t mind looking after your daughter” You explained as best as you can as you felt Jay’s piercing gaze on you. Adjusting his jacket over you, your eyes flickered around, “I live right next door so I’ll never be far- Plus my schedule is pretty flexible even with schooling”

“And I mean it’ll benefit you in the end right? I’ll do everything I have to do to properly take care of her”

“I'd like to help you out” You managed to give a smile the moment you made eye contact with him which you hoped didn’t creep him out, “I mean- You know to make sure you don’t get burned out so quickly and have time to focus on yourself! Trust me I know how it feels and it’s not fun” You awkwardly chuckled and you could hear your friend smacking her forehead behind you

His eyes never left yours and it felt like he was able to read every thought in your head. There was a moment of silence and you wanted to lay down in a hole and never show your face again. You nibbled on your lip as you watched Jay’s hard gaze on you.

He let out a sigh nodding his head, “Alright. When can you start?”

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Running around gathering your belongings into your bag still making sure to be as quiet as possible in order to not disturb the sleeping child in your bed.

You picked up a sudden dropped shift with the expectation of receiving a higher pay for the unexpected inconvenience. You could really care less for the ungodly hour you’ll have to work, money is money and you desperately need it.

And right on time, you heard the faint knock at your door and you knew it was none other than Jay picking up his daughter.

This was only your first week babysitting her, the first time awkward but easy but after the 4th day it was better than the first time—much better or at least you thought it was.

At your door, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before carefully opening it to reveal Jay on the other side of it. A striking simple black suit that pierced your heart like an arrow as he adjusted his watch.

He raised his head to the sound of the door opening and gave a gentle smile making warmth spread across your chest. The silly little infatuation is driving you mad.

“Hi Jongseong” You greeted him, moving to the side just enough to welcome him in, “She was a little more tired today. She’s sleeping right now, just give me a second and I’ll go get her”

Without even being able to say a word, he watched as you disappeared. Normally, his daughter would be full of energy ready to greet him at the door when it was time to be picked up.

Keeping his lips in a straight line, he looked around your place noticing it was simple but homey. It spoke loud of who you were as a person which he’s come to realize, he doesn’t know much of.

He only knew the basic things about you but nothing in depth that could make him stand out in your life. He let out a deep sigh at the thought and rubbed his nape but stopped seeing you carefully carrying his daughter.

Her head rubbing against the juncture of your neck, her small arms wrapped around you and the fondness you looked at her with when she let out a small whine when you tried to hand her over to him.

Jay isn’t one to think of anything when seeing someone more specifically a woman holding his daughter but something bloomed in his chest as he watched you whispering in her ear making his daughter pull her ahead away from you to him.

He opened his mouth with a smile and extended his arms which his daughter easily slipped into from yours to his. “Hi sweetheart” He gasped as she quickly knocked her head into his chest and curled into her father’s embrace

You handed over her sparkly pink school bag towards Jay which contrasted his attire but you think it suited him quite well and found it more cute.

“Thank you so much for looking after her” He softly said and just hearing his soft voice made your knees want to buckle but stuck with just waving it off as nothing

His eyes looked you up and down and took notice of your clothing. Rather than the comfy clothes you wore the first time he came to pick up his daughter, you wore more formal clothing this time a jacket wrapped around you with your bag hanging off your shoulder and phone in hand.

Your phone vibrated and you looked at it to silently curse under your breath which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “Is everything okay?” He asked and you forgot that he was still there for a second

You replaced your frown with a quick smile, “Yeah, I just have to head out soon for my shift”

Jay’s eyebrows knitted together, “A shift? This late?”

“Whatever can pay the bills” You sadly chuckled and shrugged it off not noticing how Jay stared at you perplexed, he just got off his shift and here you were going to yours

“How are you going to get there?”

“Walking but if I’m lucky I can catch a bus” You explained but noticing time passing by you don’t think the chances are high

Jay remained silent, contemplating something as you walked them out. His daughter stirred awake when you locked your front door. You quickly apologized and tried to soothe her back to sleep but she looked between you and your dad with sleepy eyes. “Where are you going?” Her voiced slurred with sleepiness

“I have to go work” You softly explained but she tried to reach out to you shaking her head

She mumbles something ineligible and you softly giggled before stroking her head leveling with her whispering a soft goodbye again. Jay watched all of this unfold between his daughter and you, the same bloom in his chest forming all over again.

“I can take you there” Jay spoke before being able to comprehend his own thought process,

Your hand dropped to fall to your side. His eyes widened as he stared at your shocked expression

What the hell is he saying? His mouth opened and closed trying to follow up his statement but nothing came out. But his daughter seemed to understand him better than he understands himself. “Yes!” Her energy suddenly boosted up at the thought of being able to spend more time with you

Jay stared at his daughter, shocked at her quick interest, he looked over to you and saw the shake of your eyes before letting out a strained laugh. “I don’t want it to be an inconvenience” You said

“Ridiculous” He chuckled not realizing how it made the harsh thump in your heart hard to ignore, “Please” His voice softer than the first time

How could you say no to him? Well easy. You couldn’t.

Jay’s car reflected his personality perfectly. Nice and sleek, the black shining leather—Real leather—not some fake leatherette to taint his car. His daughter and your happy chatter filling the car as he follows the GPS to your job.

One could easily mistake the dynamic. Easily. His foot slowed down on the brake pedal coming to a stop in front of the shops that illuminated in bright colors, 24 hours.

“24 hours?” He softly muttered not thinking you’d pick up on it but hearing your light sigh he moved from the sign to you who had a small smile

“Like I said. Whatever pays the bills” You said, “Thank you for the ride I really do appreciate it” Your smile growing before turning your body in the seat to reach out your hand to the little girl in the back

“Don’t give your dad a hard time mhm?” You hummed which caused her to pout her lips, trying to reach other to grab your hand to keep you longer but the restraints of her car seat kept her in place

You shot Jay a different smile. Something warm and tense before stepping out of the car, waving goodbye to them before heading into your job with slack shoulders.

How could’ve he have been so naive, selfish, just so stupid. You’ve been taking care of his daughter while he’s been at work. Picking her up, cleaning up after her, making sure to give the proper meals needed all whilst welcoming her into your place easily, allowing her to sleep in your bed even holding back from taking regular scheduled hours to look after her just to end up working ungodly hours just to get money.

Money that should’ve been in your bank account from the first hour you looked after his daughter and yet, he hadn’t paid you a single dime.

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At the same time you heard the knock of the door. “Right on time” You said while standing up and making your way over to the door which you expected her to follow suit

You opened the door just enough, “Hi Jong-” But it slammed shut in front of his face

Your jaw dropped letting out a loud gasp to see his daughter’s hand on the door, a deep frown on her face before clinging onto your leg, shaking her head. “Don’t want to see him” She huffed

Knitting your eyebrows you crouched the door peeling her off your leg to hold her arms. “Now that wasn’t very nice to do but why don’t you want to see him?” You softly asked but you let out strained a yelp when she launched her arms around your neck

You wrapped an arm around her, hoisting her up. “I’m going to open the door okay?” The lack of response from her made your lip tug to the side before opening the door again

Jay rubbing his creased forehead stopped. You gave an apologetic confused smile but he gave a tired smile in return almost as if he expected it. “It’s time to go back home” You whispered into the little girl’s ear but she let out a whine, roughly shaking her head and only held onto you tighter

Confusion written over your face as you tried to peel her off her body into Jay’s but she wouldn’t budge.

Letting out a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his neat hair. The locks slotted through each crack easily, messily ruining the sleek style into something far more loose.

Awkwardly shaking your head from that thought to look at Jay. “Why don’t you come in?” You motioned him inside just like how you always did

How you welcomed him so easily when he hadn’t welcomed you like that showed the constraint he held himself up to. Sighing heavily as he walked in, you closed the door behind him—rocking the girl in your arms who hadn’t looked at her father once.

“Make yourself comfortable Jongseong”

“I feel like we’ll be here for a while”

And after hours of quite literal utter silence in your place, Jay’s daughter finally fell asleep in your arms.

“She’s asleep” You softly whispered to Jay who immediately perked up from the chair, sleepy eyes seeing his daughter happily laying against your body, a content smile on her face while in your embrace

“Oh I didn’t know you were sleeping-”

“No, it's fine. I’m sorry I fell asleep” Jay tried rubbing his hands over his eyes to wake himself up

“Stressful day?” You softly questioned, it was a little invasive but the lack of sleep infiltrated your regular thought process that you spewed anything that came to mind

Jay stayed silent for a moment, his hands moving away from his eyes to look over to your droopy ones. You still managed to have a smile plastered on your face, especially to him.

There weren’t many times he could be vulnerable, not when he has to prioritize his daughter over everything, to make money which is never an issue for him just to make sure his daughter could have anything and everything she could ever want.

A need to fill the void that no material could ever fulfill.

“Just a little” He deeply sighed, his back sinking into the seat again, his arm resting against the armchair

You nipped at your lip, “Want to talk about it?” Each word smaller than the last not wanting to overstep a boundary with him but it was an invisible opportunity that he’s been wanting, waiting for so long

“That’ll be nice”

As you laid Jay’s daughter into your bed, he stayed next to you the entire time. He knelt to the ground, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, mumbling something inaudible for you to hear before stroking his cheek with a saddening gaze.

He tugged at your sheets making sure she was fully covered before turning to face you. You looked at him with complete utter fondness and he stopped his movement. His gaze remained on you for a split second longer than he wanted trying to pull back his wandering thoughts from going deeper.

Clearing his throat, he knelt up from the ground which brought you out from the haze that you were. Your eyes widened as his eyes never left yours and you quickly turned a heel, “I-I have some wine, do you drink wine? Is wine good?” You rambled

Jay stared at your figure. He let out a deep sigh which soon grew into a small smile when you turned around to face him. The light behind illuminating your figure. “Wine is perfect”

Jay sat across from you, his usually strict attire now messed up. Three unbuttoned buttons from his shirt. Sleeves rolled all the way up to his elbow, his hair out of his slicked style to a messy middle part. Legs barely spread open, his lower body pushed forward as he twirled the wine left in his glass.

“She’s upset with me today” Jay sipped drops of wine out of his glass before resting it onto his lap, “I mean I don’t blame her. I promised that her mom and I would take her out but…” He sighed heavily

The mention of the mother made you suddenly tense. The first time you ever heard anything about her, neither did Jay or his daughter ever speak of her in your presence.

You gulped harshly, shifting on the couch. The material under your body is clinging onto your skin somehow. It’s a normal reaction right or maybe you’re overthinking. It must be the alcohol seeping into your system already even though you hadn’t taken a sip yet.

“We both got caught up in work so we had to reschedule but I had to be the bearer of bad news and when I had to break it to her, of course she was upset”

“I’m actually surprised she didn’t complain to you about it. She made it very known that she was upset at me and her mother” Jay sadly chuckled to himself, his eyes trained on the wine glass

“It’s not your fault” He quickly looked to you surprised to see the disagreement of opinion, “I mean- There’s some things that we can’t control”

“Especially when you and your wife work-”

“She’s not my wife”

Defying silence surrounds you and Jay. He was quick to rebuttal the assumption and it tingles something in your gut.

“Me and her mother co-parent. We were young and reckless and everything just happened before we even realized it and now we have our precious little girl” Jay chuckled looking up from the wine glass to look at you, a certain glint in his eyes.

