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envy-of-the-apple · 7 months ago

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Infinite Rewind

Gojo Satoru x reader

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

Part two: Rewound Infinitely

Word Count: 18.1k

(Warnings: slight yandere, death, murder, inaccurate Tokyo geography, blood, violence, mild gore, obsession, unhealthy relationships, child abuse/neglect, time looping(?), fem!reader) Ageless blogs that try to follow me will be blocked

First, you saw a monster.

It was big and horrible—nasty teeth. You heard screaming. People. Running as fast as they could away from the creatures. Pain.

And then, you saw a bright, clear sky.

The sun was blaring down at you. It was so hot. Wasn't it December? How was the sun out at night?

"Hey, you good?"

A girl is looking at you. Short brown hair. A high schooler, judging by the uniform. How is she wearing all black when the weather is so hot?

When you don't respond, her eyes squint.

"Suguru, are you okay?"

That's not your name; your mouth moves faster than your brain.

"I-I'm fine." That wasn't your voice. It was deeper. More masculine. What the fuck happened to your voice?

The girl gives you another strange look but you're too busy freaking out over your new voice. Your hands are different too. A completely different skin tone, larger.

And then you're fumbling with your pockets, clothes you know you didn't buy. The girl is calling for you again but you're too busy pulling out a fucking flip-phone and looking into the black screen, the only thing you have for a mirror.

Purple eyes stare back. These aren't your eyes. This isn't your nose. This isn't your hair. This isn't your face. You blink. He does too. You open your mouth. So does he. You pinch your cheek. In the reflection, he winces.

Oh, you just fucking bodysnatched someone.

ⴵ

Ten minutes later, you conclude that your name is Geto Suguru, you are a 16-year-old boy, the year is 2006, and you attend a religious academy.

"You're finally acting normally again." The girl-newly discovered as Ieiri- says. "No more weirdness."

You don't blame her, considering you grabbed her by the shoulders, asking ridiculous questions like: what year is it, who am I, why am I here, who are you, am I dead, is this Hell, etc. For a teenage girl, she took your outburst well.

"Sorry," you say and by now you've gotten used to your voice, "it must have been the stress from studying."

She just hums, continuing to walk beside you. Though, Ieiri had a point. You were definitely calmer, and it was mostly because you figured it out.

You were dreaming.

You were lucid dreaming, to be more precise. Your brain was conjuring up a weird setting and you just happened to be placed in another person's body. You heard about this happening before. You were just so freaked out because this was the first time anything like this had happened to you.

An impulsive part of you wants to tell Ieiri that this is just a dream, but you've heard weird things happen after a lucid dreamer tries to break the illusion. It's best if you just let it just play out and see where this goes.

“Excited?”

“Hm?” You ask. And Shoko rolls her eyes.

“For the mission you have this evening. Special grade. Sounds scary.” She says, her sarcasm evident.

Mission? Special grade? You don’t know what those words mean but it sounds like a school field trip. Shoko takes your hesitance as something else.

“Ah,” she says, “so you forgot.”

“I didn’t.” You reply on instinct.

“I expected this from Satoru, not you. You should stop hanging out with him, he’s starting to rub off on you.”

You give a sheepish laugh, and it’s enough to quell her questions.

She leads you into the school, all through the winding halls and through an office door. You couldn’t be more grateful, it’s not like you would have known where to go. It’s a teachers room. Two people are already inside.

“Wait, for once, I’m early?” The boy with sunglasses asks, voice dripping with amusement. He’s leaning dangerously on a chair. You stare at him. You’ve never seen someone with white hair before. It can’t be real.

“He forgot.” Shoko pipes up and the boy cackles.

“That’s hilarious. I’m starting to rub off on you.” Ah, this must be Satoru.

You give a nervous smile. “Haha, yeah.”

The boy stops rocking in the chair. Three pairs of eyes look at you. Your uniform feels itchy.

“Gojo, stop making such a ruckus.” The man, presumably his teacher, gruffs. "You two got the briefing yesterday. Do your job and for the last time do not leave your assistant manager behind again."

Gojo groans, and you delve into more confusion. Before you can say anything, the kid is hopping out of his seat before lazily striding out the door. Shoko and the teacher look at you expectantly.

Oh, you were supposed to follow him.

Not wanting to make a scene, you catch up to Gojo. He's tall, his footsteps are long and wide. But you're tall now too, so it's easy to keep up with him. This new body of yours has a lot of pros.

"Yaga's so annoying," Gojo suddenly says, "constantly nagging us like that. It's not our fault the assistants can't keep up."

What should you say? You clear your throat.

"He just wants what's best for us."

Wrong answer.

"Where'd that come from?" He snorts. How charming. "I know you agree with me. You're just tryna' act like the nicer one, again. It's starting to get a little old."

Is that how 16 year-olds talk? Rude, but also strangely off-putting, like he can see straight through you. Or more accurately, he can see straight through Suguru. How close are these two, anyway?

Why did any of these questions even matter? This is a dream! You need to wake up already.

On the campus grounds, a sleek black car waits outside for you two. Along with a miffed man in a black suit. This must be a very rich school for a field trip to have a chauffeur. Where were you two going again?

Gojo hops in the back, taking one of the window seats. You take the other. In your own body, you would've fit nicely. But Suguru's legs are long, and the spacious car feels cramped. You should've taken the passenger seat. How do tall people live like this?

The ride is quiet. Out the corner of your eye, you catch Satoru type away on his flip phone. A moment later, yours beeps. You still have no idea how to use Suguru's phone or his password, so you ignore his message. Satoru groans.

Quickly, you learn that Satoru has a very low attention span. When looking out the window gets boring, he bugs the chauffeur. When the chauffeur ignores him, he starts bugging you.

"Hey heyyyy," Satoru says, "when this is all over, we should go to that new ice cream place. Like you said, we should."

You look at him. "Uh, sure." You say.

"And you should pay for it, 'cuz you said you owed me last time."

Fine, whatever. "Sure thing."

He grins. You can't see his glasses, and it makes his smile even more unnerving. This kid.

This doesn't feel like a normal field trip at all. Why did you stop in front of some rackety house that looked as though it were about to collapse? You turn back to the only adult in the vicinity, but he's out too. He takes out a lighter and a cigarette. In front of impressionable children, too. Wonderful.

"I'll wait out here." He says, though his tone is uncaring. "Since we're out in the country, there's no need for a veil. Do your best."

Veil? What? Gojo's already going off again and you've already decided to be his chaperone, so you follow. You reluctantly trail behind him. Feet crunch the leaves. The house grows bleaker and bleaker.

"Okay, I have a plan!" Gojo exclaims when he gets through the squeaky door. He's so loud, can't he be quieter? "I check upstairs and you check the ground floor and the basement. Got it?"

Check the house? Were he and Suguru electricians in training or something? That still wouldn't explain why a grown man decided to drop off two teenagers in front of a creepy mansion. And why in God's name did Gojo want to split up?

"I-I don't think that's a good idea," you say, "shouldn't we try to stick together?" Or, better yet, leave.

He clicks his tongue. "Ugh, you're so lame. Not like Suguru at all."

Wait, what did he say? You're about to call out to him when he climbs up the stairs, disappearing from view. Unbelievable.

This kid was starting to get on your nerves. Enough, you were leaving. You could have a nice dream where you met and fell in love with Zendaya, not babysitting some teenager, whilst possessing another person's body. You were going to wait outside with the man and hope your dream finally came to an end.

Except, you couldn't go outside. The door was gone.

It-it was right behind you, right? The entrance was right behind you. You couldn't have gotten turned around so quickly? What the hell happened? Or maybe you had gotten turned around? Considering how distracting that Gojo kid was, you might not have realized it.

You look around the house. Looks like it'd been abandoned for a while. There's dirt on the shelves. Chairs were toppled over and left to rot. The wooden floorboards dangerously creaked beneath you. Just what had happened here?

There's no patio door. No door leading to the outside. At the same time, you hadn't explored everything yet. Each door led to a room. The only door that didn't, led to a basement. And no, you weren't going down there.

When you got back to where you started, you noticed something had changed.

There was a person. Seated right at the base of the stairs?

Gojo? Was he done with urban exploring? Maybe he knew the way out. He stands up, reaching to his full height, then higher, then higher.

Gojo was tall, but this thing was taller. Gojo was human. This thing wasn't.

What the fuck you can only mouth because your voice is stuck in your throat when it takes a shaky step towards you. It's a black husk of a figure, too skinny but too tall and twitching fingers. You don't know how you could've mistaken this for the kid.

Another step. You're running, back into the house, leaping over the fallen shelves and creaky floorboards. It gives chase, and you can hear it groan behind you. It's deep and rumbly and terrifying. It just motivates you to go faster.

It's slower than you. That's good, but it seems to realize this. You can barely celebrate your advantage before something heavy is smashed into your back, sending you toppling to the floor. You and wooden chair crash on the ground.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

Dreams aren't supposed to hurt. Because this wasn't a dream.

This was real. You were stuck in the year 2006, stuck in another person's body, about to get mauled by a monster.

You were going to die.

You aren't even fighting anymore. How pathetic is that? The shock numbs your body as the thing grows closer and closer, all you can do is reach your hands up, protecting your face.

And then the creature explodes.

An implosion. It's skin and bones twist in a way no one should. There's a shriek, something wrong and high and inhuman before it's gone. Like it never existed in the first place.

After all that, he's still smiling. Like the cat that just caught the mouse.

"I guess we're not pretending anymore, are we?" Gojo asks, stretching his arms. "That's good. That game was starting to get a little boring, anyways. Now, then."

He folds his glasses, tucking it on his uniform. Blue, his eyes are. As blue as a clear sky.

"Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you, and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

ⴵ

Contrary to your belief, Gojo Satoru is a good listener.

There's never an interruption. Not even once. Every once in a while, he nods, a hand on his chin. It's probably because he can't interrupt. You just keep going on and on. Word vomit.

He only speaks when you pause to catch your breath. "So you are from the year 2017, and you went back in time to body-snatch someone. I had a feeling your technique had something to do with possession."

You look at him warily. "Wait, you knew this entire time?"

You two hadn't moved from your earlier spot. You were still sprawled on the floor, still feeling the adrenaline surge through you. Gojo had transitioned to squatting on the floor. He scratches his neck, still so casual.

"I have good eyes. Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Anyway, you seem pretty harmless, and as annoying as it is not having Suguru around, I doubt killing you would do any good." Why is he being so nonchalant about murder? Is this kid really sixteen?

"I think we gotta' just wait around until your technique reactivates." Gojo whistles. "2017. That's like a decade away. I wonder what happened for your technique to show up."

You blink, trying to remember the date.

"It was Christmas Eve..." You glance at him. "And then I was here."

He thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I got nothing." Of course.

He sighs, before sprawling on the dirty floor, belly up. You grimace at his antics but choose to keep your mouth shut.

He doesn't seem very worried. At the most, he looks mildly inconvenienced. Why isn't he worried about his friend?

When you ask him, he just snorts.

"Sorry, but you're not that scary. Besides, I don't have to worry about Suguru. He's strong."

Well, that's nice to know, but one other thing still bothers you.

"You speak so casually to me," you mutter, "You know I'm older than you, right? I'm 22."

He laughs. "22? Damn. You're old, man."

"That isn't old!" You argue. "You have no concept of age since you're just a teenager." And why did he assume you were a man? Oh right, you were trapped in a teenage boy’s body. Of course.

"I mean, technically, I'm older than you, right?" Gojo ponders with a grin. "If you're 22 in 2017, that makes you what—11 in 2006?"

You say nothing because you have a feeling that if you continue to argue with him, he'll just drag you down to his insanity.

"Technique, you've said that a couple of times." You look at him. "That's what you call your 'powers', right? Does Geto have one too?"

"Yeah," Gojo says, "but you can't use it. You have zero cursed energy. Honestly, it's at the same level as a plant. A bit lower than regular humans. It's a little impressive, actually." For one second, could he stop being so condescending?

"What's his technique?" You ignore his comments. "Could it be related to how I got here?"

He gives you a look over. "I doubt that, but Suguru's technique is curse manipulation. Uh, you remember that thing you saw earlier." You nod. "Yeah, he can control and absorb them."

He sounds pretty awesome. You look at your hands. Not your hands. Geto's hands. They're paler than yours, and a lot longer. This isn't your body. Your soul can feel it. You can feel the guilt too.

'I'd give it back if I could,' you think, 'I just don't know how.'

Gojo's getting up. He stretches. He was lying on the ground but you can't see a speck of dirt on his uniform.

"Okay, then. No use mopping around." He grins down at you. "Maybe Yaga can do something about you. Let's get you back to jujutsu tech."

You blink up at him. His hand is outstretched, reaching out to you. He's still grinning that insufferable grin but his eyes have slightly melted.

"Okay." You say, barely touching his fingertips. "Let's-"

And then Gojo's gone. And then, you're standing. And then it's cold.

You're wearing a coat; weren't you wearing a uniform before? There's no clear sky. It's nearly dusk.

You were standing on the sidewalk, where people bustled all around you. You fumble through your jackets, putting out a phone. An actual iphone. You flick on the screen.

December 24th, 2017, 7:06.

Holy shit, you were back.

Was it because you touched Gojo? That makes no sense, but how could you explain anything else that happened so far? God. You rake a hand through your hair. Your hand. Your hair. You can't believe how much you missed yourself. It felt so good to be back.

Your mind is spinning, you had no idea what the fuck just happened.

For now, you just wanted to turn your mind off and grab a drink.

You know there was a bar not too far from your location. Along the way, you pass by the bustling town. There's a couple walking side by side, giggling over something you couldn't hear. Right, it's the 24th. You remember your empty bed with no one to share it with, and you cement your desire to drown yourself in alcohol today.

Your self-pitying session is almost how you nearly miss him. His shoulder brushes past you. You're about to apologize when you hear his voice. It's familiar.

It used to be your voice.

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool. His broad back is the only thing you see, you're almost afraid to reach out to him.

"Suguru...?"

He halts in his tracks. When he turns around, it's like looking into a fractured past. He looks older, no longer a youthful teenager. You should have paid more attention to his eyes, how scrutinizing they were, how condescending his fake smile was. All that you could think of was that it was actually him.

"Do I know you?" He tilts his head. "Apologies, but my girls and I are quite busy."

You don't notice the two young ladies beside him until Geto points them out. Teenagers, maybe just around the age when you first met him. He was a father now.

You're so swept up by the emotions that you barely notice they've continued walking. You stumble behind, ducking behind the alleyway they went into.

"Wait! Geto!" You call. "Please! We need to talk!" You still needed your answers. You didn't know care how desperate you came off as.

In hindsight, you should have noticed that they looked more annoyed than worried about a stranger chasing them across the street.

The one with the ponytail scoffs. "This one talks an awful lot. How annoying."

Geto sighs. He leaves his daughters, finally standing in front of you. This is what you wanted, right? A chance to talk to him.

Still, you can't help but feel wrongness within you. His smile is off.

"Most monkeys are just that, unfortunately." You don't move. You can't. Not when he places a hand on your skull. "I suppose it'd be humane to put this one out of its misery."

Geto Suguru crushes your skull. And then you die.

ⴵ

Again. You died again.

This is the second time Geto has killed you. Fuck, you should've realized.

"Back again, Greeny?" Gojo asks.

He and Suguru were sitting outside in the grass. Satoru's holding up a few playing cards. You look at Suguru's hands and find yourself doing the same.

Not again.

"What year is it?" You ask warily. "And what did you just call me?"

Gojo grins with teeth. You remember he compared you to a plant before, didn't he? He's so clever with nicknames; someone should give him an award.

"Welcome back to 2006!" Gojo beams. "It's only been a couple of days since you left. And why are you so grumpy? I'm the one who just lost a player."

You weren't grumpy, you were pissed. You figured out what's been going on with you, and it's all because of the asshole you're possessing right now.

The look on his face when he killed you. Like you were nothing more than an animal. A monkey. Now, you feel a lot less guilty about possessing his body.

At least you figured out two things. You know how your technique works. Whenever someone kills you, you are sent back in time to take over their body. But you can go back whenever you touch Gojo, or perhaps just another sorcerer.

Secondly, you have access to Geto's memories.

It didn't happen the first time you died. It must have been because the kill wasn't direct (from Getos curse, rather than himself), but milliseconds after Geto split your skull in two, your brain was overwhelmed by his past, his present, as well as his future.

Geto was set to die on December 24th, 2017. At the hands of his best friend, Gojo Satoru.

Fuck him. Let the bastard die. You didn't give a shit.

You reach over to touch Gojo's arm, ready to leave. He pulls back with a snicker. Ugh, the brat must've figured out your technique, too.

"Stop messing around." You tell him. "I need to go back to my timeline."

"Sure, sure," he says as though speaking to a time traveler is just another Tuesday. "But first, finish the game with me."

"No." You tell him before leaning out even further. He isn't moving away anymore, but you still can't reach him. Fuck, he must've activated his technique.

Despite your annoyance, you decide to keep the future away from Gojo's ears. He doesn't need to know that he'll be the one to kill Suguru. He shouldn't. Not at his age. He's just a kid.

"Just one game! I promise!" He pleads. "Then I'll let you go. Suguru never lets me beat him, I want an easy opponent to boost my ego."

You roll your eyes, but you settle down, picking up the cards. You already know the rules; you have Geto's memories, after all.

It's silent, save for Gojo's humming. When you place down your King of hearts, you ask:

"Hey, is my cursed energy different at all?" You ask.

"Not really." He squints. "Wait, it has grown a little. Aw, Greeny sprouted!"

So, every time you die, your cursed energy increases. That, or your cursed energy, increases every time you time travel. It doesn't matter either way. Does this mean you can use Geto's technique now? It couldn't hurt to try, right?

There's a demon-no, they're called curses you know that now- floating beside you, just a little ways away. Small. Barely fourth grade. You stick your hand out, calling out Geto's power. There's a pull, a rush of energy.

A blue ball drops into your hand.

"Holy shit." Gojo leans forward. "So you can use his techniques." Surprisingly, there's no wariness in his voice. Just awe.

"Yeah." You breathe before glancing up at him. "Shouldn't you be focused on your cards?"

He shrugs, tossing the cards away. "What cards?"

You sigh before staring at the ball. Well, you captured the curse. All that's left to do is swallow it, right? You can do that. You open your mouth. Gojo is still staring. You scowl.

"Look away."

He rolls his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you do this before. Well, not you, the guy that you bodysnatched."

Ass, you keep that in your head as you hold your breath. You swallow the ball down.

Instantly, you choke.

It's horrible. Like a rotten carcass on the highway, oozing blood and oil and pus. You start dry-heaving, suffocating, spit dribbles down your chin. Nothing comes out. You've already absorbed it. The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. Like swallowing a rag that was used to wipe up vomit and shit. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested.

"Is it really that bad?" Gojo observes you. "That guy swallows them down, no problem."

Because Suguru was used to this taste. He was used to the responsibility. The hoarding mass of distraught absorbing a curse comes with. It was a disgusting art. Something he'd perfected to mask for years. Until he couldn't take it anymore.

Fuck, you might have lost your mind, too, if you kept having to eat this. To protect people who were happy you failed.

You snapped out of it. Suguru's memories were affecting your own. That's probably a sign that you need to get out of here. No way would you be sympathizing with someone so monstrous.

"Hopefully, I never do that again." You slowly recover, wiping your spit away with your hand. You lean back on your hands, exhausted.

"Something I've always wondered." You call out to Gojo. "What did Suguru ever think about someone possessing his body."

Gojo laughed. "Funny thing. He never knew."

"What?" You look at him. "No gaps in his memory? Nothing?"

"Nope," Gojo said, "he remembered what happened in the house, but he thinks he did everything. And then he said something weird."

You perk up at that. "What did he say?"

Gojo tilts his head. Then, he shrugs.

"I forgot." Typical.

You pinch your nose bridge. "So, did you tell anyone else about...this?" You gesture to yourself.

"Wait, you're supposed to be a secret?" You look at him in alarm. "In my defense, I didn't know, but I haven't gotten the chance to tell anyone. After the mission, Suguru and I went to the arcade, and then I kinda' forgot about it."

Well, at least Gojo's arrogance works in your favor sometimes. You can't let anyone know, especially anyone connected to the higher-ups. From Geto's memories, you know they don't like anything new. It's best to stay under their radar.

"Good, well, from now on, we're keeping it a secret. Got it?"

"What are you two keeping a secret?" A new voice pops up. You jump.

You know him—at least from Geto's memories. Haibara beams at you. He looks so alive in the sunlight, smiling and with bright eyes.

He'll be dead within a year or so.

Gojo takes advantage of your shock. "The bodysnatcher wants me to promise that I won't tell anyone that a curse-user is possessing Suguru's body."

"What the hell? You just promised that you wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Uh, technically, I didn't promise anything yet." Gojo retaliates. "But okay, fiiiiine. I won't tell anyone....except for Haibara." You groan.

"What's going on?" Haibara's smile fades. "Wait, Gojo, is this not Geto? Is this person actually a curse-user!?"

"I'm not a curse-user." You correct. "I'm not a sorcerer either, for the record."

"You just used a curse technique to travel back in time to take over someone's body." Gojo enunciates. "Sounds like a sorcerer to me."

"Wait, you're a time-traveler, Mr. Not-Geto?" Haibara asks and you are genuinely impressed he's able to keep up.

"The name’s Greeny, Haibara." Gojo supplements. Haibara nods, still a bit unsure.

"So...do we fight Greeny?"

"It's not my name." You get ignored.

"Nah, it's all good. Greeny's harmless. Just a weakling, don’t worry about it." Rude, but you don’t think you’d want Gojo to take you as much of a threat, not after knowing what he can do.

"Oh, okay!" Haibara instantly relaxes. The kid's really trusting, huh?

"Okay, fine, but no one else can know, got it, Gojo?" This promise doesn't matter. It's not like you're planning on returning to the past anytime soon. As soon as you return to the present, you are leaving Tokyo and escaping the night parade of 100 demons. Fuck that. You don't want to die again.

He waves you off. "Yeah, yeah."

He's so insufferable. You don't know who's worse: the genocidal maniac or this brat.

"Give me your hand. I want to go home."

Haibara looks confused. "Wait, why does Greeny need your hand?"

"It's how the curse technique works," Gojo explains. "Greeny gets sent back in time, and then my true-love's touch sends him careening forward into the future." You frown at his comment, but he turns to you before you can say anything.

"Which reminds me, Greeny: ever figure out how your technique works?"

No way are you telling a kid that their best friend killed you....twice. Instead, you just shrug.

"Haven't figured it out yet."

Gojo stares at you. "Huh." He responds. "Well, if you ever figure it out, lemme' know."

Sure you will. You hold up your hand. Gojo, finally holds his own up. Out of the corner of your eye, Haibara waves. And then you're back in your own body, on December 24th, 2017, 7:06 pm.

You waste no time. You push at the crowd, squeezing through the hoards of people. You need to get out. You need to leave before the death parade starts, before you're trapped in that terrifying cycle of death again.

You need to leave.

Exorcised. Ingested.

No no no. Shut up. This wasn't you. This was Geto's memories.

Exorcised. Ingested.

You need to leave.

Exorcised. Ingested.

You need to survive.

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows.

You stop, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. People glare, cursing as they move around you. They don't know this place will be a bloodbath in a matter of minutes. They'd all die. But you could stop it.

If only if you hadn't accessed Geto's memories. If only if you hadn't eaten that damn curse. If only if you hadn't sympathized with a murderer. Maybe you'd have the courage to escape your future.