“But we’re not- I’m not married”

You couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were enticing, captivating you deeper into the very thing you were holding yourself back from. Jay’s eyes never faltered from yours and you wondered how.

Trying to snap yourself from the moment to ground yourself in reality because even if he wasn’t married—Just co-parenting, he has to be seeing someone.

“O-Oh I see” You said, his eyes boring straight into yours

You harshly gulped while trying to ignore the bubbling warmth of hope soaring through you. A voice deep inside your mind voicing out your deepest desires.

Feeling as if Jay could see right through you and hear these thoughts made you shift in your spot again. What if he could hear them? What if he thinks it’s strange?

Through the slimmest possible lens, what if he felt the same way.

“Still don’t blame yourself for it… I’m sure she’ll understand sooner or later. Maybe take her out to help somewhat ease the situation until you and uhm her mother can take her out” You offered some advice as best as you could

Jay remained silent listening to you. His eyes finally look away from you and you let out a silent sigh of relief from the release of his hard gaze.

“Taking her out…” Jay’s voice was barely above a whisper, he twirled the wine once again deep in thought

You stared at him, anticipation slipping deep into each crevice as possible in you until he spoke up again with his eyes looking back up to you, “Definitely will have to do that”

There felt more to his words than the surfacing original topic of it yet, you couldn’t place your finger on it.

“You know she talks about you a lot” You were the one to look at him in shock

“Really? I hope it’s good thi-”

“Always” He interrupted taking another sip of the alcoholic drink to slip past in his throat, “It’s always good things” He smiled towards and there was the same warmth you felt whenever you with him grow 10 folds

“I’ve been meaning to give this to you. I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long please forgive me” Jay shuffled through his discarded jacket before pulling out an envelope leaning over to slide it over to you

“Wha-” His shirt fell just enough that if you dared to look longer you could see the necklace dangling and past it was his sculpted chest

You pulled your eyes to the envelope and grabbed it with shaky hands trying to hold back from showing the burning of your cheeks. Your palm clammy trying to open the envelope but slipping every time.

You continued to try opening the envelope but soon Jay’s calloused warm hands engulfed yours. You jumped at the sudden contact but not enough to pull your hands away. Looking up to him, his face is daringly close to yours.

Able to feel his breath brush against yours, you smelled the hint of wine but it made your insides churn in a rather dark way instead.

“Slow doll” His voice slurred and fluttering, “Take it nice and slow”

His fingers clasped over yours, guiding your movement in carefully opening the envelope. Holding your breath as he made your fingers slip into the envelope slowly slotting your fingers to grab the thin paper inside to pull out.

There was a slight shudder rumbling out of your breath causing him to slip up a smirk. Your eyes widen in pure shock as you read over the words on the paper or more like check.

A check written out to not even a hundred dollars but instead 2 thousand dollars.

“I-I- Jong-Jongseong”

Your mouth fell slack as you tried to find any words that could form at least anything in the slightest but nothing came out. “When are you free?” He whispered, his nose bumped against yours, his eyes looking deep and searching in yours

Your hands fell down with his on top, “I’d like to take you out”

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An all black outfit. The button up something you hadn’t seen before. It accented his shoulders that screamed to you, his daring built back that your fingers itched to claw at. His more relaxed but styled hair with the singular strand falling in front.

Jay looked so good but he wasn’t staying. Instead he was going out while you were staying at his place to babysit his daughter like you always do.

And yet, selfishly you should’ve made some lie that you were busy and wouldn’t be able to babysit his daughter.

But the look in his eyes swooned you and the silent hidden excitement from him landed you right on his couch with his daughter plastered against your side having to watch her dad finish getting ready.

“Please call in case of anything. It’s just some job party, nothing important. They always host them” He rambled trying to diminish the past excitement he had, “Actually you know what? I’m not going anywhere, I’ll just stay with you both” Jay said beginning to take off his watch

“Jay” You simply said which made him stop, he looked over to you letting out a deep sigh, “Go to it. When was the last time you were able to enjoy yourself?”

Two weeks ago when I took you out is what he would’ve said if he had the courage to.

That day two weeks ago had been the highlight of his social life that he’s had in years. Always being so focused on working and taking care of his daughter, he never paid attention to anything outside of it until you came into the picture.

He can remember it so vividly almost as if he were to be reliving it again. Your sweet smile greeting him and his daughter. “Hi” He breathlessly let out seeing you

He awkwardly fumbled with his suit as you took notice of his different style of hair different from the usual one you see him in. Instead of the usual strict sleek hair, it was loosely done, his hair moved to each side to expose his forehead slightly.

“Hi miss!” You looked down to see his daughter dressed up as she crashed her body onto your body in a bear-like hug looking up to you with sparkly eyes

Letting out a heartfelt chuckle, you stroked her head before looking up to Jay with a gentle expression. He’s never been bothered with seeing others with daughter and yet, everytime with you, he feels a twinge twist in his chest watching you and his daughter.

“Daddy give her your gift!” His daughter chirped making him flinch at the sudden spotlight on him, you tilted your head in confusion and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before straining out a laugh

He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and your smile dropped before quickly growing into a bigger one. You nipped at your lip to hold it back anymore but it was near impossible.

“Guess the surprise is ruined” He softly murmur but you shook your head at his words and grabbed the bouquet

“It caught me off guard so I think it’s a success” You chuckled before grasping the bouquet, “They’re beautiful” You admired the flowers while he only looked at you

Jay was floored. “Yeah I know” He mumbled under his breath going unnoticed by you

“Thank you Jay” You looked up to catch him staring at you with a certain sparkle as he looked at you, he let out his own smile and if it wasn't for his daughter tugging at his hand, he wouldn’t have gotten out of the daze he was in any time soon

Instinctively looking at his daughter, he gave two fingers for her to hold and she looked over to you with her hand open. Instantly you knew what she wanted and allowed her to grasp your fingers.

“Let’s head out shall we? Our reservation is soon-”

“Daddy worked hard!” His daughter chipped in cutting him off, “Always on the phone talking to people for it” His daughter spoke making the tips of Jay’s ears turn bright red as you stifled a laugh

“Oh did he now?” You raised an eyebrow looking over to Jay who hadn’t said a single thing to rebuttal the accusation, it was true, he wasn’t going to deny it

He wanted everything to be perfect and by the end of it, it was indeed perfect. Jay held his sleeping daughter in his arms, your hand wrapped around his bicep able to feel the slight bulge of it as he walked you to your front door.

Jay felt accomplished. The day was filled with nothing but laughter and chatter minus the exception of sudden silence when many people mistaken them as a beautiful loving family out to dinner which always left Jay in a ringing frenzy until you snapped him out of it everytime.

He didn’t know why the usage of family with you, to have you be mistaken as the mother of his daughter or as his wife left him hot and his heart pattering against his chest.

“Thank you Jay for today. I had such a wonderful time” You smiled brightly and he was growing too accustomed to see your beautiful smile towards him

“It was my pleasure” He gave a tight smile as he felt sudden jitters all around, “I’m sure she enjoyed it too” He gestured towards his sleeping daughter

You nodded your head, a look of contemplation in your eyes before unlocking your door but right before you opened it, you quickly spun around and planted a peck on his cheek before fumbling with the door behind you.

Jay froze for a moment and just before you could slip through his fingers he strangled out a sound to stop you. You turned around, a faint dust of blush heating your cheeks as you lowered your gaze.

He gulped harshly not thinking this far ahead but knowing he had to come up with something, “I-I uhm if you want to of course- I’d like to take you again” He jumbled his words together until some sentence was formed

He anxiously looked at your dropped expression as you raised your head to look at him and he’ll never be able to forget the chuckle you let out as you nodded your head softly biting back your smile.

The beating of his heart reminded him of what it was like to feel like a little kid having their first crush ever all over again. It never bothered him not feeling this in a long time but now being able to experience it again, it felt nice.

And yet, somehow he never managed to gain any courage to see when you were free. Excusing it to be poor scheduling with his working hours and you taking care of his daughter and schooling hours with the very few work hours you snagged just for extra pocket money even when he offered to pay triple the amount he’s been already paying you—Which was nearly 3 thousand dollars daily.

Money is not an issue for Jay, never has been and never will be and he’s more than willing to cover all and any expenses you may have. His only issue is not nearly having enough courage to ask you again.

“Don’t worry about us, you know we always have our own fun here. Go have yours” Your reassuring voice reminded him of reality as you smiled through a fake smile

As wonderful the idea was if Jay stayed in that exact same outfit and didn’t go out for everyone to throw themselves at him. You knew it was unreasonable, these job parties are probably hosted in the first place with hopes that he shows up to at least one of them.

Ignoring the bubbling gnaw in your stomach twisting your stomach inside and out, Jay lets out a defeat sigh, clicking his watch back on and dusting off the imaginary dust off his clothes.

“Say goodbye” You whispered and Jay’s daughter smiled widely waving goodbye to her dad who stared at her and you in complete awe

He walked over, his hand resting on the armchair and leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead. In the process the same musk cologne filled your nose making your head dizzy and having him in closer proximity made your heart thump out of your chest.

His side profile was nothing but sheer perfection. You nibbled at your lip as you examined his features up close, always finding yourself in this very position. And yet, he was beyond reach.

Your lips tugged downwards but tried to replace it with a smile when Jay pulled away and looked over to you. His eyes boring into your wavering ones like usual, there was a split moment of hesitance. You gulped trying to ignore the patter of your heart.

Instead of saying goodbye, Jay’s breath shakily fanned yours with a staggering thing smile plastering on his face, “See you soon”

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He expected the party to loosen every fiber in his body but instead his emotions were only heightened ten folds. Every passing second he’s looking at his watch counting down the milliseconds waiting for what seems like a reasonable time to leave.

Sighing heavily, he shakes his head. He shouldn’t have listened to you. He’d rather spend tonight with you and his daughter watching whatever you guys put on.

Swashing the drink in hand not having taken a single sip from the moment he arrived, his arms resting against the rail as he overlooked to see everyone enjoying themselves. He let out another heavy sigh just to check his watch again.

“Mr. Park you look tensed” He looked up to see his employee leaning against the rail next to him giving him a sly smile

Being the boss he is, he dropped his sullen face to give a professional smile. “Do I?” He sucked his teeth letting out a quick stifle laugh

She giggled at his remark like it was the funniest thing ever said, “Is it perhaps about your daughter?” She tilted her head and Jay didn’t like the fact she carelessly mentions his daughter

However, giving the benefit of the doubt, he assumes it must be the alcohol in her system noticing the nearly empty glass at hand.

He lets out an awkward laugh and tilts his head to the side giving no response. “Or is there stuff happening at home? Y’know I would love to help out in anyway I can Mr. Park” The employee rubbed her hand up and down his arm slurring her words together

His eyes followed her movements and carefully pulled his arm away checking the time, “Will you look at that I have to get back home to my girls”

“Your girls?” The employee muttered to herself in confusion but she wasn’t able to dwell on it anymore when Jay took away the glass with a small smile

“Don’t drink anymore tonight. Make sure to rest properly and take some medicine in the morning” Jay nodded his head and easily turned his heel walking past the other employees who all wondered where he was going but none dared to ask

It didn’t take long for Jay to get back to his but on the drive home, he was in pure contemplation. His elbow resting on the open window, feeling the night breeze fanning his face as his fingers played with his lips.

He possibly couldn’t. He shouldn’t even be thinking about you in this light and yet every time he sees you, he feels like he’s experiencing his first crush all over again.

Jay rushed out of his car once he parked it. Standing outside his front door, his hand raised to softly knock against it. After a few seconds of waiting which felt like an eternity. The door opened with your soft voice. “Jongseong?”

Right when the door was opened wide enough, Jay stepped in not forgetting to lock the door behind him. He knew his daughter was fast asleep considering the time. It was just you and him.

You stared at Jay confused at the lack of response from him but you gasped when he suddenly grasped your hands, feeling the familiar calloused feel of them scratching your skin.

He looked deeply into your eyes and you nearly felt your heart burst out of your chest. There’s always been an underlying feeling that’s been infiltrating him from the moment he first met you.

A pretty, money struggling woman that he wants as his to bask away into the sunset and take care of forever.

Jay’s hand held your lower back, his other hand holding the middle of your back flushing you against his. You let out a small squeal the moment your bodies clashed. His breath fanned over yours and the very faint smell of the musk cologne caused a shiver to run up your spine.

You’ve never seen him like this. So raw with emotion, yearning eyes, a tug at his lips. “Ja-Jay?- Jongseong?” You stuttered not knowing how to address him in this moment, your heart thumping out of your chest

He drew in closer, his lips closing in on yours, “Call me Jay. Call me Jongseong. You can call me whatever you want”

“Just call out to me” You felt his lips grazing yours before he softly planted them against each other

Your squished hands shivered but they carefully climbed higher until they reached his sharp jaw as you pushed further into his lips. Jay let out a pleased sigh feeling the reciprocation. His hand on your mid back traveled to grasp the back of your head.

His hands turned your body, his body filling in any empty space that dared to be left behind. Your hands squeeze in between under his arms, grasping onto the behind his shoulders in a desperate need.

Your mind was reeling, not a single thought in it besides the dad—The hot dad next door, Park Jongseong.

His tongue gilded against your lip, begging for entrance. You easily allowed him to explore your mouth. His teeth tugging at your bottom lip in a haste making your squeal.

“Going to have to be a quiet doll” However, he wasn’t sure if he could keep up with his own words, Jay felt drunk when he was kissing you

Your lips grew swollen from how long he’s been kissing you but not once did he stop, the lack of oxygen would never stop him from kissing you.

The tips of your fingers dug deeper into his shoulder causing him to let out a loan groan at the feel. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was how badly he wants to make you his.

Jay’s arms loosened around your body enough to make his hands land on your hips to carefully guide your body deeper into his home that now always welcomes you in.

You allowed yourself to melt in his embrace. Every touch felt like fire against your skin, your arms flailed to wrap around his neck making sure not even for a second did his lip ever leave yours. Your teasing fingertips entangled in his hair.

Jay bit your lip to keep himself silent through the dizzy feeling of your tugs. The moment you reached his bedroom, the door closed shut as he quickly pushed you onto his bed, never detaching his mouth from yours.

His body slotted between your legs, as you wrapped around him. Holding him to keep him close—daring for him to get farther than just a few centimeters away only to drag him back in.

The feel of lightheadedness was finally catching up, through the few milliseconds that you both stopped to change positions were you able to properly breathe but it was taken away when Jay crashed his lips back onto yours.

The same repeated motions felt like an eternity that you never wanted to escape from. Jay’s hands holding your waist tightly while yours traveled playing with the back hairs loving how they run perfectly in between.

Jay’s been kissing you like a starved man who has been deprived of any sense of touch for so long which wasn’t far from the truth. One final tug at your lips before the wave of air filled your lungs through a loud pant.

Gasping for air contrasted the pucker of your lips ushering more kisses. Jay let out a deep chuckle, his thumb rubbing at your sides now planting softer pecks on your lips with a side smile tugging at his lips.

“More” Your voice slurred, “Please”

Your breathless pleas only fueled him further. Who was he to deny your desperate pleas.

“Talk to me. What do you want, doll?” He hummed in the juncture of your neck, his mouth leaving feathering kisses in its wake

The simple nickname leads to the attempt to squish your legs together, forgetting how Jay rested in the middle. He caught your attempt and let out a chuckle.

“You like being called doll or do you like the fact that you’re my doll? Which one is it, mhm?” An unexplainable courage taking over him that he couldn’t remember why he didn’t ask you out from the moment he knew what he wanted

You could feel the smirk radiating off of him and you rolled your eyes which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He sucked in his teeth, his hand grabbing your chin with force to make you look at him.

“Now don’t be a brat” He tooted before letting out a smirk, “Use your big girl words, which is it?”

Already have succumbed to him and his words from the moment you saw him standing at your front door. “Your doll” You softly said

Pleased with the words, he let go of your chin to capture your lips with his, the kiss softer than the first one. His hand gilded higher up your side. You moaned in the kiss, happy to feel his lips on yours again.

Your hands wrapped around his neck to keep him in place, “Let me spoil you” He murmured, your lips grew in a smirk which he felt, his hand tightened on your waist as if in a warming

Pulling away with a heavy pant, you looked up to him with curious eyes which captivated him, “I spend a lot of money you know” You snapped your fingers, “Just like that…” Your voice becoming lower than the last

Jay let out a laugh, his head dropping, “Well can you waste my money as quickly as I earn it?” His head raised when he questioned you

You froze at the retaliation. You nervously gulped before letting out a shy smile. You shook your head. Jay hummed in satisfaction at the response before planting kisses at the side of your neck. “Didn’t think so”

Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the sensation. Your body contorted with each of his feather kisses, you bit your lip loving each second of his mouth on your body.

While they moved lower and lower while his hands managed to slip under your shirt feeling your burning bare skin under his touch. You let out a louder gasp than intended when you felt his hand cup at your breast through your bra.

Your eyes shot open only to see Jay looking up to you with a gleam and smirk written all over his face. His hand dragged from under your shirt to your legs, his fingertips gliding until he reached the waist of your pants.

You let out a shaky breath, his eyes pleading for permission. You slowly nodded your head. “What a good girl” He whispered the praise before dragging your pants down

The air caught in your throat but quickly noticing how he was leaving the sticky undergarment clinging to you, you stopped his hands from moving any further.

Jay immediately stopped and looked at you with worried eyes. He retracted his hands away and began to pull away but right when he was going to speak, you engulfed his hands to bring them back.

Stretching out his fingers, you looped them under to grab everything. Jay froze feeling the fabric of your underwear at his fingertips. He looked away with wide eyes to you but you gave a reassuring smile before allowing yourself to melt back into his bed.

“Don’t be so shy” You whispered loud enough for him to hear, he let out strained chuckle before nodding his head

He pulled down every piece of fabric in one motion. You unconsciously squished your legs together, “It’s okay. You don’t have to do a single thing. I’ll take care of you” He softly reassured as he pried open your knees to expose you to him

You closed your eyes shut while your hands fisted at his sheets. Jay’s eyes zeroed in on the glistening entrance that invited him to devour. Opening his mouth with a big breath, he went in and placed an open mouth kiss on your core.

You squealed and jumped from the contact but Jay hooked his arms under your legs before you could fully pull away from him. He groaned at the taste of your captivating arousal on his taste buds. His tongue glided over your folds lathering and mixing his saliva with your arousal.

“Jong-Jay” You breathlessly let out as one of your hands grabbed a fist full of hair, tugging at it while Jay’s mouth sucked and sucked practically all wetness from you

Jay’s groan vibrated from your core all the way to your head, infiltrating it with ease. No response to your calls of his name as he continued to lap at your pussy. Shivering with each kiss and suck, you let out a loud gasp when you felt the intrusion of his tongue teasing your gaping hole.

Jay immediately pulled away, the string of saliva connecting his mouth to your soaked smeared entrance, you nearly came to the scene.

“Shhh, you have to be quite” He brought a single finger over his mouth, a smirk played on his mouth seeing the fading string on his lips, his finger glided over his swollen mouth

It collected all that was left over and Jay brought the finger into his mouth, tasting the lovely essence of you. He lightly hummed before bringing his finger out and gliding it over your mouth. “Open” The tone stern made you listen without hesitance

Seeing how easily you opened your mouth to welcome the singular finger in without any resistance had his pants grow tighter. Your tongue swirled around his finger, your eyes never letting go with his. He smirked wildly as he pushed his finger further down your throat.

A dark cloud consumed his mind. The rationality he tried to maintain drifted further away. You tried to take as much as you could, feeling how his fingers went further down.

“Looks like you can take stuff well” Jay sneered, a crazed looked in his eyes before you began choking on his finger, feeling the flesh reaching the back of your throat

Pulling his finger away, your mouth closed in on it, letting it out with a pop when his finger left the warmth of your mouth. His finger now covered in your saliva, he admired it.

Looking back at you only to see the wide hopeful eyes you stared at him with a loopy smile. “Beautiful” He whispered softly to himself before lowering his head back down

Expecting or more like anticipating the feel of his mouth again, you let out a louder gasp at the slip of his two fingers into your gaping hole. “Was just calling to be filled. I couldn’t ignore it” Jay muttered breathlessly as your walls clenched around him, “I promised to take care of you, didn’t I?”

“J-Jay” Your hand tried to grappled with his wrist but the drag of fingers near lying slipping out just to slip back him made you stop

Knuckles deep into you, he pulled out again just to shove them back in, repeating the same motion over and over again. The squelch of your arousal and the quiet pants let out, your mind became hazy quickly, “Quiet doll” Jay whispered

Before you could retain a sense of awareness to respond, his mouth attached to your swollen begging bundle of nerves and the first suck made you let out a loud moan.

Your hand flew to cover your mouth and with wide eyes you stared at Jay who froze. The single beautiful noise he heard made him smile against you.

He looked to see you covering your mouth, worried filling your eyes. Your chest rising and dropping. His freehand traveled up to replace your hand with his own. His thumb stroked your cheek, a sharp look in his eyes.

Maintaining a good pace, his fingers pumped into your welcoming entrance, never forgetting to curl and scissor you open. You let your moans fall into his hand, muffled more and more, the more he pressed down harder.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling the flick of his tongue on your clit as if it were the sweetest treat to ever exist. The stimulation made you shake and back arch just for him. Breathing as best as you could through your nose with each calculated and careful rub to the nerves had you fisting fisting at his hair while your legs wrapped around his head latching him onto your pussy.

“So fucking sweet” He murmured to your muffled moans, “Give it to me. Be a good girl” He knew you were on the edge, the pulse of you around his fingers was the near indicator, sucking him more and deeper into you

“Jay” You wail in his mouth before lightly biting on his palm to keep quiet as best as you could, “Ja-Jongseong!” You let out louder when suddenly a gush of release shot out of you as you came over his fingers with a tight clench that forced his fingers out of you

Jay moved his fingers over your folds encouraging more of your juices to be released as he slurped as much out of your leaking entrance as he could, not wanting a single thing to go to waste. His tongue only add more to your sensitivity as you body contorted even after it finally came to a stop, “Helping you out” The kisses were only constant while your whines and heavy pants continued, combining together

He stopped with one final kiss before finally pulling away and releasing your mouth from his hand. Your mind trying to comprehend and come down from the new height of pleasure, you let out a loud relieved sigh with a hidden shudder of satisfaction.