But you'd felt that taste. Horrible. If you eat enough, you could go insane. If you were lonely enough, that would do it too.

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. No one except for you.

At 8:06 the screams start. The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more.

ⴵ

For once, when you open your eyes, Gojo isn’t there with you.

You’re still on the campus of Jujutsu tech. Suguru was just about to grab his soda from the vending machine. You finish his job. The can feels cold. It feels refreshing on your tongue. It’s a momentary distraction to the fact that you have no clue what you’re doing.

You understand your cursed technique, but you still struggle with the application. Fuck, what did you do? You were utterly fucked. You’re playing a dangerous game. If you died- if Geto died- here, what would even happen?

The worst part is that you can’t even think of the hypothetical because there’s no other choice. You needed to do this. To not only save the people in Tokyo from the Night Parade, but to also save Geto Suguru. The man who has killed you three times now.

Geto’s dissent starts to worsen at Riko Amanai’s death. If you could prevent that from happening, you could probably change history. But Geto’s true fracture begins with the curses themselves. They were rotting him from the inside.

You grimace, but you have to do it. You have to eat every single curse that Geto couldn’t swallow down himself.

One was coming up. In less than an hour, Yaga will call you and Gojo for a mission. It’ll be a special-grade grave-type curse. Dispatching it will be simple, but Geto would be the one to exorcise it, ingesting the screams of all that the curse devoured. You needed to prepare yourself for that.

Maybe you should save some of this soda to wash the taste off later.

“Geto!” Someone cheers, you jump, but Haibara’s already poking his head around the wall. He grins.

“Hey! Oh, you’re not Geto, aren’t you?” He tilts his head. “Greeny?”

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper, “wait, you can recognize me?”

He nods, after checking to make sure no one’s around, he says, “yeah, your eyes are different? It’s hard to explain.” He tells you.

Huh. Interesting.

“You’ve been gone a while.” Haibara beams. “It’s been a few weeks. I’m glad you’re back, Gojo was starting to get cranky.”

It’s probably because he had no one to mess with. Poor him. He has all your sympathies. Ass.

“I’m glad to return as his punching back.” You mutter.

Haibara shyly shuffles his feet.

“So, are you really from the future?” He asks. “Was Gojo telling the truth?”

You nod. “Haibara, you haven’t told anyone, right?”

“Of course not!” He instantly says. “Not a soul. Not even Nanami, and I tell him everything! Your secret’s safe with me.”

“And Gojo, too! I know he doesn’t look very trustworthy, but me and him have kept it under wraps.”

Reluctantly, you can’t help but agree with the kid. Gojo is annoying, but so far, he hasn’t done anything super harmful.

“So anyway, Greeny.” He clears his throat. “Considering you’re from the future and all. Would you mind telling me what my future will be like?”

You blink at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Nothing much! I just wanna know what I’ll be doing in 2017. Will I finally be a grade 1 sorcerer?”

You think of Geto’s final memories of Haibara. A child burying another child.

“Sorry,” you lie through your teeth, “but I didn’t know you in my future. Again, I’m not really a sorcerer.”

Haibara nods, disappointed but still very excitable. He asks you about other things about the future, and you try to answer to the best of your ability, but you can’t shake off his dead glass eyes, staring at you from the morgue.

“Another thing, we should have a code word.” Haibara exclaims.

You blink. “A code word?”

“If we ever meet in the future,” he explains, “y’know, in 'Groundhog’s day', he has to keep explaining what’s happening repeatedly? In order to prevent that, we should have a secret word between eachother so I instantly know who you are.”

Not the same exact situation, but it sounds like exactly something a child would come up with. You indulge him anyway.

“Okay, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, it can’t be anything too crazy, or we might attract unwanted attention.” Haibara puts a hand on his chin in serious thought. You smile.

“Got it! If you ever see me, just yell ‘brocolli head’ really really loudly. Then I’ll know.” Haibara chirps.

“Wait, why broccoli head?”

“Because broccoli heads are green!” Haibara chirps happily.

You’re starting to learn it’s best not to question his logic.

You nod, very amused. “Sure thing, Haibara.”

Someone calls out his name. He jumps before he waves to you. You watch as he joins with Nanami. They talk about something you can’t hear. Haibara laughs and you decide it would be a shame if his laugh was lost to death.

Gojo finds you eventually. You can’t hide from him forever. You were walking into the school when he caught up with you. He’d ran there. His breath was slightly ragged.

“Greeny, couldn’t get enough last time, huh?” You shoot him a look.

“What are you talking about? Doesn’t matter, we need to go, the missions coming up.”

Gojo’s smile dips ever so slightly. “How’d you know about that?”

It’s probably not a good idea to tell the guy's best friend that you’re possessing that you’ve unlocked his memories.

“Haibara told me.”

“Ah,” He replies, “let’s go then.”

The car ride is different this time around. Less tension. You aren’t as confused. Gojo is seated quietly beside you, watching the scenery go by. The assistant is too preoccupied with belting the radio to notice Gojo's words.

“Figured it out yet?” He asks. “Your technique.”

He's persistent about that answer, isn't he? You're sure the only reason Gojo cooperates with you is because he thinks you're inhabiting Suguru's on accident. How would he react if he knew you were doing it intentionally? It's best not to get on the strongests’ bad side.

“Oh, not really, but I think it’s random. I can’t seem to find a set pattern. Maybe Suguru calls out to me, somehow?”

“Maybe.” Gojo replies. His time is flat. Anxiety flips through your stomach.

“You’re different this time around,” Gojo says.

“Am I?” You ask. “I guess I’m just more determined today.”

He gives you a look over. "Oh yeah? What for?"

"The curse. I'll exorcise it, today."

You don't know how you wanted Gojo to react to that, but you're still disappointed when he turns back to the window.

"Do whatever, Greeny."

In the end, you do swallow the curse. You manage to hold your gags in this time.

It's worse than before. It makes sense. This curse was first-grade. Stronger. In terms of taste, it was like curdled blood and mold. You were so grateful for that soda.

Gojo only watches with a tilted head.

"You're getting better at that."

You give a weak grin.

"Practice makes perfect," you reply, "do you think I'll get strong enough to absorb a special grade soon?"

He doesn't like your question. You can see it in his stiff expression.

"Maybe. Why do you want to swallow up curses, anyway? Last time you were here, you were practically begging to go back."

His response wasn't exactly hostile but far from his usual playful attitude. You knew you'd have to confront this eventually. Despite how nonchalant he acted, it's clear Satrou doesn't enjoy watching someone prance around in his friend's body like this. If he starts to dislike you, it could rupture your entire plan. You need his cooperation, more than anything, to save Suguru.

A little bit of the truth. Just a bit. It can't hurt, can it?

"Curses taste horrible," you say, looking at the ground. You can still taste the remnants of it, "it's the worst thing in the world. I can't even explain how wrong it feels to eat one. I thought...while I'm in his body...I could maybe help Suguru a little. I could ingest the curses in his stead, so that way, he still gets to absorb it." But it'll lessen the trauma it has on his mental state.

You can't see how Gojo feels about that. Those glasses of his cover everything. But you know he's staring at you. The six eyes are taking you apart, observing you whole.

"Did you know Suguru in the future?" He asks.

"I didn't." The man that killed you. The man that will keep killing you. And you'd forgive him each time.

Another beat of silence.

Finally, he just sighs. "You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?"

You give a sheepish laugh.

"That isn't a compliment, by the way. You're just really reckless. And maybe stupid, Greeny." His tone isn't mean.

"My name still isn't Greeny." You tell him.

"Oh yeah, what's your name, then?" He's reverted back to that teasing lilt, and it almost makes you relax if you don't note the curiosity underneath.

So far, you've been lax giving away information regarding the future, but you don't think you should continue that. What if you're too careless and the future changes in a way you didn't intend? A name, personal information, that could be way too dangerous.

"Actually, just call me Greeny. I like that name a lot better."

"You complained about it all the time, though?" Gojo argues.

"It's starting to grow on me." You grin. "Grow? Get it, because you compared me to a plant and-"

"Stop stop, you really are an old man." Gojo groans. You just grin wider. Then, you grimace.

“I can still taste it.” You complain. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

“I caught our assistant manager smoking a while back,” Satoru suggests. “Maybe you could go and beg him for one.”

You toss him a look. “Suguru doesn’t smoke, and I’m not giving a teenager a nicotine addiction.” You have found lighters inside Suguru’s pockets, but you have a feeling it isn’t for his own cravings.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?"

He gives a wordless hum.

"Maybe after this, could you take Suguru out to a cafe'? I can taste the aftertaste of the curse." You shudder. "Just get him something to wash it down."

Also, Suguru couldn't go back to his dorm after this. Suguru dissented because of his fractured relationship with everyone, not just with Satoru. You'd try to bridge the gap between him and his peers as much as you can. You go through Suguru's flip phone, asking Shoko if she wants to join the two.

When you're done with that, you snap the phone closed.

"Okay, I'm done here. You two have fun, okay?" You raise your hand.

Gojo just huffs, amused. "Sure sure. By the way, someone wanted to thank you."

You blink at that. "What?"

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

He gives you a high-five, and then you're back in 2017 in your own body.

Temporarily. So far you figured out that you get sent back an hour before the night parade happens. 8:06. Considering you have a couple more minutes to kill before you’re killed, you reach into your pocket for that cigarette you’ve been craving. You pick the first out of the box, cherry burns just out of corner of your eye.

You notice things now. The children giggled to their parents. Old couples gingerly held hands with sweet smiles. You'd save them, but first, you need to save Suguru.

And do really do that, you'd have to save Riko.

Easier said than done. You could go back in time, but you can't really control when to go back in time. It's been random, but your trips are typically two days away from each other. You can work with that.

But in order to get to Riko's death, you'd have to die...a lot. Absorbing curses made Suguru lose his mind, but how well would you fare with dying over and over again?

"Hungry?"

Someone looms over you. A woman. She's pretty, with short hair and bangs. In her hand, she holds a bag of chips.

"The vending machine gave me an extra." She gives a laugh. She kind of sounds like you. "Would you like one?"

"Oh." You take it. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She trots off into the crowd. You watch her.

A stranger's act of kindness. She didn't even know what would happen to her soon. You grip the bag, it crinkles in your grasp.

It didn't matter how well you'd fare with dying over and over again. You'd get over it. So many innocent people depended on you. You can't just abandon them like this.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right? It's aggravating how accurate he is, honestly.

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

It takes a few cycles to finally reach the day Amanai Riko is assassinated. Whenever you deem yourself too early, you often accompany Gojo on a mission and exorcise a special-grade curse. Your overall plan is working, bit by bit. Each time you return, Suguru's memories swarm you. Each curse he remembers as less painful.

It's why you get worried when you get there a little too late.

"Something wrong?" Riko asks.

You've stopped in the middle of the hallway, and of course, they're looking at you strangely. You know this place. Tengen's barrier is just an elevator ride away. Suguru, Riko, and Miss Kuroi were all almost there.

Fushiguro Toji has already arrived.

In the first timeline, Geto leads the girls all the way down to Tengen's barrier. He puts his trust in Gojo. Of course, he would. They're the strongest. And in the end, Gojo does kill Toji.

But the kill comes too late. Riko still dies, and the fracturing happens.

You thought you'd have more time. If you had arrived a bit earlier, you could have fought with Gojo, and the chances of defeating Toji would have significantly increased.

What do you do?

"What's the matter?" Miss Kuroi asks. She's supposed to die today, too.

"Sorry, ladies." You smile. "But I need to go back for him."

You don't answer their calls, running back up the hallway. The sun's bright, shimmering beautifully in the sky.

It contradicts the blood dripping all over the stone floor.

Gojo's lifeless body is draped across the rubble. It's a horrifying sight. Eyes that were once like the sky are just this empty blue. A dead sea. He isn't breathing. You know, if you touched his wrist, you wouldn't feel a heartbeat.

"Hate to break it to ya', but the Gojo kid's dead." Toji's right behind you. You can feel him grinning.

You know Gojo isn't dead. At least, he won't be dead for a while, but seeing the boy who used to tease you, annoy the shit out of you, laugh at you, be so....it made you freeze. Falter.

You were wasting time.

"Sorceror killer." You say after a minute. You almost can't bring yourself to turn, to look at him. The man who kills Gojo. The man who could've killed Suguru, but chose not to. "You certainly live up to your name."

Toji's grin widens. The only man in the world with zero cursed energy. It'd be awe-inspiring if it weren't so terrifying.

It's funny. You weren't afraid of dying, not anymore. You were afraid of failing. Failing when you were so close, when victory was just a blink away.

"The flyheads." You mention to the swarms of curses all around you. "That's really smart." It gives you an idea or two.

You have Suguru's memories, but they aren't always concrete. You just have snippets. A general idea of what happened within a certain event. It makes sense. Humans can't remember everything.

But regarding the memories of Suguru and Fushiguro, everything is crystal clear. It's almost like you were there when it happened.

It also means that you know Suguru, at this current level, won't be able to defeat Fushiguro.

But Suguru doesn't need to beat the sorcerer killer; he just needs to hold him off.

Currently, Suguru's body contains 368 curses: 3 special grades, 24 grade ones, 33 grade twos, 103 grade threes, and 205 fourth grades.

You release all 368 of them.

In another timeline, these curses would look to you as something to devour. Today, these curses have a new target.

It won't stop Fushiguro. You're not dumb enough to think that. But it should give you time. Hopefully, it'll be enough time.

Your knees hurt when you collapse next to the corpse. Gojo's so beautiful, even when he's dead.

"Gojo." You shake him. Nothing happens. "You need to wake up. Gojo."

Nothing happens. You don't know what caused Gojo to become the strongest, Suguru wasn't there. For once, you are blind to the past.

"Riko needs you. Wake up. You-you need to go and save her and Miss Kuroi."

His body's so cold, and you know he's dead because when you touch his skin, you don't wake up in the present. You push against his body, and he falls limply right back to place. You're sure this sight will haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Satoru." You beg. "It's Greeny. Please, please, please wake up."

Nothing happens.

Everything happens.

The brightest blue you've ever seen. It's heavenly. A glow that warms and chills your skin. It takes a while for you to see again. When you do, Satoru is standing.

Somehow, his eyes are even brighter. You don't think you're looking at a teenage boy anymore.

You're sitting in front of God.

"Greeny." he states, voice flat. "You're late."

You manage to smile.

"Sorry."

You’ve seen Satoru fight before. He’s always calm, body relaxed as he practically floats in the air. Those fights differed from Suguru’s memories—post Satoru’s awakening. There’s always this twinge of desperation. An aftertaste of bloodlust.

But seeing it for yourself is something else entirely. Even with Suguru’s heightened senses, you still can’t follow him. He’s barely a mirage. One milisecond you can see a blue flash, the next you see nothing.

It's barely a fight. Not this time around. Fushiguro is completely unmatched. There's a flash of purple. And then, it's over.

Fushiguro is in shambles. You didn't realize he was human until he started to bleed and shatter. Parentage over labor. It's sobering, in a way.

Satoru's mouth moves. You're too far away to hear anything. They stand there for a few more seconds until Fushiguro slumps. Then, he falls.

You wonder when you got so desensitized to death.

Gojo stands there. You should let him compress, but the clock is ticking. You need to do one more thing before you can let Suguru go.

"You need to go." You say when you're close to him. He doesn't acknowledge you. "Riko's about to enter Tengen's barrier."

He looks at you right then. His eyes. They're so bright, but they're strangely lifeless. Like he can't process you, your words.

"I can see you now," he says, "it was so foggy before, but now, you're crystal clear."

Six eyes look at you. You don't think you're hiding behind Suguru's face anymore.

You clear your throat.

"Gojo." You remind him. "Riko. You need to stop her."

He blinks back into focus, rising from his high.

"Oh," he says after a moment, "right."

You stop him before he can walk any further. You hold out your hand.

"You and Suguru."

For the first time in a while, Gojo hesitates to send you back. You wait a couple seconds longer.

"Yeah," he finally says.

His skin still feels cold.

ⴵ

This death is a lot more painful than the others.

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die.

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Time skips a lot faster now.

You stand in 2006, four months after the death of Fushiguro Toji. It takes a second for Geto's memories to kick in. What you see makes you nearly cry in relief.

Gojo and Geto made it in time. You can still remember the tears spilling down Riko's cheeks, the smile on her face when Geto asked her if she wanted to go back. They were safe. They were home, with each other.

You did it. You actually managed to pull it off.

But you can't celebrate, not yet. From what you can gather from Suguru's memories, Geto defects after four years. You've just held off the eventual.

It's nearly the middle of December. The air feels a bit chillier. You stay on that bench where Suguru once occupied. He was finishing his lunch. Usually, he'd eat with Satoru, but Satoru wasn't on campus these days.

Right, you weren't finished with your work, yet. There was still one other issue. Suguru went on missions alone these days. Swallowing curses, letting them fester and rot in his body. It's isolating and grueling work. You might have been able to help him with the absorption, but your aide won't be enough to prevent his eventual downfall.

You'll have to deal with his natural isolation. To do that, Suguru will have to make friends with people who aren't Satoru.

Suguru does have friends, but he's the closest to Satoru. Considering Satoru is getting busier each passing day, Suguru needs to broaden his horizons a bit.

It's a good thing this school is filled with such colorful characters.

Haibara and Nanami were sitting in the back of the school. From Geto's memories, their dynamic was interesting. Haibara was definitely more outgoing than the two, but Nanami seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. They looked out for each other, in that way.

Ah, Shoko was there, too. You haven't seen her since your first day. Her hair's grown longer. It lightly brushes her shoulders now. The cigarette in her hand burns a cherry red.

Your reaction is rooted in Suguru's instinct than anything on your part. You reach out, taking the cigarette and stomping on the embers.

"You shouldn't smoke in front of kids." You tell her, hoping she didn't read too much into your action.

Shoko scoffs, but to your satisfaction, she doesn't take out another one.

"We're just one year below you." Nanami retaliates, but he looks more at ease now that the cigarette's out.

"Did you finish lunch already, Geto?" Haibara asks kindly, then he takes a closer look. "Greeny?"

You suck air through your teeth, giving Haibara a scathing look. Instead of looking exasperated, Nanami looks confused.

"What's Greeny?" Nanami asks, and Haibara weakly laughs.

"It's-uh-my new nickname for the tree that's growing over there!" He wildly points to something just behind you. "'Cuz it's so...green!"

"Of course." You note the hint of affection laced within his tone.

"When'd you get back?" Haibara recovers with eagerness.

"Recently." You grin. "Nice to see you again."

"You saw him this morning," Nanami interjects, and you shrug. When he frowns, you know you pulled off a perfect Suguru impression.

Suguru melds into the conversation perfectly. Haibara says something funny, Shoko and Suguru agree, Nanami disagrees. It's a lovely little cycle that ends when Nanami grumbles and picks himself up to go. Shoko starts to follow suit when you stop her.

"Your hair's nice." You tell her.

She hums, grabbing a strand to study it. You can see hints of dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. She looked livelier when you first met her. Curses have been popping up left and right since Fushiguro's death. Everyone is overworked, but Shoko looks like she's getting the brunt of it. She's one of the only people who can use RCT on others, and there aren't many healers on her level. All of the strongests share one thing in common it seems.

"Pretty soon, it'll be longer than yours," Shoko replies. You smile in response.

"Where are you going?" You ask.

"Dorm," she replies, "I'm behind on paperwork."

You had a feeling she always was. You gave a look of sympathy, but misery loves company.

"I have some work too," You 'remember' the piles of papers lodged on Suguru's desk, "Maybe we can do it together later. The cafe right next to campus? It'll be my treat."

She looks at Suguru. Her eyes are a pretty color.

"Sure." She shrugs. "see you then."

You feel your heart thump twice in your chest and decide that your work here is done.

Haibara stares at Shoko's disappearing back. The forehead flick comes from both you and Suguru.

"That hurt." Haibara whines.

Good, you inwardly think.

"Sorry." You tell him. He rubs his head, and you wonder if this is how kicking a puppy feels like.

Luckily for you, Haibara recovers quickly.

"You've been gone for a while." Haibara tilts his head. "What happened?"

You can't exactly control your technique, it's more like it has a mind of its own, placing you exactly where you need to be placed. Instead of answering, you sigh, leaning against the wall.

"Timeline gimmicks." You tell him tiredly. "It's hard to explain." He frowns, but he takes it as an answer.

"Do you know when Gojo's coming back?" You ask. "I think it's time for me to go back again."

In previous time travels, you and Haibara tried to see if any physical contact would be enough to send you back. No matter how many times you two high-fived, shook hands, or even held hands. Nothing worked. Only Gojo Satoru could activate your technique. It must have something to do with the amount of cursed energy another person has.

“He should be getting back later this evening.” Haibara muses. “But I’ll be happy to keep you company!”

It's nice to hear him chatter. If you'd let him, he'd go one and one. But you like hearing him talk about his sister. Apparently, she’s also a sorcerer, and his affection for her makes you smile.

"You remind me a lot of her, actually." He tells you. "Even though, y'know, you're a man." It's enough to get a laugh out of you.

“Do you have anyone in your family who can see curses?” Haibaracasks.

“No,” you answer honestly, “at least, not that I can tell. My dad never spoke of curses or strange powers when I was growing up.”

You think he would have said something; after all, you two were too close to have secrets from each other. Your father was a single man, who took to raising you himself after your mother passed away. He often said you had her laugh.

“Maybe you’re one of a kind,” Haibara suggests.

You agree with him.

Gojo finds you before you can find him. He comes up to you with a grin and a wave.

“Hey, long time.”

His sunglasses are tilted down. You can see his eyes. They’ve lost the mania he had in his fight with Fushiguro. You’re relieved at that. You still can’t shake off that strange thing he said to you.

Wordlessly, you raise your hand. Satoru frowned.

“You wanna leave so soon? You just got here.”

“I’ve been here for hours,” you tell him, “also, you aren’t very concerned that someone is using your best friend’s body as a puppet.”

“He’s been through worse,” Satoru tells you off with a wave. Some friend.

“Let’s go to the arcade,” he suggests.

“Do that with Suguru.” You tell him. “I’m not hanging out with a high schooler.”

“Right right, my bad. I keep forgetting you’re an old man, Greeny.”

“22 is not old,” you say with exasperation, “didn’t your birthday just pass? You’re just five years away. I’ll see your attitude change, then.”

He grows quiet. You feel like you messed up somewhere.

“How did you know about my birthday?”

Fuck, you keep forgetting about keeping Suguru’s memories a secret. It takes everything within you to just relax.

“Haibara told me,” you say, “blabbermouth. You know him.”

“Oh.” Gojo replies. “Huh.”

You shuffle your feet. Distantly, you wonder what shoe size Suguru wears.

“How did your mission go?”

“Horrible,” he’s instantly back to his usual self, whiny and complaint, “and the curse was so ugly too. It was oozing goo everywhere.”

You frown. “Sounds gross. But you won, right?”

He doesn’t even answer. You secretly admire his sheer confidence. You certainly weren’t that when you were at his age.

“How’s Amanai and Miss Kuroi?” You ask.

“Safe.” He tells you. “The higher-ups weren’t really happy with us after that; pretty sure all these sudden missions are punishments.” He frowns. “But they’re fine. Miss Kuroi officially adopted her, so she’s a Kuroi now, too.”

You smiled. You already knew all that, but it’s nice to hear it.

“You saved them,” he says.

You laugh, “I didn’t do a thing.” You tell him. “You and Suguru did all the heavy lifting. I just caused some property damage.”