Seeing his smeared cover chin and loopy smile he had on his face made your chest flutter, “You okay there?” Jay lightly chuckled at your weak nod, “Big girl words doll. You know how to use them” Jay rose to hover above you

“Fuck me Jay”

Jay smirked letting out a hiss “Wasted no time and used such nasty words”

“Think you can be quiet for me?” Jay hummed trickled down your mind straight to your pulsating hole waiting to be filled

Nodding your head quickly and covering your mouth with your own hands made Jay’s lips tug to the side in pleasure. Jay fumbled with his belt, his eyes never leaving your lingering one and managed to free himself from the restraints of his pants with a strained sigh.

Your eyes widened zeroing in on the prominent bulge that was daring to burst any second, “Let me help you” He whispered replacing your hand with his

Titling his head to the side admiring the scene beneath him. Sprawled onto his messed up sheets that he’ll have to change after this, a daze filled look in your eye and his hand lightly covering your mouth.

Jay used his freehand as best as he could to free his raging hard-on that’s been deprived for many years. Your eyes watched his every move to see how his cock sprung against his abdomen, having your jaw drop. A very much leaking tip and small twitches at the freedom and something that was big—very big.

He felt the slack of your mouth and chuckled to himself feeling the pride swell his chest. “What’s wrong doll?” He murmured when removing his hand waiting for some type of response

Your mouth opened and closed trying to form some type of articulating thought but nothing came out. “Think you can handle all of it? Can you think of taking me all in here mhmm?” Jay’s hand rubbed over your stomach in a slow manner

“Think you can be a good girl and stay quiet while I fuck you senseless?”

You were able to feel the thumping against your chest that you feared he would be able to hear. You don’t think in your wildest dreams would you be able to take someone like Jay. Yet, now in your wildest reality, you’ll try—well more like you will.

You tugged at Jay’s forearm whilst maintaining eye contact with him. The soft tug at your bottom lip as you threaded his hand to cover your mouth. You nodded your head as your eyes looked at him with greed. “Why don’t you find out?”

To your shock, Jay softly tugged his arm away from your hold. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tapped at your leg, “Turn around”

Seeming getting used to your jaw falling slack, you looked at him in shock but didn’t hear an ounce of sputter in his tone. Not wanting to risk being left all hot and bothered even though you knew Jay wouldn’t dare. You were not testing his patience today.

With a harsh gulp, you flipped your body over. Jay’s hands hovering over your hips before tugging them up before you could fully lay them onto his bed. Your upper body pressed into the mattress, feeling the messed up sheets sticking to the side of your face.

Your hands fisted at the sheets at the new exposure you had for him while your cheeks burned in shyness. He rubbed your hips in awe, pulling one of your cheeks to the side to get a glimpse of the arousal covered crevice. “Is this all for me doll?”

“A-All for you. Just you”

His other hand grabbed the heft into his palm before aligning at your entrance. “Remember to keep quiet” He reminded, “Take a nice big deep breath for me”

You followed his instructions but before you could fully respond you felt the larger intrusion of his tip to your gaping hole making you silently gasp. The stretch compared to nothing you’ve ever felt before and would possibly never.

“Fuck” You breathlessly let out as Jay continued to sink himself deeper

Jay tried his best to not ram himself entirely into the delicious confinement you provided but it called for him—while sucking and welcoming him inside.

“S-shit taking me so good” He muttered as quietly as he could, “Could stay inside you forever”

You felt like you were being split in half just by his cock alone. Your ragged breaths followed after another trying to remember Jay’s advice and not get lost in the sensation.

You peered over your shoulder as best as you could to see how Jay’s looked to where he entered you. The sheer consecration and control made your mind stutter.

Without a warning, in a single thrust, your body jolted forward and you felt full. You gasped loudly, the sheets crumbling more under your clamped hands and body. Your lip shivered as you tried to keep your noises to a minimum.

“J-Jay” Your voice cracked trying to get adjusted to your walls being so stretched out by him

“It’s okay, I got you” His reassurance filled your chest with warmth, taking a few breaths to regulate your body, you weakly nodded your head as you dug your head into the mattress to muffle yourself, “So good for me” He uttered softly tracing your back

Moving his hips once, he quickly got lost in the sense of you wrapped around him. His thrust left you nearly empty only to be filled the next second. Each precise move was calculated to each maximum pleasure possible for you. Nearly able to feel his tip already hitting deep to your g-spot, poking to your insides in a teasing manner.

Your muffled moans fueled Jay further to the edge. He gripped at your hips, his slow pace now picking up only slightly. You were taking all of him and he never felt prouder. “Taking me like such a good girl, so damn proud of you”

Feeling like your head was submerged in water, you relished in his praise. The senses that were always on high alert whenever he was around came crumbling down and became filled with him.

“F-for you” You blabbed against the sheets and Jay managed to hear it making him tap at your lower back as he carefully placed his body onto of yours to melt as one

Each thrust led you further into the mattress, your mouth opened leaving small moans in its wake, leaving your mind blank to only focus on the fulfillment you had inside.

Turning your head to the side, you let out whined filled pants. “Take it doll- Not a fucking sound” Jay grunted darkly into your ear

Your mind tried to recall the words just said to you. But deeper and stronger was the desire to let Jay know how he was making you feel. Feeling you clamp around him harder and the silent pants soon became quiet moans.

“T-Too good. ‘m sorry” You mewled as he continued to thrust into you, “So good, can-can’t help it” Your body meshed as he continued

You took a loud deep breath while a whine rumbled out of your chest when he suddenly stopped his thrust, “As much as I would love to hear you” Jay’s sudden harsh thrust caught you off guard with a yelp, “You need to be quiet” Each word followed by another harsh thrust that touched nearly every thing imaginable inside of you

Your broken wails were muffled by the bedding once again. Seeing the recoil of when he and you meet only fueled a carnal desire in him more. “Gonna breed your sweet pussy doll”

“You’ll be so full of me…Will you like that?” Jay grunts having the calculated thrust embodied your mind and body just for him

His words added to the fire that was consuming your body whole. You nodded your head roughly. “Remember what I said. Big girl words” Jay’s voice lulled into your ear, “Want me to fill you up that’ll you feel it inside of you? Until it’s moving around in you with each step you take?”

The obscene noises only grew louder against his bed as you tried to form a proper sentence to please Jay. “Y-yes” You pleaded as best as you could, “Please Ja-Jay”

“Whatever you ask for doll” Jay snapped his hips harsher, as you clawed at the sheets for support, “Taking me so fucking good- Bet you’ll take everything I give you”

You weakly nodded your head, “Will- F-For you” You murmured

His thrust grew frantic and irregular, his constant grunts filled your ears. The more you clamped around him, not daring to let him go of the welcoming embrace you had around him drew him nearer his organsm.

“Doin’ so good for me” His hand held onto your body when he felt you tightened as you let out the loudest moan of the night as you came all over his cock

Your body shivered as you entered a state of pure bliss. “Take it- Just a little more for me- C’mon doll” His praises slipped passed your gaze and deep into your heart making the clench you had on Jay limit his range of motion but it was enough to have him snap and paint your pink velvet walls white of him.

A low groan slipped his mouth as he halted his thrust to properly fill you to the brim just like how he promised. He watched how you pulsed around him but none of the cum dared to fall out as you took everything he split into you.

Jay’s chest rose up and down, softly pulling out his semi hard cock out of you hearing the small hiss you let out at the sudden emptiness. Your body laid face first on his bed, your body rising and falling with each heavy pant. He smiled softly as he helped you turn your body around to face him.

There he realized his biggest mistake as he saw you masked in an afterglow. Your mouth was slack slightly opened, quiet whines fell out every now and then, your half lidded eyes staring up at him.

His eyes traveled to where he once was inside of you to see the few clumps of cum that spilled out. He cooed before quickly scooping whatever he could to sleek it over your folds before pushing it back in where he left it.

You whined loudly and slightly jolted at your sensitivity being tested when his fingers entered you again. “You did so good for me- Such a good girl for me fuck… I’m so proud of you” Jay planted a messy peck against your cheek, “Let’s get you cleaned up” He whispered

As he was going to remove his fingers out of you, you consciously tightened around them. You lazily shook your head unable to articulate proper sentences that wouldn’t lead you back on his cock again which ultimately failed, “Want your cock” You slurred catching Jay off guard as he let out a strained cough

“Wha-What was that doll?”

“I want your cock again sir”

Like a switch went off in his head. Jay’s demeanor changed. Never knowing the single usage of sir could alter his mind forever. Instantly needing to give you more—more than anything you could ever ask for, wanting to spoil you rotten until you grow sick and tired of him.

He needs to fill you up until you possibly couldn’t hold any more of his cum in you. Softly prying your legs open, he aligned himself at your entrance again gaining your attention at how he easily complied to your request. “No need to ask me twice doll”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The faint bristle of wind coming in through the slightly ajared window, the direct sunlight shining through caused Jay’s face to flinch before groggily opening his eyes with a low groan.

Normally, his daughter jumps on his bed to wake him from dreamless sleep during the weekends. Yet, it was different this time. He managed to wake up on his own to no ruckus but instead a peaceful morning.

Attempting to stretch out his limbs to release some of the tension and drowsiness from it, he stops when he hears the muffled grumbles and faint sound of crinkling sheets. Tilting his head to the side, there he saw you and his daughter basked in the sunlight right next to him.

His daughter coddled in between while you laid against his numb arm, both sound asleep. He fondly smiled to himself before placing soft kisses on each of your foreheads, careful to not stir either of you awake. This was all he could have ever dreamed of.

“My beautiful girls”

——

[mostly-imagines]

So This Is Love

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.

You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.

But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.

You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.

“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.

“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.

You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.

He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.

You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 

“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 

“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 

“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”

All he can do is nod.

You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.

“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.

“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”

He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.

The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.

But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.

There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 

He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 

He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”

“No, I do not.” 

But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.

The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.

His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.

“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.

You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”

He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”

You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.

“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 

“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 

You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  

“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.

In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”

“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.

You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”

Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”

You turn your head towards him, “No?”

He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 

“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”

His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.

You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    

“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.

He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.

You laugh, “Really?”

He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”

“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.

“In my shirt.” He confirms.

You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 

“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”

You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”

He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.

You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.

You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.

He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.

“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.

“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 

“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.

He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”

He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 

“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 

He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.

He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”

You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 

But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 

He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   

Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.

Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   

Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.

This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 

You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.

It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 

You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.

“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.

You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”

He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”

You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”

He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  

You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”

“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.

“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  

“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.

You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    

Jason didn’t get it at first.

Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.

Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.

Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.

It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.

You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.

You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.

You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.

His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.

“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.

He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.

“What was that?”

You look at him, “He dropped his books.”

“Yeah, I saw. But why—”

His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”

You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.

A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.

He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.

“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.

Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”

The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.

He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.

He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.

It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.

“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.

He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.

He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.

He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.

Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?

Do you?

There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.

He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”

The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.

You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

The Morning After

Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader

Word count: 700 ish?

Warnings: Mentions to sex, hickeys, naked people, Simon wanting you for breakfast

Summary: The morning after a steamy night.

Sunlight creeps in through the curtains you never closed last night. The curtains fly around the room, pushed by the daring wind. The window’s are still open, letting in the chirps of birds outside. The wind pushes a breeze around the room and you shiver.

You’re laying on your right shoulder. There’s a heavy arm that isn’t yours draped across your waist. There’s a head tucked into the crook of your neck. There’s another forearm underneath your head. There’s someone’s heavy breathing going straight into your neck. You can feel a bit of stubble. You can feel hair, long, soft hair. You can feel a strong chest against your back. All of it is memorized in your mind.