“You did.” He replies. “I don’t know how, but things always manage to work out whenever you’re around.”

You don’t like how he phrases that, but you don’t react.

“You think so? Maybe I’m lucky.” It’s supposed to be a joke of some kind. Neither of you laugh.

“You really don’t know us in the future?” He asks.

Maybe you should’ve asked Shoko if you could have a cigarette.

“I really didn't,” you say, “Honest, I—I have no idea what’s happening. I’m just as lost as you. Hopefully, I can figure out how to control my technique, and you won’t have to see me again.”

You never stopped feeling guilty for doing this to Suguru. Controlling him. Forcing him to laugh with his friends, make decisions based on your feelings rather than his. But you’re so close. You promise yourself that once you fix everything, you’ll never cause someone this much pain again. No matter how many times they kill you.

Satoru’s fists tighten. He looks even more upset at your response.

“That’s not what I—” He cuts himself off. You wait. Satoru says nothing more.

“You’re annoying.” He tells you in the end. It’s clean and cut, but it sounds like him. More confident, less wavery. “And stupid too.”

You can’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Am I done entertaining you now? Can I go?” He grumbles, holding up his hand.

“Yeah, sure, Greeny.”

ⴵ

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Something’s wrong.

You can feel it. Something’s wrong.

You look through Geto’s memories. There’s nothing. Everything’s going as it should be. Everything looks perfect. Then, why do you feel so wrong?

Currently, Suguru was finishing excorcising a curse. You absorb it, swallowing down the remnant like it’s a pile of rusted nails but even the disgusting taste isn’t enough to wash away the feeling of dread.

The walls of the hospital was empty. The auxillary managers had already cleared everyone out by the time Suguru had walked in. Maybe it was the silence that added to your stress?

You walk out. Nothing changes. One of the managers comes up to you with a clipboard.

“The curse was exorcised.” Suguru tells them. “It wasn’t first grade, it was special grade. It was still disposed of.”

He curses, scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“The wrong information again.” He hisses to himself. “If we keep doing this, someone will die. We need more people, we’re way too stretched out.”

Those words are familiar. Hold on.

“Wait, what day is it?” You ask the frazzled-looking manager.

Offhandedly, he responds. He says the date so casually, and yet his mere words feel like a bear trap, tightening on your leg.

No. You should have had more time. Why weren’t you given more time?

Nanami and Haibara have probably already been dispatched. You go through Suguru’s phone, finding Haibara’s contact. It doesn’t go through. Nanami doesn’t pick up either.

You won’t make it in time. Even using Suguru’s curses, you won’t be able to reach them until it’s too late. Suguru’s memory of that day is muddled and dark, but Haibara’s dead corpse laying on the examination table. The pieces of him that Nanami could bring back.

You wouldn’t be fast enough.

He picks up on the second ring.

“...What’s up?”

“It’s Haibara.” You spit the words out as fast as you can. “Satoru, you need to go and get him right now, he isn’t going to make it—”

“—Greeny?” The exhaustion in Gojo’s voice is gone. You can hear something rustle behind him.

“Satoru, listen to me.” You beg. “Haibara and Nanami were just dispatched on a mission, but Yu isn’t going to survive it. It wasn’t a second-grade curse; it was a first grade. Please, you have to go and save him before it kills him.”

It’s silent. It feels like hours have passed when you know it’s just three seconds.

“We’ll talk later, Greeny.” The line clicks.

You’ve lost the trust of the strongest.

ⴵ

The future has changed when you get to campus. Haibara’s status is still alive. Barely. But he’s still there. Shoko’s currently taking care of him.

Nanami remains quiet the entire time since he returned with Haibara’s battered body. The only thing you can think of to offer comfort is to pat his shoulder. He barely even registers it. It’s more for you than for him. You’re self-soothing, taking care of something else, so you don’t have to recognize your own panic.

If Haibara dies, right here, on this day, everything can change. Everything can go back to the way it was in your original timeline. Haibara, with his sunshine, smiles, and bright eyes. His death is so important, and you can’t even think of him right now.

Gojo Satoru knows you’ve been deceiving him.

This is bad. So very bad. If he starts to suspect that you know more than you let on, he might deem you enough of a threat to kill, regardless of whether or not you’re in Suguru’s body. It’s not like that hasn’t stopped him before.

Gojo Satoru is selfless. He’s selfless enough to kill his best friend, if he thinks it will save everyone.

But if Gojo kills Geto here and now, would that really be bad?

You’d lose your path to the past, but the threat to your life would be over. Even if you did die in Suguru’s body, at least the people of Tokyo will be spared the Death Parade. You’ll still get what you want. And it will be much easier than your current plan.

Nanami shuffles behind you and you instantly snap out of it. That wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you. That same lack of apathy when Fushiguro died in front of you.

It seems like dying over and over again caused you to lose bits of your humanity.

Shoko comes out. Nanami stands up, a tall ball of nervous energy. Shoko removes her mask. Her dark circles have grown even more prominent. She’s only 17.

“He’s still alive.” Nanami sags. “But he isn’t responsive. I’ve done all that I can.”

She looks at Nanami, and then she can’t anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Nanami rasps, the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “don’t apologize. It was my fault. I should’ve taken better care of him.”

You swallow. It wasn’t his fault, you wish you could tell him that it was yours.

You wonder what Haibara’s younger sister looked like. A spitting image of him, perhaps. Shorter. Darker hair, bigger eyes. Their smiles would look identical. What would she look like when she’s told her brother died doing the profession he forbade her from doing?

You can’t do that to her. You can’t be the reason she loses her brother the second time.

You’re not sure if a God is even out there. How could there be? What kind of entity would do something like this to you? Still, you sit on that bench, right outside the room where Haibara’s body lay, and you pray for a God.

Gojo’s footsteps stop right in front of you.

It’s hard to get the words out. For a minute, he just stands there.

“Did you exorcise it?” You finally ask.

“Yeah.”

You lift your head up to look at him. Even in his school uniform, he’s regal to look at. Like a warrior of the sun, blessed by the moon, sent to vanquish beasts and monsters.

Now, his blood-soaked sword is pointed at you.

Make it quick. You can only think. Just make it quick.

“Not here.” You say.

Nanami was still shaking. Shoko was right beside him. So you stand, you drag yourself away from Haibara’s fading presence, and Gojo follows behind.

It shouldn’t be this pretty outside. The sun is bright, and the sky is clear. There should be rain. Enough rain to drown the Earth.

“I figured out your technique a while ago, y’know.” You don’t look at him. You can’t. “Dying. Death activates your technique. Each time you die, you’re sent back 12 years in the past.”

You grip the fabric of your uniform until your knuckles turn white. Satoru’s cruel enough to continue.

“But I never got why your soul kept possessing Suguru’s body. It always felt kinda’ random. Unless he was the one who was killing you. Over and over again.”

“Gojo. Stop.” You beg.

“That’s how your CT works. Every time you’re murdered, you go back in time so you can kill them when they’re at their most emotionally vulnerable moment. It’s a pretty powerful technique, all things considered. I might not even stand a chance against it. Assisted suicide, never expected that from you of all people.

But you never do. Each time Suguru kills you, you just come back and try to save him and everyone else your hands can reach. I can’t get why you did that.”

He steps in front of you so you can see him. The God that he is.

“Let’s cut the shit, Greeny. Tell me what future is so bad you’re willing to die over and over again to prevent it.”

The worst outcome you could have ever thought of was standing right in front of you.

Satoru was demanding to know his future.

And...you couldn’t.

You’re taking in a shaky breath. It’s not enough oxygen. The sky was close to crumbling, and you still couldn’t breathe.

“There’s nothing to know.” You try. “There’s nothing, I’m fixing it—”

“—by Suguru killing you, or is this considering killing yourself, now?”

“You don’t understand.” Your voice is cracking, so high-pitched that even Suguru’s vocal cords can’t keep up. “You don’t get it. You can’t.”

“Then help me understand.” His voice is as ragged as yours, he steps closer, you step back. “Tell me why my friend would do something like this to someone.”

It clicks right then. Satoru’s anger isn’t directed at you.

No, it’s directed at Suguru.

It’s even worse than you thought.

“He—he was better than me. He was supposed to be the best out of all of us. I wanna deny it all that I can but—but I can see the proof right here in front of me. And—And I don’t—” His voice breaks too much to continue.

You’re breaking, too. How many times have you been doing this, over and over again? All alone, with no one to support you. To comfort you.

The words are right there, threatening to bubble out. It’d be so easy to tell Satoru everything.

And maybe you would’ve, but then you looked at him.

Despite how disingenuous Satoru acted, you knew he was kind. The kindest person you’ve ever met. He’d sit there and listen, and he’d break every bone in his body to help. That’s just how he was.

Satoru was selfless, he was selfless enough to kill his best friend here and now if it meant he’d save the millions in Tokyo.

You can’t put another burden on the strongest.

You can’t do that to a kid.

“It—it isn’t him.” You manage to spit out. “He isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s not his fault.

It’s the curses. They were too much for him; they overtook his body. Suguru couldn’t control them anymore.”

He says nothing. It’s like you’ve put a spell on Gojo somehow, freezing him in place. Satoru can’t do anything but stare at the talking puppet that’s his best friend.

“He lost so many people.” You continue. “Riko, Miss Kuroi, Haibara. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. His body succumbed to the curses, and they took over Shinjuku. That’s how I keep...”

It’s okay to lie like this, you justify to yourself. Because the Suguru, you know—the one with fake smiles, beady eyes, and a broken expression—isn’t the one that Satoru knows. They’re two completely different people. Years—timelines—apart from each other. They aren’t the same.

Even then, you forgave both Sugurus a lifetime ago.

You’d get on your knees if you know that would make a difference. You’d plead and beg and cry if it would get Satoru to drop it. In the end, you can only stare at him.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me.” You whisper. “Believe that I’m making this right. Please, Satoru?”

His eyes. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s gone quiet and dull. The same look he had when he fully awakened his technique. The day he became God.

But he’s not a God. God’s don’t cry.

He leans ever so closely until his head rests on your shoulder. His body shakes.

“You’ll save him, right?” He asks. Gone, is his aura of confidence and resilience. He’s nothing more than a shell. If you feel something stain Suguru’s uniform, you say nothing about it.

You smile anyway.

“I will.” You tell the truth. “I will save him.”

You think of something morbidly funny.

“I’ll die trying.”

His shoulders shake with quiet, genuine laughter, the kind that’s wet and sticks to the top of your mouth.

“That’s fucked up, Greeny.” He whispers.

You hum, reaching up to pat him on the back. It takes another minute before he gathers himself up. His eyes are shiny. Satoru blinks it away.

“Haibara will be okay.” He says with such conviction. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll take care of Suguru, too.”

He doesn’t get it, not yet. He doesn’t understand that Shoko and Satoru and Haibara and Nanami need him. He’ll get it soon, though. You managed to put Suguru on the right path.

For now, it’s all you can do.

“I know you will.”

He scoffs, right then.

“You’re really annoying, you know that? Next time, don’t piss me off like that. Just tell it to me straight.”

Rely on me. Lean on me.

“I’m sorry,” you say and you truly are, “I won’t leave you in the dark from now on. I guess I just forgot that I had a friend in 2006.”

His eyes get a little brighter. “It’s actually 2007—”

“Shut up.” He laughs and it sounds like him again.

You reach out your hand and his grin fades, the tiniest bit. He mirrors you, regardless.

This time, you hesitate.

“You should learn how to be selfish every once in a while.” You tell him. “I won’t fault you if you’re selfish. I don’t think anyone will.

He doesn’t answer that, but his touch is finally warm.

ⴵ

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

It’s today.

You can feel it. You don’t even have to look at the date to know.

The catalyst for December 24th, 2017.

Suguru’s already dressed. You’re currently standing in front of a shotty mirror, watching your reflection.

He looks tired. His smile’s a bit muted. You notice a scar you hadn’t seen before. An unregistered special grade curse, Suguru’s memory gives.

He’s different from when you saw him a year ago, but there’s still a spark in his eye. You cling to that hope, as hard as you can.

You step out of the room. It isn’t Suguru’s. He’d rented accommodations with an older woman and her son for the mission. Their place smelled like home. It made your stomach turn.

She smiles when she sees you coming down stairs. She looks kind; she has the eyes of a mother. You’ll never understand how a person who raised children could do something like this to another.

“Mr. Geto.” She chirps. “I’m so glad you’re awake! Would you like anything to eat?”

“No, I’m fine.” Better get this done sooner than later. “I should be heading back now, anyways.”

Suguru had already absorbed the curse tormenting the village last night. You can feel the sticky aftertaste in your mouth. He should have left the village yesterday, but the people were insistent he stayed one last day as thanks, feeding him all they could.

Now, it’s obvious that it was a way to butter him up for today.

Her smile grows a bit nervous. She shuffles her feet a bit.

“If it isn't too much.” She starts. “The head of our village asked if you could look at something.” Her eyes darken into disgust.

You fight to keep your smile.

“Of course. Please, lead the way.”

It’s worse than you ever could have imagined.

You’ve seen this play out so many times in Suguru’s memories. He reminisces about this moment a lot. Because of that, you knew this scene too, like the back of your hand.

And yet, seeing two children huddled together on the floor. Nothing could prepare you for that.

The village head is saying something. The woman who Suguru roomed with is yelling at the scared kids, but you can’t hear any of that.

Their clothes were dirty and ripped. Their cheeks were hollow, and they looked like they hadn’t eaten for days. Himiko’s eye looks swollen.

The twins.

The first time you saw them, they stepped aside and let Geto kill you. There’s something oddly poetic about you being on the other side.

They tremble as they continue to look at you, flinch whenever that woman raises her voice. They must think Suguru’s here to kill them.

They’re too young to think like that. They’re too young to see the horrors of this world so soon.

It’s a mistake to look towards the end of their cell. Dirty water and dog food.

How could a human do this to them? How could a mother do this to them?

You feel red. It coarses through your blood, your veins, your soul. It feels like there’s lava right underneath your skin. Shuddering, tittering anger.

There’s more than enough fire to burn down an entire village.

‘Suguru,’ you think to your companion, your tormentor, ‘I think I’m starting to get it now.’

You reach for the bars of the cell. The twins shrink away.

“Ah! Mr. Geto, you musn’t get too close to them—”

“I’ll take them.”

“What?” The head of the village asks.

“The children.” You straighten yourself up. “I’ll take them off your hands.”

It’s pointless to do anything to these people. They’re delusional enough to think that they’re in the right. By torturing these children, they’re protecting their own. It’s fear. That’s all it ever was. Even without a curse, it’ll fester on and on until this village is nothing but abandoned homes. There’s no point to punish these people any further.

If you look at the adults a bit too long, you’re afraid of what you’d do, even without Suguru’s interference. Instead, you focus on Himiko and Nanako, looking into their wary gazes. Their hands are so tiny. You could protect them with your own.

When you got out of this backward village, you’d find them something to eat.

ⴵ

You go to Shoko first.

She looks surprised to see the twins. You can’t imagine why. Still, her voice is calm when she speaks to them, setting both of them up in the clinic room. Since you got them into the car, Nanako and Himiko seemed to calm down. Himiko even told you the name of her doll.

A little while later, Yaga comes for a visit. He’s the principal now. Usually, his voice is filled with gruff, but he’s oddly gentle when he speaks to them. Nanako cracks a shy smile.

You can’t escape the ‘we’ll talk later’ look he gives you. Inwardly, you sympathize with Suguru. But a harsh lecture is better than being branded a murderer.

He hasn’t come by, yet. With the twins aided for, you decide to go find him yourself.

Walking through campus feels a little nostalgic. The grounds of the infamous jujutsu technical college are a bright green. It’s summer again. You’ve met so many colorful characters since your time here. You’ve only seen snippets, mere seconds of their lives, and yet it feels like an entire lifetime.

He’s sitting on a bench when you finally see him, nursing a drink. He doesn’t acknowledge you. You have to roll your eyes at his childish behavior, plopping down beside him.

“Hey.” You say first.

“Heard you adopted two kids,” Satoru says, “Never thought Suguru would be a teen mom, but here we are.”

You laugh, light and breathless. The sky is so pretty today.

“I don’t think he’d have it any other way, personally.” You respond.

He reminisces on your words.

“This happened before too?” He asked.

It did. It was a lot less of a happy ending, however.

“Yeah,” you say regardless, “he took good care of them last time. He’ll do the same in this timeline too. I’m sure of it.”

And this time, he’d have help. Shoko, Satoru, his teachers. They’d all be there for him. Suguru’s memories haven’t changed yet, but you know the future you step into will be a different one.

“In any case, I’m glad I got to see jujutsu tech one last time. It’s a beautiful campus.”

“You act like you’re leaving,” Satoru says, uncaring. “You’ll just come back again next month. Or next year.”

You play with your fingers.

“I...won’t be doing that from now on.”

He pauses. Then, he looks at you.

“What?”

You can’t gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t look happy. You find this a bit hard to swallow.

“I fixed the future.” You smile at him. “I finally did it. Suguru won’t break. Himiko and Nanako won’t lose their father. You won’t lose a friend, anymore. There’s no reason for me to keep coming back. You’re all free.”

You phrased the last part as a joke, but Satoru isn’t laughing.

“Wait, you’re leaving? You’re...leaving leaving.”

You nod. “I can’t believe it either.” You still can’t believe you accomplished everything you set out to do. A task that seemed so impossible, now you’re standing on the other side of it.

It wasn’t truly over. Not really, but you were able to get Suguru through the worst of it. Now, you were sure Satoru and Shoko would take up your mantel, pushing Suguru through the finish line. Just like he’ll do to them.

Satoru’s quiet.

“You seem happy.” He notes.

“Well, I did just save everyone, I think I deserve to feel a little good about myself.”

For a moment, you want to ask if it’ll be okay to visit everyone in the future. To see how Shoko and Suguru and Satoru are doing as adults. You stop yourself. Of course, they wouldn’t want to see you. You needed to stop being so greedy.

This, was more than enough.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” Satoru asks.

“You know I can’t do that.” You tell him with a smile.

“Right right.” He laughs, it sounds hollow. “Time travel, bullshit. Makes sense.”

“I’ll miss you.” You tell him.

He straightens himself up.

“I’ll miss you too, old man.” He responds. “You were a lotta’ fun to mess with.”

For once, you aren’t offended by the old man’, comment. If anything, it feels somber.

“Can I ask for some advice?” He suddenly asks. “Y’know what they say, ask the old and wise or whatever.” Okay, now he was starting to push it.

“What is it?”

It’s his turn to shuffle with his fingers.

“What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it?”

You glance at him. He looks earnest. Did something like that even exist for Satoru?

“Something I can’t catch up to?” You ponder out loud. “I guess I’d have to make a big enough ruckus to where it has no choice but to look back.”

He frowns. “That makes no sense. You’re growing senile.”

You laugh. You’ll miss this brat.

You wish you could stay more. You wish you could ask about Haibara, and Shoko, and Nanami, but the clock is ticking.

Suguru’s getting impatient.

“Bye, Satoru.” You reach out your hand.

He scrutinizes it, before clasping it within his own.

“Yeah, Greeny.”

Within a blink, you’re back again in the middle of Shinjuku. December 24th, 7:06 pm.

It’s the same as always. People bustle around you. Children’s laughter. Everything always repeats itself, but you don’t think you can ever get sick of it. You’ll savor this peace for as long as you can.

You reach into your pocket, flicking out a lighter and the first cigarette of the box. You don’t know why you always chose this one. Despite outmaneuvering time itself, perhaps it’s within human nature to follow what’s written stone.

You’ve relived this hour so many times that you can list everything that happens. Down to the exact minute. 7:08- a little girl wearing a red dress walks by. 7:09- a lady with short hair catches your eyes and smiles. 7:14-an old man and woman bicker with each other as they pass you by. 7:21- A little dog sniffs the bench you sit on. 7:34- Two schoolchildren run past you, babbling. 7:45- five construction workers grumble out their grievances. 7:58- a businessman talks loudly on the phone.

You wait. You sit on a bench and wait until 8:06.

Five seconds after 8:06. Twenty seconds after 8:06.

The clock clicks to 8:07.

You were expecting to feel something else. Celebration. Elation. You half-expected to cause a scene and jump for joy right there in the streets of Shinjuku.

None of that comes. There’s just a feeling of relief. A weight presses you down, and you slump in your seat.

It was over.

It was finally over.

How long do you stay like that? Hours? Days? When you feel like you can finally breathe again, it’s only 8:12. Time travel warped your sense of time.

You stand up, stretch, feel your bones crack and pop. In the second timeline, you wanted to get a drink to drown your misery of nearly getting killed by a curse and being alone on December 24th. It felt like a lifetime ago when being single was the worst of your problems.

Honestly, you’d stay celibate for the rest of your life if it meant you wouldn’t have to go through that ever again.

Tomorrow, you’ll decompress and devolve into hysteria over what happened.

Next week, you’ll check yourself into therapy.

Today, you decide to go home and sleep for a couple hundred years.

You must look like a zombie with the way you wobble down the street. Physically, your body is perfectly fine. You’ve suffered no bruises or cuts. Even the numerous times you’ve been killed leaves nothing on your skin.

Mentally, you’re in shambles. The indomitable human spirit within you is snuffed out.

The stairs to your flat is your last enemy that you must vanquish before you can reunite with your adoring bed. You cling onto the railing with dazed eyes. You don’t see the curse until you’re right before it.

Distantly, you wonder how often you’ve passed a curse and didn’t even realize it. It’s almost instinct to reach out with your hand, intent on absorbing it.

Nothing happens. You remember you aren’t Suguru anymore.

It’s a grotesque-looking thing. No eyes, too many hands, a gaping mouth. It turns and looks at you.

Strange. Its’ smile mirrors the one in the abandoned house.

Adrenaline. You feel it coarse through your veins, meld into your bones, explode in your skin. You’re stumbling back, nearly tripping down the steps in your haste to get away.

It screeches. Loud and clear and angry and you can almost feel its teeth chomp on your leg, ripping your muscles and skin to mere tatters.

You’ve died before. You’ve been skinned alive before. You’ve been eaten before. Yet, it all amounts to nothing compared to the fear you feel at the thought of the curse catching you.

It can’t have been nothing more than a third grade. If you were taller, larger, special-grade, you could have killed it immediately. But you weren’t, not anymore, you were at the same level as a plant. Useless. Helpless.

A dead man stumbling, tripping, running.

The streets were quiet. You supposed that meant there’d be fewer casualties. But it didn’t make you feel any better. And even if there were people around, no one would have been able to help you.

Your brain isn’t working as clearly. Fear is the only thing that guides you. You’re reduced to a rat scampering through a maze. Sooner or later, that rodent reaches a dead end.

The alleyway was blocked off. You felt the rough brick wall scrape your hands and even the feeling of your raw skin couldn’t assuage your heart pumping in your throat. When you whirled your head back, it was right there, and you knew you were dead.

Again.

It might kill you, if it’s feeling generous. It might cut your legs off and watch you bleed, if its feeling kind. It might eat you, if it’s a decent curse.

It shouldn’t be happening. You fixed it. You were supposed to have fixed everything. But clearly you didn't. There must have been some piece of the puzzle that you forgot. You need to go back. You need to fix things, but why do you need to why can't he just leave you alone—

You don’t see what happens. One moment, the curse is there. The next it isn’t.

“Those things are so annoying.” The newcomer complains.

No, not new. You know him.

You blink. He grins. It’s kind. A toothy smile that warms.

“You alright?” He asks in sympathy. “Curses are pretty scary, aren’t they? Are you hurt?”

It’s him. You weren’t in 2006. You were in the present, here and now, and he was here with you.

He actually made it.

“Ma’am?” He asks.

It wasn’t intentional. You just blurted it out, the promise you made to him. It was a decade for him. Mere hours for you.

“Um, broccoli head...?” And then you instantly regret it.

Haibara Yu takes a minute, eyes squinting like you just grew a new head.

Then, he gasps.

“Greeny?”

ⴵ

A few minutes later, you’re seated at a restaurant. Haibara has not shut up.

“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again ‘cuz Gojo said you weren’t gonna be around anymore, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

“—Haibara.” You interrupt. “Please, slow down.”

He stops himself, right when the server comes with drinks. He shoots the waiter a smile, and then he’s back on you.

“Sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I—I got a little excited. And nervous. It’s just...well, I didn’t expect you to be a girl.”

That might have been your fault. Both Haibara and Gojo kept referring to you as a man, so you decided to roll with it. Earlier, you would have justified it by insisting the less they know about you, the better. Now, you just think you were being petty.

“So, how you’ve been? A whole decade...” You murmur to yourself.

“Fine! But what about you?” Haibara asks, concern etched into his eyes. “Where’d you go?”

Wow, he was actually worried for you. Despite being in Suguru’s body, you didn’t really feel like part of the group Shoko, Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara were part of. You felt like an outsider, being somewhere you didn’t belong. It's because you were an outsider. Nevertheless, it’s nice to know one person missed you.

“This might be a little hard to believe, but I just came back to 2017 two hours ago.”

Haibara gapes.

“Wait, so to you, that whole thing happened, today?” You nod. He leans back in his chair.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh at his awe.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way.” You change the topic. “From the curse.”

He waves it off. “I was just paying my debt. From what you did for me all those years ago.”

Ah, Gojo must have told him. Oddly enough, Haibara doesn't seem all that perturbed that he shouldn’t exist currently. At the same time, it feels just like Haibara.

He’s different from when he was younger. Taller. The baby fat is gone. His face is more built, just like the rest of his body. His eyes are less round, but they haven’t lost the spark. A few scars here and there, but he’s all in one piece.

You weren’t able to see what he looked like as an adult from Suguru’s memories, he’d never grown up. But now, you can see it for yourself. You can see the active change you made in his life, to his life.

“Haibara—”

“Yu—” He says seriously. “My friends call me Yu.”

A smile twitches on your lips.

“Tell me about everyone.” You scoot your chair closer. “You, Suguru. How is everyone doing?”

He perks up at that, clearly delighted to be talking.

“Great! Everyone’s doing great! You should totally come visit the school, sometime. They’d love to see you. Uh, even if they don’t technically know you, but I’m sure they’ll love to meet you!” He rambles, and it’s nice to know he hasn’t changed from his younger self.

“Let’s see, Kento’s teaching the first years. I teach the second years—”

“—You’re a teacher?”

He nods. “We all are! Except for Shoko, but she has her own thing going on. Anyway, Mimiko and Nanako have become second-grade semi-sorcerors. Isn’t that incredible? I’m just a first grade semi-sorceror, and at their young ages too! But Suguru wasn’t surprised, he kept saying his girls were prodigies. Oh! You probably want to know about Suguru too, right?”

You nod. Even if you hadn’t done anything, you don’t think that would have stopped his enthusiasm.

“He’s a teacher too! At least, for right now. Yaga’s been wanting to retire, and there have been talks of Suguru becoming the next principal. Principal Geto has a ring to it, right? Oh, and Shoko is currently planning the wedding. You’ll definitely be invited, of course! She said I could bring a plus-one. Oh, and—”

It goes on like that for hours, you think. Not that you mind. You listen to Yu babble on and on about his friends, his students. He talks about Nanami’s recent baking addiction, Shoko’s new office cat, Suguru’s favorite tea pot. It’s a never-ending surge of information.

Eventually, you catch on to the fact that he’s deliberately leaving someone out.

"Yu?" You interrupt him while he's talking about the prank the fourth year pulled on Nanami. "What about Satoru? What's he up to?"

Maybe you were overthinking things. Haibara likes to talk; perhaps he forgot to exclude someone else's story in his rants. But then, he grimaces. For the first time in this entire conversation, Haibara is reluctant to talk.

"Satoru is..." He winces, and your hands turn into fists.

No. No. You were supposed to save everyone. Why hadn't you saved everyone?

A warm hand grips your own. You'd been shaking.

Yu gives a soft smile, and you remember he's no longer younger than you.

"He's not dead." He assures you, but his smile fades. He straightens himself up, and his hand pulls away.

"Satoru defected from Jujutsu tech. We don't know where he is."

What? You must have misheard him wrong. Satoru wouldn't do that. That's not like him. This is some sick joke.

But there's no teasing grin on Haibara. His face is grave. You hate it more than anything.

"It happened when he was a fourth year. No one really knows what happened. Suguru refuses to say anything about it, but I think he's just as confused as the rest of us. It came outta nowhere."

Yeah, it definitely came out of nowhere. It's so random. Why would Satoru do that? The last time you saw him, he was so happy. He was smiling; he teased you. What happened? It made no sense.

"So, you haven't seen him for nine years?" You ask. "Not even a glimpse?"

Yu shakes his head. "Nothing but his residuals. That's how we know he's still alive."

Nothing computes in your brain. None of it made any sense. You saved Suguru. That was supposed to make everyone happy, including Satoru. Why would he turn around and do this? Defecting made no sense.

"We've actually been tasked to execute him. Since he’s been branded a curse user, all four of us. " Yu laughs with no humor. "Isn't that insane? I don't think any one of us could even fathom doing that, even if it were possible."

It wasn't possible. Gojo was the strongest. Nothing could go toe to toe with him. Once he put his mind to something, no one could stop him.

But maybe you could.

You're shutting that idea down immediately. You were done. You were done with dying and time-travel and strange powers. You wanted it all to be over. It'd be so easy to thank Haibara for the nice meal, to go home and sleep this entire day off. Satoru dug his own grave, he can go lay in it. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions. You wouldn’t. You can’t do that another time.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?

You hate that brat so much.

You close your eyes. Take in a breath. Then, you open them.

"Haibara?" You ask. "Did Gojo tell you how my technique worked?"

He shakes his head. You grimace because convincing him might take a while.

"Okay, well, I'll need you to do a tiny favor for me."

ⴵ

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, you're back already?" Satoru says casually, turning back to gaze at you. "I just left today. How did you convince Haibara to snap your neck? That guy cries after killing a mosquito.”

You’d caught him just as he was leaving campus. Yu’s body was less athletic than Suguru’s. Your breath was slightly ragged, pulled down by minor exhaustion.

It doesn’t weigh down your frustration for Gojo Satoru. The biggest pain in your ass you’ve ever met.

“Shut up.” You snap. “Just answer the question.”

“We haven’t seen each other for a year and that’s how you react?” Satoru ignores you. “That’s mean, Greeny. How ‘bout we discuss my treason over steak. Haibara can pay.”

“Satoru.” You beg, “Why are you doing this? What’s the point? Why is everyone happy with their life except for you?”

That seems to get him. His posture stiffens ever so slightly. You can see him work his jaw. He finally drops his act.

“You didn’t have to come back, y’know.” He murmurs quietly. “You could’ve just stayed in the future. Like you said, Greeny, everyone’s happy with their life. 4 outta’ five. That’s a passing grade.”

For once, you wish you could possess him. You wished you could open his brain and peer into his memories until he finally made sense.

“I could never leave you behind like that.” You say the truth just as quietly. “I’ll die a thousand more deaths than do that.”

He smiles. It looks genuine as it looks painful.

“Yeah, I know. I know you, Greeny. Always gotta’ play hero.” He gives a bitter laugh. “That’s why I defected.”

You stare at him. He’s a fourth-year now, even taller than before. You aren’t equal to him anymore in this body, now you’re starting to think you never were.

“Satoru.” You start because what he’s saying can’t be the truth. Your heart broke and broke. “Did—did you leave—did you leave everyone for a decade just so I’d come back? Why would you do that to yourself?”

He doesn’t say anything. Then, he steps forward, just a bit.

“It’s your fault,” Satoru says like it’s instinct to blame you for his actions, “this was your idea.”

What’s he talking about? And then memories of the two of you sitting on that bench just outside of campus.

What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it? So that’s what he meant. You were an idiot.

“That’s not fair, Satoru,” you say regardless, “I—I never—I couldn’t expect you’d do this.”

“What choice did I fucking have, Greeny?” There’s rapid steps and he’s in front of you, desperate and wild. “You—you just left me here. You left me alone and I couldn’t even look for you because I know nothing about you. Your face, your eyes, your hair, not even your fucking name! How’s that fair?”

It’s true. It’s all true. As much as you tried to claim you tried to make everyone happy, you only focused on Suguru. And Suguru’s happiness enlisted space from the strongest. In a different timeline, things would be different between them. A button he never left behind. Words Satoru never said. That timeline held too much pain and suffering, so you scrubbed it from history. In this rendition, everything was changed. Suguru had Shoko. Yu had Kento. Who did Satoru have?

You saved Suguru in this timeline. But to save him, you neglected Satoru.

Satoru must have known. He must have known you intentionally distanced Suguru from him, but he allowed it anyway. Satoru’s selfless like that. Too giving. Too Godlike.

But he’s selfish too. Purposefully demeaning himself so he could get one more glimpse of you, uncaring if you went through hell for his sake. Too taking. Too human.

Once, you told him that if he was selfish, just once, you wouldn’t fault him. What a liar you are.

You forgive Satoru.

“I’m sorry.” Haibara’s voice is like your own. You step closer. His infinity lets you in. “I’m sorry Satoru. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

It’s hard to wrap him in a hug. The brat’s too big. He sinks into your touch like a tiger, filled with dangerous claws, retracted just for your sake. He shakes the tiniest bit; even now, he’s keeping himself as a pinnacle. If you hear a sniffle or two, you don’t comment on it.

It’s why your heart breaks to tell him the truth.

“I can’t give you my name.” You whisper in his ear. He pulls back. He doesn’t look at you.

“Yeah, I know. I know. time-travel bullshit—”

“For now.” You add. “I can’t do that for now.”

Three pairs of eyes look at you. You’re not hiding behind Haibara anymore. You’re not trying to.

“December 24th, 2017. 8:06. Tokyo Skytree.” You look at him. “Can you wait until then?”

For you, it’d only be an hour. For Satoru, it’d be a decade.

You expect him to reject it, to yell at you. You decide if he wants to be selfish; you’d let him.

“If you don’t show up, I’ll turn evil.” You laugh. His grin widens and he’s back again. “I’m serious. I’ll take over the world. I’ll throw the biggest temper tantrum ever.”

“You’re such a brat.” There’s no hostility in your tone. “I will. I promise.”

‘I’ll save you,’ You promise in your head because he’s too prideful to hear it.

“Is it still possible for you to go back?” You ask, the wariness present again. “The higher ups haven’t taken any action against you, right?”

He shakes his head.

“I think Yaga might yell at me, but other than that.” He shrugs. “They’ll decide it’s teen rebellion and sweep it under the rug.”

You laugh again. Satoru shoots you a toothy grin.

When you reach out a hand, Satoru mirrors you. He clasps your hand in his. For once, you wonder how they’ll feel on your own.

“See ya’ later, Greeny.”

A blink. Satoru’s gone. Your hand is empty, and you’re standing in the streets of Shinjuku once again.

ⴵ

December 24th, 2017. 8:06, at the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

Why did you decide on that date and time for all the places? You were so fucking stupid. You needed to stop being so poetic.

It’s already 7:12 when you’re desperately waving down a taxi. The driver looks disinterested when you blubber out the location. When he tells you it’ll cost extra because Sumida City isn’t part of his route, you’re more than happy to fork over the money.

It’s already 7:35 when you stumble through the interiors of Tokyo Skytree town. It’s crowded. Fuck, it’s December 24th, of course people would be out and about.

At 7:44, you finally reach the observational building. And then you hit upon a snag.

It’s closed.

Renovations, the sign reads, accompanied by an irritatingly cute drawing of a cat, please come visit us next week.

Would this excuse be enough to satisfy Satoru? You’re only human. Surely he’d understand if you couldn’t make it because the entire building was shut down.

Or wait. Was this Satoru’s doing?

You look up at the tower. Lights were still on and flickering. No crowds. No people. No prying eyes.

Let it be known that you’ve never trespassed before, until you met Gojo Satoru.

With a guilty conscious, you step over the line. You justify it by convincing yourself you were saving the world because you know Satoru wasn’t joking a decade ago.

The elevators still worked. Thank God. Yet another hint he’s paving the way for you. You made the location, but it feels like you’re a mouse stuck in a human-designed maze. Even though you set up the game, he’s still managed to rig it.

You land on the first deck at 7:52. At 7:56, you reach the second observational deck.

It’s empty. You’ve never seen the skytree so empty before. Not a single soul is here except for you. Your footsteps echo across the floor. Were you early?

Out the corner of your eye, there’s a post-it note stuck on the window. A hand-drawn arrow. Up ahead, there’s another one.

You follow the next, and then the next. All the time you don’t know how to feel about him doing all of this just for an encounter. Something bubbles in your stomach. You’re pushing it down.

You follow the post-its until there’s one placed right on top of a door.

Authorized personnel only. Why does this brat continue to test you?

But it’s already 8:03; you’re far too deep to complain.

A service elevator greets you. If you press the button, it’ll take you all the way up to the broadcast equipment, the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

It’s different from the past two elevator rides. The service elevator isn’t all that polished. The wheels squeak a little too dangerously at times. It’s slower, too.

That’s bad, because now you’re starting to think.

That familiar feeling boils within your stomach, again. You’re anxious. It’s strange to say, but meeting Satoru through Suguru, meeting Satoru through Yu, it felt like you had a protective shell around yourself. You were free from his judgement, only invoking curiosity.

If you show yourself to him, how would he react? What would he say? Would he get angry that you made him wait a decade for such a blunder? Even worse, what if he doesn’t get angry?

What if—what if he’s disappointed by you?

Cold feet. It freezes your toes. You want to go back. You want the elevator to go back down, you want to go home and hide away.

But you promised Satoru. He deserves answers.

Pathetic answers are better than no answers at all.

Instead of your soul being protected by a sorcerer's body, it’s protected by your own. You’d steel yourself for whatever comes next. You could melt after.

It’s windy up here. That’s the first thing you notice. Icy wind cuts at your face and your eyes squint so they don’t dry out so quickly. It’s colder, too; your jacket is nice protection, but nothing helps your vulnerable hands.

But the view. Oh, what a view.

The sea of twinkling lights shines from the city. The sun has set, leaving Tokyo to do nothing but shine. She’s gorgeous like she’s picked the stars from the sky, burying them within her own soul. You could stay there forever, if she let you.

It’s 8:09. Satoru was late.

Or maybe he just wasn’t planning to show up.

You lean away from the railing. It’s just like him to make huge gestures and at the last moment, ditch everything. The balloon in your lungs deflates ever so slightly.

And then, you can feel hands.

Around your shoulders, caging you in. Large and warm despite the icy air. You know these hands. They’re familiar, even a decade later. His chest presses up against your back. His face settles in the crook of your neck.

His laugh tickles your ear, and you aren’t so cold anymore.

“Caught ya, Greeny.”

(“Did something happen to you, back there in the house?”

"Hm?" Suguru asked.

They were wading through long grass and overgrown weeds. Satoru glances at his friend. Suguru looks fine. His cursed energy has gone back to normal. That's probably good.

"You were just acting weird," Satoru said, "I mean you fell on your ass in front of a curse. Embarrassing."

Suguru huffed, a red hue across his cheeks. "Shut up, don't remind me."

'So he remembered,' Satoru thinks, 'didn't expect that.'

They're almost to the car when Suguru speaks again.

"Actually, I did feel a little strange," he says, "I felt like I wasn't really all there. There was this voice, guiding me along."

"Really?" Satoru shivers. "That sounds creepy."

So the entity within Suguru was a bad thing after all. He should try to get rid of it if it ever comes back. It might take a complex spell or something-

"Not really." Suguru said. "It's hard to explain, but it felt....nice."

"Nice?" Satoru echoes.

"Yeah."

And then it's quiet again.)

Part two: Rewound Infinitely

#yandere #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #time travel fix it #a crumbling storyline #platonic haibara x reader #dark content #f!reader #implied romance #tw:blood/violence #tw: child abuse #unrequited feelings #ambiguous ending #BUT its a positive one

3K notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 2 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　DRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I added and changed some dialogs that didn't happen on the video, so the fic ended being more complete.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

1K notes · View notes

jupiterpilgrim · 2 months ago

Text

The Secret Folders - Or Surprisingly Exposed

Seulgi x Male Reader

word count: 4.5K

The horror movie flickers across the TV screen, casting dancing shadows around Seulgi's dimly lit living room. But you can barely focus on the generic slasher plot - not with her sitting so close beside you on the plush leather couch. Your best friend since college is wearing those damn gray pajama pants again, the ones that hug every curve of her toned legs and petite frame. Combined with a loose t-shirt that's always sliding off her shoulder, giving a glimpse of her collarbone; she's the perfect mix of casual comfort and unintentional sexiness that's been driving you insane lately.

"Earth to spacehead," Seulgi says with a playful nudge, breaking you from your wandering thoughts. "That's like the third time you've jumped at absolutely nothing. The movie's not even at a scary part yet."

You force what you hope is a casual laugh, hyper-aware of how her half-bare shoulder brushes against yours as she shifts position. "Just tired I guess. Long week at work and all that."

"Bullshit," she counters with that knowing half-smirk that makes your stomach do backflips. "I've seen you marathon horror movies until 4 AM after double shifts. Try again."

"Maybe I'm just getting old and jumpy?" You attempt deflection, but your voice comes out higher than intended.

Seulgi pauses the movie mid-scene, turning to face you fully with her legs tucked under her.

"Or maybe," she draws out the words slowly, dark eyes studying your expression, "you're distracted by something else entirely. Or should I say... someone?"

Your heart rate kicks up several notches. There's a glint in her eye that you've never seen before - something predatory and knowing that makes your mouth go dry. "W-what do you mean?"

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean." She leans in slightly, her vanilla-scented shampoo filling your senses. "See, the other day when I borrowed your laptop to print those work documents? I may have accidentally stumbled across some... interesting folders."

The blood drains from your face as realization hits.

Fuck.

Those folders.

The ones you thought were safely buried in obscure subfolders with innocuous names. The ones filled with carefully edited split-screen videos - porn on one side, usually featuring petite Asian women who looked just like...

"Your face is doing that thing it does when you're panicking," Seulgi observes, seeming almost amused by your deer-in-headlights expression. "The same look you had that time we almost got caught sneaking into the campus pool senior year."

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. How do you explain away folders full of porn videos meticulously edited to display alongside photos of your best friend? There's no platonic explanation for that level of obsession.

"I have to say," she continues casually, as if discussing the movie rather than your darkest secret, "I'm a little hurt you didn't just tell me you were into me. We've been friends for what, six years now? That's a long time to keep those kinds of feelings bottled up."

"Seulgi, I..." you start, then falter. "I never wanted to mess up our friendship. You mean too much to me to risk that. And I know those folders were fucked up. I promise I'll delete everything! I'm so sorry you had to see that-"

"Shh." She presses a finger to your lips, effectively silencing your rambling apology. "I'm not finished. Because while I was surprised to find those folders... What surprised me more was realizing how much they turned me on. Damn, I didn't know you were such a dirty boy."

Your brain short-circuits at her words, unable to process this turn of events. Seulgi takes advantage of your stunned silence to slide closer.

"Want to know a secret?" she whispers, her lips barely an inch from your ear. "I've thought about you too. All those times we've had sleepovers, sharing my bed... I'd lie awake wondering what would happen if I just rolled over and kissed you. If I told you how wet I get when you look at me with those hungry eyes you think I don't notice."

"Fuck," you breathe out shakily as her hand lands on your thigh, fingertips tracing idle patterns through your sweatpants. "Is this really happening?"

"That depends," she replies with mock thoughtfulness. "Do you want it to be happening? Because I saw those videos you like... all those pretty Asian girls taking it up the ass... is that what you want to do to me? Do you want me to be your anal princess?"

Your grip on the couch cushion tightens as arousal shoots through you at her blunt words. Hearing your best friend talk like this is driving you crazy.

"Don't worry, I always wanted this too," she continues, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Do you remember all those times I'd sit in your lap for no reason? When I'd 'accidentally' grind against you while reaching for something?" She grins wickedly. "That wasn't accidental at all. I've been trying to make you hard for months."

Your mind races back through countless moments - Seulgi plopping down on your lap during movie nights, wiggling her tight little ass against your crotch as she "got comfortable." How many times had you gone home afterward to jerk off thinking about it?

"I could feel it, you know," she continues, her voice dropping lower. "How hard you'd get. Sometimes I could even feel your cock twitch through your pants. It made me so wet knowing I was affecting you like that."

You groan, unable to help yourself. "Fuck, Seulgi..."

"And you know what really got me hot?" She leans in close, her lips brushing your ear. "Sometimes I could feel your cock right against my asshole through our clothes. The way it would press right there... god, it made me want to just pull my pants down and let you fuck my ass right then and there."

Your cock is straining painfully against your jeans now as Seulgi's dirty confession pours out. She notices, of course, and presses her palm firmly against your bulge.

"You still haven't answered me: all those videos you picked - they were all anal scenes. Is that what you think about? Fucking my tight little ass?"

Unable to form words, you just nod. Seulgi's hand squeezes your cock through your pants.

"Tell me," she demands. "I want to hear you say it."

Swallowing hard, you force yourself to meet her intense gaze. "Yes. Fuck yes! I think about your ass all the time. Every time you wear that fucking leggings, I can see every curve, how tight and perfect it is. I go home and jerk off thinking about spreading those cheeks and burying my cock in your ass."

Seulgi moans, grinding the heel of her hand against your erection. "Keep going. Tell me more."

The dam breaks and all your pent-up fantasies come pouring out. "I think about eating your ass first, getting it nice and wet with my tongue. Spreading you open and licking you until you're begging for my cock. Then sliding into that tight hole inch by inch while you take it all..."

"Fuck," Seulgi gasps, her free hand sliding between her own legs. "I knew we had a connection. Want to know a secret?"

You nod eagerly, hypnotized by the way she's rubbing herself through her pants.

"I have toys," she confesses. "Butt plugs, dildos... I use them in my ass almost every night thinking about you. Imagining it's your thick cock stretching me open instead."

That confession breaks the last of your restraint. With a growl, you grab Seulgi and pull her into your lap, crushing your lips together in a desperate kiss. She responds immediately, grinding her ass against your cock as her tongue invades your mouth.

You grab her firm ass with both hands, squeezing and spreading the cheeks through the fabric. Seulgi moans into your mouth, rolling her hips to create more friction.

"Bedroom," she pants, breaking the kiss. "Now. I need you to fuck my ass properly."

You don't need to be told twice. Standing up with Seulgi still wrapped around you, you carry her down the hall to her room, hands firmly gripping her ass the whole way. She attacks your neck with kisses and little bites that make your cock throb.

Once in her bedroom, you toss her onto the bed and she bounces with a giggle that quickly turns into a moan as you grab the waistband of her pajama pants and yank them down. Her tiny black thong comes with them, leaving her lower half completely exposed.