And there’s only one person in the whole world who’s body you know inch by inch. 

You squint as you open your eyes, the sunlight almost killing you. The duvet is all messed up, barely covering your tangled bodies. His right arm is underneath your head, draped off your side of the bed. His grip on your waist is loose, he’s still asleep. His breathing is even, you can feel it. 

You push yourself out of bed slightly, making a move to shut the window and close the curtains. He grabs onto your waist tightly and pulls you back into the position you were in before. His voice is raspy, almost not even there, as he says, “Five more minutes.”

It should be illegal. His voice. His hair. His chest slowly falling and rising. It should be illegal to look this fucking good in the morning.

“Just wanna close the window,” You reply, keeping your voice hushed. 

“Who gives a shit?” He pulls the duvet higher over you, covering your naked body from the wind. “There. Now, give me 10 more minutes.”

His hand goes back to your waist, covering the soft maroon and purple bruises that formed throughout the night. 

So, you lay back down, take in a deep breath, and try to fall asleep. 

At least an hour goes by before you finally wake up again. Your position hasn’t changed and Simon’s hold on your waist is loose again. You finally move, getting up from bed. He doesn’t pull you back this time, but rolls over. He lets out a groan. “Oh, shut up, you big baby. I gave you more than 10 minutes.”

He doesn’t respond. Just lets out another groan, but louder and longer.

You grab the shirt he wore last night, the one he threw into a random corner of the room, more focused on your body. You toss it into the hamper. His pants and boxers are thankfully close enough to the hamper, yours nowhere to be found. Guess he was a little too excited.

You walk into the bathroom, getting a fine look at yourself in the mirror.

Hickeys and the traces of fingertips line your neck and chest, your hips and legs are covered, and I mean covered, in bruises. On both sides of your hips are marks of large, muscular hands. The marks are red, and it doesn’t look like it’ll all fade in the next hour. You turn slightly, getting a look at your back. Your ass is marked the same way your hips are, with large hand prints, your back thankfully okay. 

“You’re hurt,” Simon’s voice is barely above a whisper as he stares at you from the bed. 

This happens every time he leaves a mark on you. He turns cold again, becoming distant in fear of hurting you again. Every single time. It takes so many words of encouragement to get him to open up again, assuring him it didn’t hurt. 

“They’ll fade,” You shrug.

“I hurt you,” He whispers. 

“No, you didn’t. Last night was probably one of the best nights of my entire life, love. Don’t you dare think I’m in any sort of pain or anything. I’m fine,” You smile at him. “And I left a fair share of marks on you. Look at your back.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, looking over at you again. “Promise?”

“Swear on my life,” You smile. “You want breakfast?”

“Mhm,” He hums, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you. “It’s already served.” Are his last words before diving in between your legs.

[ponderingmoonlight]

(y/n) gifting Geto sweets against the bad taste of curses

Pairing: Geto x reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Being used to the fact that nobody seems to care about how awful curses taste, Suguru Geto is absolutely blown away when you start noticing and bringing him candy after each and every mission.

Warnings: (y/n) has a really bubbly personality in this, pure fluff and no Geto going berserk

Thank you anon for your cute request 🤍

„Oh, there you are! I searched everywhere for you!”, you shout cheerfully, your steps hollering down the dark alley.

Suguru would recognize that oh so sweet voice out of a million, his heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s you. You’re really here.

“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”, he questions softly.

“Well, I don’t know. I had to steal myself away since Yaga-sensei strictly forbid me to run after you again while you’re on a mission. He said something about getting hurt or killed…But that doesn’t stop me! I brought you something salty to eat!”, you announce proudly, stretching out your hand with a little package inside it.

“Did you really come all the way here just to give me that? You don’t have to gift me something to eat. And on top, you don’t need to get yourself in danger for something unimportant like that.”

“Oh, but it’s not unimportant! After all, swallowing those curses doesn’t taste good, right?”

His gaze meets yours. Suguru never talked with anyone about the breath-taking disgusting taste these things left in his mouth for hours, how it takes all his strength to not throw them back up in an instant. After all, no one ever asked him about this. It seems like it has always been enough that he was able to absorb them for everyone else.

“Why would you think that?”

But how…how on earth do you know? Even though Suguru talks with you a lot about everything and everyone, he never talked about this with you. Hell, not even with Satoru.

“That face you make afterwards, scrunching your eyes just the tiniest bit while pressing your lips together. And I mean, what would curses taste like? Certainly not like sugar and candy, right? And I guess it’s like garlic: you’ll have the taste in your mouth for hours! But at least garlic tastes good when used right. Man, I really want some garlic noodles right now… Are you in the mood to grab something to eat? I know you’re quite busy, but-”

Suguru can’t help but stare at you, the foul taste left on his tongue pushed into the background. You with your bubbly personality made of pure gold. You, who came all the way here just to give him something to eat. You, the only person walking on this earth who ever took the time to think about how it must feel to swallow a curse.

Just you.

“It’s like eating a vomit-soaked rag. That’s what they taste like.”

Your doe eyes dart towards him, reflecting nothing but compassion. Before he is able to think straight you’re standing right in front of him, hand pressing the little package into his much larger one.

“No one should have to taste something like this on a regular basis. But maybe…Oh, I have an idea! Let’s make a pact.”

“A pact?”, he repeats in disbelief.

What are you up to? And why is your smile suddenly as bright as the sun?

“A pact! I promise to always have something to eat for you when you tell me about your missions in exchange!”, you announce proudly.

“This doesn’t seem fair to me at all. You don’t have to follow after me just to give me something nice to eat.”

It seems so crazy, almost unbelievable to him that another human being would be willing to sacrifice its precious time for him. Don’t you understand that this promise would mean traveling after him every day and night multiple times? Don’t you understand that you are too good for that? Especially you, the ray of sunshine at Jujutsu High. You, the girl everyone talks about, the girl that even Nanami secretly adores. Why would someone like you take special care of him?

“What isn’t fair is that you have to go through something like this every single time. I really admire you, Suguru. Just the smell of something disgusting makes me gag. Just thinking about eating something that tastes so horrible multiple times a day…You really are a hero! And every hero deserves some sweets! Oh wait…Are you actually into sweets? I can bring you something salty as well.”

“Satoru prefers sweets-“

“But I’m not asking about Satoru”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I’m asking about you.”

He isn’t able to respond. No, Suguru is absolutely captivated by your kind smile and the way you still hold onto his hand, the package in his palm feeling sweaty just by one look into your innocent eyes.

You…you really noticed. And not only that, you really do care about him.

“Go ahead, take a bite! I wonder what you think. I was never really a fan of salty snacks, but these ones are really good”, you explain all too excited.

Hesitantly, he rips open the package and allows himself to get a taste. Oh, this feels like heaven on earth, the saltiness of what seems like crackers hunting away the stinging taste of vomit in his mouth. But what intrigues him the most is you. How you stand in front of him, swaying back and forth in excitement while your eyes follow every move of his mouth, literally glowing in joy.

“These are really good”, he finally confesses.

“Thank you, (y/n). Now everything just tastes good.”

And so it did every following mission. Instead of feeling disgusted by only the sight of a curse, Suguru somehow feel…excitement. Excitement because swallowing a curse means meeting you afterwards. Excitement because he’ll get to taste a new sort of candy or sweets almost every single day. Excitement because slowly but surely, he fell head over heels for your striking sight.

“Those are a speciality around here! I heard some of the others talk about that shop yesterday and thought you might want to try it as well.”

The candy melts on his tongue right away, making him wonder what you taste like while your pretty mouth happily keeps on telling him everything about that shop. It is so easy to get lost in your sight, lost in your talking, last in your personality.

“(y/n).”

He takes a step forward, putting the other piece of candy you handed him over in his pocket. Your eyes widen in the most delicate way, cheeks turning rosy just by one glimpse into the chocolate brown ocean of his eyes.

You always loved the taste of sweets on your tongue, how your nerves began to tingle just the slightest bit. But in this moment, you realized that tasting Suguru Geto was way better than that. He wraps his arms around you gently, pressing his lips against yours ever so slightly. You feel like fainting, flying, giggling. What a precious man he is, how long you imagined how it must feel to kiss your secret crush. But oh, the reality is so much better.

“I love you more than any candy on this planet.”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @itsmonicabc

[retroaria]

NSFW kaiser hcs plsplspls omggg >.<

MICHAEL KAISER: NSFW Headcanons

a/n: i’ve been wanting to write these so bad but i needed the motivation so thank you anon lemme give you a kiss 💋

sorry this is so short 😓

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | requests are open! | enjoy 🦋

• kaiser is 100% the dominant one in bed, but that doesn’t mean he won’t let you top him. he’s a service top/soft dom (most of the time), so he’ll let you do whatever will get you off as long as he gets to participate.

• he loves being marked up. bite marks, scratch marks, bruises on his shoulders, hickeys all over his neck and collar bone, he could stare at himself in the mirror and drool at the sight of your work on him. especially likes the comments he gets from his teammates in the locker room, usually gives a half assed response or brushes it off. feels there’s no explanation needed, he simply fucked you so good you literally had to hold on for dear life and try to eat him lol.

• if you didn’t read my virgin!kaiser post here it is. if you did then you KNOW how i feel about about this topic. unpopular opinion: he is not a whore. kaiser would absolutely save himself for someone special, so chances are he lost his virginity to you. he’s done lots of foreplay with other people in the past, but he didn’t go all the way until he met you and when it happened he was hooked. kaiser has an insatiable libido but he does know how to control himself. just know that you’ll be getting tons of horny texts, nudes, phone calls just so he can hear your voice while he jerks off, he’s a menace.

• he is EAGER to learn about you and your body and every little thing he can do to make you squirm. would spend hours just touching and playing with you to figure it out. teases and edges you all the time (likes to edge himself a little too). wants you to tell him what you want, loves hearing you verbalize your sexual desires.

• will make you talk about sex in inappropriate situations. he’ll whisper dirty words in your ear and smile at you. dinner with the fam? “You’d look so pretty bent over this table.” tries to coax you into joining the mile high club any time you take a flight. he has absolutely no filter when it comes to talking about sex. will reminisce on last nights ministrations while you’re in the car, out to eat, whispering over to you at the movie theater. he’ll ask if you liked certain things he did, if you want to try something different, tell you yet again how good you were for him.

• he’s not a fan of toys aside from vibrators for you but i can see him being into some light bondage perhaps? he likes when he can fuck you and you can’t touch him or yourself.

• kaiser doesn’t like the idea of others watching you guys fuck but he likes the idea of them knowing he’s fucking you if that makes sense. wants you to be loud when there’s other people in the room next to you. makes sure his thrusts are hard enough to my the door or the bed shake and creek. he only does this if he’s around people you guys know. doesn’t want random people to know y’all are fucking but definitely like if he’s teammates or friends are around, rival teams too perhaps.

• this boy loves intimacy so much, as horny as he is, he likes to make sex with you special when he can. when he comes back from playing in another country, desperately yearning for your touch, he does everything in his power to make it the most romantic and passionate experience for you. he takes his time and keeps his pace at a cool medium, not too fast but he doesn’t drag them out too much. kisses everywhere the entire time, can’t take his lips off your perfect skin that he’s missed so much. can’t stand to see it without a single sign of him, so he’s marking you up along the way. moaning your name right into your ear and mumbling “i love you”’s into the crook of your neck. he’s going for as long as possible by the way, switching positions, eating you out for what feels like forever, he could go all night like this.