"Fuck, look at that ass," you breathe, taking in the sight of her small, perfectly round cheeks. You've imagined this view countless times, but reality is so much better.

Seulgi wiggles her hips teasingly. "Touch it. I've been waiting so long to feel your hands on me."

You don't hesitate, climbing onto the bed and running your palms over the smooth globes of her ass. Her skin is incredibly soft and warm under your touch. You squeeze and knead the firm flesh, spreading her cheeks to reveal her tight pink hole.

"God, it's perfect," you groan, rubbing your thumb over her puckered entrance. Seulgi pushes back against the touch with a whimper.

"Taste it," she demands, arching her back to present herself better. "I want to feel your tongue in my ass."

You dive in eagerly, spreading her cheeks wide and dragging your tongue from her dripping pussy up to her asshole. Seulgi cries out, pushing back against your face as you circle her rim with firm licks.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," she moans. "Get my ass nice and wet for your cock."

You alternate between broad licks and pointed jabs with your tongue, gradually working the tip past her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi's whole body shudders as you tongue-fuck her ass, her pussy dripping onto the sheets below.

"More," she begs. "Stick your tongue in deeper. Get me ready for that thick cock."

You redouble your efforts, gripping her ass cheeks hard enough to leave marks as you bury your face between them. Your tongue pushes deeper into her hot channel while your nose presses against her taint. The musky, intimate taste of her ass only makes you harder.

Seulgi reaches back and spreads herself even wider for you. "That's it, eat my fucking ass. God, I've dreamed about this so many times."

You pull back just enough to spit directly onto her hole, watching it clench and relax. "Me too. Every time you sat on my lap, I wanted to bend you over and tongue-fuck this perfect little ass."

"I knew it," she pants. "I could feel how hard you'd get. Sometimes I'd grind back extra hard just to feel your cock pressing against my asshole through our clothes."

You press your thumb against her spit-slicked entrance, watching it slowly sink in to the first knuckle. Seulgi moans and pushes back, taking it deeper.

"Look how eager your ass is," you tease, working your thumb in and out. "Such a greedy little hole."

"Only for you," she gasps. "I've been saving my ass for your cock. Now stop teasing and fuck me already."

But you're not done exploring yet. You've fantasized about this too long to rush it. Pulling your thumb out, you replace it with two fingers, slowly working them into her tight channel.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi hisses. "Stretch me open. Get me ready for that big dick."

You pump your fingers steadily in and out of her ass, watching in fascination as her hole grips and releases them. Your other hand slides around to find her clit, rubbing the swollen nub in time with your thrusts.

"Oh god," she moans, rocking between your fingers. "That feels so fucking good. Add another finger, please. I want to be nice and loose for you."

You comply, working a third digit into her stretched hole. Seulgi's back arches beautifully as she takes it, a long moan escaping her lips.

"Such a good girl, taking it so well," you praise, scissoring your fingers to open her up more. "I can't wait to feel this tight ass wrapped around my cock."

"Please," she whimpers. "I need it. Need your cock in my ass so bad."

You continue finger-fucking her ass while your other hand works her clit, building her up slowly. Seulgi's moans get higher and more desperate as she approaches orgasm.

"That's it," you encourage. "Cum for me. Cum with my fingers in your ass."

Seulgi's whole body tenses as she crashes over the edge, her ass clenching rhythmically around your fingers as she cums. You work her through it, only stopping when she collapses bonelessly onto the bed.

"Holy fuck," she pants, looking back at you with glazed eyes. "That was so good."

You slowly withdraw your fingers, admiring how her hole stays slightly open. "Just wait until you feel my cock in there."

"Yes please," she purrs, rolling onto her back. "But first, get naked. I want to see what I've been missing."

You quickly strip off your clothes, your cock springing free rock hard and leaking. Seulgi's eyes go wide as she takes in your size.

"Fuck, you're bigger than my toys," she says appreciatively. "No wonder I could feel you so well through your pants."

She sits up and pulls her t-shirt off, revealing small, perky breasts with hard nipples. Your mouth waters at the sight of her toned body, tight abs leading down to her bare pussy.

"Come here," she beckons, reaching for your cock. "Let me get you nice and wet first."

You move closer and Seulgi wraps her small hand around your shaft, stroking slowly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.

"I've wanted to touch your cock for so long," she admits, leaning in to lick a stripe up the underside. "Every time I felt it getting hard under me, I wanted to pull it out and suck it."

Her tongue swirls around the head before she takes you into her mouth. You groan as she sucks you deeper, her hand working what doesn't fit.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing," you pant, threading your fingers through her hair.

Seulgi hums around your cock, the vibrations making your legs shake. She works you expertly, alternating between deep throat attempts and focusing on the sensitive head.

After a few minutes of this heavenly torture, you have to stop her. "Wait, I don't want to cum yet. I want to save it for your ass."

She releases you after a long suck on the tip. "Mmm, yes please. I want you to cum deep in my ass."

Seulgi rolls over onto her hands and knees, presenting her ass to you once again. "I need your cock in my ass so bad, babe. The lube is on the nightstand."

You grab the bottle and drizzle it generously over her hole and your cock. Using your fingers, you work it into her ass, making sure she's well-prepared.

"Ready?" you ask, lining yourself up with her entrance.

"God yes," she moans. "Fill my ass with that big cock."

You press forward slowly, watching the head of your cock stretch her tight ring of muscle. Seulgi whimpers as you breach her, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"You okay?" you check, pausing to let her adjust.

"Yes, don't stop," she pants. "Keep going. I want all of it."

You continue pushing forward inch by inch, groaning at the incredible tightness of her ass. Seulgi rocks back slightly, helping to work you deeper.

"Fuck, you're so big," she gasps. "My ass feels so full."

Finally, you bottom out, your hips pressed flush against her ass cheeks. You both moan at the sensation of being completely joined.

"How does it feel?" you ask, running your hands over her back.

"Amazing," she breathes. "Better than I ever imagined. Start moving, please. I need you to fuck my ass."

You pull back slowly until just the head remains inside, then push back in at the same pace. Seulgi's ass grips you like a vice, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"God, your ass is perfect," you groan, establishing a steady rhythm. "So fucking tight around my cock."

"Yes, fuck my ass," she moans. "Use my tight little hole. I've been saving it just for you."

You gradually increase your pace, watching in fascination as her ass swallows your cock over and over. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her stretched hole is hypnotic.

Seulgi reaches between her legs to play with her clit as you fuck her ass. "Harder," she demands. "I can take it. I want you to really fuck me."

You grip her hips tighter and start pounding into her ass with more force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with both of your moans and gasps.

"Yes, just like that," she cries. "Fuck my ass hard. Make me your anal whore."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you slam into her even harder, watching her small body jolt with each thrust. Your balls slap against her pussy, adding to the obscene symphony of sounds.

"You like that?" you growl, spanking her ass cheek. "Like having your tight little ass stretched around my cock?"

"God yes," she pants. "I love it. Love feeling you so deep in my ass. Don't stop, please don't stop!"

You can feel her getting close again, her ass clenching rhythmically around your cock as she works her clit faster. The extra tightness is bringing you closer to the edge too.

"Gonna cum soon," you warn, your thrusts becoming more erratic.

"Inside," she begs. "Cum in my ass! Fill me up with your hot load."

The combination of her words and her tight ass proves too much. With a final deep thrust, you explode inside her, painting her walls with rope after rope of cum. The feeling of being filled triggers Seulgi's own orgasm and she screams your name as she cums hard around your cock.

You continue pumping slowly, working both of you through your climaxes until you're completely spent. It's when you collapse forward, careful not to crush her smaller frame. Both of you pant heavily as you come down from your respective highs.

"Stay inside me," she murmurs when you start to pull out. "I want to feel your cum in my ass as long as possible."

You comply, remaining buried in her stretched hole as it continues to pulse around your softening cock.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, bringing your face closer to kiss her neck. Her tight hole squeezes you and you can feel your cum starting to leak out around your shaft.

"I can't believe we finally did this," Seulgi says softly, turning her head to look at you with those beautiful eyes that always drive you crazy. "I've wanted you for so long..."

"Really?" you ask, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea. I mean, I've always been attracted to you too but I figured I wasn't your type."

She lets out a little laugh. "Are you kidding? You're exactly my type. I've been fantasizing about you fucking me like this for years." She rolls her hips slightly, making you both moan as your semi-hard cock shifts inside her cum-filled ass.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you ask, running your hands up and down her smooth back.

"Same reason as you probably - didn't want to risk ruining our friendship," she admits. "Plus I wasn't sure if you saw me that way. I mean, you were always so shy, never showing any obvious interest, despite your glances at me... It was hard to decipher what you really wanted."

"Well, now you know what I really want. Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about that perfect little ass of yours?" You give her ass cheeks a squeeze for emphasis. "Or those cute little tits? Or those fucking gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?"

Seulgi moans softly at your words, her ass clenching around you again. "Mmm tell me more... What else did you think about doing to me?"

You can feel your dick starting to harden again inside her as you continue: "Fuck, everything. Bending you over every surface in my apartment. Watching you bounce on my cock. Filling all your tight little holes with cum. The way you'd look with my dick stretching out that pretty mouth..."

"God yes," she whimpers, beginning to slowly grind against you. Your cock is definitely getting hard again now, making her gasp as it swells inside her ass. "I used to imagine you just grabbing me one day and taking what you wanted. Pushing me up against a wall and shoving your big cock inside me..."

"Yeah? You wanted me to just use you like a little fucktoy?"

"Yes! Fuck yes," she confesses. "I wanted you to treat me like your personal cumslut. Make me take that fat cock however you wanted..."

Your dick is fully hard again now, throbbing inside her cum-filled ass. You can feel your previous load still leaking out around your shaft as she continues grinding against you.

"Well now we can make up for lost time," you tell Seulgi as you pull out of her slowly, laying on your back on the bed as you pull her on top of you. "I'm going to fuck this tight little ass whenever I want now. Fill you up with load after load of cum..."

"Promise?" she asks breathlessly, grabbing your cock in her hand as she slowly reinserts it into her ass, sitting on top of you. The new angle lets you fully appreciate her perfect petite body - those perky tits, flat stomach, and that incredible ass currently impaled on your shaft.

"Fuck yes I promise. But now I want to see your perfect little body riding my cock..." You grab her hips and thrust up into her, making her cry out in pleasure.

"Oh god! Yes! Let me ride you," Seulgi purrs. She starts rolling her hips experimentally, getting used to the feeling of controlling the penetration. Your previous load of cum makes obscene wet sounds as she moves, some of it leaking out around your cock and dripping onto your balls. The sight of your thick shaft disappearing into her tight little hole is fucking mesmerizing.

"Fuck, you look so hot like this," you groan, gripping her slim hips. Her ass clenches around you at the compliment, making you both moan.

"Yeah? You like watching me bounce on your big cock?" she asks breathlessly, starting to lift herself up and down properly now. The way she moves is absolutely perfect - she clearly knows exactly what she wants and how to get it.

"God yes, love watching this tight little ass take my cock," you tell her, giving her ass cheeks a squeeze. "Such a perfect little slut, riding me like you were made for it..."

Seulgi throws her head back and really starts going for it, bouncing enthusiastically on your dick. Her small tits bounce with the movement and you reach up to pinch her hard nipples, making her cry out in pleasure. The wet sounds of your cum squelching around your shaft get even louder as she picks up speed.

"Fuck! Your cock feels so good in my ass," she pants, grinding down hard against you. "Love feeling it stretch me open... Love having your cum inside me..."

You thrust up to meet her movements, driving your cock deeper into her tight hole. The way she's riding you is absolutely incredible - her ass is still gripping your shaft like a vice even after taking your first load. Every time she drops down, taking you balls deep, she lets out these perfect little whimpers that drive you crazy.

"That's it baby, ride that cock," you encourage her, running your hands up her sides to cup her tits. "Show me how badly you've wanted this..."

"Wanted it so bad," she moans, bouncing faster. "Dreamed about riding your big cock like this... Feeling you stretch my tight little ass..."

Her dirty talk spurs you on and you start thrusting up harder, making her cry out with each deep stroke. The sight of your shaft disappearing into her perfect ass over and over, still slick with your previous load, is absolutely incredible. Some of your cum is leaking out around your cock, running down onto your balls in thick white streams.

"Such a perfect little anal slut," you growl, squeezing her tits roughly. "Taking my cock so well, begging for more... Were you always this much of a cumslut or is it just for me?"

"Just for you," she gasps, grinding down hard. "Never wanted anyone else like this... Never begged for anyone else's cum..."

Her words make your cock throb inside her and you start really pounding up into her tight hole. The way she's moving her hips is absolutely perfect, grinding down to take you as deep as possible before lifting up until just the tip remains inside her. Her ass clenches around you each time she rises up, like she doesn't want to let your cock go.

"Fuck yes, ride that dick," you encourage her, gripping her hips tightly. "Show me how badly you want another load in this tight little ass..."

"Want it so bad," she moans, bouncing frantically now. "Want you to fill me up again... Want even more of your hot cum deep inside me..."

The sight of her riding you like this is absolutely incredible. Her perfect little body bouncing on your cock, her tight ass gripping and milking your shaft, the way your previous load is leaking out around your cock - it's all driving you crazy with lust.

"Gonna fill this tight hole up again," you grunt, squeezing her ass roughly. "Paint your insides white with another huge load..."

"Yes! Please cum in my ass again," she begs, grinding down hard. "Want to feel you pump me full... Want your hot cum deep inside me..."

You can feel your orgasm building as she continues riding you frantically, her tight hole milking your cock perfectly.

"Fuck, I'm close," you warn her, gripping her hips tightly. "Gonna fill this perfect little ass up again..."

"Do it! Cum inside me," she moans, grinding down hard. "Fill me up, mark me as yours..."

A few more bounces and you're there, groaning loudly as you start pumping another huge load deep in her ass. Seulgi cries out and clenches around you, her own orgasm hitting as she feels your hot cum flooding her insides.

"Oh god, yes! I can feel it," she gasps, grinding against you as you continue spurting inside her. "So much cum... Filling me up so good..."

You thrust up a few more times, making sure to deposit every drop of cum as deep as possible in her tight hole. When you're finally spent, she collapses forward onto your chest, her sweat-slick skin sliding against yours, both of you breathing heavily as your softening cock remains buried in her thoroughly fucked and cum-filled ass.

"That was fucking incredible," you pant, running your hands up and down her back.

"Mmm it really was," she agrees, nuzzling against your neck. "Best night ever. We definitely need to do this again. Like, a lot."

"Oh we will," you assure her with a grin. "I meant what I said - I'm going to use this perfect little ass whenever I want now. You’re mine. Officially. No take-backs.”

Her grin softens into something more genuine, and she cups your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “So we’re doing this? Like, actually doing this?”

“Hell yes, we are,” you reply without hesitation. “We’ve wasted enough time pretending we didn’t want this. And now that I know how good we are together, you really think I’m letting you go?”

She pulls you into a kiss, slow and deep. “Good. Because I don’t want to go anywhere. I'm stuck with you now.”

“Stuck with me?” you repeat, smirking. “Babe, I'm the one who'll have to deal with your insane ass from now on. If anyone’s ‘stuck,’ it’s me.”

“Oh, please,” she fires back, rolling her eyes. “You love my insane ass.”

“Damn right, I do,” you say, sliding a hand down to squeeze it for emphasis. “And I plan on showing you just how much, every chance I get.”

She laughs, wrapping her arms around your neck. “God, we’re so screwed up. Who the hell starts a relationship like this?”

You shrug, leaning down to kiss her again. “Us, apparently. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The two of you stay tangled up in each other, talking and teasing until the conversation drifts back to the years of near-misses and unspoken feelings. It’s all out in the open now, and for the first time, it feels like everything’s exactly where it’s supposed to be.

—

You slowly open your eyes, still groggy from last night's intense activities. The morning sunlight filters through the curtains of Seulgi's bedroom, casting a warm glow across the messy sheets. Your naked body feels pleasantly sore as memories from yesterday flood back - how your petite best friend discovered those edited porn videos you made of her, and instead of getting pissed off, she got turned on. Who would've thought sweet little Seulgi was such a dirty girl?

The bed beside you is empty but still warm. You stretch lazily, enjoying the lingering scent of sex in the air mixed with her perfume. Your morning wood is already throbbing as you replay highlights from last night - Seulgi's tight little ass bouncing on your cock, her moans when you ate her holes, the way she begged for more...

The bedroom door opens and there she is - your best friend in all her sweaty glory. She's wearing a sports bra that shows off her perky tits and skin-tight leggings that hug every curve. Her skin glistens with perspiration, loose strands of hair sticking to her flushed face. Your cock instantly gets even harder.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Seulgi chirps, grabbing a towel to wipe her face. "Hope you don't mind, I always do my morning workout. Gotta keep this body tight, you know?" She strikes a playful pose.

"Fuck, you look incredible all sweaty like that," you growl, drinking in her athletic form. The way those leggings cling to her ass should be illegal. "Your body is fucking perfect."

She bites her lip, clearly pleased by the compliment. "Mmm, someone slept well I see," she says, eyeing your obvious erection beneath the sheets. "Still naked under there?"

"Want to come find out for yourself?"

"Actually..." Seulgi's eyes gleam with mischief. "I could use some extra cardio. Work up even more of a sweat..."

You throw back the sheets, exposing your rock-hard cock. "Get that sexy ass over here then."

Seulgi saunters toward the bed, her hips swaying. The musky scent of her post-workout sweat hits your nostrils and makes your mouth water. When she gets close enough, you grab her wrist and pull her down on top of you.

"Mmm, someone's eager," she giggles, grinding against your erection through her leggings.

You bury your face in her neck, inhaling deeply. The salty tang of her sweat mixed with her natural scent is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to taste her glistening skin, trailing up to her ear.

"Fuck, you taste so good all sweaty," you growl. "I want to lick every inch of you."

Seulgi moans as you suck and nibble at her neck, leaving marks. Your hands roam over her toned body, squeezing her ass through those sinfully tight leggings. You've fantasized about her in workout clothes so many times, and now you finally get to live it out.

Your mouths crash together in a heated kiss. She tastes like mint - must have brushed her teeth before working out. Your tongues battle for dominance as you grind against each other. One hand slides up under her sports bra to pinch a hard nipple.

"These fucking leggings," you groan between kisses. "Do you know how many times I've jerked off thinking about ripping them open and fucking you in them?"

"Show me," she purrs. "Make those dirty fantasies real."

You don't need to be told twice. Gripping the fabric between her legs, you tear a hole right over her pussy and ass. The sound of ripping material fills the room as Seulgi gasps.

"Fuck yes, ruin them," she moans. "I love how fucking nasty you are."

You run your fingers over her exposed holes. Her pussy is already dripping wet, her asshole still slightly gaped from last night's pounding.

"I gotta admit, I'm gonna miss these leggings," Seulgi whines, but her pussy visibly clenches at the dominant display.

"I'll buy you new ones," you reply, tearing the hole wider until it extends from her lower back to her upper thighs. The torn edges frame her holes perfectly. "Now get to work on my cock while I eat this pretty pussy.”

She straddles your face in reverse, giving you a perfect view of her holes as she wraps her lips around your throbbing shaft. You groan at the wet heat enveloping your cock, the vibrations making her moan around you.

You spread her ass cheeks wide, admiring how her holes glisten with arousal. Her pussy is swollen and pink, cream already gathering at her entrance. Her tight asshole clenches invitingly.

"Such a pretty view," you murmur before diving in, dragging your tongue from her clit all the way up to her asshole. She shudders and moans around your cock, taking you deeper.

You alternate between broad licks through her folds and targeted flicks against her clit, gathering her tangy juices on your tongue. Her thighs start trembling as you suck her sensitive nub, her own oral efforts becoming sloppier as pleasure overtakes her.

"Mmmph!" she gags slightly as you thrust up into her throat, your hands gripping her ass to hold her in place. Tears gather in her eyes but she doesn't pull away, relaxing her throat to take you deeper.

You release her clit with a wet pop. "Good girl, taking my cock so deep while I eat this pussy." You punctuate your words by spearing your tongue into her dripping hole, tasting her deepest parts.

Her hips start grinding against your face as you tongue-fuck her, smearing her juices all over your chin. The torn leggings frame the erotic sight perfectly, the ripped edges emphasizing how thoroughly you're debauching her.

You pull back slightly to admire your work - her pussy is even more swollen now, her inner lips puffy and glistening. Her clit stands out prominently, begging for more attention. Above, her asshole clenches rhythmically, practically begging to be played with.

You drag your tongue up to circle her puckered entrance. Seulgi's whole body jerks at the contact, a muffled moan vibrating around your cock.

"Your ass is perfect," you murmur against her skin before diving back in, circling her rim with firm pressure. Her resistance melts away as you continue the rimming, replaced by breathy moans and hip rolls against your face.

You alternate between her holes - tongue-fucking her pussy until she's dripping, then moving up to tease her ass until it's quivering. Her own oral efforts match your intensity, her throat muscles massaging your cock as she deep throats you.

"Such a dirty girl," you growl between licks. "Getting your ass eaten while deepthroating cock... I bet you were planning this when you invited me to watch a fucking horror movie yesterday.”

She pulls off your cock with a gasp. "And it worked so we- Oh fuck, don't stop... feels so good..." She immediately swallows you back down, sucking with renewed vigor.

You focus your attention on her asshole, pointing your tongue to breach the tight ring of muscle. She practically squeals around your cock as you tongue-fuck her ass, her thighs shaking uncontrollably.

Her pussy is dripping steadily now, cream coating your chin and neck. You reach up to gather some on your fingers, using it to lubricate her asshole as you continue eating it. One finger slides in easily alongside your tongue, making her whole body jerk.

"Gonna make you cum just from eating your ass," you promise, working a second finger into her tight hole while your tongue continues circling the rim. Your other hand moves to her clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub.

She's barely sucking your cock anymore, just holding it in her mouth as she pants and moans. Her hips rock desperately between your fingers and tongue, chasing her release.

"That's it baby, ride my face," you encourage, curling your fingers inside her ass while flicking her clit rapidly. "Want to feel you cum all over my chin..."

Her inner muscles start fluttering around your fingers as her orgasm approaches. You double down on your efforts, tongue and fingers working in harmony to push her over the edge.

She pulls off your cock with a cry as she starts cumming, her whole body convulsing. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuck!" Her pussy gushes, coating your chin and neck with cream as her ass clenches rhythmically around your fingers.

You work her through it until she's whimpering from oversensitivity, then slowly withdraw your fingers. Her holes clench around empty air, still quivering from the intense orgasm.

"I-I n-need your cock in my pussy," she pants. "You didn't even fuck it last night because you were so focused on my ass. Time to make up for that."

You give her holes one last long lick before letting her climb off your face. Seulgi turns around and straddles your hips, rubbing her dripping pussy along your shaft.

"Watch how easily your big cock stretches my little hole," she purrs, positioning you at her entrance.

You groan as she sinks down, taking you balls deep in one smooth motion. Her pussy grips you like a vice, so hot and wet around your throbbing member.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you growl, gripping her hips. "Ride that cock, baby. Show me how bad you want it."

Seulgi starts bouncing on your shaft, her perky tits bouncing in the sports bra. Sweat drips down her toned stomach as she works herself on your cock. You reach up to pinch her nipples through the fabric, making her clench around you.

"Your pussy feels amazing," you moan. "So fucking wet for me."

She speeds up her movements, slamming down to take you as deep as possible. Her pussy makes obscene squelching sounds as your cock pistons in and out of her soaking hole.

You thrust up to meet her bounces, making her cry out each time you bottom out. Her pussy cream coats your shaft and balls, making everything deliciously slick. You can feel her inner walls fluttering as she gets close to cumming again.

"Play with your clit," you command. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Seulgi reaches down to rub her swollen nub while continuing to ride you. Her movements become more erratic as pleasure builds. You grab her ass cheeks, spreading them wide and teasing her rim with your thumb.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum on your cock!" she screams. Her pussy clamps down on your shaft as her orgasm hits. You keep thrusting through her climax, prolonging the waves of pleasure.

When her spasms subside, you pull out of her drenched hole. Your cock is coated in her cream, making it perfect for what comes next.

"Get on your hands and knees," you growl. "Time to stuff that tight little ass again."

Seulgi quickly assumes the position, arching her back to present her ass, the torn leggings frame her still-twitching holes perfectly. Her pussy is still pulsing from her orgasm, cream dripping down her thighs. Her asshole winks invitingly, already loosened from your fingers and last night's fucking.

You kneel behind her and rub your slick cock between her cheeks, teasing both holes. "You want my cock in your ass, don't you? Such a dirty girl, getting off on having both holes used."

"Please," she moans, pushing back against you. "Fuck my ass! I need it so bad!"

You press your cockhead against her tight rim, watching it slowly stretch around you. Despite being fucked there just hours ago, she's still deliciously tight. You grab her hips and steadily push forward until you're balls deep in her ass.

"Fuck yes," Seulgi pants. "Your cock feels so good stretching my ass!"

You start with slow, deep strokes, watching your shaft disappear into her hungry hole. Her ass grips you perfectly, sending waves of pleasure up your spine. You reach around to rub her clit, making her moan louder.

"Such a good little anal slut," you growl, speeding up your thrusts. "Taking my cock so deep in your ass while I play with your pussy."

Seulgi pushes back to meet each thrust, clearly loving the double stimulation. Her pussy drips steadily as you pound her ass, adding to the lewd sounds filling the room. You give her ass a hard smack, watching it jiggle.

"Harder!" she begs. "Wreck my fucking ass!"

You grab her hips tight and really start hammering into her. Your balls slap against her pussy with each thrust as you drill her asshole. Sweat drips down your chest, mixing with hers where your bodies meet.

The sight of your cock stretching her tight rim combined with her wanton moans has you getting close. You increase the pressure on her clit, wanting her to cum again before you finish.

"Gonna cum again," Seulgi gasps. "Keep fucking my ass just like that!"

Her whole body shakes as another orgasm rips through her. You feel her asshole spasm around your cock as she screams in pleasure.

“Fuck, I'm almost there,” you moan. “This time I'm gonna cover your little body with my cum.”

You pump into her stretched asshole a few more times, savoring the tight grip before withdrawing with a wet pop. Her gaping hole clenches around empty air as she quickly flips onto her back, her abs glistening with fresh workout sweat. The torn leggings frame her lower half perfectly, her pussy still dripping from her previous orgasms.

"Fuck, look at you," you growl, furiously stroking your cock as you kneel between her spread legs. Your shaft is slick with her ass juices, making obscene squelching sounds as you jerk it. "So fucking hot all sweaty and messy for me..."

Seulgi runs her hands over her damp skin, pinching her hard nipples through her sports bra. "Come on baby, mark me up. Want to feel your hot load all over my abs..."

Your cock throbs harder at her words. She looks like a fucking goddess lying there, skin golden and gleaming with perspiration, hair messy from getting railed, lips swollen from sucking your cock. The contrast of her still being partially clothed in her workout gear while being completely debauched is driving you wild.

"Play with yourself," you command, stroking faster. "Want to watch you rub that clit while I cover you in cum..."

She immediately slides a hand between her legs, fingers circling her swollen clit. Her other hand pushes her sports bra up to fully expose her perky tits, rolling a nipple between her fingers.

"Please," she whimpers, hips bucking as she pleasures herself. "Need your cum so bad... want you to paint me with it..."

You can feel your orgasm building, pressure mounting in your balls. Your cock is angry red and leaking precum steadily. Seulgi notices and licks her lips.

"Are you gonna cum for me baby?" she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Want to feel it hot and thick all over my sweaty body... want you to mark your territory..."

"Fuck... gonna cum so hard for you..." you grunt, your hand a blur on your shaft. The wet sounds of her fingering herself mixed with your jerking is obscene.

"Do it," she demands, her fingers moving faster on her clit. "Fucking cover me... want to feel it splashing on my skin..."

Your orgasm hits like a freight train. The first rope of cum shoots out with incredible force, landing in a thick stripe from her collarbone down between her tits. The second and third spurts paint her ribs and abs, hot white streaks stark against her shiny skin.

"Yes! More!" she cries out, her own orgasm hitting as she watches you mark her. "Cover me!"

You continue cumming, decorating her sweaty stomach with rope after rope of thick seed. Some lands on the torn edges of her leggings, soaking into the fabric. The final few spurts dribble onto her lower abs, mixing with the sweat pooled in the grooves of her muscles.

When you're finally spent, you sit back to admire your work. Seulgi looks absolutely debauched - covered in sweat, cum, and pussy juice, workout clothes torn and disheveled, hair a mess. Your cum is already starting to run down the sides of her torso in rivulets, mixing with her sweat.

She runs her fingers through the mess on her stomach, spreading it around like lotion. The sight of her rubbing your seed into her sweaty skin makes your spent cock twitch weakly.

"Mmm, so much cum," she purrs, gathering some on her fingers and bringing them to her mouth. She maintains eye contact as she sucks them clean, moaning at the taste. "Love how it mixes with my sweat... makes me feel so dirty..."

She continues playing with the cum on her body, alternating between spreading it around and tasting it off her fingers. Some has dripped down to her pussy, mixing with her own juices.

"Fuck, that's hot," you groan, watching her enjoy your mess. She gathers more cum on her fingers and offers them to you. You eagerly suck them clean, tasting the salty mixture of your cum and her sweat.

"Love marking you up like this," you say as she continues rubbing the cooling cum into her skin. "Looking all sweaty and used, covered in my load..."

"Mmm, me too," she sighs contentedly. "Want you to do this every time I come back from working out... mark your territory all over my sweaty body..."

The combination of the visual, her dirty talk, and the various fluids coating her skin makes your cock start to harden again despite having just cum. Seulgi notices and laughs.

"Already getting hard again? Such a horny boy..." she teases, running a cum-covered finger down your shaft. "Save that energy for the next workout... want you nice and pent up so you can cover me in an even bigger load..."

You spend the next few minutes trading lazy kisses and caresses, enjoying the afterglow. Seulgi's skin is still flushed and glowing with sweat. Her sports bra is stained with your cum, marking her as yours.

"I should probably actually shower now," she says eventually. "Want to join me? I could use help getting clean... or maybe getting dirty again."

"Lead the way," you smirk, admiring her ass as she heads to the bathroom.

—

After the shower, you throw on some clothes and head to the kitchen. While Seulgi makes coffee, you raid her fridge for breakfast ingredients. The domestic scene feels surprisingly natural after the intensity of your sexual encounters.

"I still can't believe this all started because you caught me making porn edits of you," you say, cracking eggs into a pan.

She laughs. "I mean, I was shocked at first. But then I watched them and... fuck, they were hot. Made me realize how much I wanted you."

"Could have saved us both a lot of sexual frustration if we'd admitted it sooner."

"True. But making up for lost time has been pretty fun," she winks. "Plus now I have a personal trainer who really knows how to motivate me."

Breakfast becomes less about eating and more about stolen touches. Her fingers graze yours when you pass her a plate, and your knees bump under the table like it’s on purpose. Each bite of food comes with a side of heated glances that linger too long. The energy between you is still electric, even after having sex twice just this morning, alive with the kind of hunger that never truly fades.

Seulgi reaches across the table, her thumb brushing a crumb from your lip. Her touch lingers, her gaze heavy with desire. "We’re really bad at pretending this isn’t gonna happen again in about five minutes, huh?"

You grin, pushing your plate aside.

"Who’s pretending?”

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notsodailycake · 2 months ago

Text

Part 3 for the fitclet I did for @keferon 's mecha pilot jazz au! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

For those who missed it:

Part 1 || Part 2

This is probably the longest out of all the 3 parts, dear god, I went all in. It came out bigger than I ever expected it to be. I was not expecting it to go this far honestly, but the parasites in me, they begged for more. So here we are! :D

Again tho, idk how in character they will be here, but I tried my best ＼(*T▽T*)／. Also, kinda bullshitted my way through in worldbuilding bc idk how things work exactly- and I had to come up with stuff on my own, even tho I'm not that good in mecha world stuff, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies ^^;;

Now, to give credit to those who so desperately deserve it:

My sister @saltynsassy31 for helping me when I couldn't write out some of my ideas and doing it herself (so consider this as a bit of a frankenstein monster of both our writing styles, mainly during intense scenes. If there is any fancy words in this, it's cuz of her) and being my beta reader for this part. Seriously yall, this wouldn't have been as coherent and well written without her help!

Also huge thanks to my online sister @yayadrawsthingz for helping out when I hit a few road blocks during this!

And finally, a huge huge thanks to my honorary online uncle @hexyz09 for helping me finish off the final fight scene when I got stuck during some plot holes and road blocks, or generally just writing myself into a corner and having to help me leave it, despite not knowing jackshit about the au, let alone the ship and characters themselves, but was still willing to help me through in working on the plot, in this crazy obsession of mine XD

Yall have no idea how much help these guys were. Probably wouldn't be able to finish without either of their help ᕦ(òωóˇ)ᕤ

Oh and an honourable shoutout to the song "Headlock" by Imogen Heap! Kept listening to this on loop as it kept my drive up to write this.

Now onto the fic!

---

Prowl ignored Jazz's various attemps to push out his servo from the cockpit. Despite the mech being weak himself, the human was still no match against thousands of pounds of metal, especially in his own weakened state.

Which was a matter of its own at the moment. Prowl knew he had very little time to be able to run ahead before the other humans caught on to them, having noticed the alarm bells ringing through the facility.

So he ran towards the exit Jazz had initially pointed out, the only plan they had at the moment.

...

"Prowl! Prowler, hey! I know you can hear me! Prowl!" Jazz shouted as he slammed yet another fist in a failed attempt to nudge the bot's servo out of the way. He hasn't said a word since picking Jazz up, and he wasn't sure how long that was, maybe not that much, but it felt too long yet too little at the same time (what a headache).

Sliding down, he gently hit his forehead over the protective servo and let out a sigh of defeat. No way he could get him to move like this.

Why was he trying to anyways? Didn't he want to be with Prowl? He certainly did, but somehow, something in him made him feel like he shouldn't just be accepting this.

And maybe Prowl also knew this, which is why he took off and hasn’t said a word since. Both held conflicted feelings about the whole thing. If only things didn't feel so blurry right now!

Suddenly, a hard shift made Jazz stumble a bit, grasping at whatever he could so he didn't fall back, loud noises of metal scrapping metal could be heard as something got kicked open on the outside. Jazz scrambled over to the small crevice that opened between Prowl's digits, not enough for him to fit anything over other than his hand, but enough to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Prowl had kicked down the exit door to the lab ('not like he had the hands available to properly open the damn thing anyways' Jazz thought to himself). It was meant for mechas to exit the room after they finish off whatever it is they do in here, that Jazz knew, and if he was right, just down the hall there will be another exit leading to the backroom where they stockpiled the mech suits. No one but the technicians were usually supposed be there, it would be an easy fight to get to the big gate that lead to the outside training grounds, which is why Jazz had pointed for the mech to go down there in the first place.

There shouldn't have been a problem besides giving him time to leave unscathed. Which Jazz assumed would not be the case as he was currently inside Prowl and not buying him time to escape. But, to Jazz's surprise, nothing had come close to attacking them, yet.

The pilot did not have much time to contemplate it as suddenly he heard Prowl rumble an annoyed grunt.

"Don't move."

In shock, Jazz stumbled back as Prowl removed his hand and reached for the end of the overhead gate, seemingly alot harder to kick down than a two way door. The only thing it would really do would be to bend the metal a bit but it wouldn't give an open entrance. Jazz didn't dare leave, not like he could from this hight, but even if he could, Prowl would probably just pick him up again; it be a waste of energy really (just admit it, you don't want to leave him). But something about this felt wrong, so far they haven't had a single guard come down the hall, just this small pause would give them enough time to catch up to the two runaways, Jazz was sure that guards had been on his tail when he was under his rampage.

Unless...

Wait.

"Prowl! Wait don't open that gate!" But he was too late, the moment he uttered those words the mech had already been in motion and pushed the gate up with all his might and as quickly as he opened it a gun shot came through the otherside. They had been waiting for them, they knew where they were heading. The bastard he kicked down prior to this probably saw them and reported it, dammit.

Prowl let out a strangled cry of pain as the shot landed right on his left shoulder (like it wasn't damaged enough by the lack of arm), Jazz fell backwards with the harsh motions, hitting the back of the pilot's seat, the impact leaving his vision to go dark for a few seconds before he collected himself as quickly as he could. In an instant though, just as he tried to get back up to see what was outside, Prowl had put his hand back over the open cockpit.

No...he wouldn't be able to fight like this, protecting him as he is would only hinder the bot to more damage. And that's exactly what Jazz intended to express to the other. "Prowl! You won't be able to fight with your hand over me! Forget about holding me inside, I won't leave, I promise!"

"That's not the point!" Prowl growled, letting out another hiss of pain as more shots were loaded, someone shouting out for them to stand down.

Prowl couldn't risk leaving Jazz exposed. Unlike the human, Prowl could take a few shots, their weapons not being strong enough to inflict any serious damage to his plating (though perhaps a bit to his exposed protoform, though he could handle it for a little while longer). But it would take one lucky shot on Jazz to have him dead in an instant, and Prowl couldn't take that chance.

It seemed like Jazz got the message, not spitting back any sort of remark about Prowl's lack of explanation.

But the mech couldn't linger too much on those thoughts, he had to get out, and fast. He was losing too much energon, and his vision was starting to get blurry, which wasn't a good sign. It didn't help that his thoughts were a hazy mess, his usual ability to think logically overthrown by the panic of needing to get out of this place while ensuring Jazz's survival.

It's not like he had much to do, though. Any possible escape hindered by the fact he couldn't use his weapons unless he risks Jazz's life to one lucky shot. Perhaps he could make a run for it, knock through the mechas in front of him and let them tumble over as he reached the final exit; it wasn’t the best plan perhaps, with at least a 19% rate of success, given he isn't in the best physical state at the moment, he probably wouldn't be strong enough to knock them over. Added to the fact the exit wasn't shut by a gate he could simply knock over easily either, like the previous one. He'd have to push it open from the bottom, and there wasn’t enough time for him to act on it.

But he'd have his back turned to the shots, reassuring Jazz's own safety, so he could perhaps risk removing his servo to push the gate open once more.

With a quick warning from his HUD telling him his energon levels were getting dangerously low, Prowl decided to take the risk, with little time left, he took a step forward making a run for it.

The mechas seemed to ready themselves for his attack, quickly positioning their weapons to target him, closing any narrow space they had between each other.

What they didn't expect was for the mech to charge his whole body weight onto them. Despite not feeling any pain, they certainly could not fight against gravity itself. They all stumbled against each other as Prowl made a mad dash to the gate. He slid on his knees and made a quick reach for the bottom of the gate, anxiously removing his hand from over the cockpit, bending over protectively as to not have anything be able to aim inside.

He could feel his spark beating fast from anxiety, they were so close, they'll be able to leave soon enough. Jazz was most certainly having a good feel to Prowl's anxious beat, the loud thruming reaching the bot's own audials was most certainly deafening to the human sitting near it.

Then, a shot.

A pop.

A blinding light.

And the beat stops.

Jazz was curling in on himself as an instinct to protect himself from the sudden burst behind him. It only took a few seconds for him to realise what that was once he couldn't hear a single beat of a spark, or the burning sensation it left, feeling his own heart stop and drop to his gut.

It felt like the world around him suddenly stopped, everything going into slow motion, with no sounds to accompany the dread. Feeling as Prowl's body leaned foward to crash on the ground.

But just as quickly as the silance came, it left. Prowl catching himself from hitting the ground with a grunt, a slam could be heard as his arm and elbow made contact with the concrete floor. His spark beating, weakly, but beating nonetheless. What felt like hours of silance was only a quick few seconds of deafening dread.

"Prowl!" Jazz called out in desperation, reaching out to hold the edges of the cockpit, so not to fall out, but to also try and comfort his anxiousness as he tried to look up at the mech's face. The mech made a sound of acknowledgement, which came out more like broken static, but didn't make much effort to move, his face scrunched up in pain, optics shut. They shot him on his back, too close to where his spark would be, causing him to skip a beat, and busting a bit of his left doorwing, but it still seemed to function somewhat.

Suddenly, both of them picked up on the sound of something opening, giving no time for either to fully process what had just occurred. Prowl made a quick move to get his hand over the cockpit once more (with slight struggle as he stumbled and fell on his aft) as a thick metal slab emerged from above and beneath, right in front of the gate, shutting it close with a protective layer of metal. Guessing by the red alarm ringing around them, an emergency protocol to keep anyone from leaving. Slag.

The mechas surrounded them, guns all aimed to shoot at the alien mech if he didn't comply.

It was silent for a brief moment, in exception to Prowl's anxious beating spark (which wasn't a problem for Jazz at the moment, the burning warmth being somewhat comforting) and Jazz's own heart beating over his ears. Both catching their breaths.

"There's no point in fighting. So make this easy for all of us and surrender yourselves." A nobody pilot finally spoke out, weapon leaning a tad closer than the others.

The atmosphere felt heavy, they were pinned down. Really, the only thing they could do was surrender, but Jazz would sure as hell be reprimanded for his actions and Prowl.....he didn’t want to think about that. No, he wouldn't even allow that thought to become any sort of reality.

"Prowl" he whispered, knowing only the mech would hear him, leaning a gentle souch to his servo as if to beg, "I know you might not have alot of trust 'n me, but this might be our best shot." There was a tense shift, not too noticeble unless you could see the mechanisms from the inside, Prowl knew what he was about to suggest. "You need to let me pilot you." He cringed as he felt the other's servo stiffen, he wasn't pleased with the idea, and neither was Jazz, but he knew this place alot better than Prowl did, and knew how to properly defeat the mechas, knowing their weak spots. And Prowl was all too aware of that too, Jazz knew it. They both were very aware of it all.

"Please," he begged, leaning his forehead on the mech's servo yet again, "I can't lose you again." There was slight shift, Jazz looked up, though he obviously couldn't see the mech's face, the sigh he let out was loud and clear. The controls on the pilot's seat shifted, Jazz got the message:

'Alright'

He couldn't help but let a small smirk creep over his face, making way to sit down and start piloting.

"Under one condition though," Prowl suddenly whispered to him, though it was alot louder to Jazz on the inside.

"And what would that be, partner?" The title flew out too fast for Jazz to stop himself, feeling so natural to call Prowl partner once more. The mech didn't seem against it though.

"No removing my hand."

Jazz was left stunned for a quick second, though it felt like a minute for Prowl as he waited for a reply eagerly.

"I can work with that." Prowl let out a sigh of relief at that, allowing the human, his partner, to take control of him again.

It took a moment for Jazz to adjust himself, in the meantime, the people waited outside anxiously for the other to make a move. When Prowl finally started to shift around to stand up with a small grunt, everyone raised their guns and loaded them up, but didn't shoot just yet. The mech looked up at them with a deadly glare, but made no move to attack, his remaining arm not leaving the open cockpit for a second, he simply stood up with a slight slump to his posture, doorwings drooping down slightly. In all possible ways, he looked weak and defeated, no signs of fighting back.

One of the mechas walked closer, gun still aiming at Prowl, but it was lowered slightly. They reached a hand out expectantly.

"The pilot, hand him over." They demanded, no sympathy whatsoever.

Prowl clutched his chasis, anger pooling over in his spark, doorwings twitching up slightly, but he made no move to attack. Not yet. He heard Jazz speak to him in a low tone so only he could hear it, with a sigh, he relaxed. He slowly, very slowly, drew out his hand from the cockpit, the action in itself having the other mecha have their body relax slightly as they approached the mech, weapon being put down slightly enough, and so did the others around them. Jackpot.

Before he fully removed his servo, the mech made move to crouch down and in a swift motion swung a peed over to the mechas own, catching them off balance and knocking them down. Jazz let out a small hiss to the action, forgetting his own injured leg, but pushed on regardless.

Using the thrusters of his doorwings, they were able to balance themselves back up, Prowl's servo going back into fully protecting it's pilot once more. With most weapons being aimed up and not down, it took a delayed second to aim correctly, but it was enough time for the human and cybertronian duo to twist themselves out of harms way.

Before the fallen pilot could attempt to get up, Jazz made move to aim over the weak spot of their mecha's knee and stepped hard enough to break its mechanisms so they couldn't stand back up easily. But the glory was short lived as more shots were fired their way.

Jazz's hand twitched to move and use its weapons, but he resisted the urge with a slight huff, "Man, 's hard to fight without an arm!"

"This is none negotiable, Jazz." Prowl hissed as they made move to avoid more shots.

"I know, I know! Don't mean it makes it easier!" Jazz tried to analyse their surroundings, though it was made difficult with the many HUD warnings from all the injuries (the pilot couldn't help but mutter a broken "I'm so sorry" to his partner, whether the mech heard him or not he wasn't sure), but pushing through it, he took note of a few key details. There was a metal catwalk grate near above the mechas' heads, running with a few on ground troops, the bastard of a boss being one of the few amongst them. Near a corner stood an elevator to go up and down the area.

How that could help, Jazz wasn't sure yet.

A shot hit Prowl's arm, pain flowed through the mech as he moved out of the way once more. Jazz looked around in a frenzy to find a place to shield themselves....the mechas! Making a run for to the lifeless husks, he swivelled around between them and hid behind the many rows of mechas knowing full well that they would not risk such precious resource and money just to reach them. At least he hoped not, because he just needed a little bit of time to figure something out.

Hearing the big man call out to hold their fire was good enough indication that his idea worked.

"Ok, now we just need somethin' to distract them long enough for us to make a jump to the ceiling." Jazz explained

"The ceiling?" Prowl inquired, not so certain about his partner's ability to properly think at the moment.

Jazz rolled his eyes, but didn't make mention of the mech's tone. "It's the weakest point here, plus" he made way for Prowl to look up to where he remembered the area to be at, "there's a trap door for flying mechas and emergencies. One quick press of a button will open it up, even under "safety protocols."" Prowl let out a hum in thought, seeming to analyse the situation.

"Possible, but where is this said button?"

"Behind the elevator, by the catwalk grating on top. There's a control panel, and one big red button, can't miss it."

"Would smashing it still get it to work?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't have any complaints."

"Good, now," Jazz went back to scanning the area, "how to cause a distraction?"

"Would that broken pipe be of any use?" Prowl made an effort to twitch his head over to the direction of what he wanted Jazz to see. And just as the mech stated, there, by the first floor of the elevator, stood a broken pipe, steam coming out of it.

Jazz smirked "it would actually. If we can get somethin' to shoot at it, we might cause an explosion, giving us time to jump up without being the target anymore."

"Sounds like a plan." Prowl shrugged.

"Don't have anything to add?" Jazz asked a bit surprised.

"No, I don't." The pilot didn't push.