• he isn’t the kinkiest guy but he will try whatever you want to try. doesn’t mind if he has to be a little mean to you or even if he has to be a little submissive. really cares about sex being an enjoyable experience so he wants to make sure you’re both getting to explore your fantasies. i could see him being into roleplay a little ngl.

• i’m sorry but this man has a perfect dick. it’s like 5-6 inches, not too big not too small, his girth fills his length perfectly, he has a very slight upwards curve that prods into your sweet spots perfectly every time. he keeps himself excessively well groomed. when he gets undressed in front of you all you can do is stare in awe at how pretty he is. his shaft is the same pale tone as the rest of his skin, his veins aren’t very prominent and his tip is pink and cute???? Idk call me weird IDC he’s a pretty boy.

[hoshifighting]

Can you pleaseeee do staff joshua?

staff!joshua

WARNINGS: smut, figurine malfuncion, getting caught fingering, mentions of penetrative sex, limping after sex, dirty talk.

staff!joshua who was basically an angel in a designer hoodie, swooping in like he was born to save the day. he’d been recommended by an artist friend who was finally leaving the chaos of tour life behind, and, honestly, you’d had your doubts. you weren’t looking for another “helpful” stranger who’d end up tangled in the cables backstage or handing you the wrong mic.

you remember him showing up that first day, eyes bright and wide like he was taking in every damn inch of the chaos with some kinda awe. it was… annoying, actually, because who the hell has that much enthusiasm? the whole team couldn’t stop talking about him, whispering like he was some savior sent from above. you’d watch from across the dressing room, pretending not to notice, like, “oh sure, he’s cute or whatever,” but then he’d catch your eye and smile.

staff!joshua who somehow found himself in the middle of the most last-minute disaster ever. the accessories box—the one holding all your necklaces, rings, and that one choker that practically defines your stage look—got left at the hotel across town, hours away. designers scrambling, panic in the air, your manager about to lose it. you’re standing there, just praying that the team doesn’t fully spiral, and then joshua steps in, calm as you like. he asks for a spare box of beads, like it’s no big deal.

he actually sits on the floor, in the mddle of the dressing room, legs crossed like he’s chilling at some park, and starts putting together these bracelets. fast. you remember being half-stunned, watching him loop bead after bead with ridiculous speed, like he’s been doing it his whole life. and they weren’t just some random bracelets either—they actually looked good. he handed them over, “here you go, should work in a pinch.” like, who does that?

staff!joshua who ended up with half the crew wanting to know where he learned to make accessories like that, and he just shrugged, all humble, “oh, just a thing i used to do in high school.” as if that made sense.

next show, next country, you look out and see rows and rows of fans with identical bracelets. like, those beads? they’ve become a thing. suddenly, everyone wants one, and your socials are blowing up with people asking where they can get cute and colorful bracelets. you’d joked with him after, “might as well start selling these on the merch table,” and he’d laughed, soft and shy, scratching the back of his neck like he wasn’t used to the attention.

staff!joshua who, honestly, makes you wonder if he’s real, he’s always got everything covered, it’s late nights and early mornings, but somehow, he’s always there, making sure you have your coffee just the way you like it, that your schedule isn’t packed to the point of breaking. he’s the one who keeps track of your favorite snacks and stashes them in your backpack, knowing you’ll dig around for them at some ungodly hour.

staff!joshua who insists on walks when there’s downtime to make you less tense, taking you through narrow city streets, where he points out little cafes he researched beforehand, claiming it was just “a lucky find.” he laughs off your suspicions, saying, “it’s just a coincidence,” but you know he’s been studying maps like a tour guide, making sure you get to see more than just hotel lobbies and dressing rooms. he’ll hold your things so you can snap photos or just take in the sights, occasionally stepping back to give you a moment. always there, hovering just close enough to shield you if a crowd forms or if you need a break from everything.

staff!joshua who’s not just watching out for you but keeping an eye on every single person who shows up at airports or outside venues. he scans the crowd with that gentle look in his eyes, like he’s really seeing each one of them, making sure no one’s fainting or overheating. if he notices someone looking a bit off, he doesn’t hesitate, signaling to security or even paramedics to help them out, all while giving them this reassuring smile that somehow calms them down.

staff!joshua who knows when fans come up to you during your downtime and sees that look in your eyes, the tiny hesitation. he’ll lean over, voice soft, asking, “do you want to?” like it’s totally up to you, and it’s cool either way. if you’re not feeling it, he’s got the most polite, warm way of explaining, “i’m so sorry, but it’s y/n’s break right now.” no harshness, no impatience—just enough kindness that no one feels brushed off. but if you nod and say yes, he’s right there, practically crouching to make sure the angles are perfect, even telling the fan how to hold the camera for the best lighting. he gets the shots that’ll probably be framed on some bedroom wall or locked screens forever.

staff!joshua who goes from quietly fussing over your needs to casually slipping into a role that makes every fan interaction feel like the best one of their life. he’s got this way of making them feel comfortable, throwing in a gentle “don’t be nervous,” or even laughing softly to ease the anxiety.

staff!joshua who, without you even realizing it, has gone from that fresh-faced kid with the soft smile to a full-on bodyguard. he’s bulked up over time, muscles straining against the sleeves of his shirts, and when he’s guiding you through a crowded airport or weaving through backstage chaos, you catch more than a few fans sneaking glances his way. he doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe he does, but he brushes it off.

staff!joshua who makes it a point to be in the hotel gym at whatever strange hour you decide to work out. he’s on his own schedule, of course, but he’s catching your attention even mid-workout. he doesn’t say much about it, but you know he’s thinking about your safety, wanting to be strong enough to keep you shielded with his... big chest.

staff!joshua who tries to stay professional when your hand naturally drifts to his arm. it’s like a habit now; his biceps have become your security blanket, something to hold onto when you’re being rushed through a crowd or stepping out of a car in sky-high heels. he’ll give you a quiet amused look, lips pressing together like he’s trying not to smile, but he never says anything about it.

staff!joshua who feels the burn of your touch whenever you steady yourself by pressing your hand against his muscular chest. maybe it’s to fix a shoe strap or straighten your skirt, his breath hitches every time, it’s like a test of his equilibrium, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep himself in check, especially when he catches your smirk.

staff!joshua who’s always one step ahead, guiding you with a gentle but firm hand on the small of your back when you’re navigating a crowded room.

staff!joshua who instinctively stands between you and the flash of cameras, positioning himself just enough to cover you from the harsh lights and endless stares. he doesn’t need to ask; he just knows when to move, leaning close “just stay behind me”

staff!joshua who never complains when you tug at his sleeve for attention, even if it’s the fifth time that hour. attentive look, ready to listen to whatever you need, whether it’s fixing a wardrobe mishap or finding the perfect hiding spot when the crowds get overwhelming.

staff!joshua who’s confused when you grab him and pull him into the wardrobe corner, pointing at the zipper like it’s some life-or-death situation. his face goes a little pink as he takes in the view—your tits all squished up, struggling against the fabric, and his hands practically itching to fix it. “are you sure?” he mumbles, glancing from you to the zipper and back, but there’s no time to pause; you’re due on stage any second.

staff!joshua who keeps his eyes fixed on that zipper, swallowing hard as he tries to get a grip on himself and on the stubborn thing trapping you. his fingers brush against your skin, and you feel him tense up, his breath quickening just slightly. he’s so close you can smell his cologne, fresh and warm, mixing with the backstage chaos, and it’s making it way harder for you to focus on anything else. “just… stay still..” he mutters, his voice a little shaky.

staff!joshua who practically loses it when the stylist finally throws up her hands and says, “just rip it off, joshua! we don’t have time.” his eyes go wide, panic flickering over his face, but then he nods, taking a deep breath. he plants his hands on either side of the fabric, his biceps flexing under his shirt as he grabs hold and gives one solid yank. there’s a loud rrrriiip, and the zipper splits apart, fabric tearing away like it’s nothing under his grip.

staff!joshua who is definitely not prepared for the way the fabric slips, your tits practically jumping in his face, leaving him blinking, wide-eyed, desperately trying to look anywhere else while you scramble to pull on your next outfit. he’s frozen for a second, like he’s processing what just happened, then quickly steps back.

staff!joshua who always insists on separate rooms whenever you’re on tour, like it’s some line in the sand he won’t cross, because he’s all about “boundaries.” but thank god for that, honestly, because the last thing you need is him realizing just how often your mind wanders to him in the quiet of your room after a show, the adrenaline still in your veins. nights like that, when you’re alone and all you can think about is the way he’s looked at you backstage, muscles tense as he keeps everything under control—never fails on making you horny.

staff!joshua who doesn’t know how many times you’ve slipped into your bed and imagined him there with you, his big hands choking you, slapping your face, his mouth kissing you, sucking you, that quiet and respectful control of his breaking just for you. you let yourself get lost in the thought of him, and in the safety of your own room, you give in to all those bottled-up feelings, whispering his name under your breath, touching yourself, feeling your pulse race as you imagine him actually being there.

staff!joshua who has no clue that some nights, you’re too far gone to even muffle the sounds you make, pressing a hand to your mouth as you cum, breathy little sighs slipping out, like he’s actually there. you always tell yourself you’ll be quieter next time, but every show seems to make it worse, every touch from him leaving a trail of him that lasts long after he’s gone.

staff!joshua who probably wouldn’t know what to do if he ever caught you like that—caught you in the middle of one of those late-night moments, your head thrown back, his name slipping from your lips, no shame. the thought alone is almost too much to handle, but you keep going back to it, night after night, letting yourself imagine just a little more.

staff!joshua who, one night, knocks on your door to deliver something you left behind in the venue dressing room, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re in there, already lost in thoughts of him. you dont even hear the knock over the sounds of your own pussy, and you don’t realize he’s actually come in, quietly calling your name, until you see his shadow across the wall.

staff!joshua who stands there frozen for a second, just staring, his fingers fumbling with the doorknob like he’s trying to make a quick exit but forgot how doors work.

when he finally remembers to turn the handle, ends up pulling it the wrong way, the door making this awkward little squeak as he fumbles to open it again. he’s all flushed and stuttering out apologies, but he’s rooted in place, eyes darting back to you like he’s trying to process what he just walked in on and failing miserably.

your heart its almost jumping from your chest, but you let the duvet slip just a little, the fabric falling away from your legs, exposing the curve of your thigh, the soft line of your hip. his eyes follow it, widening just slightly, his fingers gripping the door handle even tighter.

staff!joshua who, when you tug his wrist gently, doesn’t resist, he lets you pull him closer until he sits by your side, as you whine “joshua… come here,” in that low, inviting way, and something shines in his eyes, like you’ve struck a nerve he’s tried so hard to keep hidden.

staff!joshua who finally presses his lips to your neck, his hand moves up your thigh, fingers fastly pushing the duvet away, leaving you naked. when he finally slides his hand over you, through your damp folds, the feel of his fingers brushing your swollen clit, making your nipples harden.

his thumb presses the clit savoring the reaction he’s getting from you. you can tell he’s testing every little gesture, finding what makes you pant, what makes your hips move toward him.

staff!joshua who presses his fingers in, slipping past the wet folds, to the gummy walls, the first slide inside so warm, so deep, and you let out a moan—that you don't have to hold anymore, afraid that he would hear from the next room—your pussy already clenching around him. he groans softly, leaning over you, his arm flexing as he presses deeper, his other hand coming up to grip one of your wrist up your head, holding you steady as his fingers curl impossibly tight. you can feel the tension in him, the restraint, but the way his fingers move, lets you know he’s not holding back with his touch, at least.