"Okay. Well, let's get these bastards shootin." In quick motion, they made way to the elevator, already hearing the commands to shoot fire, 'but watch for the machines!' Weapons were loaded from above as well, shooting down at the two runaways once again.

Jazz made sure to move swiftly behind the mechas, making sure they were shielded properly. Any gaps they had to cross was a small risk they needed to take, scrapes and scratches being left in its wake, but tried not to do it too often, just enough that they could follow them. They eventually reached where the pipes were, Jazz took a deep breath.

"Ready, big guy?"

"Ready."

They stepped foward, making sure to call the attention towards where they were, but quickly retrieting back behind the mechas suits as they shot directly where they wanted to hit. "Bingo."

Quickly, activating Prowl's thrusters, they leaped over to the metal grates that stood above them as the pipes behind them burst, causing a huge commotion as empty mechas fell down and whatever machine near the crossfire tumbled down. Prowl let out a gasp as he felt the world around him spin, the grating beneath them not being of any help as it shook with his weight. Jazz was quick to hold on, helping the mech stablise himself before aiming with his left foot to kick the big red button with their ticket out of here, the motion causing his vision to flash in pain, but he bit his toung until he could taste iron and pushed forward.

Hearing the metal door above them open up, Jazz readied himself, but hesitated with the warning he'd received from Prowl's HUD from his low energon levels. He didn’t even get the chance to fully check on it though, Prowl quickly pushing them out of the way himself.

"I'll live, just one more push." The mech hastily reassured the human. Jazz wasn't inclined to belive it though, feeling the other's spark beat anxiously (and for some reason that made him feel slightly dizzy. Though he chalked it up to it being his possible concussion).

It took one shot to slip an inch away from Prowl's face for them to finally snap out of it and jump. One more push from his thrusters as they flew up through the trap door and landed on top of the roof with a grunt, the mech's left wing finally giving out.

But they weren’t in the clear yet. Looking out, a wasteland of a forest awaited them, with dense trees at the bottom.

"We'll have to make a jump for it. If we're lucky enough the trees will be big enough to hide us." Jazz supplied.

"45% of that happening. But we don't have much of another option at the moment." Prowl added

With all that being said, Jazz moved into action. With so much at stake, he had to, he couldn't waste another second in debating. Hefting Prowl up, he used all remaining strength to jump where they needed to go, but as the training grounds began to get closer than anticipated, Prowl knew they didn’t make the jump and that made the mech almost freeze.

Though Jazz had other plans, because as their impending flat doom approached in rapid speed, Prowl's remaining thruster burst to life and gave that final impusle they needed to reach the slope. They both braced themselves as they were thrown up and over to their intended destination, Prowl having half a mind to tighten his hold over his chest so none of the debris and impact could reach the fragile human still in his care.

They rolled down the slope, Prowl just barely being able to shift himself so that he was sliding on his back instead. The aggresive motion of going down a not so smooth path causing bigger cuts and slashes against his already damaged frame. But the only thing he could think of at the moment was that they made it.

Jazz was quick to let go of his control over Prowl, who in turn made an effort to sit properly. Though the sudden slamming to his servo made him look down worriedly, moving it slightly to see Jazz leaning on it desperately.

"Prowl-" he heaved, "Prowl put me down I'm feeling sick."

The mech panicked and quickly made move to help the human down, gently placing him on the grass below. Jazz made no effort in being graceful as he hurled over and puked his guts out, luckily avoiding Prowl in all of this.

Clutching his stomach in pain, his heaving and coughs agitating the injuries on his abdomen. Everything around him felt blurry and muffled as his body made sure to get everything he had eaten in the past day out of him.

What made him panic was the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he coughed up whatever he had left inside. That's not good. And that definitely didn't escape the giant mech's notice, who kept a hovering servo near him.

"Jazz! Is that blood?!" His voice sounded so broken, static lacing over his words.

"Uh- Yeah. Yeah it is." He wasn't sure how to deny that really, and he felt too light-headed to try. But his attention diverted to the sudden pink glow that landed at the side of his vision.

Energon.

Quickly looking up, he finally got a glance at his partner's battered condition. Energon leaked from many different parts of his body, but the main source being from his missing arm. Jazz couldn't help but cringe at that.

But what hurt him the most to see was the weak light from the mech's optics, which still held visible concern on them. Despite being close to going into offline, he still looked at Jazz as if he's about the crumble into dust and leave him. Which he honestly, maybe, felt like. But seeing Prowl's optics flicker as they fought to stay online, Jazz panicked

"What 'bout you?!" He called back, catching the bot off guard. "You're losing too much energon! You look like you're about to go offline!"

Prowl cringed a little, not having anything to counter that. "Well that's because I-"

"No! I'm only a little bit dizzy, but I'll live. We need to patch you up right now!"

"I can help with that."

The new voice catches the duo off guard, Prowl immediately reaching out to Jazz, hand shielding the human from whoever that might be. Jazz looked down from where he was looking at Prowl and turned to see who it was that the voice came from.

There standing in front of them was a human carrying a simple tool box and a huge backpack strapped over one shoulder, filled with questionable things.

---

BEFORE YOU LEAVE, a little something I would like to point out for the fic, that some of yall with either like or not, during the process of writing this, I've seen a few posts keferon made about the spark being radioactive and such, and it sorta made me think a bit while developing Jazz's condition. So well, take Jazz's health in this as you will with this info :)

But anyways, yippie!! That's all for today folks! I hope yall enjoyed this one bc I definitely had a heck of a time writing this one XD

It got alot bigger than I anticipated and took much longer to finish than I originally planned (was supposed to be done 2 days ago).

Now, I know I keep saying "not sure if I'll make another part to this" but then proceed to do so anyways. But I mainly do so because everytime I shared it someone said something that added to the story somehow and gave me ideas to continue foward.

So like, if yall liked this and wanna see more, don't be shy to suggest/add anything to this as it may help inspire me to add more onto this, cuz honestly idk what the fuck I'm doing rn, I'm just going with the flow ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, a bit of note for the doodle, holy shit I did not expect it to look this good!! Tho I suffered with Jazz's suit, plz ignore any inaccuracies tee-hee. Prowl's knee and hands were hell too, especially his knee, but i could like, hide most of it lmao. Actually mainly struggled to not have his hand cover Jazz too much bc it kept covering the parts I actually wanted to show off lmao.

Oh and the guy at the end? Yall can take a good guess as to who it is :)

But since he doesn't have any official design, I kinda went with whatever felt right lol.

I also really wanted to draw out more scenes to add to the fic, but then it would take me a lot more time to actually post the fic as I figure out how to draw robots :'). But maybe I can try and doodle them out another time if I can, no promises tho-

#mecha pilot jazz au #oh god I'm so nervous about this one #i hope yall like it #and plz plz share whatever thoughts you have on this (as long as they're positive ofc bc my ego is very fragile YwY)#cake writed #yeah that's a tag now #cakes art #transformers #tf jazz #tf prowl #jazzprowl

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piinksdoll · 3 months ago

Text

→ [Bed Chem | Spencer Reid]

Pairing~ Spencer Reid x Singer!Reader

Genre~ fluff, very suggestive

Word Count~ 2.2k

Warnings~ sexual innuendos, spencer being an awkward cutie

a/n~ very fluffy and cute but also VERY suggestive, and I know some of the lyrics down match up with spence so pls dont hate me also I just used a photo of sab so dont hate me it was just to visualize!!! also NOT PROOFREAD!!!! also I added links to visualize for me people who are visual-izers lol k have fun!

part 1!! part 2!!

(Narrator POV)

Penelope had gathered everyone in her apartment for her usual get-together, but this time, she seemed particularly excited about something. She wouldn’t stop grinning, and none of the team could get a straight answer about what they were about to listen to. Spencer would rather be at home with you, since days that you're in Virginia are scarce, but you insisted he hang out with his friends. He sat in Penelope’s apartment excited for the night to be over so he could return home to you.

“Come on, Babygirl, spill it,” Derek said, giving her an exasperated look. “What’s this surprise? Is it a podcast? Audiobook? Something crime-related?”

“Oh, it's so much better than that!” Penelope said with a mischievous look in her eye. “It’s music! A new artist I’m obsessed with. Her name is Y/n Y/l/n and she's so amazing you’re going to love her! We’re listening to her new album Short n’ Sweet, she only has a performance out for Bed Chem so we’re going to start off with that!”

The fact that she had chosen your album had made Spencer uncharacteristically nervous, and now that Penelope was about to press play on a song about him, his unease was starting to become visible. Spencer stiffened beside Derek, his fingers nervously twitching at his sides. He knew this album very well. Penelope pressed play, and the first beats of ‘Bed Chem’ by you started filling the room. The sultry intro immediately set the tone, and Spencer swallowed hard. He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. Of all the songs.

I was in a sheer dress the day that we met

We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec

Your friend hit me up so we could connect

And what are the odds? You sent me a text…

Emily raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Ooh, this sounds fun.” JJ nodded along, smiling. “It’s catchy.” But it wasn’t long before the lyrics kicked in, and as Spencer listened to the opening lyrics he recalled how you two met:

Flashback

(Y/n POV)

“Listen, I know I have all these things to do but I just need time ok? The album needs something, I am not at all ready for it to come out. It's literally all just sad, and there needs to be something else apart from it. Nat, please just a few more months and you can release it no matter what- oh my, i'm so sorry that was totally my fault!” I exclaimed seeing coffee spill all over the coat of the stranger in front of me. My phone fell on the ground between us landing under the books that had slipped from his hand. I look up and am met with big brown eyes that look like chocolate I can just melt in.

The stranger in front of me gasped slightly, looking down at his now coffee-stained coat. "No, no, it's okay!" he reassured me, his voice soft but flustered as he knelt down to gather his fallen books. I crouched quickly, reaching for my phone that had landed just beneath one of his thick textbooks.

“I’m really sorry,” I said again, glancing up at him once again as our hands brushed while reaching for the same book. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I was struck by how gentle his expression was, despite the mess I had made.

He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the edges in a way that made my heart skip a beat. "Really, it's fine," he said, handing me the phone. "Accidents happen." I let out a small, relieved laugh, grateful he wasn’t upset. “I’ll buy you a new coat or at least pay for the dry cleaning. Seriously, I’m-”

“You don’t have to do that,” he interrupted, standing up and shaking his head. “It’s just coffee. I can clean it up.” I straightened, still feeling embarrassed. “At least let me buy you a coffee. You know, to replace the one I spilled.” I offered, hoping to make up for my clumsiness. He looked at me for a moment, considering it, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Alright. But only if you’ll let me grab a seat and hear why you’re so stressed out.” He motioned towards the phone I had been mid-conversation with when we collided. I blinked, surprised by his easy going nature. "Deal," I said, smiling cheekily up at him “But, uh... I didn’t catch your name.” He extended a hand. "Spencer. Spencer Reid."

I shook his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as I introduced myself. “Nice to meet you, Spencer. I'm Y/n.”

Flashback Over

And now the next thing I know, I'm like

Manifest that you're oversized

I digress, got me scrollin' like

Out of breath, got me goin' like

Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? Like

Ooh, maybe it's all in my head

But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

Spencer’s stomach dropped as the next set of lyrics filled the room. Penelope was still humming along, enjoying the vibe of the song, completely oblivious to the growing nervousness inside of him.“‘Manifest that you're oversized... Out of breath, got me goin' like...’” Penelope sang along under her breath. She glanced over at Spencer and caught him staring at the floor, his body stiff.

“Oh, this one’s so good! It’s got that flirty energy.” Derek laughed. “It’s catchy, for sure. I wonder who the song is about though?” He grinned, “Bet the dude is feelin’ pretty lucky.” Spencer's breath hitched as the chorus started

How you pick me up, pull me down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense

How you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things, that's bed (bed) chem (chem)

How you're lookin' at me, yeah, I know what that means and I'm obsessed

Are you free next week? I'd bet we'd have really good

Spencer’s mind was racing as the sound of your voice fills the room. He knew everyone was at ease and him being stiff and sweating was putting a spotlight on him. Emily let out a low chuckle as the suggestive lyrics played. “This girl is something else. I don’t know who she’s singing about, but they must be good.” She raised an eyebrow, half-joking, but Spencer could feel his heart racing.

Come right on me I mean, camaraderie

Said you're not in my timezone, but you wanna be

Where art thou? Why not uponeth me?

See it in my mind, let's fulfil the prophecy Ooh (ah)

He takes in a sharp breath at the racy lyrics. His pulse quickened, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The team continued to listen, oblivious to the internal panic flooding his body. Each line felt more like a spotlight aimed directly at him. Derek let out a low whistle, eyebrows raising at the suggestive turn in the song. “Damn. This song is getting real interesting.” He laughed at Spencer’s uncomfortable state, completely unaware of the significance behind it.

JJ chuckled, swaying her head to the beat. “I love how bold she is! Whoever this song is about… they are very lucky.” Spencer’s hands gripped the edge of his seat, his face heating up. He could feel Emily’s eyes subtly watching him from across the room. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure this.

Who's the cute guy with the wide, brown eyes and the big bad, mmm, like?

Ooh (ah) I know it sound a bit redundant

But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

As the song ended Spencer let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding in, thankful that the song was over. “What's up, pretty boy? Couldn't handle a pretty girl singing bout bad things?” Derek teased him, throwing an arm around his shoulders, his grin wide. As he was about to respond his phone rang, Spencer’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest when his phone buzzed on the table. The screen lit up with your name and contact photo, one of you smiling brightly. The entire team froze, their eyes slowly shifting from the phone to Spencer, then back to the phone.

Derek’s grin widened even more, his teasing now taking on a new level. “Well, well, well… Look who it is.” he said, still keeping his arm draped over Spencer’s shoulder. “Is this the mystery girl you've been so secretive about these past few months?” Penelope's eyes widened in excitement. “Oh my gosh, Spencer! Are you going to answer? You have to answer.” JJ leaned in closer, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “This explains a lot, actually,” she said, glancing from Spencer to the phone, Emily finished her sentence. “Especially that song.” Spencer shook his head trying to hide his blush as he answered the phone.

“Hey Y/n”

‘Hey lover, you havin fun?’

“Yeah, uh, the night took an interesting turn…”

‘Oh? How so?’

“Yeah, uh so Penelope invited us over and turns out it was a listening party… for your album…”

‘Oh- that hilarious oh my’

“Yeah and they just heard Bed Chem and they saw you called me…”

‘Oh my- HAHA thats so funny whattt’

“Yeah, they wanna meet you now.”

‘Well good because I've been wanting to meet them! Can you finally introduce us?’

“Alright well I guess it’s time. You're my person, I want you to meet my family.”

‘Well I can't wait. What about you invite them to my concert next weekend in DC and we can go to dinner afterwards?’

“Sounds perfect, like you, I'll see you at home I love you.”

‘Love you too. See ya lover’

Spencer returned to the group after hanging up, slipping his phone into his pocket. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but the warmth from your call still lingered on his face. As he sat down, the team was waiting for him, grins plastered across their faces, eyes twinkling with mischief. Derek was the first to break the silence, leaning in with a smirk. “So, pretty boy, you and Y/n Y/l/n, huh? Sounds like she’s got you all wrapped up in that album.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the others, who were clearly holding back their laughter. “I didn’t know we were having a listening party,” he mumbled, trying to divert the attention. “Didn’t know? Or didn’t plan on being exposed?” Emily teased, raising an eyebrow. Penelope gasped dramatically, clutching her heart. “I mean, Spencer Reid as a muse for a song about that? Honestly, I’m living for this.” Spencer’s face flushed deep red. “It’s not exactly like that-”

“Oh, come on, Spence!” JJ finally chimed in, laughing. “Even you have to admit it’s a little funny.” Spencer looked down at his hands, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay... maybe it’s a little funny.” The team erupted into laughter, the tension in the air easing as they continued to tease him, but in a much lighter, more affectionate way. “You really had us going there, man,” Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t expect you two.”

Spencer sighed, still smiling despite the embarrassment. “I didn’t expect it either... but, you know, I’m really lucky to have her.”

“And clearly, she’s lucky to have you, too,” Emily added, her teasing softening into something more sincere. “You two make a great pair.” Spencer looked up at her, grateful for her words. “Thanks, Emily.”

“She uh, invited all of you to her concert next week and dinner afterwards so you guys can finally meet.” A mix of excitement and nervousness in his voice. “She's been asking for a while but I've been nervous but she's really important to me. I really love her, you guys, and youre my family. It's time for you guys to meet.” He nodded sincerely.

Penelope was the first to speak, “Oh my god, yes please I wasn’t able to get tickets that amazing! And I cannot wait to meet her!” Her voice was laced with excitement. JJ smiled brightly, nudging Spencer’s shoulder playfully. “Look at you! Having a secret girlfriend. I love it. I’m so happy for you, Spencer!” Emily beamed, her gaze softening. “You two sound like a perfect match. I can’t wait to meet her. It’s about time you brought someone special around.” Derek raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on his lips. “So, what are you saying, Reid? Are you going to introduce us to your girlfriend or what? Does she have any friends for me?” Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “I am not setting you up, but I know you’ll love her. She’s the sweetest person ever. Just be nice, okay?”

“I can’t make any promises,” Derek joked, chuckling. “Seriously, though,” Emily said, her tone turning more sincere. “We’re really happy for you, Spence. It’s great to see you so happy.” He nodded, his heart swelling with affection for you and gratitude for his friends. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.”

The conversation continued, filled with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming concert. As the banter resumed, Spencer couldn’t shake the feeling of joy bubbling within him. He knew that sharing this part of his life with his team was important, and he couldn’t wait for you to meet the people who meant so much to him. Later that evening, as he headed home, he found himself smiling at the thought of seeing you. He couldn't wait to show you how much he cared about you and how much he wanted you to be a part of his world.

#spencer reid x singer!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #piinksdoll

551 notes · View notes

hhie · 5 months ago

Text

i love you im sorry💡

idol!haechan x dancer!reader

genre : exes to lovers , bff to lovers (kinda)

idol au , fluff & angst

warning : alcohol, profanity, nsfw , lots of insensitive/mean jokes , age gap (4 years), haechan is a little obsessed with her, ~ more to be added

pls note that / characters actions and behaviour are not associated to them in real life / pictures are from pinterest/ this is purely fictional !!!

synopsis : 2 years ago , you and your best friend fell in love with one another. Only for him to leave you and cut you off with no explanation. What if , 2 years later, you decided to take a big step into your career, thinking that it is the best decision you’ve made in your life.

Unaware of what’s going to happen … you should be fine right?

from me: hello! this is my first ever smau and au i hope you are as excited as i am. I can’t wait to share with you my work!! pls feel free to let me know if l need any improvements. Feedbacks are appreciated, i will try my best to commit to this and finish it up without abandoning it. So please be patient with me , love you guys!

taglist OPEN! - @junviadinho @injunnie-lemon @sunghoonsgfreal @nessaassen02 @dudekiss3r @munstvrs @sthwaaberry @nmlee @ourbeautifulaffair @chenlesfeetpic @jaeminnanaaa17 @roseangelxfuma @fullsunahceah @taeeflwrr @chan-yeoldelling @anglswon @yyangj3lly @thegracerammy @jeonghansshitester @swanyvess

(dm/ comment to be added)

status | ongoing ~ est 35 chapters

updates: every weekend (or spontaneously …)

MASTERLIST

haechan & bros | y/n’s community

1. that’s just the way life goes

2. approval !!!

3. am i nervous or am i just excited

4. WHAT??

5. step up your game

6. he’s trying

7. awkward…

8. drunk af

9. am i dreaming rn??

10. baby steps

11. HOW DID THEY FIND ME?

12. dinner AGAIN

13. a lil tipsy

14. complicated

15. fucked up ALOT

16. love therapist or something

17. uhoh

18. first round

19. slowly and steadily

20. tough decision

21. i dont care

extras : 🎥

PAST | PRESENT | LIVING WITH YOU

654 notes · View notes

theonottsbxtch · 3 months ago

Note

Your Charles series was so good. And your writing is amazing.

Could you maybe do something where reader is friends with Arthur’s GF- Jade or someone in his friend group and she meets Charles and he literally has a fall in love at first sight moment with her and maybe he becomes a bit obsessed 🫶🏻🫶🏻

LOVE ME, BABY | CL16

an: i did a mix of a smau and written for this one and since i'm moving to france again soon i'm making her french ehehe

jade_distinguinn

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 28,428 others

look who's finally come to visit @/yourusername

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userone: facecard never declines for both of them

usertwo: i need them both

userthree: omg finally getting to see yn in monaco

yourusername: take me to the port, i need to find a sugar daddy

jade_distinguinn: enough.

userfour: they're so pretty

yourbestfriend: it's fine leave me behind, i'll cope

yourusername: you had work??

jade_distinguinn: i tried to pay you to come??

yourbestfriend: shh don't expose me.

userfive: i would commit war crimes to be apart of their friendship

monaco casino, arthur's birthday

The night buzzed with a certain energy Charles knew all too well. The Casino de Monte-Carlo was alive with high society types, gamblers, and tourists, all bathing in the golden glow of the chandeliers. A typical night in Monaco, he supposed, but something about tonight felt different.

Charles had come here to celebrate Arthur’s birthday, content with blending into the backdrop. The Austin Grand Prix was just a week away, and while most people recognised his face, tonight wasn’t about the spotlight. That was Arthur’s role tonight, surrounded by his circle of friends. For once, Charles was glad to slip into the shadows.

He’d just stepped away from the table, heading towards the bar when it happened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you, gliding through the crowd like you didn’t belong in all this glitz, as though you were in your own world. Your dark hair fell effortlessly over your shoulders, and the understated elegance of your dress caught his eye. Not flashy, not trying too hard.

Then, in one brief, perfect moment, you brushed against him.

The light contact jolted him from his thoughts, and before he could even react, you turned, eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Your voice, soft and clear, carried the unmistakable lilt of a French accent.

Charles’s world tilted as your eyes met his. He wasn’t used to this—the sudden quiet that seemed to fill the room, as though all the noise had fallen away in your presence. And yet, here you were, pulling him into that stillness.

You didn’t look at him the way people usually did. There was no spark of recognition, no polite nod that said, I know who you are. Just calm, curious eyes, waiting for a response.

Charles cleared his throat, his usual confidence faltering. “Yes… sorry, I—”

“Are you alright?” you asked, a faint smile playing at your lips, almost teasing.

He couldn’t help but laugh softly, surprised by how easily you handled the situation. Handled him. That never happened to Charles Leclerc. People usually fumbled over their words, especially in places like this where Formula One drivers were practically worshipped. But you? You were treating him like he was just another guy in a suit, standing in your way.

“I’m… Charles,” he managed, extending his hand automatically.

You glanced at his hand, but instead of shaking it, you smiled politely and looked past him, scanning the corridor. “Nice to meet you, Charles. But I really need to find the bathroom before I get even more lost in here.”

And just like that, you were leaving. The most baffling part? You still had no idea who he was.

“Uh, it’s just down that corridor to the right,” he said, voice a bit steadier now but still trailing after you as you moved away.

“Thanks.” You shot him one last glance, smiled briefly, and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him standing there with an unfamiliar feeling settling in his chest.

Charles was used to attention. But this? This was different. A fleeting encounter, barely lasting seconds, yet it had left something behind he couldn’t quite shake. You’d treated him like anyone else. Not a celebrity, not a driver—just another person. And that intrigued him more than anything.

With a sigh, Charles turned back towards the bar, trying to push the thought of you out of his mind.

But minutes later, back at the table with Arthur and the others, his thoughts kept drifting. He couldn’t shake the memory of you, couldn’t help but glance at the entrance now and then, half hoping, half expecting to see you again.