“like that?” he asks, and you nod, swallowing down a shaky breath as he picks up the pace.

staff!joshua who starts to move his fingers a little deeper, making a funny wet sound, until you’re gripping the duvet, your head tipping back.

staff!joshua who, lets out a low chuckle everytime you moan a little louder. “what was that hm? a moan? for me? tell me..”

staff!joshua when he notices you squirming under his touch, about to cum he teases more “so needy... you don’t even have to say it.” he pauses, letting the fingers sink in, as you feel his other hand come up to grip your thigh, holding you as he continues. “what would they all say if they saw you right now?” he muses. “you know, you make it so hard for me to be professional sometimes.”

staff!joshua who, when he notices you clenching your fists in the duvet, laughs softly, a low, wicked sound. “go on,” he whispers, his fingers curling just right. “let me hear everything.”

staff!joshua that after every single time you thought you’d caught your breath, would lean down, “not done yet, sweetheart,” before sending you spiraling right back. destroying your poor swollen cunt after cumming multiple times..

staff!joshua next morning, is already at the hotel breakfast with the crew, sitting perfectly, like he didn’t just ruin you the night before. he watches you walk in, eyes glinting as he sees the way you’re moving—trying to walk normally, but the subtle limp gives it all away.

staff!joshua who has the audacity to pat the empty chair next to him, tilting his head with an innocent expression as if he’s not the reason you’re struggling to walk. “sleep well?” he asks, but you know he's holding back a laugh. you shoot him a glare, but he just raises an eyebro.

staff!joshua who leans in, voice quiet enough that only you can hear, and whispers, “if you need me to help you up to your room after this, just say the word,” his fingers brush against your knee under the table, so subtle that no one else would notice, but it’s enough to remind you of every. single. thing. he did to you last night.

staff!joshua who has no problem keeping that perfect poker face as the morning goes on, answering questions, making small talk with the crew, all while casting you the occasional glance. every time he catches you shifting in your seat, trying to get comfortable, he hides a smirk behind his coffee mug, thoroughly enjoying the sight of you flustered and sore, his own private victory.

[awrkive]

PLEASE LET CNBL COUPLE HAVE THEIR SEXTAPE 🤤 i think oc would be down to that idea but i get why jungkook is taking things slow too but my man is a simp fr he would put it in a loop because he’s obsessed with his girlfriend

i got u anon. ive got an ask about it sometime ago abt what miss cnbl!oc feels about digital s*x or film s*x. thought of an idea. this is 2 years after wncl, which is sorta kinda like the sequel of cnbl lols. anyways this is kinda self indulgent and honestly just an excuse to write smut 😭

summary: jungkook can't bear being away from you, and so you give him a solution

w/c: 2k lol

warning/s: consensual filming, unprotected s*x, cre*mpies

Jungkook can get pretty intense during reunions. In fact, intense is an understatement. He absolutely goes fervent, and you can’t blame him when you missed him just as bad too. 

“Ngh– fuck, I miss you so much, baby. I miss you every fucking day,” he groans into your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you at that pace that’s just so right. Not too fast. Not too slow. Just enough to make you keen; to make you grip the sheets behind you so tight. Just enough to not make it hurt when you've already come two times from his mouth and tongue, and another two times from his dick. Consequently, he's already two creampies inside your pussy and it's not even been a full hour.

And just when you thought that he’d be satisfied by the last time, he’s now determined on coaxing a fifth release from you. 

Frankly, you don’t know if you can do it. Sure, there was one time last year when he made you cum seven times in a row – and Jungkook still talks about it like a kid high on sugar, mentions it every now and then, keeps on wanting to do it again sometime – but it’s too bad you can’t keep up with him all of the time. Jungkook’s stamina is high and yours isn’t all that exemplary.

But you do try your best to match it because you love it just as well. You love the feeling of his cum shooting inside your hole, him pushing it back into you in that non-overbearing possessive manner, and how he always tells you you’re such a good girl for taking more and more, just letting him give and give. 

It’s why you encourage him to get you to cum again – because god, you really also missed him so fucking bad. 

He just got back from LA, just arrived at your place five hours ago, and you expected him to sleep the whole night in – not when you know he worked so hard back there. His team just bagged a win, and they’re moving onto semis the next few weeks. 

But Jungkook informed you that he had to leave again in six days – had to train across oceans again with the team. Said that he just begged his coach to get him a one-week vacay when others only got four. 

It’s not unfair when he’s the star player of the team he’s been winning for in the entirety of the last year. Jungkook’s an NBA player who has gained much bigger success and popularity ever since he got drafted, despite being so young and fresh to the scene. 

And sure, he basks in it sometimes – likes the praise, likes the way winning makes him feel. He loves playing for the team. Loves the work that he does. 

But one thing he absolutely fucking loathes about it is that he has to fly off across states for a game, and that means leaving the comfort of your shared apartment – leaving you, not being with you. 

And so you understand greatly why he’s intense during reunions. Because as much as you’re happy with your current lawyering – in your second year now – you also miss those days back in college when you could just have each other every single day. 

“Yes, fuck– oh there, baby, that feels so good…” you moan when he hits a particular spot. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he encloses his hot mouth around your nipple again, alternating on suckling and nipping around it, his other hand fondling your other boob. But again, Jungkook seems to be so on edge right now that you let out an “Ow!” at one harsh bite. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook soothes it with a kiss to the tip, hips still moving against yours, cock going at a steady pace in and out of your pussy. “I just missed you so much, pretty girl. Those calls weren’t enough.” He whispers against your chest, this time lapping at your breasts more gently. 

You reach out for the messy locks that sit atop his head, smiling gently down at him even though he can’t see you. 

“Babe?” 

“Hm?”

“Do you want to take a video?” You ask, still caressing his hair. 

You don’t expect the way his hips stutter after your question. The quickness in which he peels his head away from your tits to look at you with a surprised face after that is almost laughable but that would be mean of you.

“What?” 

“A video. Of us. I dunno… maybe it will do us both good if we have something of us while we’re away from each other.” you shrug nonchalantly. 

You both aren’t strangers to sending nudes to each other or sexting in general. Jungkook sends you videos and pictures of his dick a lot of times – unprovoked and even on a random Tuesday at 2 fucking pm. And you send him your tits and risky pictures of you in crotchless panties when you feel like it. (Like when you’re taking a bath and you're feeling a bit raunchy with the soap suds all over your breasts… Jungkook gets so drunk off the pictures that he fucks you so good once he gets ahold of you in person.)

It used to be just tits but you’ve upgraded to pussy pics… hey, it’s just that you’ve grown more comfortable overtime.

Being with Jungkook for three years now, you can say that you’ve tried a lot of things with sex. But somehow… you’ve never really tried making a sex tape. 

Sure, Jungkook’s brought it up before. Asked you if you were interested in the idea – but you answerwd with an affirmative no. Photos were okay, but videos were off-limits, and Jungkook was completely fine with that. It is your body, and he understands thoroughly the anxiety that you have behind the idea of sexual digital footprint – you’re a woman after all, there’s ultimately danger as a consequence to the very idea. 

It’s not even Jungkook you don’t trust. God, you trust him so much – but it’s this paranoia about imaginary people who are out to get you. 

And so that has always held you back. 

But right now, as you feel Jungkook’s frustration about the long distance thing as much as his love while he drives you up the headboard with his loving, passionate thrusts, you can’t help but think that maybe you can give this a try. 

Filming a sextape, you meant. 

“Are you sure?” Jungkook blinks up at you, eyes wide as it opens and blinks continuously. 

You chuckle. “Yes. Why do you look so surprised?”

Jungkook smiles shyly, and it’s adorable because he’s literally balls deep in you right now. 

“I thought it was no-go.” 

“Please,” you roll your eyes playfully– but you’re soon cut off by a particular thrust. Jungkook knows this too, as he begins peppering kisses all over your jaw, humming to let you know he’s still listening. You stammer a little, but you manage to let out a continuation of your sentence, “I let you put your dick in my ass and spit in my mouth. Nothing is no-go between us at this point.” 

Your joke may not have been the funniest – as it just further riles Jungkook up by the way he suddenly picks up his speec. 

“Oh, fuck, you little minx – you really had to say that, huh?” He emerges from your neck and grabs your jaw – albeit softly. “Get me real fucking hard talking about those.” 

“You can do them to me on camera now.” you say, challenging. And you laugh when you feel him literally freeze. But it’s not as funny anymore when his cock throbs inside of you, and suddenly, you feel the urge to cum again. To release one more time.

He recovers quickly from the shock, though. “Yeah?” 

You gasp when he plunges his cock back into you, only leaving the first half of his length before he enters again. He repeats that motion until your neck is craned back and your eyes are seeing stars. 

“Keep going like that— yes, yes!” You say, starting to get hysterical because you can feel that coil in the pit of your stomach now. 

Just a few more pumps and it will come out anytime soon. 

“You’re so fucking hot and pretty, look at you.” Jungkook sighs, taking a hold of your hips this time so he can hit deeper. And he does hit deeper, alright – that it doesn’t really take too long before you spasm around his length again, your fifth orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

You lie there on the mattress completely lax while Jungkook goes on with a few more erratic trusts until you feel that hot liquid cum shooting straight to your hole. 

The both of you mewl in unison at the sensation, with Jungkook kissing your mouth to bask in the moment.

When he breaks away, he caresses your cheek and plants a sweet peck to the tip of your nose.

“We’re filming the sextape tomorrow but can I take a video of your pussy full of my cum right now?” He asks seriously, and his polite tone – as if he’s requesting something at the White House – makes you laugh again. You're so giggly now that he's back. Go figure.

(How you love him so much.)

“Okay.” you say, and you watch as his eyes widen, cock twitching inside your pussy that he still hasn’t pulled out from you yet.

“Fuck, you’re the fucking best.” He says as he picks up his phone from the nightstand. 

Turning it sideways, he grips the device with his left hand, turning the camera to your body. 

“Just make sure it doesn’t pick up my face, okay?” You say, but nonetheless enjoy the sight of his hooded eyes roaming around your naked body like he’s high on it. 

“I know. I’ll do that.” Jungkook murmurs, but you know he’s distracted, especially when you finally get to see the sudden shift in position where he’s kneeling on his calf now in between your spread legs. “Open wider for me, baby, let the camera see how full you are with my cock and cum.” 

You hiss at that, and you let Jungkook guide your thigh with his free hand as he helps you spread the two of them wider.

“Hold them for me, princess, just a min.” Jungkook says, folding your knees until they’re all up in your chest. With his help, you relax in that position, waiting for what he does next. “Good. Good girl. Always so behaved…” he trails off, and slowly, he slides out his cock from your heat. 

Jungkook thinks your face is the most beautiful he’s ever seen and your pussy stuffed, leaking with his cum is a close second. 

“Fuck.” He whispers, making sure the camera captures just how white your pussy is now with his thick cum – a product of five straight orgasms he’d coaxed out from you. He wants to highlight the way your pussy throbs, but sadly with the bad lighting and him using a phone camera, he can’t. 

Still, he relishes in the high of seeing you bare like this. With the tip of his cock just right beside your pussy, he slides the crown back to gather all the cum that dripped out, pushing it back into you. 