And then, there you were.

You moved through the crowd with a quiet confidence, your head held high, walking straight towards the table. Charles’s pulse quickened as you drew closer, your gaze sweeping across the group until it landed on him.

Jade noticed you first, her face lighting up. “Darling! There you are!” She jumped up, pulling you in for a quick hug.

Charles watched in amusement, barely concealing a smirk. You hadn’t recognised him yet, still oblivious to the fact that you’d just met him.

You sat beside Jade, and Arthur leaned over, gesturing towards Charles. “I don’t think you’ve met Charles here, have you?” His grin was wide, completely unaware of the encounter that had already unfolded.

You glanced his way, and for a split second, something flickered in your eyes. But you kept your expression composed, only hesitating for a moment before replying smoothly.

“No, I don’t think I have.”

Charles leaned forward, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You were good. Playing it off like the two of you hadn’t just crossed paths minutes ago. The fact that you weren’t acknowledging it only made him more curious.

He extended his hand again, this time with a knowing look in his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you replied, your gaze meeting his directly, a glint of challenge flickering there.

Arthur, still oblivious to the undercurrent between you two, continued on casually. “Charles’s been in Monaco as long as you. Just got back from testing in Italy.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Testing?”

“He’s a Formula One driver,” Jade added, glancing between you and Charles.

Charles didn’t take his eyes off you. He saw the moment of realisation in your eyes, just the slightest widening before you regained your composure. But he caught it. You’d finally connected the dots.

You recovered gracefully, your voice smooth and unaffected. “I guess I’ve been too busy to follow sports.”

Charles let out a low chuckle. You were definitely good at this game. And the best part? You weren’t going to make it easy for him.

“That’s what makes it interesting,” he replied, his gaze steady on you.

Jade quickly pulled your attention to something else, and Charles watched as you turned away, part of him disappointed, but another part relieved. It gave him a moment to take you in fully, to process what had just happened. You hadn’t recognised him—not as a Formula One driver, not as anyone of importance. You’d smiled, thanked him, and carried on.

As the conversation at the table continued, Charles found his thoughts drifting back to you, glancing your way more often than he should. There was something about the way you carried yourself—an effortless kind of allure, unpretentious and completely disarming.

He realised he’d been too quiet when Arthur nudged him, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Charlie, you alright?” Arthur raised an eyebrow, his tone curious.

Charles blinked, forcing a grin. “Yeah, yeah. Just thinking.”

Arthur chuckled, clearly unconvinced. “About your next race or something?”

Charles’s eyes flicked back to you, now laughing at something Jade had said, completely unaware of the fact that you were occupying his mind.

“Actually,” Charles said, lowering his voice so only Arthur could hear, “I was wondering if you could give me her number.”

Arthur looked puzzled. “Her? Really?”

Charles rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, she’s... different. I’d like to get to know her.”

"Alright, I get it," Arthur said, his voice low enough so the others couldn’t hear. He glanced over at you, then back at Charles, his smile fading into something more serious. "But no can do, mate. She’s Jade’s best friend."

Charles blinked. "What’s that got to do with anything?"

Arthur shrugged, his grin returning. "It means I’m not getting involved. If you want her number, you’re going to have to ask her yourself."

Charles felt a jolt of panic surge through him. "Ask her myself?" The words came out louder than intended, and he quickly lowered his voice when you glanced in their direction. He cleared his throat, trying to appear nonchalant. "I mean, you can’t just—"

"Nope," Arthur cut him off, his expression completely unyielding. "I’m not risking it. Do you know how long it took me to win over Jade? If I mess this up by playing matchmaker and it doesn’t work out, I’m screwed."

Charles groaned inwardly. Arthur’s girlfriend, Jade, was lovely, but he had to admit—Arthur had a point. The last thing he wanted was to stir up any drama, especially with you being Jade’s best friend. But still, the thought of approaching you directly made his pulse quicken.

"You’re really not going to help me out here?" Charles asked, trying one last time.

Arthur grinned like he was thoroughly enjoying the sight of a Formula One driver getting flustered over a girl. "Not a chance. But look at it this way—you’re Charles Leclerc, mate. You can handle it."

Charles stared at him, deadpan. "You realise I drive at 300 kilometres an hour for a living, right? This is way more terrifying."

Arthur burst out laughing, slapping him on the back. "Good luck, mate."

Charles watched as Arthur leaned back in his chair, clearly done with the conversation. He couldn’t believe it. Ask her myself. He glanced at you again, and his heart did that strange, unfamiliar thing where it skipped a beat. This was insane.

But there was no way around it.

He took a deep breath and downed the rest of his drink, trying to steel his nerves. The next race was nothing compared to this. Alright, he thought, just go over there and act normal. But even as he thought it, he knew ‘normal’ was the last thing he’d be able to pull off around you.

How had this become the hardest thing he’d ever done?

charles_leclerc

liked by arthurleclerc, jade_distinguinn, carlossainz55 and 986,583 others

celebrating 24!

*tap to load more comments*

userone: my fav grid siblings

usertwo: oh my who are the girls at the end?

arthurleclerc: merci frero

userthree: i want to know what a leclerc party is like

jade_distinguinn: @/yourusername we got put on blast in that final picture

arthurleclerc: @/charles_leclerc eyes

jadedistinguinn: what?

arthurleclerc: nothing mon amour

userfour: i wish i was there

userfive: happy birthday arthur!

yourusername: oh god i look awful

charles_leclerc: i think you look quite the opposite actually

texts between jade and arthur

jade's apartment

You were lounging on the sofa, the late afternoon light filtering through the blinds, casting soft, golden streaks across Jade’s apartment. She was curled up in the armchair across from you, scrolling through her phone and sipping tea. It was one of those rare, lazy afternoons where nothing was pressing, and the air was filled with the comforting hum of nothingness. A perfect break.

“So, what are you and Arthur up to tonight?” you asked absently, flicking through the channels without much interest.

Jade glanced up, shrugging. “Not sure yet. He mentioned something about Charles going to England tomorrow for testing, so we might just go out for dinner and come back unless he wants to go and see Charles.”

Before you could respond, there was a soft knock at the door.

“That’ll be him,” Jade said, setting her cup down and stretching.

You got up to answer the door, opening it to find Arthur standing there, a familiar cheeky grin on his face.

"Alright, ladies?" he said, stepping into the apartment with the ease of someone who's done it a hundred times before. He gave Jade a quick kiss on the cheek before plopping himself down beside her on the armchair, completely at home.

"Hey, Arthur," you said, sitting back down on the sofa. "Heard Charles’s off to England tomorrow? Are you going to see him tonight?"

“Yeah,” Arthur says, leaning back and draping his arm across the back of Jade’s chair. “Got some testing to do, nothing major, just a quick day trip, so we’ll be home tonight.”

“Must be exhausting,” you commented, more out of politeness than anything. Formula One life sounded glamorous, but you couldn’t imagine the constant travel.

Arthur chuckled. “Yeah, he’s got a crazy schedule, that one. Actually…” He hesitated for a moment, shooting a glance at Jade that you didn’t catch, then continued, “Charles is looking for someone to dogsit while he’s away. Just for the day, really. His usual sitter fell through.”

You blinked, surprised. “Charles has a dog?”

“Yeah, a small dachshund. Leo. Sweetest thing you’ve ever seen,” Arthur said, his voice casual but you missed the slight edge of anticipation that lingered beneath his tone.

You glanced at Jade, who was suddenly very interested in her tea, and shrugged. “I could do it. I’ve not got any plans tomorrow anyway, and I’ve been wanting an excuse to get out for a walk. Might be nice to have some company.”

For a brief moment, neither Jade nor Arthur said anything. It was like they’d frozen, and you were about to ask if you’d said something weird when Arthur cleared his throat.

“Yeah? That’d be brilliant,” he said, flashing a quick smile at Jade before looking back at you. “Charles will appreciate that. Leo’s great, really. You’ll get along.”

You nodded, thinking it was no big deal. “Happy to help. I love dogs.”

Jade set her cup down a little too carefully, and you missed the look she shared with Arthur—a quick, knowing glance, a barely-there smile. It was the kind of look that was exchanged between people who were clearly up to something, but you were oblivious, already thinking about what you’d need to bring for Leo’s day out.

Arthur leaned forward, grinning now, clearly pleased with how smoothly things were going. “I’ll let Charles know. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and drop you off at his place?”

“Perfect,” you said, pulling your knees up to your chest and settling back into the cushions. “I’ll make sure Leo’s well looked after.”

Arthur and Jade shared another glance, but you were too busy scrolling through your phone now, thinking about where you’ll take Leo for a walk. Maybe the park nearby?

Jade stretched, standing up and nudging Arthur’s arm. “We should probably get going, yeah? Need to go pick something up from your mother’s salon.” she said, clearly making something up on the spot.

Arthur jumped to his feet, playing along smoothly. “Right, yeah, can’t forget about that.”

You waved them off, entirely unaware of the little conspiracy brewing right under your nose. “See you tomorrow, then.”

As they left, Jade turned back, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You’ll love Leo, trust me.”

“Looking forward to it,” you called back, smiling.

yourusername

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dog sitting duties

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userone: omg is that leo??

usertwo: chat if they date, my glock is finna be locked and loaded

userthree: is that charles' place??

arthurleclerc: my nephew is so adorable

userfour: i want to be her so god damn bad

userfive: i must have been the worst sort of person in my past life WHY IS THIS NOT ME

jade_distinguinn: cutest ball of fluff ever

usersix: parents?

charles_leclerc: thank you for this

charles' apartment, late at night

Charles dragged his suitcase behind him, feeling the familiar ache of travel settle into his muscles. The testing had gone well, but the flight back from England had drained him more than usual. All he could think about was getting home, maybe grabbing a quick bite to eat, and collapsing into bed.

As he unlocked the door and stepped inside, something felt off. Normally, Leo would be at the door within seconds, his tail wagging like crazy, eager to greet him after any amount of time apart. But today, there was no thundering of paws, no excited whining. The house was still, unusually quiet.

“Leo?” he called out softly, frowning as he dropped his bag by the entrance.

No response.

His concern grew as he walked further into the living room, the sight before him making him stop in his tracks. There, curled up on the sofa, was Leo—and beside him, fast asleep, was you. Your head was resting on a cushion, and Leo’s small dachshund head was draped lazily over your legs. Both of you looked completely peaceful, completely unaware of the world.

Charles blinked, feeling something in him soften at the sight. He’d forgotten for a moment that Arthur had mentioned you’d offered to look after Leo while he was away. Seeing you there, though, sprawled out on his sofa, completely at ease with Leo beside you, was… unexpected. But in the best possible way.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he quietly stepped closer. Leo’s ears flicked up as he noticed Charles, but the dog didn’t move, simply blinked sleepily before resting his head back on you, clearly not ready to leave his comfortable spot. Charles chuckled under his breath. Traitor.

His eyes moved back to you. You were still in your casual clothes, one arm draped across your chest, your breathing soft and steady. He felt his chest tighten, this strange warmth creeping up on him as he stood there watching. He could see why Leo hadn’t come rushing to the door—you were good company, after all.

Charles sighed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. As much as he wanted to crash right there on the sofa himself, beside you, he knew you’d be more comfortable in a bed. He hesitated for a second before moving closer, carefully reaching down and gently sliding one arm under your legs and the other under your shoulders. You stirred slightly as he lifted you, but didn’t wake, your head leaning into his chest as he carried you through the apartment to his bedroom.

You felt light in his arms, your face peaceful as he laid you down on the bed, tucking the covers around you carefully. His heart gave an unfamiliar lurch as he stepped back, watching for just a moment as you settled into the blankets, still fast asleep.

Charles smiled softly to himself, shaking his head as he quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. He glanced back at the sofa where Leo had curled up, already resuming his nap. “Looks like I’ll be taking your spot tonight, mate.”

text between yn and jade

charles' apartment, following morning

The first thing you felt was warmth. Your body was cocooned in softness, the kind of comfort that made you want to sink deeper into sleep. But something didn’t feel right. You blinked your eyes open slowly, expecting to see your familiar surroundings—the sofa, Leo, maybe even your shoes kicked off somewhere on the floor—but instead, you were in a bed.

You sat up quickly, blinking against the morning light streaming through a nearby window. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the room around you. This definitely wasn’t your apartment. The walls were unfamiliar, the duvet softer than yours, and the faint scent of something cooking wafted through the air. Panic settled in your chest.

The events of yesterday start rushing back. Leo. Charles. You’d agreed to dogsit while Charles was in England for testing. You must have fallen asleep on the sofa—but how did I end up in bed?

Oh no. Did Charles put me here?

You felt a rush of mortification as the realisation hit. He must have carried you. Carried you. Heat rose in your cheeks as you glanced around the room, suddenly very aware of the fact that you were lying in his bed. His bed!

Throwing off the covers, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, running a hand through your hair. You didn’t even know what time it was, but it felt later than it should be. God, how long have I been asleep?

You headed towards the door, trying to shake off your embarrassment as you stepped out of the bedroom and made your way into the main part of the apartment. The smell of food grew stronger, and as you rounded the corner, you froze.

Charles was standing in the kitchen, barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, and flipping something in a frying pan. His back was to you, but there was no missing the fact that he was shirtless—completely shirtless. The morning light caught on his tanned skin, highlighting the defined muscles of his back and shoulders. Your brain momentarily short-circuited, and you stood there like an idiot, staring.

Oh God, this is so much worse than I thought.

He turned around, catching sight of you standing there, and smiled, completely unfazed. “Morning.”

You blinked, feeling the heat rush to your face again as you tried to form coherent words. “Uh… morning.”

He set the pan down and wiped his hands on a nearby dish towel, seemingly unaware of your internal struggle. “I hope you slept alright. Sorry if I startled you by moving you to the bed, but I thought you’d be more comfortable.”

Your heart was still racing, and you were pretty sure you were about three shades of red at this point. You fumbled for a response, trying to keep your eyes from drifting back to his very toned, very bare torso. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to just… fall asleep on your sofa like that.”

Charles chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered state. “No problem at all. You looked comfortable, and Leo clearly wasn’t moving anytime soon.” He nods towards the dog, who was lying by the kitchen, tail thumping lazily against the floor.

You let out a breath, still feeling a bit mortified but tried to compose yourself. “I just… I didn’t realise I was that tired.”

“No harm done,” he said, waving off your apology. “I’m actually glad you stayed. Saved me from dealing with an overly energetic dog first thing in the morning. He pawed at your door to join you last night and only came out 20 minutes ago, all calm.”

You managed a small laugh, feeling slightly less awkward now, though your eyes kept darting to his chest before you forced them back up to his face. Focus.

Charles seemed to notice your discomfort, his smile softening. “I was just making some breakfast. Do you want to join me?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. “Breakfast?”

“Yeah, the thing people eat at the start of the day?” he said sarcastically and casual, as if this whole situation was perfectly normal. “I’m making eggs and toast, nothing fancy. But you’re welcome to stay.”

Your stomach betrayed you by rumbling softly, and you realise you hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before. Despite the lingering embarrassment, the idea of sitting down with him, maybe getting to know him better, didn’t sound half bad.

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little. “Yeah, okay. I could eat.”

Charles grinned and gestured to the kitchen island. “Great. Grab a seat, I’ll get you a plate.”

yourusername

liked by arthurleclec, charles_leclerc, jade_distinguinn and 33,539 others

"nothing fancy" and "just eggs and toast"

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userone: LEOOOOOOO

usertwo: that last pic gIRL??

jade_distinguinn: oh no the charles fans found you

yourusername: fuck

jade_distinguinn: good luck

userthree: who is she omg?

userfour: i think she's arthur's girlfriend's bestfriend from paris?

yourusername: yo that is insane, how did you find out i'm from paris

arthurleclerc: i'm sorry for what's about to happen

yourusername: THERE IS WORSE??!?

userfive: she is gorgeous

usersix: idk who i want more

charles_leclerc: if you were impressed by this, wait until you see what dinner consits of

yourusername: are you inviting me to dinner?

charles_leclerc: only if you say yes

yourusername: yes

userseven: WE ARE WITNISSING HISTORY

twitter

charles' apartment, one night

The evening sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the apartment. Charles had insisted on cooking dinner for the both of you, despite your half-hearted protests. Now, the smell of something delicious—a mix of garlic, herbs, and roasted vegetables—filled the space, making your stomach rumble.

You were seated at the small dining table, watching as Charles moved around the kitchen with surprising ease. He wasn’t wearing a shirt again, but this time you’d had a little more time to get used to it. It wasn’t helping your concentration, though. Every time he turned to grab something or stir a pot, your eyes seemed to betray you, drifting toward the defined muscles of his back, the curve of his arms as he worked.

He caught you staring once or twice, shooting you a quick, knowing smile, which only made you look away, cheeks burning.

“Alright,” he said finally, bringing over two plates and setting them down on the table. “Hope you like pasta.”

You glanced at the dish in front of you—perfectly cooked spaghetti, tossed with olive oil, garlic, and roasted tomatoes. “It looks amazing,” you said, genuinely impressed.

He sat across from you, pouring some wine into your glass with a teasing smile. “Thought I’d try to impress you.”

You laugh, taking a sip of the wine. “Consider me impressed. You didn’t strike me as the cooking type.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, smiling lazily. “What, just because I drive fast cars for a living, I can’t handle a kitchen?”

“Well, yeah,” you tease, twirling some pasta around your fork. “It doesn’t really scream ‘domestic life,’ you know?”

He chuckled at that, but there was a soft, almost thoughtful look in his eyes as he watched you. “Fair enough. But there’s more to life than cars, you know.”

You take a bite of the pasta—perfectly seasoned, of course—and nod. “I’ll admit, you’re a man of surprises.”

As the conversation flows, you start to relax, the initial awkwardness of the morning fading away. You tell him about your time in Paris, about how you’ve been studying film and journalism at university. Charles seems genuinely interested, leaning forward slightly as you talk.

“So, you’re a filmmaker then?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Hopefully one day,” you say with a laugh. “I still have a year left at uni. Right now, it’s more learning than making.”

Charles takes a sip of his wine, considering. “What kind of films do you want to make?”

You pause, twirling the wine glass in your hands. “I think... films that make people feel something. You know? I want to tell stories that resonate, that make people look at the world a little differently. Journalism’s the same for me. It’s all about storytelling.”

He watches you as you speak, his gaze intense but soft, like he’s taking in every word. “That’s... really cool,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I think the world could use more of that.”

You smile, feeling a strange warmth spread through you—not just from the wine, but from the way he looks at you, like he’s genuinely interested in who you are, not just the surface-level stuff. “Thanks. I leave tomorrow, though, back to Paris to finish my term.”

There’s a brief silence, and for a moment, the lightness of the conversation shifts. Charles sets his glass down and leans forward, his eyes not leaving yours. “You don’t have to go tomorrow, you know.”

You blink, surprised. “What?”

He shrugs, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I mean, what’s a few more days? Stay a little longer. We can get to know each other better.” His tone is light, but there’s something deeper in his eyes—a hint of something more serious, more intent.

You hesitate, your mind racing. Stay longer? You’d planned to leave tomorrow, get back to your routine, your studies… But the way he’s looking at you now, the thought of leaving suddenly feels less appealing.

“I—” you start, but Charles interrupts, his voice dropping a little lower, his gaze never wavering.

“Look, I know we just met, but… there’s something here, right? Between us?”

The words catch you off guard, and your heart skips a beat. You weren’t imagining it, then—this pull between you two, the way your pulse quickened whenever he was close, the way your eyes kept finding him without meaning to.

“I don’t know,” you say softly, feeling your heart race. “Maybe…”

He stands up then, walking around the table slowly, his eyes locked on yours. Every step closer makes your breath catch in your throat, the room seeming to shrink as the distance between you disappears.

When he’s standing in front of you, he reaches out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up so that you’re looking right into his eyes. “Stay,” he says again, his voice almost a whisper now. “Just a little longer.”

Your pulse pounds in your ears as you meet his gaze, your heart caught between indecision and desire. You open your mouth to say something—anything—but before you can, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but then it deepens, heat flooding your body as you feel his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands move instinctively, finding their way to his chest, the warmth of his skin under your palms sending a thrill through you.

The rest of the world falls away, leaving only the feeling of his lips moving against yours, the taste of wine still lingering, his breath warm and steady. When you finally pull back, your forehead resting against his, you’re both breathing a little heavier, your heart pounding in your chest.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and full of something that makes your knees feel weak. “Stay,” he whispers again, his voice rougher now, more urgent.

And suddenly, leaving feels like the last thing you want to do.

You stare up into Charles’s eyes, still catching your breath from the intensity of the kiss. His forehead is still pressed gently against yours, and the weight of the moment is thick in the air, like the world’s holding its breath along with you.

His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly along your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, his chest rising and falling a little faster than usual, mirroring your own heartbeat. He leans in again, his lips just a whisper away from yours, and his voice is low, thick with desire.

“Say yes,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. “Stay, just a little longer.”

You swallow, your pulse pounding in your ears, your body still buzzing from the kiss. It feels impossible to think straight with him this close, with the way his touch sets your skin on fire. But then, as his fingers slide down the side of your neck, his lips just barely grazing yours, you make your decision.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His lips crash into yours again, more intense this time, like the word had unleashed something in him. His hands slide down your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. You gasp into the kiss, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as the world blurs around you. The only thing you can focus on is him—his warmth, his touch, the way his mouth moves against yours like he can’t get enough.

Charles backs you gently against the edge of the dining table, his lips never leaving yours, and you feel the solid wood press against the small of your back. His hands find your waist again, lifting you effortlessly onto the table. You gasp as he steps between your legs, his body pressing against yours, and you feel every inch of him—strong, solid, and warm.

Your hands slide over his bare chest, feeling the taut muscles under your fingertips all over again. He groans softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through your entire body. The kiss deepens, more urgent now, and you feel his hands wander—one slipping up your back, the other gripping your thigh, pulling you even closer.

It’s overwhelming, this rush of heat, of wanting. Your heart pounds harder with every movement, every brush of his lips. His mouth moves from yours, trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You tilt your head back, eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself get lost in the sensation.

Then, just when you think you might drown in the feeling, he pulls back slightly, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours again. His hands are still on you, holding you close, like he’s afraid to let go.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathes, his voice husky and low.

You smile, breathless and still dizzy from the kiss. “I think I might.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and intense, searching yours. There’s a softness in his expression now, something deeper that makes your heart flutter all over again. “So, you’re staying?”

You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Yes. I’m staying.”

The smile that spreads across his face is slow, but it lights up his entire expression, making something inside you melt. He leans in again, pressing one last soft, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back and gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Good,” he whispers, his voice low and full of promise. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

yourusername

liked by jade_distinguinn, arthurleclerc, charles_leclerc and 54,429 others

one more week won't hurt, right?

*tap to load more comments*

userone: GUYS??!??!?!?!

usertwo: is leo about to have a mother?

userthree: THAT LAST PHOTO CHARLES LECLERC HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

jade_distinguinn: @/arthurleclerc mission acomplished?

arthurleclerc: yes boss 🫡

yourusername: huh??

userfour: can not believe i'm alive during this time rn

charles_leclerc: rumour is you can transfer to UoMonaco

yourusername: charlie you know i can't 🤭

userfive: CHARLIE STOP I CANNOT TAKE THIS I DONT EVEN KNOW THESE PEOPLE AH

usersix: i am sick🤧

userseven: time to start wondering around aimlessly in monaco and pray for the best

the end.

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