There's an overspill that coats his dick as well, and it’s making him feel things. Like his cock getting hard again even though he just came the second time. 

“Oh, Jungkook…” You sigh out, feeling overstimulated now. But as you look at his face, completely distracted, you enjoy the view instead. “You like that, baby?” You ask meekly, thinking that maybe he’d like that when he watches this again. 

“So fucking much, you have no fucking idea.” Jungkook huffs. “You’re so full already but there’s still so much leaking out.” 

“That’s all of you, Jungkook,” You say sweetly. 

“Hm. I know… shit… I just wanna do this everyday.” 

“Film is?” You snort. 

“Fucking you… being with you. I was going crazy in my hotel room at LA. Just wanna be with you all the time.” He laments. Jungkook presses on the phone and suddenly, he puts it back on the nightstand. 

“Awe. Poor baby.” You respond, tapping his forearm, putting your legs down while Jungkook soothes your thighs with gentle rubbing. 

You thought he’s done for the night, but suddenly, he says, “Angel, I may have lied. Can we film the sextape tonight, please?” 

You laugh. Again. And Jungkook just falls down your body, snuggles close to your chest as you instantly play with his hair. 

“Alright.” You say, craning your neck down to press a kiss on the crown of his head. 

[wandascosmic]

enough for you

wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: in which your girlfriend natasha makes you feel like you're never enough. (based off enough for you by olivia rodrigo)

word count: 2069

tags: angst, toxic relationship, insecurity, arguments, cheating, reader feels unloved (and unworthy of love), poor reader can never catch a break, cryptic mention of reader's mother being dead, self- hatred, reader's so sad, nat sucks (like a lot), but wanda comes through at the end like she always does and they have a little meet-cute :), i wrote this in one sitting while listening to enough for you on a loop

part two: so american

You sigh as you try to do your makeup in your mirror as flawlessly as possible. Every blemish or mark on your face needed to be covered up so you could look perfect for Nat. You were desperate to measure up to the gorgeous women Nat has dated before you and for that, you needed to look absolutely pristine.

In the past year, you’ve done so many new things you weren’t fond of just for Nat to like you. From nearly destroying every single muscle in your body at the gym just to measure up to her rigorous exercise routine, all the way to learning how to cook and bake every single one of her favorite foods until it was all you two ever ate despite your dislike for the majority of her preferred meals, you’ve tried so hard to be everything that Nat liked so she wouldn’t get sick of you. 

You frown slightly, Nat has never once acknowledged your kind gestures and actions, nor reciprocated them. 

“I’m just not the compliment type, Y/N, just drop it,” she had told you one time when you had confronted her on why she never acknowledged your efforts. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded wordlessly. 

***

“I made you your coffee,” you told Nat as she entered the kitchen in the morning. 2 creams, no sugar, just how you like it. 

Nat nodded and took the mug from you, sitting down at the table and barely paying any attention to your gesture. 

Clearing your throat, you tell her, “I also got up early this morning to buy tickets for us to go to that band I know you’ve been wanting to go to for a while.” You cross your fingers behind your back, hoping for her to tell you you’re good enough for her just this once. 

“Sorry, babe, Carol already got them for me,” she responds, your heart falling to your stomach. Putting her empty mug in the sink, she plants a kiss on your lips. “Besides, you don’t even know the lyrics to their songs.” She leaves you on your own in the kitchen. 

I know all of them by heart because of you. 

***

“Hey, Y/N?” Nat asks you one night on the couch. 

“Yeah?” you respond, turning to face your girlfriend. 

“I don’t really feel like myself these days.” Nat pauses. “Do you know what might help?” Despite the content of her question, you still smile, because this was your chance. This was your chance to show her that you might truly be worth loving. 

“First, I’m always here if you need to talk,” you say softly, but Nat makes no sound of acknowledgment next to you. “And second, make your own decisions you believe will be beneficial to you, just for yourself, and do the things that bring you fulfillment,” you explain. 

Nat finally turns and looks at you thoughtfully. “How did you figure that one out?” 

“I read your self-help books,” you reply sheepishly. I read all of them. 

“Wow, you’re pretty smart,” Nat replies, going back to the movie the two of you were watching together. 

And you smile for the rest of the night because that’s the first compliment Nat has given you since you first started dating a year ago. 

***

You and Nat had a fight. It isn’t the first time, but it’s the first time it’s hurt you this much as you truly take in your current reality. 

You’re crying in your shared room, Nat leaving you to go out for drinks you assume. 

Earlier tonight, you made the stupid mistake of asking why she was never there for you, it was during the heat of the moment, but your outrage felt justified due to the fact that she missed your award ceremony for your article in medical research (the third time this year she’s missed one of them but you did your best to forgive her before this), and she had simply scoffed at you telling you that it wasn’t even a big deal anyways. 

But this one was a big deal to you. 

It was research that could have saved your mother. 

“I nearly get killed every time I go out on the job, Y/N! Some stupid neuroscience article is nothing compared to that!” she yelled at you, exhausted from her day at work. 

Your eyes flooded with hurt as Nat’s filled with regret. 

“Wait, I’m sorry,” she said remorsefully. 

The first sign of remorse she’s ever shown you. 

“It’s fine, Nat,” you reply, trying to keep your tears at bay. You weren’t even in neuro, but that didn’t matter. Not to her. “Just go out, like you wanted.” You wave her off to go upstairs to your room. 

“Y/N, wait-” 

You didn’t listen, shutting the door before collapsing to your knees as you started to sob. 

Stupid, emotional, and obsessive. That was what you were. 

***

Nat has been home late for the past few nights, your worry increasing with each passing day. It’s probably something to do with work, but something feels off. 

“Where were you?” you ask Nat as she enters the front door. “I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I just got held up at work,” Nat doesn’t make eye contact with you. 

“Oh, okay,” you say softly, feeling oddly small compared to your girlfriend. “Couldn’t you have called?” 

“For god’s sake, Y/N, my phone was dead. God, you’re so clingy,” Nat bites back, walking past you to go straight up to your room and slamming the door. 

You sigh, heading for the guest room since you know Nat won’t let you sleep next to her tonight. 

Suddenly, you hear Nat’s phone go off. And you realize that she had left it by the front door. 

Picking it up, you notice, that it’s at nearly full charge. 

Your brows furrow as you see the message your girlfriend received. 

Carol: Had a great time tonight, Nat. 

You don’t stop crying until the sun rises, one phrase ringing through your head the whole night. 

What are you doing wrong? 

***

“Am I not as interesting as the girls she’s dated before me?” you cry to Yelena as she rubs your back in comfort. 

“My sister is an idiot,” Yelena mutters, seeing how your relationship with Nat is tearing you apart. 

“What?” you choke out through your tears. 

“I think you love her more than anyone she’s ever had, and she couldn’t care less.” 

“She’s breaking my heart, Lena,” you sniffle. “But more than that, she’s breaking me.” 

You cry harder into your best friend’s arms.

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” you sob into her shoulder.  

***

“Where were you?” you ask Nat as she comes home past midnight once again. 

“I was at the compound, we had a villain that got out so we had to take care of him.” 

You nod, but Tony already sent you the camera footage for tonight after you told him about your issues with your girlfriend and you know she was with Carol. 

“Are you sure?” you inquired. 

“Yes, Y/N,” Nat says exasperated. “For god’s sake, why are you never satisfied with whatever I do?” she says walking past you. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” you tell Nat from behind her. 

“What?” she says, turning around to face you. 

“You’re never satisfied with me,” you state. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted is to be good enough for you, but nothing I ever do for you seems to make you happy.” 

Nat scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.” 

“I know you were with Carol tonight,” you reveal. 

“No, I wasn’t,” she denies. 

“Tony sent me the footage, I know there was no villain. I know you’re cheating on me, and I know that you never cared about me,” you state. 

“Fine, whatever, I’m going to bed,” Nat says, completely disregarding you and everything she’s done to destroy the person you once were. 

“We’re done, Nat,” you tell her as she walks up the stairs to your once-shared room. 

Nat waves you off like you’ve never meant anything to her. 

And maybe you never did. 

***

“I loved her so much, I still do, and all she did was use me, then throw me away like I meant nothing to her,” you tell Yelena at the drink bar. Nat was away on a mission, so Yelena thought it might be fun for you to join her at one of the Avengers parties. 

“Don’t worry Y/N,” Yelena tells you. “I could tell her to apologize to you, but clearly she’s got some issues to figure out within herself before she can resolve any outside.” 

You nod wordlessly. 

What Yelena says then surprises you, “But honestly? She should be the one feeling sorry for herself.” You look at her curiously. “Someday, there will be someone out there who will love you as deeply as you love them.” 

“I don’t know, Lena,” you say softly. “Nat was everything to me.” 

“Someday, Y/N, you’ll be everything to somebody else.” 

***

1 year later

You’re running late for work, rushing out the door of the coffee shop, and you don’t notice the fact that you’ve bumped into someone until your coffee spills all over the floor, making you gasp. 

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry,” you tell the figure in front of you, and suddenly you freeze, at the sight of her glimmering emerald green eyes. Like Nat’s, but eternally softer. Eternally more curious. 

“Oh, no worries,” she says with a smile, pulling a few napkins out of her purse. 

“I didn’t spill any on you, did I?” you ask the woman, your mind a mess due to your embarrassment at spilling your coffee, but still quite fuzzy at the sight of her undeniable beauty. 

If you weren’t so much of a useless homosexual, you would bend down and help her clean the coffee she’s currently wiping away. Much like how she’s wiping away your ability to form any sort of cohesive thought. 

“No, I’m ok,” she laughs, standing up once more once all the coffee’s gone. “C’mon, let me buy you a new one.” 

Your eyes widen. “Oh, no, it’s not a big deal. Besides, it’s completely my fault for bumping into you-” 

“I want to,” she cuts off with a soft smile. 

“Oh,” you say softly. “Okay,” you finally resign to the comforting look she gives you.  

“Let me just make a quick phone call,” you let her know, hoping she doesn’t leave. 

“Take your time,” she assures. 

You smile gratefully. 

Your phone call was to call in sick to work for the second time in your life –you didn’t have a busy day today and you were running late anyways– and it was all to spend time with a pretty girl.  

On any other day you’d probably laugh at how pathetic you were, but this woman made you feel an odd sense of uncertainty within your life. 

Like nothing had ever made sense before her. 

Once you hang up the phone, you turn to see the woman already standing there, a white to-go coffee cup with a bit of steam escaping the spout. 

“Here’s your coffee,” the woman hands you the cup with a big smile as you pocket your phone. You inspect the label, your mouth parting slightly in shock once you see all of your preferred customizations. Done perfectly. 

“How do you know my coffee order?” you ask. 

“I took the label off the old one,” she says, showing you the sticker in the palm of her hand. “Want to sit?” She points to the array of round tables within the cafe.  

“I don’t even know you,” you say slowly. I called in sick to work for you, it’s a little too late for that. 

The brunette woman laughs before holding out her hand for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Wanda,” she says. 

“Y/N,” you respond, shaking her outstretched hand as your face flushes slightly at its softness. 

“See? Now we know each other,” Wanda says cheekily. 

You nod with a shy smile, following her to the table in the back as the two of you settle down into a small conversation. 

Somehow, the two of you spend the rest of the day talking and laughing, and you think it might be the best day of your life. 

Little do you know, Wanda thinks so too.

part two: so american